PM to join In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

[Edreina]

46th Day of Fall, 513 AV
Before the Dawn

The Svefra woke slowly, eyes attempting to block out the reality of time. She stretched out in the bed barely left, body pleasantly sore and marked in a variety of ways. Each movement brought back a memory of the days past, and for once Edreina was not comforted by the memories. Memories... Was that all that she would have at the day's end?

After several moments, she rolled onto her side and finally allowed her eyes to take in her love as they pleased. He was so close then, close enough for her to reach out and touch. And yet, her hands hesitated, coming up to rest beneath her chin instead. There was something palpable in the air surrounding them, a tranquility that would be shattered under the slightest pressure.

He was leaving her today...

He was leaving, and Edreina did not know if he would return to her. The thought of it caused a long stifled sob to rise up in her chest, threatening escape. She had known that this day was coming. The past few days, they had been bliss; the pair had been all but lost to the throes of passion and the gentle caress of his fingertips as they explored the depths of their bond. Never before had Edreina been struck with such... Emotion.

On one hand, she knew that she would be able to release a pent-up breath at the day's end, finally free of the looming shadow that was Ayatah. It was a comforting thought. But, the fact that her freedom from fear of seeing Razkar snatched away would end with just that kept a slim coil of trepidation writhing in her gut. So much could go so wrong for her; in the span of a few bells, her entire world could come crashing down around her.

She had trekked halfway across Mizahar for this man. She had killed for him. She had risked everything she had and so many possibilities.

What would happen if he left?

She could not trek back to the Suvan... Not on foot. Staying in Zeltiva was far from an option; without him, life on land was a fearsome beast she had not the strength to combat. The only option was to find another pod to sail the Outer Ocean with... But even that caused a sick tang to rise up on her tongue. New things were exciting, fun, and always interesting. But, life without her pod, without Razkar, without any familiar element aside from the water itself might be too much at once.

Already, she felt herself spiraling, losing her hold on reality as possibilities claimed the eye of her mind.

He was leaving her.

The permanence was unknown, but that did not change the color of her fear.

But, in that moment, he was still there. Without a sound, Edreina moved across the bed and straddled her lover gently, movements as light as she could manage. Her hands found the terrain of his stomach, tips of each digit taking one last sojourn across its now familiar planes. Her breath came in a tremble as she forced herself to keep from thinking that this may very well be the last time she is able to see him in this light. The slow, rhythmic pace of his breath brought her some form of solace.

No matter what happened, at least he will be happy.

Gods dammit, woman... Don't act to hopeless.

This could be the end... I'm- I'm not ready to lose him!

Fear not what has not yet come to pass. What would Zindr say if she saw you now?

...quit yer mopin' and swab a deck. That's entirely irrelevant.

Is it truly?

Her breath came in a gentle sigh, so quiet it could have belonged to the room itself. Checking to make sure that he was still asleep, as far as she could tell, Edreina worried at her lip with her teeth. He was so peaceful while in the realm of Nysel; the Svefra was able to see a Myrian without the weight of an entire culture on his shoulders. Sometimes it was easy to forget that they were both denying nature simply by loving one another. Svefra were not supposed to be anchored to a single island; Myrians needed a partner of equal prowess.

As Syna began to peek into their window, face half hidden by a thick-gray thundercloud as if she feared to what she would be privy this day, Edreina lean forward, resting her cheek upon her lover's chest. The gentle rise and fall of his chest had become as comforting to her as the waves of the open Suvan.

For chimes she lay like that, fingers tracing idle designs into his already ornate skin. When finally he woke, she would rise without a word and move to dress herself for the day. One could never truly prepare for what was to come, but putting on clothes seemed like a fair place to start.

OOCYou can wake at any time and that will skip down to her reaction to his rousing

[Razkar]

If he stayed in the gray and formless void, they could be together. He knew it was the want of a child, without plan or purpose or even solid logic, but the alternative was more than he thought he could bear. Even in that place where his own thoughts molded the world around him, Razkar could not conceive of what the waking world would bring him.

