Completed Oddity In the Park

[Chaude]

30th of Fall, 712 AV



Purchasing more strips of Jerky, Chaude relishes the setting of the Dusk, and the faint outline of the Moon coming out to play. Taking a scenic route through Syliras, the Stone Garden had peeked his interest the other day. The knights seem to tolerate his presence. They are bold sometimes. If only he could get one of them to a duel for fun.

Strolling through, he saw a woman leave rather quickly to his presence. Not the first to scare a Human away lately. They lacked a bold spirit. Circling around to a little pond with some sculptures. Few torches were lit, which was fine with him. Darkness was his eyes.

The level of detail of craftsmanship is something to awe about. Chaude is far from being able to make something as inspiring as these. He'll have to ask someone what they mean. Though once he gets some servants, he could have these or better. Other Zith will have to be in awe.

Admiring the sculptures for a few ticks longer, he resumed his nightly strolls around town. He lazily walks over to the other side of the garden.

[Crypt]

30th of Fall, 512 AV

Crypt wandered through the Stone Garden of Syliras alone. Maras had elected to take a rest early after dinner. Bored, Crypt had strolled past the Stone Garden and decided that it looked rather interesting in the pale moonlight, and so chose to take a stroll in the shadows of the Garden.

Fiddling with the mask he wore, he took it off, preferring to not let anything hinder his view. Hanging it by his side, he started a long, slow stroll towards the little pond he saw in the distance.

Watching the birds fly from the boughs of the dark trees, he smiled to himself as he recalled a incident long past, back when he first met Maras, his steed. Unfortunately, this reminiscence caused him to nearly collide with a person.

“My apologies, sir-” He paused in his speech as he beheld the dark visage, though brightened somewhat with the cold light of the Moon, of a Zith, a race he had only read about and never met in reality. Until now, perhaps. Had he met one before?

“My most sincere apologies, sir. My name is Crypt Insatem. And you are?” He gave a slight bow to the Zith, curious to know more of his race.

[Chaude]

A wandering Human was musing himself, walking straight towards Chaude. Instinctively, he stood still, watching with benefits of the night time sky. It was in this position that made Chaude feel torn deep down. The lust in the pounce, the warmth spray of...

Distracted, the Human had almost collided into him. Bold indeed. Taken a step into a thin sliver lining of the moon's light, curiosity took hold from the Human's introduction.

"...Chaude," he muttered with a low Baritone voice. "Crypt Insatem."

Gazing up to the shining moon, the atmosphere felt as though Chaude was dedicating something to memory. The Human's name, the potential to learn more about their race, and closer to his Zith goals. He averts his gaze back to Crypt.

"Will you teach me the sculpture's meaning?" Chaude inquired as his wing unfolds to reveal his arm extended. Claw finger pointing to the three sculptures at the little pond nearby.

Crypt could see in the moonlight that with one wing exposed he could barely make out of a journal clutched in the other hand, tucked further in by the other wing.

[Crypt]

When a wing of the Zith unfolded, Crypt gazed at its structure, the shades of colour it held. Claude's baritone voice resounded deep through him, as if he was someone important to him.

Fascinating.

Crypt inclined his head slightly to show his assent.

“I may be considered young among the Drykas and humans, but I shall try my best to determine the meaning. I see you have there a journal; are you a seeker of knowledge perhaps, or just one that enjoys recording his thoughts?”

Without waiting for a reply, he walked over to the small, delicately carved sculptures indicated by the clawed finger of Chaude. Running his fingers gently all over the weathered surfaces of the sculptures, he pondered for a moment before turning to Chaude, smiling slightly as he realised the simple message.

“Well,” he began, “This is but a small monument to the Lights we see in the night sky. See you the shimmering lady upon which are carved the Stars, such that she blends in with the stars carved around her? That is her. I well remember her image, for my father and I-” He faltered for a moment, before recovering. “We sang to her Children - the Stars - and the Moon many a night, and she graced us with her presence only once. And next to her stands Leth, he who is God of the Moon; he stands defiant and strong, gazing to the East, awaiting the rise of his Lover, Syna of the Sun, in sunrise or sundown.”

Crypt paused for a moment, picking up a pebble from the ground and threw it into the pond. Ripples emerged from where it sank. He waited until the surface of the pond was calm again.

“And this pond completes the monument. Do we not see the stars and the Moon in its mirror-like surface?”

[Chaude]

Striding over, Chaude kneels beside the small pond, taking another look at the sculptures and the stars reflecting off the water's surface. So that was its meaning. It has a tale of lovers and struggle. Chaude was uncertain why this 'shimming lady' and Leth were on bad terms if Leth was defiant and looking away from the lady.

"I see the stars in the water before me," almost producing another squeak, Chaude managed to keep his voice regulated this time. "Is this 'shimmering lady' you speak of named Drykas?"

Gazing in anticipation to Crypt's answers, someone's torch behind the bushes was passing by, catching his attention. Standing up, he sets his journal down and watches as the light kept moving. As the light was no longer visible, Chaude started to relax before diverting his attention back to Crypt.

"Sorry, continue please."

[Crypt]

Ignoring the unusual sound that once again came from Chaude's mouth as a verbal tic, Crypt continued his informal lecture.

“She is Fallen.”

He threw another pebble into the pond, watching the image of the Moon shift and change.

