Closed Fraint and the Koten Temple

[Fraint]

Season of Winter, Day 25, 512 AV A day after his arrival, Fraint decided that the first thing to do was to visit the most prominent, notable landmarks in Lhavit. As he lay in bed the previous night, his chest was welled up with a tight feeling of anxiousness and giddiness, and not a wink of rest was shed. However, Fraint stood dutifully; smack dab in the middle of the square, and the sun was well about to set behind the majestic peaks that the surreal city was known for. His eyes were bright and chipper and his lips threatened to reveal a smile that was most conventional to his visage… to any other person. If there was no reason to, nobody would catch the solemn man cracking a silly grin. Intelligent blue eyes scoured the area, taking note of the hustle and bustle that was still apparent, even though the sun had begun to gently settle behind the protection of the peaks, the 19th bell having just passed. Dusk Rest was over now, and the local Lhavitians were scurrying about, socializing merrily. The air was suffused with a feeling of enjoyment and relaxation. He noted that they were much more lax during the night, their dutiful demeanors fading away as Syna’s glow disappeared. He still had to get used to their sleeping schedule, but in due time. For now, he felt the need to just let loose. Spotting a pair of Lhavitians chatting happily, he couldn’t help but allow a quiet grin to decorate his face, his countenance seeming to grow brighter. The feeling of joy still hadn’t faded since the moment he first set foot in the city a day ago, and he felt that it would remain for a long time. He leaned on one foot, feeling the weight shift from one leg to another, and scratched the back of his head as he thought about what he should do. Actually, he thought, it would be more appropriate to think about where I should start. He knew that his main purpose for coming here was to behold the Koten Temple, as it was where Zintila herself would reside. The feeling of anxiety mixed with his abundant happiness, creating a new, vivid sensation that he both liked and hated. The whole scale of it all overwhelmed Fraint in such a way that caused him to wonder if he should be crying tears of joy or suffering from a panic attack. Both would look unceremonious in public. He took another chime to study the magnificent structure that was known as the Koten Temple. As far as he was concerned, it was architectural perfection. Besides that, the temple itself glowed with a celestial radiance that could only mean that it had been blessed by the divine being whose domain were the stars. Fraint’s arms folded across his chest and his brows furrowed together as he regarded the temple. Was he allowed to go inside? He didn’t know – it might have been considered rude. Fraint realized, again with a mix of joy and pity, that his knowledge of Lhavit was incredibly sparse. As such, Fraint stood there. Question marks were practically scrawled onto his handsome face as he decided how to proceed from his position right in front of the temple, before the steps. NoteFraint is located right before the steps of Koten Temple, and it's right after Dusk Rest, which is around 19 bells. Perhaps you could situate Jo somewhere near so that he could approach her?

[Johanne]

Sitting on the steps of the Koten Temple, Johanne waited for Syna to disappear beyond the horizon for the night, and for the night to come aglow with the skyglass of Zintila. Her warm woollen cloak wrapped around her and a earthy scarf tucked around her thin neck, Johanne braved the winter night along with the other Lhavitians awakening from their dusk rest. The night was beginning, and Lhavit was awakening: a truly beautiful sight, as the plants infused with calias and the crystal buildings shone as stars on earth. On the steps of the Koten Temple, her knees drawn up to her too-thin chest, Johanne watched the city begin to breathe.

It was strange. She had lived in the small town of Denval from birth to her nineteenth winter, and had always felt outside of the skeleton of the town. She was an outsider looking in, observing those with swords and diligence, the ones like Eosi who were bold and seductive. Even in the chilling Winter night, with the lights of the plaza being lit one by one as the shadows came, Johanne's cheeks flushed, remembering Eosi's particular boldness. Johanne had never possessed that bravery. She had never possessed Denvalian spirit.

And so she had come to Lhavit. Here, the sailors who ventured beyond the bay had said, was a town where goddesses moved amongst their devoted, and the fallen children wandered amongst mortals. In Lhavit, there was art, there was longing, and there were stories. It had only been one boat ride away, something she had payed a pretty price for, but it had been worth it to escape the dull Denval. Yet Johanne had been in the city of the Stars for two years now, and still she had found no stories. Still, Zintila stayed silent, and her wishes upon the stars went unanswered.

