Evening Breeze (Van)

[Khiara]

Taking back the carving, Khiara squeezed it, before putting it away. She couldn't trust herself to talk yet, dull eyes on Vanator as he conveyed
his apology. There was a look in his eyes, the grief on his face, and strangly the vantha felt a wash of relief. He knew this pain, she wasn't alone in her mourning. Looking down at his chest as he spoke, Khiara listed with a kindred heartache as he spoke of his wife. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes as he told of finding Tamar, hurt and dying. How could anything be so cruel? Eliac - he had been a terrible accident. Tamar, that had been done on purpose.

As the drykas suggest they go outside, Khiara nodded and stood, wiping her eyes and cheeks as she stood. Looking at the food, she shook her head.

"I'm not really all that hungry anymore." She said softly. As she followed him out, the vantha put a hand on his arm.

"I knew Vanator. You said nothing when we first met, but I could feel something. See something. I am sorry, truely. You loved her, very much. I can see it in your face." Looking up at him as they walked, she squeezed him arm gently before dropping her hand. Taking a deep breath, she blinked away the tears that still wanted to come back, knowing if she started it would be hard to stop.

[Vanator]

Vanator wasn't quite sure why he chose then to reveal the story behind his Lacun mark. The moment had been about Khiara, her terrible loss, a tragedy that drove her thousands of miles from her home. Her's was a fresh wound still, he could see as she struggled to restrain her tears and still her quivering voice. Maybe it was the intense empathetic emotion that gripped Van's heart as he saw her helplessness, the pain in the Vantha's soft eyes that he knew all too well. It compelled him to try and comfort her in some way. Perhaps, he thought, knowing she was not alone in her sorrow would offer some consolation. Vanator too had lost his appetite, and took only the mug of mead as he lead Khiara out the rear of the tavern to a grassy spot behind the pavilion where they had a bit more privacy. He was touched by her compassion. Even as she suffered from the memories he had caused her to recount, Khiara was offering him comfort. The Drykas smiled at her gratefully. Finding what appeared to be a green table cloth tossed over a log, Vanator took it and laid in on a patch of fresh, dry grass. He sat down, reaching his hand to Khiara as an offer to sit across from him. Van took another swig of his drink, savoring the honey, yeasty flavor, then set it aside. He hesitated asking any other questions, lest Khiara fall apart. But he knew sometimes that was the best comfort. Kavala had told him so. Only with his sister had Vanator unleashed the fullness of his grief at the loss of Tamar. Akela would have mocked him, and he did not want her to think less of him, though he would never tell her. Finding Khiara's eyes, The Drykas reached over and took her hands in his. He had not known the Vantha long, but a powerful kinship had been revealed, a sudden friendship that he could not have shared with others. She could see the sincerity in his gaze, no ulterior motive or hidden agenda, only sympathy and understanding. "Khiara, I know the grief you are trying to keep inside. Don't hold it in. We are alone, I will think no less of you, but will share in your sorrow. Cleansing comes from grieving."

[Khiara]

Sitting quietly beside the man, Khiara was grateful for the quiet and the solitude. It was a remembered comfort. How long had she travelled, how far had she come? She'd locked herself away for many moons at home, facing the world with only half a soul. However, then she had stolen away with nothing but a stallion for a companion, never staying to long in once place, never venturing north. How long did she plan to run? How far would she go before her heart would let him go.

Looking up at the flecked eyes of the drykas, she accepted his hand in its gesture of comfort and friendship. Vanator's words rang right and true in her ears, but the vantha had spent so long running from her grief, she wasn't sure if she could handle letting go of her carefully constructed wall. Opening her mouth to speak, to take a breath, her almost drab violet eyes brimmed, and a sudden burst of tears spilled down her cheeks. Closing her eyes, the woman raised a hand to cover them, shaking her head with a soft cry.

"I should have tried harder to stop him." She whispered brokenly between breathless sobs. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and sighed, meeting his gaze again.

"The further away I get from avanthal, the less I thought I would hurt. But it's just a distraction. If I have time to think, too much time to myself...I see his face...and I want to die." Voice breaking, Khiara quietly struggled against the heavier grief that crept into her sobs. Pressing her hand to her chest, the vantha squeezed the leather of her dress tightly, nails digging into the thick material.

"I don't know what to do anymore, where to go. I..." Gasping a breath, she shook her head, holding his gaze once more.

"How do you keep going, when everything is gone?" It wasn't just a statement, it was a question, a pleading enquiry for a light at the end of the dark tunnel.

