Between the pages (Vergil)

[Dovinya]

23rd of Summer, 513 AV

Amongst the dusty shelves of the Cribellum, Dovinya searched in silence. For the most part, the titles of the works were largely lost on him, either by alluding to concepts he had no knowledge of or pertaining to subjects he had no interest in at the present. The accumulation of knowledge here was larger than he had expected, and he couldn't help but to start feeling a little frustrated that he couldn't find any mention of cities. To make matters worse, the woman who attended to the shelves was being anything but helpful, giving him a hard time while he was at it. It was making the process so much harder than it should have been, and he was running out of patience. After all, he needed to get back to the temple before too long, and couldn't waste bells simply searching around the Cribellum for information.

Turning the corner, he spotted the woman again, and this time resolved to have his answers, he stormed over. "I am done with being disrespected, and demand to know where the information on cities has been organized. I think I've waited long enough"

"Since it will keep you from bothering me further, books on that subject are usually kept near the entrance, on the left side" To her credit, she still managed to regard him with that same icy calm of hers, not even raising her voice in slightest as he had done in his little outburst.

A little embarrassed at his behavior, he didn't even attempt to respond, turning around instead to head towards where she mentioned. Maybe now he might finally find what he was looking for, and put his time to better use.

[Vergil]

"Off somewhere?"
"The Cribellum." He replied, not bothering to return her drifting gaze with his own as a notebook was tossed casually into the bag. "Sofiya, hand me that will you?" Her brother gestured toward the quill and ink before receiving it with a clean grasp. Curious, the half breed continued.

"My Vergil, I didn't know I influenced you so." Her voice curled lightly, playful, as she peeked above her own readings.
"Hardly. It's for the harvest and you know it." He met her hidden smile with a sideways grin, crimson gaze coloured with a faint warmth. Her own lit with a quiet amusement, but at the sight of Vergil's hardening expression, she paused. Turning, Dra-Sofiya caught the wary gaze of their uncle who had silently entered the modest abode, his steps lightened by the daily work as a guard. As she mentally prepared herself for another spat, Vergil returned to his packing, indifference cooling his features.

"You're still set on engaging in that barbaric ritual?" Ignoring the female's attention, Domvin spoke directly to his nephew, his tone biting. Vergil stood quietly, briefly landing then pulling his gaze away from his sister to pivot his heel as he turned to leave. However fond of their endless debates he was, he had neither time nor energy to entertain the pretentious Esterian. There was nothing Vergil had not heard before: the false sentiments of surrogate sympathy, the sacrilege against Viratas when in reality, the Symenestra knew his uncle only cared about purity of blood. Perhaps more than the unhelpful position taken by those radical few, was the play on emotions. If they had no qualms about their point of view, then bring it to light and allow others that share such an opinion agree, while other disagree. The deceit was roundabout and low, serving only to anger the majority of Symenestra upon the unveiling of the truth. Even now, after years of the same old sermon, the annoyance continued to nip at his brain. Wishing to leave the feeling behind, Vergil exited with a purposed gait, but before he was outside of earshot, Domvin spoke, his tone thick with disgust.

"You're the same as your father, a pair of deluded fools."

A pregnant silence halted time, catching the silent breath of young Dra-Sofiya. Clenched fists hung at his sides, but not a word escaped past those unbudging lips. He'll let the man have the last word, cling to it as he has done in years past. Vergil knew that in time, his uncle would poison himself with hatred as though he were with child, succumbing to the venom of its innocent birth. Hate him he did not, not really, but love and loyalty laid with himself.

With deft movements, he ascended, unmindful while traversing the silk road. The path was sturdy and familiar to his hands, allowing each reach and release to resemble the graceful gestures of a pupil of the Cobweb. In no time, the Symenestra set foot inside of the Cribellum, passing the librarians as he began his search. Though most would think to ask for direction in less familiar territory, for Vergil it was often the last thought. Why depend on another when you could find out yourself? After all, the process more often than not, lent itself to greater knowledge consumed.