There stood a man on the steps not too far from where she watched the plaza come alive. She spared him only a cursory glance; taking in the shadows beneath his blue eyes, and the stubble that hinted along his chin. His eyes were fixed on the temple that glowed in the oncoming night: the parlour of the Alvina Zintila and her trusted. Johanne sat so close to the goddess and yet received not a thought from the stars. It frustrated her: her own irreligiousness had been made more than clear to her in this city on the peaks. Her own insignificance echoed over cliffs.

"If but my bones were skyglass,
and the Temple merely stone,
then perhaps the stars would whisper,
and lend me stories of my own."

The quiet whisper filled the air around Johanne: a brief rhyme, a little poem, and something altogether unremarkable. She sighed into the night. Without her ink and paper, her words were truly inadequate.

[Fraint]

The man raised his head thoughtfully, studying the magnificence of the Koten Temple. How the man longed to marvel at the blessed temple from the inside. The mere thought of it sent unconventional goose bumps running up his arms and crawled across his skin. The feelings that he’d imagined were so vivid that he could almost feel the feeling of having his breath taken away by sheer beauty. The ceilings would represent the stars themselves, and even he couldn’t put together words to describe what he was imagining. He wasn’t much of an imagination man – he preferred it when it was black and white for him to understand, though the thought at picking apart a sort of grey area through various interpretations, backed-up theorems and a hearty, intellectual conversation with pretty much anyone was also perfectly welcome. He could adapt, as long as his insatiable curiosity was satisfied. That would prove to be nigh impossible, as his insatiable curiosity continued to grow each day. The fact that he now stood in the city of his dreams would cause his inquiries to soar far into the night sky. He realized that he’d been zoning out for a few chimes, and he shook his head slightly. Inwardly, he chastised himself, but a more light-hearted slice of his persona laughed. It was to be expected, and he knew that. He was being a bit too hard on himself, but, well, old habits die hard. He had an appearance to keep up. The question still lingered amongst the corners of his mind. Was he allowed inside the Koten Temple? That was what he wanted to know, and the desperation occurring from the need for an answer was almost painful, though on the exterior he remained calm and nonchalant. He folded his arms thoughtfully across his chest, his blue eyes narrowing in concentration. Certainly, it couldn’t hurt to ask. It would be an innocent question, a simple inquiry. Certainly nobody would expect much from a humble tourist such as himself? As the thought humble were in the midst of being thought by his brain, another slice of his persona let out a grim chuckle. Humble was the worst trait to describe him with, in his opinion. Somebody else would think otherwise, but Fraint was well aware of the depth of his personality – or so he thought. There was hope yet, but the light was to far away for him to pursue. For now, his goal was enlightenment. His head tilted slightly to one side as his final thoughts had been thought, and he then proceeded to steer his gaze to the near right. The first person he spotted was a placid girl sitting atop the steps that led to the Koten Temple, with tangled brown hair and fair complexion – she was pretty. Fraint wouldn’t deny it. His body started towards her, but he hesitated. He was still extremely self-conscious of himself, and he had this awful habit of imagining the worst just as he started something (that dark version of him laughed once again; just a few moments before, he’d been described as “not much of an imagination man”). Still, his need for an answer acted as his drive. His body continued, one foot in front of the other; rinse and repeat. He briefly heard the sounds of a voice speaking the words of what seemed like poetry to him. A curious gaze landed on his target. He found himself in front of the woman, with a tight-lipped smile on his face and seemingly relaxed posture. As he snuck in a closer look, he found that freckles danced across her face and pink lips were apparent. However, past endeavors allowed him to swallow his consciousness until he felt abominable. He took great care to ensure that none of his emotions would leak onto his exterior appearance. “Good evening, Miss,” he murmured quietly, just loud enough so that the girl would’ve been able to make out his words. “I’ve been thinking… about that temple. The Koten Temple.” He pointed in the direction of the divine building that stood in front of him and behind her; a useless gesture – the girl would obviously know what he was talking about. It was just for the sake of small talk. “Are... tourists allowed entry?” Fraint still liked to consider himself a tourist, which probably was the right term to be used for somebody of his status – he’d only entered Lhavit yesterday, yet he had an apartment in which to sleep in. “It’d be a pity if it weren’t so.”

