The western star falls (Tamsin)

[Zeneth]

Timestamp: 1st of Summer 511AV
Location: Beach near Tranquil Port

He didn’t know why he was here.

The moon - no… his Lord, his God, Leth, was shining high in the sky, illuminating the city of Lhavit below and the rocky path to the Tranquil Port. He still didn’t know what drove him out of his own home, against his father’s wishes; besides the mark that was ingrained on his chest he had no other motivation. He knew his leaving would have incited rage in his father yet again, but he was used to this rage. Irelia would be long gone now, to some place foreign and unknown… He only hoped she would live a life that was without strife.

He had been walking through the busy streets of the city, barely any thoughts circulating, no clear destination to his movements. It was when he glanced up at the expansive sky did he notice something…. Spectacular. It was a star.. One of Zintila’s stars, gliding almost effortlessly through the sky. Down down down, leaving a stream of glittering fire, until it fell from view over the misty mountains.

What had Leth told him that fateful night? Watch for a falling star… Could this be the sign he spoke of?

There was nothing left for him here, not while he yet harbored a broken heart and a torn soul. Zeneth wasted no time. He shoved people aside, undressing as he went; jerking his robes away and his silk pants the next, and in a blinding flash of smoke and light he transformed himself into the majestic okomo and bounded for the gates.

Zeneth’s black pelt camouflaged him against the night’s backdrop, but not from the glow of the buildings. He was too swift however for the guards to stop, and in mere minutes he was leaping from rock to rock, down the descending path from the city. The road was a welcomed relief from exertion, but his pace only quickened. Half a bell later the twinkling lanterns of the Tranquil Port emerged; the established trade port of Lhavit. There were many a hooligan here, with plenty of mercenaries and sailors frequenting the many bars. For it’s name it wasn’t a very tranquil port at all; in fact, there was plenty of rough-housing.

But Zeneth ignored all of this. He was too wrapped up in the falling star. He had seen it beyond the port, as if it had landed in the sea. With a kick of his crystal hooves he bounded for the beach branching out on either side, his gaze passing over the crashing waves against the shoreline. But… nothing… nothing yet. Curiosity drove him knee-deep into the water, his hooves kicking up sand and sending fish scattering. Had he imagined the star? Was it an illusion? The anger fueled in him and with a roar he reared up and thrashed the water.

[Tamsin]

She had landed far off of the shore, an ungodly distance away, almost. But it gave her time to think, to get her bearings, to digest what He had told her, to try to figure out just what she could make of this strange, alien world. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless, that the water wasn't shockingly cold or even uncomfortable. Her long, thick hair was surprisingly heavy in the water as she paddled in the direction Leth had shown her, dragging with her the bag that had bumped against her, as if carried with the water.

She was not forsaken.

The shadows in the mists were fading away, becoming clearer as she swam slowly, her hands paddling the water from in front of her as she kicked. She was not tired, she found, not with the light of the Moon above her. It was an odd sensation that stood out in a night of other such oddities. She continued her quest for land. Up ahead, she could hear faint sounds as she considered her future and how to proceed from here. A name, first. Names held as much power as one gave them, and she was lost for what she was called at the moment. He had called her Tamsina. Was she still Tamsina? Tamsina, she knew, had been an Eypharian. She was no longer any such creature. But for lack of a name... Tamsin would do. Eypharian... only not quite. The issue of her identity settled, at least, for now - she was certain she was forgetting other such important things, and while this troubled her, this haze on her memories that she could not solve or part, she trusted Him. If He had felt it was important that she knew, He would have told her, reminded her, like He did.

She had more yet to do.

There were colours there, sounds and lights that she wondered at, beckoning the moths to the flames. But somewhere to her left, away from the noise and the piers, she saw blue in the dark night. It stood out, illuminated, transformed by Leth and Zintila to something wondrous. She heard loud splashes, and a louder call. Was it anger? Was it something else? She realized now that she could almost feel the pebbled sand, studded with rocks worn smooth by the endless swells of the tide beneath her feet, and straightened, standing upright in the water. It cost her a breath, precious breath, but now she could stand. A few more steps, and her curved horns, forest-green in the darkened sky, dripped water as her long black hair pooled about her opalescent skin in the frothing water below.

That was his first view of her.