Fortunately it did not take long for the Symenestra spotted a keyword that lead him to investigate the shelves by the side of the entrance. As he scanned each row, a hand occasionally reached for unmarked spines to pull a book's cover into view. A chime or two later, and the volumes titled, "Races of Mizahar" and "Cities of Mizahar" were tucked into the crook of his arm. Satisfied with his findings, Vergil headed toward the open area just past the wooden shelves.

[Dovinya]

It didn't take him long to find the section he was searching for, thumbing through various tomes till at last he came across one that mentioned Lhavit in its first few pages. Silently he thanked Viratas for giving him the chance to meet Duvalyon, for he'd not have recognized the name if it wasn't for their discussion and might have missed that this one was about a city. Now that he was assured that this section would hold similar information, he decidedly grabbed a few books at random that where near the text on Lhavit, before retreating with his handful to a fairly remote section of the Cribellum where he'd not likely be bothered in his studies. After all, it would be not long before he was called back to work at the temple and he wanted to make the most of his time while he was here.

He decided to start with the one he'd recognized the name of, Lhavit, one of the closer cities to Kalinor if he recalled correctly from what Duvalyon had said. Thumbing past the first few pages as he skimmed, an entry in red in caught his eyes.

Lhavit: The Star of Kalea

The most beautiful surface city I've seen with my own eyes, it is made up a most miraculous substance that is a sturdy as stone but beautifully clear like crystal. Its distance from Kalinor, as well as its diversity makes it a tempting place to conduct a harvest but the wariness of the our people makes it rather unsuitable in such regards. I had a hard enough time just getting into the city, not even considering the lengths I had to go through to find a place to stay. Most kept me at a distance while watching me cautiously, and those few that did give me attention were ones armed with weapons and questions pertaining to my arrival there.

However, I did find the place to be suitable for a gleaning, if one can get past the nosey guards of course. The people of this place have a rather intense fascination for the scholarly pursuits, and I managed to overhear some conversation about a remarkable library, though I was unable to gain entrance before I left the city in search of a better place to harvest.

Halaven Solanaceae - 425 A.V.

The rest of the accounts followed much of the same thoughts, reflecting idly on how beautiful the city was, as well as making numerous references to other texts where they continued to exact their knowledge of the place's cuisine and other bits of information. Perhaps he'd look into that later, but for the moment, he meant to learn of more cities and see how they might compare to Lhavit. His choice of where to harvest had to be done with great care, lest he for the surface was a dangerous place with little love for he or his kin. Setting the text on Lhavit aside, he picked up the next one.

[Vergil]

Exiting the aisles, Vergil headed toward a corner of the Cribellum, preferring privacy over convenience. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to stumble into his studying with her awkwardly placed conversation topics (asking about the weather when they clearly lived in a cave for one), however endearing his father found her social behaviours. Though today he was in no rush, having set aside time in his schedule to go through the collective information of his kind, he did not care to waste any of it on pleasantries.

Spotting an empty area just ahead, the Symenestra counted himself lucky as he made his way. Unfortunately he would not have the section to himself for a lone figure sat adjacent to his path, close enough to allow the titles to be seen. Slowing in step, Vergil stood in the corner of the other's vision for he was not one to hide. Quickly, he scanned the spines of the other tomes but recognized few names. Curious still, he skimmed the opened page shadowed by the other Symenestra, catching the words "Lhavit", "Kalea" and "Kalinor". Realizing that this and the other books were likely concerning the cities above, Vergil grew interested, partly in the Symenestra but mostly in the books he borrowed.

"Preparing for the harvest?" Deciding to engage in conversation, he spoke with a cordial albeit terse tone, friendly enough with little room for elaboration. Should the Symenestra meet his gaze, he would find an easy strength behind his eyes, a confidence fortified by years of harmful gossip. The Sorrel were not well-liked to say the least - a young legacy of scandals and tainted blood typically aren't - but that did not mean they were any less kind. And though Vergil would like to say that the preconceived perceptions of others did not affect his mind or speech, one wonders if his frank tone of voice was perhaps an unspoken challenge to all those that dared to speak ill of his web. Disgusted by gossip, however useful it was, it would be no surprise if this was true.