[Vanator]

Vanator's chest ached for Khiara. He knew the pain, the guilt, the hopelessness. He had had Kavala and his family to help him grieve Tamar. Even then, there was nothing they could do to completely heal his rent heart. Khiara seemed to have had no one to walk her through her suffering, or offer any comfort. maybe she didn't let anyone, after all, she fled all she had known. As Khiara's tears began to flow, her resilience failing, Vanator shifted next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder and holding her gently. He no longer was concerned with decorum, only seeing a friend in need. The Vantha's guilt was voiced in her sobbed statement. Van also knew that guilt. If only they could have stopped their loved ones from leaving, they would have never been lost. Over and over well meaning friends told him it was not his fault, he could not have known what would happen. It did little to appease him. Knowing that things could have been different was enough to send him spiraling into self-blame. Nevertheless, Vanator felt compelled to offer some consolation. "We could not have kept them from doing what they did Khiara. They would not have let us anyway. Tamar and Eliac were doing what the were meant to do. I know that is little comfort. But they would not want us to blame ourselves." "Time, not distance, is the only hope we have to overcome our sorrow Khiara. It has been five years for me. I have much to distract me. But I still have those moments when I feel alone and the emptiness is overwhelming. I have learned, not to forget, but to selectively remember. I recall the best of her, the best times. " "Once, I thought vengeance would still the hurt. Last season I made a foolish journey to a Zith colony. I was beside myself with rage, only remembering Tamar's death, letting it fuel my hate and consume my mind. I very easily could have been killed. Even after spilling Zith blood, the pain remained. I know she would not have wanted me to do that." His head titled to rest against hers, Khiara's silky black hair scented with something pleasant but unfamiliar. "In the end, all we can do is live day to day."

[Khiara]

Leaning into him, Khiara accepted the hug for what it was, comfort. Shoulder shaking as she quietly cried, she nodded slightly as he spoke of remembering the best of times. Five years on, he had the experiance and knowledge of how to move on. The vantha couldn't see past the next sunrise. It was so fresh, so deep. The part that crushed her the most was the stolen future. There should be a mark on her neck, on her sternum...but fate had stolen that. Damn fate.

Closing her eyes as she felt him rest against her hair, she frowned. Opening them again, she pulled away slightly so she could look up at him, her eyes streaked with muted gold.

"I don't think Eliac wanted this for me either, just as your Tamar wouldn't have wanted you to walk into your possible destruction. Love can hurt as much as it can heal. Somehow, I think they saved us though. Your lucky your alive to tell that story after that. And I've travelled without care whether I live or die. The only reason I fled with you the otherday at the river was Pygmy. Otherwise..." The vantha dropped her gaze again, knowing she didn't need to finish the sentence. Sitting quietly, her sobs abated for now, the young woman felt a type of weary release. It had felt good to talk, even if it hurt like hell. Wiping her eyes, she hesitated before asking her next question.

"How do you...deal...with your emotions? Your feelings? I find myself feeling guilty, like I'm betraying Eliac, if I feel...close...to others." Khiara looked at her hands as she spoke, bottom lip quivering slightly as she tried to explain her thoughts. She felt winded as she spoke of Eliac, and tears threatened to brim - still too soon after her emotional release to stop them completely. Sighing, she shook her head a wiped her cheeks.

"You don't have to answer that. It's a stupid question." The woman said softly, embarassed at herself and her outburst. Vunerable and open, it wasn't how she'd survived the aftermath. It wasn't an accustomed feeling.

[Vanator]

Vanator slid his arm from around Khiara, though he remained close, his shoulder against hers. The Vantha had seemed to regain her composure, though Van now saw how deeply she despaired. He remembered sharply that sense of despair. The Drykas rested his arms on his knees, hands clasped. His mug of mead sat forgotten on the ground at his feet. The sounds of voices and clattering dinnerware within the tavern drifted out on the evening air. Dim light from a fire heating a large vat of water nearby cast an orange glow on Khiara, highlighting vague gold streaks in her deep black hair. After contemplating the Vantha's question, Van looked into her eyes before turning his glance to his hands. "Khiara, after I lost Tamar. I did not want anyone. I was basically a walking dead man. I could not bring myself to consider taking someone else into my heart, making that kind of commitment, the pain was too great to imagine ever having to go through again." He glanced again at Khiara, then back down. He felt somewhat uncomfortable with the subject, but after looking into the Vantha's multi-hued gaze, seeing the need for some comfort, Van continued. "There have been other women since then. Oddly enough, I did not feel guilty. They were always meaningful to me, and I guess I received some comfort and consolation from them, they are my friends. I guess Tamar would want me to love. But I just can't bring myself to marry again, for someone else to take her place. Maybe that is where my guilt would lay." Turninig back to Khiara again, Van studied her. She was lovely in a foreign way, from her skin to her eyes to her long hair a woman of deep rich color. She appeared too young to have suffered such loss, to have journeyed so far. "With the love Eliac had for you, don't you think that, no matter what, he would want you to be happy, to be cared for, to be loved? Even if it could no longer be him?"