Confrontation. Resolution. Acceptance of his own choices.

The end.

Razkar shivered though he had no skin to feel the icy chill. Doubts that harried him like worms in his stomach were reborn as garrulous, accusing voices here, and yet, it was still preferable.

Barely even a year passes, and you forsook her for another. Gave your heart, all of it, to a barbarian born without the Light of Myri-

Traitor. Oath Breaker. You shame your clan and ancestors and race and Goddess-

She will be destroyed by this. All your memories of laughter and light will burn like ash the moment she sees you reunited with your first love, and it will be all your-

You raced towards this. Crossed a continent to force this. You cannot back away now, and cannot put it off any longer-

Something tangible reached out through the void. Achingly familiar and soothing, it stroked his pain and quelled it, calmed it... but only for ticks. Because he knew what it was and though he could not see his face-

No. He could. In this place, Razkar's fears had no bar of reality. He saw his features crumple and contort as if in agony, though barely a handful of moments in his short life could have born such pain.

Howling wind assailed him and the balm became poison. Caressing hands that had loved him without reservation became talons that dragged him screaming, sobbing from the void-

-into Syna's soft morning rays, the first clean shades of light that brushed away the night and the stars like the sky's detritus and replaced it with a peaceful, perfect blue. Black eyes blinked like stones under water, wanting so much to grasp onto that feeling.

We could stay here. The money would hold out. Skill with a blade will always get you employment. Instructor, perhaps? She could work at a... a...

Razkar's eyes were forced down and he saw the red mass of curls spread across his chest. She was so warm, so vital... and felt so fragile in that moment. Something that needed to be safeguarded and protected... and now from himself.

His arms enfolded her closer to him and he dipped his chin lower so he wouldn't have to look into her eyes. Not for a little longer, anyway. Just... holding her. Keeping this moment and locking it away-

No more running. No more days spent laughing with hollow smiles, ignoring Tanroa's march and Lhex's inevitable designs. Time to leave.

"I will return."

He whispered the words and the emotion choking them caused her to look up with concern rank in her gaze. The savage and the maiden were frozen in that moment for what seemed like the days they'd spent in those four walls, leaving only to eat and relieve themselves. Most of it was still untouched, dust gathering on surfaces and furniture they'd had no reason to use. The bed was enough.

And that day, it wasn't.

"Whatever happens, I will not just..." He grasped words out of the air and discarded them, like they were insects circling his head, mocking him with their promise and then denying themselves to him. "... abandon you."

Razkar sighed and pressed his forehead to Edreina's. He would not how weakness to her, not now, not when-

"I love you."

Words he rarely spoke out loud; he didn't need to. Every caress of her skin, every smile and stolen glance when they'd been masked by their roles and master and apprentice, every night they'd crashed against each other spoke more than sonnets or poems could have. But now was the time for... truth.

No matter how painful.

"I love you... so much... and I would rather your mind be scoured of my face than have the memory of it hurt you." They spilled faster and more urgent now, like a last testament written by a dying hand. "I have shared more... more than most others. Never outside my kin and people."

The Myrian kissed her soft lips and greedily explored every inch of them, committing them to somewhere where that feeling could be mourned and adored whenever his fingers brushed them in private moments, or the tang of sea salt brought and avalanche of red-haired memories thundering to his eyes.

"I love you... but now I must go."

Taut muscle and skin marred by a life of battle flexed and trembled into life under her, despite all her efforts to anchor him. Razkar rose, and swung out of their bed. Perhaps, they both thought and dared not voice, for the last time...

OOCI think you can continue it to him getting to the door, then I'll start his search

[Edreina]

"I love you."

Three simple words... so simple as they slid from his tongue and danced from his lips. And no matter how loudly her soul screamed its reply, her voice could not do the same. Full lips trembled as words pulled at them, threatening to force them open and allow an escape. He said it rarely; she never said it.