[Dovinya]

So consumed in the tome he was perusing through he scarcely noticed the man approach, so when the he spoke, it was with ill concealed annoyance that he first cooly regarded the man before allowing his visage to soften, and his thoughts to flow towards the pleasantries expected of him in such a situation.

"Yes, for sometime now despite the intrusions of others" Dovinya couldn't help but to vent, his tone implying how much he took to being interrupted in his studies. Though Vergil might not know it yet, he alluded to not only to this moment, but other darker events earlier in the season. The betrayal still clouded his mind, and he couldn't help but to lash out from time to time, if only to prevent his emotions from smothering him.

"I take you bring it up for you are preparing as well?" He quickly decided to ask, as he was reconsidering his previous words. It wasn't like to show such lack of control, especially in front of an unfamiliar face, and it left him in an awkward place with this stranger, straddling the line between being accommodating or making a fool of himself. "I've a few books here on just such a thing, if you'd care to help yourself to them, though what I've managed to find isn't as complete as I would prefer"

At that he decided to offer the man the entries on Lhavit that he'd just finished skimming through, holding it out if Virgil would care to take it from him.

"My name is Dovinya by the way"

[Vergil]

Though the stranger was hardly pleased to be interrupted, Vergil was rather indifferent to it all. Well, perhaps he did care to an extent, as he did not want to encourage enmity between their kind, particularly when the knowledge of this harvester-to-be could come in handy. Even so, the sharpened tone of the Symenestra hardly fazed him and if anything, inspired a hint of appreciation. Theirs was a race of elegance, of subtlety, despite the vibrant colours of their beloved silk. To meet another who seemed unafraid of expressing his discontent was refreshing, and was much preferred to the low whispers of cowards. On that note, it would follow that Vergil may be one of the few able to tolerate Dra-Nesyria's company.


Despite this inkling of respect, he could not help but retort. "Staying in a public area tend to allow for such occurrences." A ghost of a smirk grazed his lips, but faded just as quickly. "Yes, else I would not subject myself to this dusty tomb." Agreeing, he pulled his attention away from the open page to set on the Symenestra. Immediately, he recognized the other as Dovinya, the eldest of the Aconite web. Though their web was plentiful, Vergil knew his face as Dalinus had pointed him out once, while informing the uninterested Symenestra of his unfortunate injury. Unamused by the irony of the situation, he sighed inwardly, gazing into the trademark gold with a weary red. In escaping the Esterians, he stumbled upon another, one he willingly engaged for that matter. Of course, Vergil considered the validity of the rumours surrounding the Aconites as he was never one to blindly trust secondhand knowledge, but he questioned their web's constant interactions with the races with the surface. It was important to mask the reality of their plight with cheer and hospitality, but the extended communication could very well lead to embracing of cultures and shunning of their own. Sympathetic to Esterians or not, Vergil's impression was at the very least, soured.


"You would be correct." The Symenestra barely lifted his arm, directing Dovinya's attention to the books tucked there. Upon his offer, Vergil seated himself perpendicular to the other with his small collection resting on the corner. "Probably because I've found the rest. Though the Cribellum is nonetheless, lacking." As he spoke, pale fingers darted in and out of the bag, pulling out quill, ink and notebook. Not much of a visual learner, Vergil relied heavily on the tactile input of writing notes, hence his current set up. Thankful that he did not have to waste breath asking, he accepted the readings, about to divulge in the text before Dovinya made his unnecessary introduction.


"I know. I'm sure most of Kalinor have heard of your injury by now." Vergil looked down at the page, continuing to speak casually. "I'm Vergil Sorrel." The Symenestra presented the name of his web in hopes that whatever misconceptions and disdain Dovinya may have for them will surface sooner rather than later. After all, though there were a few of his family that he disliked, he was unashamed.

[Dovinya]

The man's effective counter had him at a lost for words for a few moments as he appraised the symenestra before him. Dovinya felt confused as if he should be offended of the remark and ashamed of his outburst in the same moment, the conflicting emotions tying up his tongue. He decided to side with shame, for he had decided to speak before speaking.