[Johanne]

The Surya Plaza bustled without a second thought to her spindly elbows and her discontent heart. Johanne sat with her chin upon her knobbly knees, her doe eyes watching families drift into restaurants, laughing. Lovers arm in arm through the cold and the skyglass. Old women sitting on glowing benches, gossiping together. Old men, stoic and watching their wives chit-chat, keeping their smiles and warm hearts tucked deep within their cloaks.

Everyone and everything moved in the Surya Plaza. Night was a time for awakenings and revelry; and yet, here sat Johanne, alone with only words for company. Poor company, at that. Poetry was a cruel mistress.

And like a cliché beginning in a two-miza story, Johanne found her vision obscured, as a body moved to stand before her. Slowly, she raised her chin, seeking out the gaze of this man who had moved before her. His body covered by cloth to keep him warm in the winter night, it was nevertheless obvious that there was a strength possessed within his frame: his stance strong, his shoulders broad. His brown hair was as tangled as her own, and his blue eyes pierced like ice. Johanne did not smile in greeting, nor frown in disapproval. Her face stayed as neutral, as unassuming as time. It was her experience that he would begin the story for them both. She need only react.

Johanne cocked her head, and listened to the innocuous beginning. Not bad. Simple, direct, to the point: and yet asking a question could lead down dangerous roads. Perhaps this was a story worth pursuing. She kept silent while he pointed, his finger strong, unquavering: he knows what he wants, then. Her pink lips stayed closed, and her eyes simply surveyed. There was no judgement or dismissal within them. She was simply watching the story unfold.

Johanne knew that was the best way to see the narrative in all its beauty and transcendence. Only when he had trailed to a halt on his last sentence, after all his questions had been posed, and he had spoken his piece, did she reply.

"Good evening, Sir." Oddly formal, but he had called her miss. It was important to match his tone. One could not have conflicting styles within a narrative. It jarred the audience. "Tourists are indeed allowed entry to the Koten Temple. They always have been." There was a lengthy pause. Perhaps so long that Fraint would think that she had disengaged already, but then, all of a sudden, she unfolded her long limbs, and stood, her cloak flowing around her tall thin frame.

It was up to her to move the story forward, after all.

"A tourist, then? How long have you been in Lhavit?" Her tone was quiet, though vaguely interested. Though she kept up her facade, she really was not interested in specifics for him as an individual. It was easier to stay distant. To gather. "Zintila may reside within. I do not know what the Goddess does on long winter nights, but there is a chance she is inside." She paused.

"Would you like to come inside with me? I've been inside a few times. I can be your guide, as it were. A tourist always needs to know where to go." Just like a novellist needs to have a plot. This man, for the night, would be Johanne's plot, her protagonist.

[Fraint]