The second time he said it, words carrying enough weight for each syllable to be inscribed upon her soul, upon her very being, she nearly brought herself to say it as well. In a sick sort of way, she wanted him to be marred by her love as she was by his. Let him bear yet another scar, yet another mark of a battle fought.

Thoughts melted away in the fierce frenzy of their lips as they attempted to memorize every nuanced touch, the sharpness of their teeth one one another and the way their tongues seemed to dance with energy as they sparred gently. For a tick, the fear in her heart vanished as she imagined that they could go on like this forever, lost in their own world together.

Those growled Myrian words filled her mind. Her memory of him... if it had to end... it would end there.

She remained in the bed even as the click of the door heralded his leave, fingers trembling in her lap. "Gods..." she gasped even as a sob rose from her throat and broke free, cracking her from within. Her shoulders rose and fell unsteadily as these silent pangs wracked her body, lips pressed tightly together to stifle the sound of her erratic breath. Pale, gold-spotted hands rose, blocking her grief from the sight of the world. She felt like a stone that had for too long been battered by the fierce waves. With each acknowledgement of what may come, she felt a piece of herself fall away and be lost to the abyss.

Finally, her misery dulled into a deep-seated ache that, no matter how she directed her thoughts, would not be dispelled. She sighed, though the breath brought her no real comfort, it was but a motion of air.

She felt empty.

She felt broken.

Gods help me... The Suvan was my life, my only love, my treasure. When I parted from it, left on this cursed quest, my heart did not ache as it does now. Why? Why does a single man hold dominion over my very being when something as vast as the sea could not encapsulate the strength of my soul?

The answer itself was, of course, obvious once she truly thought over it. Her return to the Suvan, to the realm of Laviku, it was as inevitable as the return of the tide itself. Salted water coursed through her veins, was a part of her very being. But Razkar? He was an entity entirely his own. His volition could easily lead him away from her... forever.

She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Of all the sounds that had ripped from their throats in the past few days, she was worried about people hearing her cry? A thought brought on by hysteria traipsed through her mind: She hadn't cried in so long, how did she know she was even doing it right?

"Petch it..." She was not going to spend her day moping about over him. Even through all the pain, the fear, and the longing, the fire in her chest burned. The Svefra had never been one to sit and linger on worry. If she started to move, to remember what it felt like to live, maybe she would face Razkar and his true love with a bit more color to her cheeks, a bit more passion to her spirit.

With a growl, she rose from the bed, dressed quickly, and left the room.

For once, she would not roll over for someone else's happiness. Her heart was tangled in this mess too and she had a duty to defend it. If worst came to worst, she would go out fighting, make Ayatah remember that a worthy woman had managed to snare the heart of a warrior for a breath of time.

[Razkar]

Razkar had heard tales of men lot in the burning sand of Eyktol that had imagined fabulous sights in their delirium. They'd staggered across leagues and leagues of sand that scorched their feet, used up every ounce of energy in them to reach the shimmering visions of trees and maidens and game and pools of deep, cool, clear water.

Only to find nothing but the same sand there. The visions would vanish and there stranded souls would collapse and every screed of hope would drain out of them with their tears...

Because it had all been a lie; that which they had strove and struggled and hoped for. Nothing but empty air and fevered minds.

Razkar remembered that afterwards. While his day was unfolding, however, he didn't remember feeling anything coherent at all.

"What to you mean 'you don't know'?"

H. G. Sanderson, Registrar, (as the polished sign on his equally-polished desk proclaimed him to be) was not a man to scare easily. Razkar was not the first Myrian to stand before him, though the others certainly dressed better, and though the savage did not know it, he'd had questions far more crude asked far less nicely.

He merely cleared his throat, folded his hands together on the desk, and spoke slowly.

"Mister... Razkar, wasn't it?"