At least this handled his childishness with ease, for Dovinya needed no more enemies within Kalinor, the ones he had were certainly a handful enough. For that Dovinya was appreciative enough towards this stranger, but ever more increasingly guarded.

"True the fault is mine for expecting curtsey from patrons at the Cribellum" He quipped decidedly, as his studied the young man's features. He certainly held himself to a degree of distinction, or was it dedication? It wasn't his to tell at this moment, but from the man's concise words, he expected the later for this one reminded him so much of another. There was no time to ruminate on that however as the conversation changed its focus.

"True, the best knowledge I find comes first hand from those whom have experienced the harvest themselves. Those whom come back and report to the Cribellum are not not exactly focusing on the manner they went about it after all, but what they learned" He'd learned that much from speaking with Duvalyon back in the temple so long ago. It was about time he started seeking other harvesters out for that matter, for one could never learn to much about ones chosen task, and he had always favored more the learning of things through action instead of through the reading dusty books. That was something for another day though, for the man's new comment begged his immediate attention.

"and few can let me forget it" He remarked cooly, still regarding this ever curious stranger even as reflexively he winced at the mention of his injury. It was something he like to keep purposely far from his thoughts, yet even years later people brought it up, their tone ever implying how little they thought of him. Often times he wondered if they thought that he'd deserved it, or worse, that he'd desired the injury, but in those dark times he managed with prayers to Viratas whom he'd established a true connection with that day. Not that it mattered in the ever pragmatic eyes of his kin, seeing him as a disappointment that he could not further their line. He had other things to contribute though, he knew, and in that he found strength.

The man, this Vergil was ever full of surprises it seemed though, for his name was not unknown to Dovinya, indeed to much of the population of Kalinor. His web had a sordid reputation from what he could remember, though the specifics of which failed him in the present. He was still too irritated at the comment of his injury to bother with thinking to such distant times. In any case, he didn't care all that much of this one's web activities, for what web was not without the cloak of rumors about them, and their ideas.

"It is pleasant to see someone wear such a name with so much commitment. We do not chose our Webs, but no must never turn against family"

[Vergil]

"If they're not too busy making up for lost time." He added, more for himself than Dovinya. "A year of the sunborn and their females lends itself to a longing for the real thing." Dalinus of course would certainly agree, ever obsessed as he was with the female race. After returning from his first harvest, the Symenestra had hugged Sofiya a great deal longer than Vergil thought appropriate. From then on, he had kept a close watch on his cousin, but found little evidence of foul play. In the end, he reasoned that it must have been the lingering scent of the her father which tend to drive the males crazy in certain seasons, much to her brother's chagrin.

Expectedly, Dovinya did not take to mention of his injury well, his wince easily caught by the observant Symenestra. As much as Vergil thought he could understand, he really could not imagine himself in the same situation. To be unable to further their kind was a devastating thought, but to have been robbed of opportunity through an act of selflessness was admirable, albeit a bit foolish in his opinion. He doubted he would have done the same in that situation, unashamed in knowing that ensuring his own survival trumped all other concerns. Nonetheless, this was old news and Vergil found Dovinya's response rather unnecessary. By now, the Symenestra should have moved on.

"To be remembered is better than being forgotten. At least it was not caused by angering the daughter of the ruling couple, as I do not doubt her ability to feminize the most virile of men." He spoke evenly through a smirk, his tone of voice contrasting with the humorous implication of his words. However, the atmosphere dimmed with Dovinya's next comment, less so because of the mention of his web but more in his words. Vergil was considering this Symenestra, reevaluating the Aconite's impression on him thus far. Despite the Esterian related rumours of both their webs, he had not attempted to connect with him through those views. Though there was little opportunity to work this into a conversation, he wouldn't put it past those fanatics to manage such a feat. Though Dovinya implied a distinction between an individual and their web, at the same time, he mentioned a dependency. Just how far would this Symenestra follow his web? Vergil contemplated briefly, deciding instead to give him the benefit of the doubt; a rare thing. Perhaps Dovinya had somehow impressed him enough to warrant such a lenience.