Step by step, her mismatched eyes, one as blue as his horns, one as violet as the twilight sky, both flecked with silver slowly took in the scene before her. She moved slowly, even despite the water, but it wasn't from a sense of fatigue, but almost a stately bearing that had gotten used to an endless amount of time, no longer seeing any such reason for rushing or sense of urgency. It was simply what felt right to her. Tamsin, no longer Tamsina, looked around in wonder, a heaviness finding its way into her hand as the bag that had been on her arm slipped down to palm. She grasped the leather strap, pulling it along with her. But no matter what way she looked the gaze returned to the flashing horns and the beast that they belonged to. Her hair cloaked her, clinging to her as she emerged from the waves, the blackened locks contrasting with her milky skin as she stopped a few pieces from the Okomo. The weight of her hair peeled back, revealing the silver circle on her forehead, much like the one on his sternum, the first phase of the moon, the waxing crescent, filled in. Under the moonlight, it glowed like the rest of her. Her lips moved, the sound only barely audible. "Why do you rage?" She would find out what it was after, perhaps, or even who. But she could feel its anger, its discontent, washing against her like the waves on her exposed legs as she held up her free hand, palm out, stopping but a few paces away from it.

So much had changed. So much to learn.

[Zeneth]

For all the meeting with a divine god was worth, Zeneth’s anger was still uncontrolled. It was like wildfire, quick and potentially deadly. In his animal body he could become more violent, as his horns could skewer a bear, and his crystal hooves capable of crushing a man’s skull. But something was amiss. The waves as they lapped at his forelegs rippled with the foreign presence. Something stood from the water, gracefully, like a siren from the depths.

Zeneth halted his thrashing, standing still, his snout heaving from his labored breaths. Blue eyes watched the beautiful creature emerge from the waves like a beacon, drawing him to her. She was beautiful; oh, ungodly beautiful. With horns! Horns like his own, but they did not glow as his did. Only her skin shimmered like a curtain of stars. The okomo was utterly transfixed.

She spoke and he listened with rapt attention. Then almost effortlessly he replied to her, only there were no movement of lips, and no language uttered. It was through his thoughts he projected his words.

Rage? I do not rage. Not anymore. I’ve found what I came for.

Zeneth stomped the water and pressed his snout to her hand, his eyes watching her. Familiar. That was the term. This creature looked familiar; like those that were found in Lhavit. What had they been called? Ethaefal… children of the sun and moon; of Leth and Syna.

Come, climb on, I’ll take you somewhere warm, Zeneth offered, lowering himself down to allow the woman to mount, What do you call yourself, child of Leth?

[Tamsin]

Her eyes widened when he spoke without words to her, and she was fascinated. In her heart, or perhaps her soul, she knew that this creature was also Marked by Him. Like her, he bore the first Mark, the waxing crescent, but with the quadruped's hair concealing it, she wouldn't ever haven known if it was on its forehead, like her own, or somewhere else. But it was more of a connection than anything else, and she gently placed her smooth-skinned alabaster hand against his snout, feeling him shift against her hand, feeling his breathing as it had begun in pants, and was slowly evening out once more. Tamsin smiled faintly, her eyes almost glowing. There was wonderment about her, curiosity, as she explored his nose for a moment with gentle fingers, stroking along and against the hair, marveling at the sensations against her skin. Fresh from the water, her scent was simple and clean - almost as if she was lacking one, having not had much of a chance to be affected by anything beside the water. In time, that would change.

Calm. Steady. Calm is good.

And while she stroked his nose, standing as they were in the water, she inspected him. She had never seen anything like him, truly told, and it showed The way he had calmed down pleased her, somehow, as if she did not understand just what he had been so anxious about. But how could she ever know what sort of turmoil his life had been? Awed by his presence, his size, his horns, his fur, she looked into his eyes. She didn't look away, just held his gaze and relaxed there under Leth, and somehow, Tamsin had a feeling that He approved. It made sense to her, that this majestic being would be waiting for her in the direction He had pointed her. She had faith.

A meaning to all things. Revealed upon reflection. Revealed upon time.