Fraint held his steadfast gaze, his lips tight and his chest a flurry of whirling emotions. It was funny how somebody could hold so much inside. When one compared the exterior to the interior, they’d find a vast difference of feelings and sentiments. On the outside, one may look calm and seemed to handle everything with poise and grace. However, if you were to look on the inside of that same individual, one might be surprised to find a torrent of insecurity and turbulence. This described Fraint to a degree – certainly he’d be able to visit the Koten Temple. As he broke away from her inquisitive gaze, he noted that people were freely entering and exiting. Suddenly, the man knew the answer before he’d even heard the girl talk, and he now felt the need to abscond from the lingering presence of humiliation. His cheeks flushed slightly, though whether it was from the cold of the night or the blood rushing to his face from embarrassment, he didn’t know. A brief thought occurred to him, and he entertained the thought of leaving the girl before she got a chance to speak, and simply make way for the temple ahead. However, that would be incredibly rude, and Fraint was one to hold up appearances. It would certainly not help his position if people witnessed him abandoning a girl in such a rush – perhaps the girl would be the one to spread the gossip herself. However, looking at her once more, she didn’t seem the type. He didn’t know how he came to this conclusion. The girl did not reply right away. She had waited for the moment that his words would trail off into oblivion, where they would become lost in the large wave of chatter that had become their background song. She was a polite girl. Fraint described her as a girl because, at the moment, she was seated on the steps and he was not able to assess her full height. He was once again tempted to leave in a hurry, but it was then when the girl chose to acknowledge his presence by answering in kind. On the interior, he breathed a sigh of relief, the bottled up anxiety welling up in his chest seeming to disappear slightly. Slightly. Her tone was formal, he realized, and if he were hoping for some sort of intimate exchange, then he was to blame for her behavior. She confirmed his suspicions by saying that tourists were indeed allowed entry, and as a way to mask his negative sentiments, he allowed the quiet grin decorating his visage to grow wider. Fraint was about to reply, as the pause had jarred him, and found himself taking in a breath to begin speaking. However, just as the words were about to escape parted lips, the girl began again, and he caught himself. It was just as well, because if he’d continued, he would’ve completely interrupted her, and that was, strictly speaking, rude. So he held his ground. He also realized that the “girl” was taller than him. It was a good thing that he’d approached her with these thoughts in mind, otherwise it may have appeared that he were degrading her, and that just wouldn’t do. She mentioned Zintila, and the grin froze on his face. There was a chance that he’d be able to actually meet the fabled deity, whose domain were the vast, dark canvas decorated by sparkling bits of light known as stars? Another emotion was thrown into the mix – worry. This was one level higher than his anxiety. The thought that he may actually meet Zintila Herself was almost too good to be true, and he suddenly found himself looking at the girl with cynicism. His eyes narrowed slightly, which reflected the exact opposite of what was going on inside him right now. However, the movement was unconscious, something that came to him naturally, so there was no way for him to adjust his exterior appearance without looking strange. He resisted the urge to fold his arms, which would signify that he was regarding her with a great deal of skepticism. The woman offered to show him around the temple, and he nearly lost himself. His excitement was overwhelmed by both his anxiety and his overall character, which allowed him to act with some dignity and poise. “In fact,” he started evenly, “I’ve only been in Lhavit for a day now. Soon to be two days.” He offered a strained smile in his direction as he fought to keep up his gentlemanly exterior. “Regarding the offer… I’d love to. It’s very kind of you to offer.” Fraint realized that he hadn’t introduced himself yet, and proceeded to do so. “Excuse me. My name is Fraint Clementine. You may call me Fraint.” The barrage of questions would have to wait. He held his ground, painfully, as he impatiently waited for the woman to continue.

[Johanne]

OOCGod, I'm sorry. This took me so long.

Johanne watched the way he kept his arms evenly by his sides, the way his eyebrows slightly furrowed when he spoke, the way his eyes darted around the square as if to take in every sight he could. Her head tilted, she observed the man in all his strange inconsistencies: his body seemed tense, as if he were holding something powerful and passionate inside that may burst at any time, and yet his words were soft and measured, formal and perfect in their consistency and tone. Perhaps this man had had training. Perhaps he was simply a man of contradictions. Still, Johanne could not help but wonder what would have his heart quivering so.

She returned the small smile, though hers seemed far less strained, far more natural. It was a small admission of interest and curiosity. Johanne would have spent her evening on the steps, before, with frozen joints, wandering back to her room and falling asleep without glancing at the stars for fear of heartbreak. Here stood a man who had travelled with Lhavit and had a desire to see the temple. Johanne was curious why, even if Zintila was too far up above the rest of the mere mortals to care.

"Fraint," she slowly repeated, tasting the words on her tongue. "Fraint Clementine." They tasted like Spring to Johanne, like someone searching for new beginnings and rebirths. It was a light name, a name that seemed to hint at elegance and togetherness. She smiled, suddenly. "I like it. I am Johanne." Names were important.

Gesturing towards the Koten Temple with sweeping hand, she turned and slowly began to walk up the multitude of steps as she approached the skyglass doors that shone as brightly as the stars. "Why Lhavit?" Johanne asked, holding her cloak wrapped tightly around her chilly frame. "And how did you travel here? From where, if I may ask?" Perhaps the barrage of questions was a little impertinent, but he was her protagonist. A background was always important. It gave the hero context in the movements and the actions of now.