[Khiara]

The vantha listened to every word, heart beating in her ears as his flecked eyes held her attention. She couldn't see herself finding consolation in others, but then again, she'd never given anyone the chance. After locking herself away, Khiara had fled Avanthal, moving through Mizahar so fast, she'd not had time to make friendships or even relationships.

Now she did have friends, she didn't know what to do with herself. One was a lively and friendly creature that the vantha wasn't sure she could live without. The other was a handsome and kind soul that made her feel giddy, worried and excited all at once. She could see how much Pygmy adored him, and she knew that something was stirring between them...but the butterflies in her stomach still danced about, and she hated herself for it.

As Vanator spoke Eliac's name, Khiara nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The tears had stopped, and her almost lavender eyes seemed unable to look away. In the warm orange glow of the firelight, Vanator's hair glowed a rich gold and his features seemed stronger, more chiseled. The drykas was closer to her than she'd realized, and breathing though slightly parted lips, Khiara found herself frozen, like a deer caught in the hunter's sights.

[Vanator]

The meaning of his last words rang in Vanator's own ears. Kavala had spoken those words to him. She was close to Tamar, had grieved bitterly with him. Had anyone else uttered those words to him, he would have simply smiled politely and returned to his misery. But his sister meant the world to him and so did her advice. It helped him to move on with his life. Vanator was looking at Khiara, almost staring at her soft lavender irises. She did not move, her breathes lightly brushing against his face. He had not realized how close he had leaned towards the woman. His gaze plumbed the depths Khiara's eyes, finding loneliness, heartache and confusion. He knew what those emotions felt like when they gripped your soul. His eyes shifted for just a moment to enjoy the soft curves of her face, olive-colored and smooth. Lifting his gaze to hers again, Vanator moved. It was not premeditated, happening before he even realized it. The Drykas leaned towards Khiara, pausing only a hair's breath from her face, sealing off his deep glance with closed lids. He followed through, his lips pressing softly against Khiara's, tasting the sweet wine that stained them. His hand instinctively lifted to her face, fingers resting lightly against her jaw.

[Khiara]

It was like watching another person from a distance, and Khiara was only a spectator. As she sat, frozen in place, she could feel the warmth of Vanators skin, so close to hers. Glancing down as his face paused, only a hair away from hers, the woman closed her eyes, not sure whether she should move away or lean in. A surge of butterflies churned in her stomach, and she took a breath, beginning to open her eyes to turn away.

But then, the drykas' lips were pressed to hers. Warm, soft, and familar. It had been so long since she'd felt like this. A calm settled on the vantha, and she lost her train of thought. All that existed right now was herself and Vanator, alone and together. Sighing softly, she responded to the gentle kiss, relishing the roughness of his hand on her cheek. It felt like it lasted an eternity, but it was only a moment. Suddenly, an image crossed her mind. Pygmy.

Breaking away, Khiara looked down with an anguished expression.

"No...this is wrong. Pygmy is my friend and I.." Her now gold eyes looked at Vanator with almost pained desperation. Goddess, how was this fair? To loose her heart in tragedy, only to start finding it again with betrayal? Something somewhere must find her life a cruel joke. Moving back from Vanator, the vantha shook her head.

"I'm sorry." She said softly, stumbling to her feet and fleeing. Running hard, her heart pounding in her chest, she found her way back to her pavillion. Throwing herself inside, she collapsed on her bedding, tears streaming down her cheeks. What had she done...why would the Goddess find her someone that she couldn't have? Sitting crossed legged on her bed, she buried her face in one of the soft pillows and cried.

For Eliac.

For Pygmy.

For Vanator.

For herself.

[Vanator]

Even as their kiss lingered for a moment, Van knew it was a mistake. As their lips parted and Khiara looked away, he saw the twist of her features. He did not quite understand what Pygmy had to do with it, though the Kelvic did show a lot of fondness towards him, even in the few days she had been in Endrykas. Though the sudden sign of affection did reveal he felt something for Khiara, he regretted his poor timing. It was still too soon for her, and he crossed a line. Khiara's eyes had turned blazing gold and were wide with heartache and unspoken pain. Van began to apologize as she stood, but the Vantha turned and was gone before he found the words. Vanator started to go after Khiara, but upon second thought halted. He had done enough damage. He lowered his head, cursing his own lack of discretion and prayed he had not lost her as a friend. Stooping to pick up the mug of mead, he downed the remaining contents and set it on the log. The guilt-wracked Drykas took the long way home, his stride slow and pensive. Van did not want to have to explain to Pygmy what had happened.