Framed by her hair, the circle and the crescent moon on her forehead shone, making her horns truly glow as she activated the Gnosis mark on instinct. I think, the Ethaefal followed his cue in projecting what she was thinking to him, not having to think about how to do it. That we both have. She angled her head slightly, inclining it in agreement and as a sign of respect. Her horns, while they did not glow like his, looked like emeralds under the moonlight, glassy though they looked. She nodded at his words, and came to his left side, the bag floating in the water beside her as she studied him, figuring out how to do this, as her hair pooled in the water still. Was there any end to it, really? After another moment's reflection, Tamsin, using a combination of his shorter height and a bit of the water's buoyancy, awkwardly clambered onto his back, trying not to jostle him too much.

I am sorry, she apologized, moving her hair away from her right side and draping it to the left, using the weight of the bag in her right hand to counterbalance her own weight on the left as she attempted to get herself over. But at long last, she was astride his back, her hair almost doubling her weight, water-logged as it was. She shook her head slightly, shifting the heavy curtain now as it covered her again, soaking the two of them, but it proved that the jet locks did have an end to them, at least. It covered her much like a cloak did, for now, revealing flashes of silvery-white skin occasionally. The bag rested in her lap, a backpack, Zeneth would have recognized it, and she clung with her legs. Do I hold onto your horns? The illuminated crystalline bone had her attention, certainly, and she longed to touch them, just to see what they felt like. My name is Tamsin. May I ask of yours?

[Zeneth]

His heart ached. He didn't know why, all he knew was the sensation throbbed in his chest and in his mind. The water dripped from his coarse black fur, the waves crashed against his limbs and sprayed water across his glistening horns as well, and yet his eyes remained transfixed on the creature who'd graced him as if Lhex and Leth somehow smiled on them both. A beautiful symphony of fate and faith.

There was no aggravation in his posture, no hint of skepticism or doubt. He stood rigid so she could climb atop his back; a barrier against the crashing waves that jostled her long, silky hair about them. Then she spoke, a gentle sound in his thoughts, and he listened so intently, as if her voice was the thread from which he held onto, so as not to be swept away into the vast sea.

There's no need to be sorry, he replied, not unkindly, You can hold my horns to keep your balance, it will not pain me.

When she'd settled, he began to wade through the water, towards the dusky shore where the trees were nigh indecipherable, but the moon showered the terrain in a soft glow. The mark she held on her forehead did not escape him, and he understood that she too was graced by his very presence, to be given a duty with which to uphold. To the Kelvic, this event was like a dream, just as his meeting with his beloved God felt like a vision rather than reality, here too, Zeneth could not possibly imagine that such fortuitous circumstances could ever grace him as they did.

But she felt real. Utterly real. Her weight on his back, her soft hands against his tapering horns, her beautiful hair cascading like an ebony waterfall around them. He walked with a steady gait, his crystalline hooves sinking into the sand with each step, but after several minutes, he'd emerged from the sea and onto the shore. Sand gave way to grass along the bank, and further in they passed tall, looming trees and brush with barely any obstruction but the occasional exposed root.

It was several chimes before the Kelvic paused beside an especially large and old tree, it's gnarled trunk almost resembling a face. He bent low to allow her to dismount, and then stood aside so as to shake the damp from his fur. There was questions, many questions tormenting his thoughts. And yet he wondered if his transformation would frighten her. To see a man in place of an animal, was that not what a woman feared? To be alone with a man they knew not?

Zeneth reared his head and stomped his hoof, as if visually frustrated by the options he had. His gaze wandered to the Ethaefal, watching her with keen eyes, and then with a cloud of brilliant light, a man stood in place of an animal, toned body slick with water, damp, black hair matted against his face, and a gaze that watched for her reaction.

"My name is Zeneth," He finally said, "Tamsin..." He'd been meaning to wait to say her name aloud, really feel it on his lips and tongue. "You are what I've been waiting for, I can feel it. Here." His hand touched his chest, where Leth's crescent moon engraved itself upon his flesh. "My kind need someone... to protect and love. I can't bear to be alone, not now, not when I've found you.."