"I myself am not from Lhavit," she conceded, nearing the tops of the stairs. "I'm from Denval. It is not far from here, though one can only travel by boat. I left two years ago. I've been in this city ever since." Johanne looked over her shoulder at the Surya Plaza, before quickly turning back to the skyglass doors, magnificently carved with the images of the stars.

"Are you ready?" She watched his reaction carefully. She wanted to see that passion close to the edge of his skin.

[Fraint]

A warm, gentle smile was returned to him, unlike his tense and vexed excuse of a grin. Perhaps she’d known that the lifting of the corners of his lips were fake—she seemed to be giving off this all-knowing, yet quite and wise aura. However, that was Fraint’s naivety speaking. She repeated his name—twice. Perhaps she liked the sound of it, or was simply confirming that she’d gotten it right. In response, the brunet nodded slowly, carefully, self-assured. The thought that she liked the sound of her own voice crossed his mind, but he dismissed it with a mental wave of his hand that resulted with a grim smile decorating his facial features, a corner of his lip lifted upwards to reflect his amusement. Another smile was shot in his direction—amusingly, it was an action that a man as atrocious as he (or, that was what he was led to believe) did not deserve. It was a smile, followed by an alias, the words exiting through slightly parted lips as he absorbed it, remembered it. He returned the gesture with a small, crooked grin of his own. “Johanne,” he repeated, confirming his memory with a curt nod of his head. “It’s a wonderful name.” He inwardly admitted that he was laying it on thick, but what’s a gentleman if not a man who smothers his lady underneath a pile of abominable compliments that could easily be interpreted as condescending? However, in an attempt to verify his sincerity, his quiet grin broadened, making full use of his handsome facial features. With a sweeping motion filled with poise, she turned and began to walk in the direction of the divine temple. The steps carried Fraint as he followed suit, his frame small compared to Johanne’s as he walked under her, and even if they stood on equal, level ground, he was a bit disgruntled by the fact that she’d still be superior in height. And, he noted grimly, in intellect, no doubt. “I’ve come to Lhavit … well, to put it simply and keeping a long story short, I’ve come to learn,” he replied in kind, though this time, a light shone in his eyes as his animation was borderline inevitable. “I come from a humble home in Syliras. However, the more I heard about the stories and tales of countries, strife, fallacies, and celestial deities … the more my dissatisfaction grew. As you can probably guess, the tales of Zintila and her city intrigued me the most.” A curious gaze landed on his temporary guide. The talk about history had made him utterly curious about her upbringing, more about her reason … but that wouldn’t be as cordial as he’d like to behave, so he quenched his curiosity and focused his thoughts on being excited for the little trip to the temple. Johanne answered his inner thoughts, but not to the extent he’d have preferred. He decided that it wouldn’t hurt to press her a bit more. Of course, in response to her last set of words, he replied with an “eager” nod of his head, which in fact looked like a normal person’ nod. The conventional action would be the slight bob of his head, sometimes so subtle that one wouldn’t be able to discern if it were a shake of his head or a nod of approval. He followed Johanne, his curiosity getting the better of him. There were many things he could have asked. He could have asked about Zintila, the goddess of the stars. He, however, carefully filtered his thoughts until one question floated to the surface, and exited his mind through his lips. “If you don’t mind … why did you leave Denval? What is it like?” OOCOh man. This is late. I'm sorry; I've been having a bit of writer's block.

[Johanne]

Fraint's eyes seemed to alight as he told the story of his coming to Lhavit. "To learn?" Johanne repeated softly. Syliras, if Johanne remembered the maps of her childhood correctly, the ones she had poured over lovingly and desperately, was thousands of miles away from the vast mountain continent of Kalea. "That's a very long way to come just to learn. A dangerous route, too. How did you come here?" Either by the Suvan Sea, or the mountains of Kalea, death awaited on the long road to the city of the stars. To Johanne, the trip seemed foolish. To come so far for a goddess who was so distant from the world of mortals seemed to be a pointless adventure; one that would only end in disappointment. But Johanne had left her home all for the sake of a story... she was not so different from Fraint in that regard.