“She is Zintila, Goddess of the Stars. Much was her power once, but she sacrificed most of her power to save her mother, Semele, Goddess of the Earth during the Valterrian, or so the books of my uncle that I perused say. I know not why the people have placed Leth and Zintila in such a position, where Leth looks away from her, but perhaps it is an indication of the vast difference in their status.”

Crypt got up with a sigh, brushing away dust from his pants.

“Drykas is my mother's race. I am born of Human male, named Insatem, and Drykas female named Lyran Whitemane of the Diamond clan. The Drykas are horsemen and horsewomen that live in Cyphrus. We are all connected together by the webs, of which the exact workings I cannot tell. Those who are skilled in its workings and manipulation are able to derive information from most anything connected to the webs. My father has been claimed by death, but returned to the grasslands as is his due. I... still have problems dealing with it. I'd rather not speak of it now.”

He gazed up at the stars.

“We used to sing to the Stars and the Moon...”

[Chaude]

Status was something Chaude knew all too well from where he came from. It was the very fundamental reason why he's even here to begin with. Seeking more of it. He nods, wishing to speak in turn.

"Status to Zith is important. Determines much between Zith families."

Mental note alert: Drykas is a race, not a person's name. Seeing Crypt gazing up to the dark sky and all of its brilliant lights, it had occurred to Chaude that he's growing more and more curious about this Crypt Insatem. Why?

Taking better note, Crypt looked sadden since mentioning about his father. Why? Death happens all the time.

"Horsemen are bold. You are of Horsemen. Be bold, be proud..." Chaude expands his wings gloriously before retracting them back, "...of your father's time here. Grasslands yield to Horsemen. Much stories your father had during his time here."

[Crypt]

“Aye.” Crypt whispered.

“Death occurs often in the Sea of Grass, but his death affected me too much. We spent six years together, living in the Sea of Grass, eschewing any form of civilisation. We returned to our pavilion only when we had to. My mother would accompany us sometimes. He was my father, but he was my friend, my teacher, my comrade in arms, my companion, my protector...”

“I am of Horseman blood, true, but my father only became one when his Strider, his steed, chose him after he successfully defended my maternal grandmother's pavilion from an attack by glassbeaks. He came from this very city, Syliras, where he served as a guard of the Main Gates, but left when he discovered the wanderlust that runs in my veins. Yes, we Horsemen are a proud and bold race, but I am but a fledgeling in the eyes of my elders. It has only been a little less than eleven years since my Strider Maras chose me, and I am still a novice in horse riding. But!”

Crypt abruptly turned to Chaude, giving a small smile, a light now dancing in his eyes.

“I have done most of the talking, but it is now your turn to take the stage. Tell me of your life as a Zith, your Family, maybe even teachers in what crafts or arts you may pursue.”

[Chaude]

Crypt's sudden attention giver role switch caught Chaude a bit off guard with a slight tilt of his head. Mentor mentioned that Humans are just as curious too, and is their way of respecting the person they're talking with.

Feeling honored, Chaude thinks of where to start. Storytelling wasn't something he normally did. The adult males tend to do that a lot whenever they returned from a successful hunt.

"Zith...live simple. Eat, mate, hunt. Other races hate when we eat their kind, unless we own slaves. Family's status thrived on slaves. Breeding, raising, training. Slaves weak-willed, not bold in spirit. Servants strong-willed, bold. Ran away from own family, own twin, to join another family that knew better."

Thinking of what to say one moment after another, a couple of squeaks shrilled out here and there from losing some composure. This was probably one of the most times Chaude spoken in Human tongue since arriving in Syliras. It felt awkward yet rewarding.

"Mentor taught me Reimancy, how to speak and read Human tongue, and gave me ideas. Was too young to join adult males in hunting. Foster mother introduced me to Mentor. Much more to learn to lead new generation of family. Carry journal to learn other cultures. Challenge the elders gave me to be accepted into foster family."

Sounding more and more excited to share, it's usually at this point that many in his blood family circle would've told him to be silent and watch some pitted Humans battle it out for sport.

He became quiet after thinking of that thought.

"Seeking inspiration to become bolder. That was my idea for coming here tonight. You helped with sculpture's meaning. Curious Human, no, Crypt Insatem, curious."

[Crypt]

Crypt contemplated Chaude's words for a while, then spoke.

“My thanks for your compliment. It seems that we both seek to learn more about this very world. Your speech is marred by uncertainties, but perfect otherwise. It is an excellent effort compared to some I have met. I presume that you haven't had much practice with speakers of the Human tongue?”

He paused for a moment, wetting his lips and throat with a sip from his waterskin.

“The life of a Zith seems rather... simple but interesting. It seems that I have found a kindred spirit here, for I too am against slavery. 'Tis better to have paid servants, for oftentimes they are much more loyal and provide a higher quality of service. I must commend you on your bravery in running away from your family. I would never have dared to do such a thing when I was young.”

Crypt took a few steps towards a small oak tree, slowly and steadily.

“This Mentor of yours... He must have been a teacher well-educated in the ways of the Humans. Is he Zith?”

Crypt took another step.

“For all that we have in common, our paths may very well run together. You speak of Reimancy, did you not? Perhaps you could show me a small example? Not too large, of course, we wouldn't want to draw the attention of the guards. It has been a long time since I met a student of the art.”