[Tamsin]

She sat sideways on his back, her long, black hair covering her like a blanket, covering his sides as well, the ends carried in the frothing sea as it roiled and bubbled around his legs, the waves lapping away. At his reassurances, she hung onto his horns, her bag in her lap. It was a wonder, she felt, that it was not full of water. It did not seem to be. Her arms moved with his head so that she did not try to keep his head up, but swayed with his own motion, feeling his sides and flanks moving under her. They left the waters of the bay at last, and Tamsin looked around them, taking in the coast, the star-studded sky overhead, and the radiance of their God. She smiled, her eyes closing, the light of the moon catching on the silver ring on her forehead, on her glassy horns. Her lips moved in a silent prayer as she thanked Him. Surely, this creature who had spoken directly to her had been sent by Him.

She found that riding like this was not as difficult as it would seem. She was of an appropriate size for him, and since she had not the faintest idea of the concept of a saddle, this was as good to her as any other method. It allowed her to move with him, and the contact had an intimacy to it that no saddle could ever offer. Her violet and indigo eyes wandered through the starlit landscape, wondering what this place was. She would have to ask her guide and newfound companion.

She slipped off his back, understanding when he bent for her to do so, landing lightly, soundlessly, her bare feet against the cool, soft grasses. That was a surprising sensation, and she moved her toes carefully through it, one hand just off of the trunk of the tree, should she need it for balance. She did not. For her first steps on land since time immemorial, she was fine. She smiled down at the ground, but her attention was soon caught by the way he pawed the turf and tossed his horns. She did not startle by this, just reached out, her skin peeking out from the tresses that clung to her, almost like slivers of the moonlight in the night sky, and cupped his jaw with both hands carefully, fanning her fingers amongst his cheeks as she looked into his eyes as they stroked gently, exuding calmness, as if she hoped to somehow transfer it to him, to bequeath that patience born from agelessness to the Kelvic.

Once he seemed calm again, she let her hands fall slowly, and she smiled at him. Her eyes widened when he changed, but she did not flinch nor falter, unalarmed and unconcerned by this. If anything, it seemed to please her more. Had Leth not changed for Syna? He governed the sphere of Change. He was Change. Just as this creature had become a man before her, his hair as dark as hers. She wanted to ask him what he was, how he did such things, but he spoke first, and she listened, really listened, to the way that he said her name, to the words, to the silent plea that he all but uttered. She drank in the details of his shape, never getting past his chest, where the silver ring, so much like hers, was emblazoned on his skin. “Zeneth,” she repeated his name, deciding that it reminded her of the phases of the Sun and the Moon. “You are sent by Leth,” she murmured, smiling. “You know of Him, and He knows of you.” Her words were soft and calm. That was all the confirmation that she needed to see and hear. “What place is this? What are you, Zeneth? That allows you to change in such a way?”

[Zeneth]

The smile danced on his lips, eyes blazoned by the sudden surge of joy. He approached her slowly, the soft caress of the chilled night suddenly vanishing, replaced by a heat that pulsed across his skin. He was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, the lost, hapless soul to the trickle of light in a dark abyss, like the moon to the sun.

"Yes, Leth," He replied, "He came to me, he told me of the star." The kelvic spoke with renewed vigor, an enthusiasm that laced his words. He'd never felt this way since Irelia. "He told me to look for the star, and I did. I did, Tamsin, and I found you."

A strong hand rose to touch her beautiful, opalescent cheek, gently, as if fearing that this woman, this divine being was only a vision that would shatter in moments. "He led me to you," Zeneth continued, "I'm meant to follow you, to protect you, to do what you bid."

To love.

He took her hand and placed it over his heart, "I am what people call a kelvic, a shapeshifter. A beast that can turn into a man. And where we are..." He looked around, the dark emerald foliage washed in a blue light of the moon swayed softly in the breeze. "We are in the Misty Peaks, the wilderness of Lhavit. We are in Kalea, home to the mountains and the stars." Then he glanced at her, eyeing her glass horns, "And you are... Ethaefal? A daughter of Leth. What is it like?" He asked, "To be with Him?"

[Tamsin]

Tamsin smiled at his approach, and laid her hand on his as he touched her cheek, her silky skin against his bare hand, holding it in place. She let him caress her as she had earlier, her eyes soft as she listened to his explanations, as he spoke of Leth, recognizing that selfsame admiration and respect that she herself had for the deity that had guided her for so long. She knew beyond any doubt that Leth had wanted this to happen. Circumstances changed - his and hers - and the Ethaefal was certain that Leth needed them for something. He had brought Zeneth to her. He had told her she would have more to do. This young man, this Zeneth, was part of it. Leth had been busy indeed. “To love,” she echoed his words. To guide, to love.