Johanne stood before the massive skyglass doors; perhaps the most ornate in Lhavit. Beyond these barriers perhaps stood the Star Goddess, the Alvina fallen from her home, and the Ethaefal guardians of Lhavit. She wondered if Fraint had heard of the Anchorite, and the two Ethaefal... of the Day of Discourse and the havoc it had wreaked upon the very foundation of the city. But perhaps not. Perhaps to him, Lhavit shone like the stars, a place that darkness would never touch, a place that was as holy as the Ukalas. Nothing like the upheaval Johanne had come to the city in, nothing like the reality.

He merely nodded, a reaction Johanne had not been expecting. He seemed reserved, Fraint, and polite: overly concerned with the way words sounded and how they might be interpreted by others. But for a man who had travelled miles and miles to see the Koten Temple and the Star Goddess, it seemed to be thoroughly underwhelming. A little disappointed, Johanne turned and pushed open the magnificent doors, leading Fraint into the Temple at last.

The lobby they found themselves in was wide, with the Shinya patrolling just in case of any ill will brought against the priests of Zintila and their mistress. Candles lit around the walls flickered behind sky-blue glass, and in the night, the room took on a mystical feel: all dark blues and shadows, with the darkness cut through by the glowing of the skyglass. The lobby had three doors, each leading to a strange new adventure. Johanne had been in the Temple but a few times, and even she, in all her religious doubt, could admit it was absolutely stunning.

"Well, you're here." Johanne carefully watched Fraint's expressions, the flutter of his hands, looking out for the barest change of emotion. "What do you think?" And surely, she would get more than a nod this time. Now that Fraint was finally in the Temple, surely his excitement and passion would take over the polite exterior. Surely.

In the silence while she waited for his response, she answered his question from before, taking a lead from him: being only polite. "I left Denval to look for stories. It's a small town. We were cut off from the rest of the world for nearly five hundred years. We've only just begun to rebuild. I do not miss it in the least." She rubbed her covered forearms subconsciously as she spoke, though of course Fraint could not see the scars and images that riddled her arms.

[Fraint]

“Yes,” he repeated quietly, his gaze flickering away from Johanne’s figure to the steps in which he had begun to climb. The steps were smooth and presented no difficulty whatsoever. His eyes went back to the wiry woman’s sublime silhouette once she began to speak. He listened, quietly, until a certain silence told him that he was allowed to respond. “It is a long and tiring journey that can cause one’s features to be perpetually haggard,” he admitted, even though he’d hardly gotten weary resting atop the body of a giant eagle. He clenched his fist, as though he were remembering the bubbly sentiments he’d felt during the journey through the sky, the impatience he’d experienced while he attempted to make conversation with the one at the reins. His gaze drifted to the back of the woman’s head, where her brown hair flowed down her back. “I think it was worth it, though,” he said smoothly, no hint of hesitation in his voice. “I came here atop a giant eagle,” he explained, his voice steady and his disposition patient … for the time being. “Are you aware of the fiery-haired people and their eagle mounts?” Fraint hoped that it would be all the explanation necessary, as Johanne had come across as a particularly intelligent girl in his eyes. What more, he had to admit that he didn’t exactly have a library of knowledge pertaining to the people of Wind Reach. In fact, he regretted that his knowledge was painfully non-existent. He bit his lip, hoping that the girl would steer the conversation onto another, more comfortable subject. They came before magnificent doors with impressive, skyglass-inspired aesthetics. A sharp intake of breath and the sudden tensing of his body marked his surprise, but it was quickly washed away as he assumed the nonchalance proper to a stranger, not wanting to allow his sentiments to take control. He was afraid that he’d forget to be polite and barge in without the brown-haired girl … and what would she think of him then? He glanced impatiently at Johanne, all hints of mental endurance having disappeared. The girl finally pushed open the doors to the Koten Temple. The excitement was building up in Fraint’s chest, and his conflicting feelings almost showed on his somewhat calm visage. He didn’t know if he was to drop his polite exterior and marvel like a little boy, or if he were to handle himself with a certain grace and poise, and act with dignity. He gulped, as he wasn’t so sure if he would be able to handle the latter. Whatever he chose, he wasn’t able to hold back the awe in his eyes, the light glinting off that showed how impressed he was. They widened considerably as he took the chance to lift his chin and turn his gaze heaven-ward, taken aback by the sights that were before him. It was a palace of skyglass, and he had temporarily forgotten about the presence of the girl beside him. He glanced over and, for the first time in quite a long time, he allowed a wide, genuine grin to break open across his face. He turned away for the girl, as his selfish pride wouldn’t allow for him to keep up the smile for long, and it soon receded quietly, until it was just the slight, lopsided grin that reflected his restraint. However, his eyes said everything. “It’s … wonderful,” he breathed, and he didn’t really have much to say after that. His eyes continued to explore. He attempted to absorb all that he could, to burn it into his memories so that he could come back to them at a later date, so that he could experience the sentiments that he was feeling now. After all, this was what Fraint had been waiting for his whole life—to witness the beauty of Lhavit that his grandfather had spoken of all this time. Johanne’s words flew right over his head. A gentle, blue hue radiated from behind glass, adding to his initial intrigue. He turned to face her, realizing his rudeness. “I apologize … I didn’t quite catch what you said there.” Something about Denval, and how she didn’t exactly miss her home. However, another question had been on the tip of his tongue ever since he entered. He asked it now, inquiring: “So … pardon me, but what do you know about this place?” He needed to know. He had absorbed the wholly divine appearance of it to the best of his ability, and now he felt that it was necessary for him to learn about it, and he figured that Johanne had at least a sufficient amount of knowledge bestowed inside the wiry frame. “I’d like to know, if you don’t mind.” He offered a sheepish grin to heighten his chances. OOCThat'll probably be the only time he cracks a grin that wide.