"Yes, and no "Mister"."

"Razkar, I understand you have journeyed far to be here, but I cannot tell you what I do not know. Yes, there is an Ayatah of the Scattered Bones clan on our books. She studied for and was awarded a Certificate in Anthropology last Winter..."

Wrinkled fingers flicked nimbly through the parchment before him and he squinted at it as if he needed glasses he had never worn.

"... and she left somewhat abruptly in the Spring, leaving for... the Isle of Darva. A expedition to map the otherwise unexplored island."

"And?"

"And what, sir?"

"Not "sir", either!"

"Do not-" the human rose sharply from his desk and Razkar felt the thunder and trembling of countless educators throughout history, from the venerable scholars of the arcane in Zeltiva to the grizzled combat instructors of Taloba "-take that tone with me, young man!"

It didn't help it was in his native tongue, either.

"I... I'm sorry... Honored Elder..."

"Yes, well..." Sanderson adjusted his lapels and sat back down, his point made and no real ill-will felt, "... that's exhausted most of my Myrian, in point of fact, so I'll stick to Common and say I do not know what else you expect me to tell you. We haven't received any ravens, pigeons or gulls bearing messages, nor ships with word."

The professor's countenance softened when he saw the effect his words had on the Myrian's. A mask of righteous, barbarian frustration was collapsing inch by inch, as if some new and alien emotion was forcing its way through from inside. Gone was the furious glower and the words snapped out through gritted teeth; replacing it was...

Sanderson sighed, and felt a twinge of pity for the lad, primitive and hot-tempered as he was.

He was old and worn enough to know despair when he saw it. He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose, reclining somewhat in the leather-bound chair, finally peering at the Myrian over his fingers.

"Razkar... I am sorry."

"I... I came for nothing." The voice was far away, speaking out but lost inside, speaking as much to his own doubts and cruel voices as to the frowning human opposite him. "All those days... the sacrifices... all for... nothing-"

"Not so."

The sharp, clear, indomitable tone shattered that dome of depression like a hammer on glass. Razkar blinked and found a finger pointed at him, open and honest blue eyes set in wrinkles and lines sharply rebuking him.

"P-Pardon?"

"You came seeking your female, and true, you did not find her... but now you know where she went. We at the University prize knowledge above all, and the proper application of it. You came into my office after waiting bells, wringing your hands mentally, and now you have the information you needed."

Razkar knew there was wisdom in the words but his mind was still spinning to fast to see it. Flashes of Ayatah and Edreina and the anguished confession he'd been steeling himself for were dashed and destroyed, stymied before he'd even confronted one and ruined the other.

You were ready for this. You had the pain of it, the Not Knowing, eat at your for seasons... and now, when you were finally ready to cleanse yourself... she wasn't there...

"Razkar? Son, can you here me?"

"I... yes." Finally he remembered where he was and shook his head from the airless, noiseless bubble he'd stuck it into. He focused his eyes back on the elder and spoke. "Where is this... Isle of Darva?"

Never one to let slip a chance to educate the ignorant, Sanderson's hand jerked up, eyes twinkling with subdued mischief... and he unfolded a map so broad and detailed the Myrian forgot all his petty emotional strife and just stood and stared.

"Goddess..."

"The whole world, Razkar," Sanderson said proudly, as if the lines and legends on it were a priceless work of art (which they were, to a mind like his)... and then stabbed a finger at a formless chunk of land to the bottom right corner of it. "And that, in particular, is the Isle of Darva..."

[Edreina]

Predictably enough, Edreina found herself at the Ocean, standing at the edge of the dock. Her bare feet gripped the ledge, toes misted gently by lilting spray of the salty water below. It had taken her the better part of a bell just to make it here at her slow, thought-consumed pace. And now, she had been in this same place so long time had ceased to mean anything to her. She had sat, stood, lain upon her back, her front, and her side. It was only recently that her boots had come off.