This was meant to be.

“Kelvic,” she murmured thoughtfully. The word was strange to her - she had no recollection of it, and wasn’t sure she had known it from before. The concept of a beast that turned into a man warmed her from her very core, spreading outwards in gentle laps, just as little ripples formed in a pond. She splayed her fingers over his heart, reveling in his touch. Like her, he wore nothing, but unlike her, his hair was certainly not long enough to cover any part of him. She smiled at him, trying to place the geography. “This isn’t the desert. Not Ahnatep...” it was a murmuring statement, a vague recollection of hazy heat and dryness that warmed her skin, unlike this rather pleasant coolness of the evening... “Kalea... I do not remember it. So much has changed... May I ask, what year is it?“ Ethaefal... the word made no sense to her. But if that was what the ones who had fallen were called... then she supposed that she was indeed an Ethaefal. “If that is what you think I am, then that is what I must be,” she inclined her head, her forehead resting against his. If she spoke in riddles, she wasn't trying to. This was completely new to her, but in her heart of hearts, she knew that she had found someone who would stay with her, teach her, guide her, show her...

So much has changed. So much change to come.

Her fingertips traced the Gnosis mark that Leth had bestowed on him. “I do not remember,” there was a faint trace of sadness, touched by longing in her voice. She had not yet spoken up, her voice as soft and gentle as waves lapping at the sands on a calm day. Her voice was quiet, as if she expected others to be quiet, too, and listen. Tamsin was not used to speaking loudly, as she saw no need to do it. Loud and aggressive persons were vexations to the spirit, anathema to her nature. But where he had been before she had come from the water, he was calmer, like Leth was to Syna. But still, that sadness was tempered with blossoming joy for the young man in front of her. This was preordained. Leth had arranged it, for both of them. They fit well together, she could tell. “Time... time meant nothing. You were never...never alone. I do not remember, but in time... in time I will remember more. He has His reasons, I know. If it was important that I remembered now... then He would make sure that I did. But I promise you this, Zeneth,” his name rolled off her tongue, familiar and warm and soothing all at once, “that I will show you what it was like.”

You have more to do. Reflect on it.

[Zeneth]

It was hard not to give in to his ingrained yearning. He wanted to envelop her in his arms and never let go. He wanted to profess his devotion, to extend the bond so that he may never be alone. But beneath the veil of a smitten man was a beast frightened of rejection. What would this divine lady ever see in a creature like him? I can be a monster as much as a man. I can crush throats and incite fear, he told himself while his eyes held hers, anchored into their mismatched depths.

Eyes that belie wisdom. Wisdom that I don't have.

The thought made him inexplicably angry. He dropped his hand from her cheek heavily, as if she'd lashed out with harsh words instead of gentle inquiries. Why was he so conflicted? Had not Leth been the deviser of this meeting? Had he not given him a goal to fulfill and a remedy to the void left by the departure of Irelia?

Her words tore him away from his inner conflict, sparked by the foreign name she'd uttered. "Ahnatep," He repeated, "You come from the desert lands?" A long way from home. "It's the year five eleven, after the Valterrian."

He never expected what she did next. Tenderly pressing her forehead against his, reminiscent to the bonding gestures of his kin. He felt a warmth in his chest, burying whatever doubts he held of himself. She was here for him. And he would serve.

"Come," He took her hand, gesturing toward a copse of trees ahead, split between two rolling hills leading towards a road. "I don't want you to fall ill from the chill. The Tranquil Port should have some merchants with dry clothes for you."

The port wasn't far. Zeneth had walked these roads many times during his extensive excursions in the wilds, and the commoners knew him well enough to turn a blind eye to his lack of decency. The girl he escorted, however, was met with pensive stares.

"What's this, boy? You two been rollin' around in the grass for the better part of the night?" A disheveled man sneered from his seat beside a warehouse.

Zeneth regarded him with a vicious glare, "Better to keep your mouth shut, Lars, or I'll rip out that filthy tongue for you."

"Ooer, tough guy tonight, eh? Gonna wack me around with naught but'chur skin?"