[Johanne]

"The Inarta and their Wind Eagles?" Johanne turned quickly to Fraint, suddenly more animated, a grin tugging at the edge of her pink lips. "Yes, yes, I've read about them! They live in a volcano, and their Eagles speak secrets to them in their minds... Oh my word, you rid atop one? How big are they? How high do they fly?"

Johanne's barrage of questions was surely entirely out of character for the girl, and perhaps the reserved Fraint would be quite taken-aback by the sudden onslaught of questions and excitement, but to meet someone who had not only SEEN the home of the Inarta, but ridden atop one of their Eagles! Johanne, who loved stories of new places, eagerly awaited further description. Suddenly, she seemed more excited than Fraint, the very one who had travelled so far to see a Goddess he knew nothing about. One that had let something like the Day of Discourse happen. But Johanne let the subject slide, focusing suddenly on a man who had seen something so truly amazing.

Entering the Temple, Johanne understood the need for silence, though her fingers itched for a pen and parchment to jot down the details of Fraint's journey on a Wind Eagle. That story forgotten for the moment by Fraint, Johanne took in the awe in his eyes, the lifting of his chin, the way a small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. He took in the candles, the skyglass, the beautifully high domed ceiling: everything. While the place seemed to Johanne to be the center of the gods' indifference, as Zintila had let a city fall into disrepair without intervening, she had to admit that whatever her faults, her temple was stunning.

Waiting for a response from Fraint, she could not have predicted that he would turn and let such an open, beautiful smile grace his face: and she would definitely not have guessed that he would share it with his unqualified guide. She felt her heart skip a beat for a moment, blushing and looking down. The first heartskip she had felt since Dariel. Looking away for a moment, she swallowed, as Fraint looked away too. "Yes, it is," Johanne whispered, nodding. Whatever else it was, it was undeniably beautiful.

"That's okay. I just said..." But Johanne noticed the way his eyes immediately turned back to the temple, back to observing everything about the crystalline building, and she smiled, softly. "Never mind." She expected more silence, and yet, he posed another question, one that made her blush and fumble for an answer. He smiled sheepishly at her, and Johanne could not help but respond. "Well, to be honest... I am not the best guide for you. You seemed so eager, and to have a truly interesting story, so I decided to show you... But I've only ever been in the front room, and I owe no allegiance to Zintila or her assistants. All I know is that this building is made of skyglass, her material, and that the key members of the city reside her. That's all." Johanne shrugged, the truth out, looking down at the floor embarrassed. "I would understand if you wanted to leave me, now..." She would understand, yes, but it did not mean she would not feel slightly bereft if he did. She had so wanted to hear of the Wind Eagles...

OOCMy writing is terrible lately. I am very sick and everything to me seems off. I'm really really sorry.