All the while, she had been seeking solace in the waves and the breeze. Before she left, they had been all that she needed. One look in the Suvan's direction, one breath of its wind, and her soul would be at peace. Now, her soul was riled like the storm-churning waters on the horizon. No matter what measures she took, there was no peace to be found.

With a groan, Edreina fell onto the dock, throwing her feet into the water. Through them, she quickly opened up her mind to the goings on of the sea life nearby. Within a chime, she found herself lost to it. A pod of dolphins was playing just past the ships, mothers and fathers and young frolicking gleefully. So often Edreina had thought them to be like the Svefra and, in truth, they were. But... Edreina felt oddly alienated from them in that instant. The Svefra by birth was questioning how her people could possibly move from one mate to the next without a care. Did it not hurt them? What about the other involved? A pain stabbed at Edreina's chest as she remembered that the very same could be going on in that instant.

Barnacles below swept the passing water with their feathery tongues. Their entire life was spent in one place, in one body of water. Did they find any joy in their life that way? As much as she longed to return to her Suvan, the redhead was unable to ignore her insatiable curiosity to see the world around her, to learn its secrets. The object may be in motion, but you're a damned barnacle nonetheless... It was a vicious thought, but a true one nonetheless. Edreina contributed little to their relationship, in her mind. And yet, Razkar had somehow managed to migrate to the center of her Sea, he was the current that dictated her motions and yet, Edreina felt no need to unfurl her sails and attempt to oppose it.

Thunder shook the heavens, as if angry with how Edreina was defying her nature. Looking up, her blue eyes were no longer met with blue skies. Somehow, while she followed the motions of her brethren, the storm had crept back in after circumventing the mountains and dancing across the Ocean. Or, perhaps, this was but a child of the main storm she and Razkar had encountered while traversing the wilds.

It rained down upon her all the same.

As if rising and seeking shelter were a chore, Edreina moved slow, gathering her boots and starting her trudge back towards the room they had rented. Her mind was burning, and no amount of rain would extinguish its biting flames.

The longer she thought, the more her mind tortured itself. She caught herself wondering, not if Razkar had found Ayatah - the possibility of anything else happening had not even bothered to enter her mind - but what they were doing. Were they just catching up? Remembering the good old days before a certain meddling Svefra? Her stomach rolled at the possibility that they were reaffirming their long-fallow relationship. And yet, her mind fixated on that possibility. Was he gentle and kind with her? Was there as much passion? In the pits of her mind, she hoped that she was a better lover than Ayatah. At least that way Razkar would have some reason to come back.

It was pathetic, really. Edreina was so caught up in Razkar that she would let him use her just for the chance at being in his life.

She hated herself for it, but knew that there was no other way for her to live unless she fancied the removal of her heart.

When finally she returned to her room, she was a wet, miserable mess. The rain pelted the room's window now, creating a gentle melody. Despite the fact that it was still early in the day, Edreina found herself to be utterly exhausted. Her frayed emotions had sapped her strength.

Inexplicably, she found herself crying gently, again. Again! Dammit all. Removing her wet outer clothes, Edreina picked a blanket up from off of the floor and rolled into it even as she threw herself onto the bed. This day, it needed to be over already. Her knees came up to her chest, trapping the sobs that threatened to escape again.

Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

[Razkar]

"So, nothing is known of this place?"

"Razkar, it is called "unexplored" for a reason. I have mentioned that before, have I not?"

The Myrian flashed him a frown that bounced off a face that had absorbed countless thousands over his long career, but his heart was hardly in it. Much as the splotch of formless, shapeless, featureless green on the parchment was a mystery to him, it felt better to his mind to be grappling with something real. Tangible, useful, applicable facts were what he needed right now; information and intelligence, as if he was planning a campaign or scouting an enemy.

Yes. A much better mindset.

"When did they set sail?"