Listening still, though with less attention than before, Vergil began to skim the readings Dovinya had gifted. The information on Lhavit was sparse of course, even after cross-referencing with the more general tome he found. The only new bit of information his book contained was scribbled in black, with some spelling corrections in red.

Though a mandatory registration is required for those that practice practise any forms of magic, Lahvit Lhavit seems to be more accepting than other cities of its use. Perhaps it is due to the influence of the Ethaefal, a beautiful race of fallen people, that gifts its denizens with a more worldly view. In terms of surrogacy, as far as I know, the Ethaefal can not reproduce. Oddly enough, I have only seen certain Ethaefal during the day or night, never both.

The page continued with mentions of Okomo and other miscellaneous information to which Vergil ignored, his hand swift as he jotted down the relevant points.

Cities
Lhavit
- made of crystal-like substance; sturdy
- near Kalinor
- diverse but cautious people -> difficult to enter; potentially dangerous
- scholarly, expansive library
- accepting of magic; wizard registry
- Ethaefal (race): beautiful, can not reproduce(?) -> need more info

A scholarly city of magic, he thought, would certainly offer valuable lessons on the craft. However, with their cautious nature toward the Symenestra, he doubted any would be open to accepting such a pupil. On a separate note, its females may be armed with magic he had never been exposed to, making harvesting a great deal more dangerous in such a city. Adding this to his notes, Vergil pushed the tome toward Dovinya. The Symenestra, though self-interested, did not like owing others.

"Here, a bit of extra information on Lhavit. Let me know if you find anything else of interest." With that, he continued.

EditAdded Vergil's jot notes.

[Dovinya]

"Of course, and who wouldn't allow them to do so!" At that, Dovinya offered a genuine smile, bringing up a hand to cradle his chin at the thought. "They deserve a bit a privacy after spending so long up above with those savages" He was thinking about what he and Duvalyon had discussed in the temple, so many seasons ago, about the surface, and those that lived across it. They certainly lacked any grace, by all that Dovinya had seen and heard.

His injury certainly was a sore subject for him, carried like a burden ever since that faithful day for with it dreams died. Certainly he'd grown in his faith because of it, depending more on it for support at first, but eventually coming to cherish it till he hardly felt held back by his injury. Thats not to mean it didn't still sting when it was brought up, for it had never truly left his mind, visiting his thoughts during those quiet moments when he was just about to fall asleep. It reminded him in how he'd failed his race and family, about how things could have been.

Thankfully however, they were thoughts easily pushed away by a mined armored against such dark intrusions so that he might continue the conversation without excessive emotion tainting his speech. "Indeed, I've heard the whispers" He yet managed through a thin lipped smile, thought it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere by his distracted tone, his thoughts drifting between anything he might have heard of this man and his true purpose for being in the Cribellum this day, educating himself on the surface cities.

To his pleasant surprise, Vergil pressed him to look through once more the tome he'd willingly offered, and curious, Dovinya studied the passage, only to be filled with questions instead of answers. He'd heard little to nothing in matters pertaining to magic besides whispers that the Orphine web practiced it, and as to the race it mentioned, he was at a complete loss. What, after all, made that race unsuitable to reproduce with? It was a problem he'd never figured as really a factor when obtaining a surrogate, and prompted his mind among other avenues of thought. How was he to make sure that his would be surrogate would produce children? Certainly the Cribellum would have something to alleviate his newfound worries, but even still perhaps while on the surface he should keep an eye out for those already with children, for certainly their fertility was as good of a guarantee he was to get out there on the surface.

His curiosity peaked, he broke his concentration on the page before looking up to regard Vergil for a moment. "What of these Ethaefal, do you know anything of them?" He decided to inquire, despite his reservations to continue studying the tome for answers, knowing that asking another could well answer his questions quicker than he could by reading on his own. "Do you think the magic practiced there renders them infertile? I'll admit I know very little about magic, so I can't be certain this is a reasonable assumption"