The kelvic ignored him, ushering Tamsin on toward the door to the quaint little inn. "Here it is. I apologize for these filthy mongrels. Humans are always such fickle, ignorant things."

A plump older woman approached them, rubbing her hands on a faded white apron, "Welcome, welcome. Ah, Zen, dear, it's good to see you again, as rugged as ever I see. And.... what's this?" The woman peered closer at Tamsin, offering her a warm smile. "Well if it isn't a lovely Ethaefal. How honored we are to have someone such as you under our roof, my dear girl. Hantry, go fetch some water, I'm sure these youngin's are parched." There was a grunt behind a door across from them.

"Pilfra--" Zeneth began.

"Hush, now, boy, I know what you two need, you think me blind?" She ushered them both into a room nearby, rummaging through a leather chest until she procured Zeneth's stashed clothes and a fresh cotton dress for Tamsin. "This was my nieces', should fit like a glove. Now I must get back to my guests. I'll return with snacks in a moment."

Pilfra closed the door behind her, and just like that, they were alone.

Zeneth cleared his throat awkwardly. "Pilfra, she's.... a little motherly," He commented with a crooked smile.

[Tamsin]

Her alabaster skin was cool to the touch from her trip into the water, luminescent in their Moon God's light, shining like finely crushed pearls. When he took her hand, she squeezed his tenderly. Like he would follow her, he would follow him, wheresoever he led. Her stride matched his as she held onto him, her long, wet hair dripping water as they walked, her arm against his. She could not know his inner turmoil, what rolling, tumultuous waves crashed against his heart and mind, but she could try to soothe it. And she would. But first she would find out more about him, and then she could learn what troubled him so. She could not fix it if she did not know what was broken.

Tamsin was slow to speak, but it wasn't because she was deficient in her mind, Zeneth could tell; but because she felt he deserved her full respect and attention and consideration. "I came from there, long ago. I worshiped Leth in the temples of sandstone and marble and gold... under a blackened sky, bathed in His light, knowing He was always there... So very, very long ago." How long ago that was was given away in her next question. "What is the Valterrian...? Was that the Great Rending?" she remembered it, albeit vaguely, knowing it was important without remembering why. Perhaps the two were related - that would make sense, would it not?

"Tranquil Port," Tamsin murmured. "It has a lovely name." When she cast a glance over her shoulder, the water, from the distance, did look tranquil and peaceful and serene. She was careful not to accidentally get him with her horns, and kept the pace beside him without a problem. She didn't even spare the human who had called out to them with mockery in his voice a glance. "When people seek to bring you down," she smiled at him, her mismatched eyes for him and him alone, "it only means you are above them, no?" her hand squeezed his.

She continued to walk, her eyes slightly wide with a childlike curiosity as she took in the world around them. What he was used to, what he now perhaps took for granted, she regarded with wonder. All of it was new to her... As was the cold that was beginning to prick at her opalescent skin. She hadn't know what to expect as Zeneth led her to a door, quietly leeching body heat from him, her long, long hair clinging to her body as her glassy horns reflected the light from Leth above. She hardly had a chance to greet the woman before they were ushered inside, leaving her to murmur a 'many thanks' as she hustled away, and they were shown inside. That was much better. She was unashamed of her nakedness, as Zen, her Kelvic companion, was also naked, and he had been more revealed than she.

"I thank you," the Ethaefal told the older woman, accepting the clothes and feeling over the smooth, soft fabric. She didn't know what the bag that had been left with her contained, but she suspected that they would find out in good time. First things first, after all. "She's lovely," Tamsin smiled at him. "Comforting, warm, inside and out," she took ya towel to her wet body, easing it over her skin before taking it to her impossibly long, glossy hair. Chances were, she was going to need help with it later as she bundled and twisted the fabric up, trapping her long tresses, and piling it atop her head between the round, curling horns.

She unfolded the dress, though her gaze was on him, her head tilted slightly as she just...looked at him, her gaze warm and grateful. To him, for bringing her here, to Leth, for sending him. You are beautiful, she told him without words. And beautiful people do not just happen to be. You have known loneliness... and loneliness has a beauty of its own... like the burn of sunsets and the taste of the night air... It is all around you, despite these people. But He does not want you to be lonely anymore.