"The... first of Spring, if I recall," Anderson answered after a moment looking up at the ceiling, dredging through his extensive but somewhat cluttered memory, "Yes, there was much ceremony to it. Few try to reach Darva anymore."

"Why?"

Hesitation. Not a good sign. Anderson felt like he was on some precipice he could not see but definitely feel; the hand of Lhex seemed to be in that tick, immortal and inscrutable face peering over his shoulder... asking, as always for him to make a choice...

He asked, and what are you if not one who brings enlightenment to those seeking knowledge?

"Well... er... because no-one... comes back."

The Myrian did not move. Nor did the human. The muted, distant sounds of jabbering schoolboys and teachers trying to restore some semblance of order suddenly sounded very loud to Anderson. Razkar didn't seem to be hearing anything: still as stone and just as cold, he merely stared at the human like he had done him a mortal insult, breathing slow but deep...

"... ever?"

"Not... not in recent memory... no-"

"Then why," Razkar's voice jumped from a whisper to a roar of indignation, punctuated by his hand crashing down on the map like he could blot its curse from the world by doing so, "in the name of all the hells and heavens and the dirt 'tween them, did this university let her go?!"

"She-She wanted to!" Anderson managed to stammer out, struggling but succeeding not to quaver. Gods take him if he'd allow his composure to crumble before some blustering barbarian. "She applied and was accepted, based on her scores and abilities! She was one of the finest students of her year and-"

"Oh, I would fucking know!" The Myrian threw his hand up in dismissal and stalked away from the man, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, words bitten out like he was taking chunks from the very air. "Not enough to go to other side of the fucking world, oh no! She has to go to place no-one comes back from!"

Goddess, he wanted to break something, but everywhere his eyes fell was packed with curios, tablets, scrolls, books, rare antiquities that the Honored Elder would not appreciate and so-

-there was a roar and a black blur and a crack that sounded like a log being split, making the Professor jump-

-and a dent in his wall that would not be easy to fix.

"Razkar?!"

Burning black eyes swung to him, teeth bared under them and the full force of Razkar's impotent rage was fixed on the still-stalwart human. Anderson was a booksmith, a seeker of knowledge, he lived in ancient tomes and loved them as much as his departed wife and his grown children, of his own blood and the hundreds he'd tutored over the years... but Mizahar being as it was, he had not lived so long without facing death. This Myrian was... a particularly pure example of those who dealt Dira's "favor", but...

"Remember yourself." The words were growled, perfectly accented and his face fierce, though his mind raced to remember every scrap of that course he'd taken before Razkar was even born. "Not this place for anger. Not for violence. Use mind."

The words seemed to wash over the Myrian with no effect... but no more violence did he deal. Instead he just stared, letting the rage drift away from him in Tanroa's endless balm, every tick and passing chime letting it fade, diminish... until his reason returned... and with it, his shame.

"Elder..." The young male hung his head and to Anderson's astonishment, got down on one knee. "I have disgraced myself. Forgive a foolish male for his foolishness..."

Well... that, he was not expecting. A weapon-covered Myrian, even more festooned with scar tissue and tattoos, kneeling before him as if searing fealty... and all he could do was shuffle a little in his loafer and clear his throat.

"Um... I accept." Then the pragmatic edge to him shone through with unseemly abruptness. "But you're paying for that!"

Razkar looked over his shoulder at the dent in the wall and winced. He rifled in his purse for a few moments and handed over what he assumed would be enough. By the look on the Professor's face, he wasn't wrong.

"This is enough?"

"Oh... yes. Very handsome, Razkar."

"I think I have heard all I have to, Professor." Razkar seemed to mangle the world as only one alien to Common could, then gave another short bow. "May I come back, before I leave, if I must?"

"Yes, of course, but what do you intend to do?"

More silence and this time it was not dread or weary patience that filled Anderson's mind. One look at the Myrian's frowning, troubled face, and he felt pity for the poor fellow. He obviously wanted to find this Ayatah, obviously someone dear to him, and he'd come so far only to find her vanished again. He could only guess at what hardships and expenses he'd endured to get to Zeltiva... what more could he give?

Razkar had much different thoughts... but they were his own, and the words that rampaged around his mind were not for the speaking here.

"... I do not know. Not yet. Good day to you, Honored Elder."

The Myrian stalked from the room and out from under the stone arches and into the driving rain and lessened not a jot in his tread. He was almost trying to outrun his own thoughts, the whispers and anguish and anger stalling every plan and thought he had for this day.

You were too late. You dallied too long with the barbarian female and now-

"No!"

A passing sailor nearly jumped out his boots as the savage bark cracked out at him like the snap of a shark's jaws. He steered himself wide of the Myrian and as soon as he passed, hastened his step. Mary would certainly like to hear about this...

Edreina will have to be told. She must know what... options, she has. The Myrian had to breath deep, as if his heart was being squeezed, cobbles swaying under his feet as they wound their way north. She has come so far with you. But further? Dragging out this pain for another season? Two? A year? It is cruelty. It is too much to ask...

Razkar steadied himself under the eaves of their lodgings. In the shadows, hidden from the rain but not from sight, he looked like another drunk or depressive, the likes of which festered in the post-Coup Zeltiva, lost and faithless and without purpose anymore.

He sighed. He did not want it to be this hard... but reality did not care for his wants. The gods willed as they did, and this was the path before him. Battle was so much more... simple. You fought and you strove and by your skill and courage, the result was decided. But bearing himself so openly to one he loved, and having her pain caused by him...

It is much to ask... but you will still ask.

OOC-30GM

[Edreina]

More than nearly anything, Edreina hated crying. When finally she woke again, her head felt heavy and her nose thick. It took several deep inhalations to truly draw a breath, for her nose to clear. Slowly, she sat up, bringing her knees to her chest and shaking her hair. Her chest, so normally filled with flame and light, was empty. Her passion had been shed with her tears.

In that moment, she was a woman trapped in purgatory.

Her heart lacked the energy to thunder, her mind the will to be nervous. Whatever would happen, it was out of her hands. Her fate had its own deity, and he stalked the earth somewhere nearby, clad in skin like dusk and painted by blades and ink. His motions, towards good or towards ill, were out of her hands. And yet, each step marked her destiny.

As much as she attempted to build a wall around her heart, each stone was kicked away from within. Her heart did not want to be shielded from the pain that was to come. It was an experience, no matter the outcome. And no matter the pain in that instant, every experience contributed to the growth of an individual. "Without him..." she gasped to herself, feeling a sob rise up and choke away her words. They were pointless, petty words, but they bit at her tongue like fire and begged to be released. "Without him I have no wish to grow... Without him I wish only to return to the Anchorage and to what I know... I have no will to explore this wide, harsh world without his strength to embolden me..." The confession tore through her like a knife.

There was a reason she had never ventured farther than the port of a city, why she had never stayed away from her pod for more than a fraction of a season. In truth, she was terrified. This world was so far removed from the one she knew. Everything was different, right down to the people.

The world that did not touch the waters of the Suvan scared Edreina more than deeply than her curiosity could overcome. They did not walk like her, talk like her, or even think like her; creatures skulked about on legs with flashing claws instead of traipsing through the water with powerful fins; a house did not rock as steadily and as comfortingly as a boat did; cities were cramped and smelled of human life instead of pure sea air.

Without Razkar, she realized, it would drive her mad.

He was the reason among the illogical, an anchor upon the uncertain sea of dirt whose jarring changes always managed to stun the Svefra. Since meeting him, she had been put in more danger than ever before in her life, yes. But, she had seem more in each cycle of Syna than she had in her entire life before meeting him. Everything shifting and ephemeral about the life of a Svefra was shoved into focus and held in place by a single entity.

IT was illogical.

But, to her heart and ever so slowly her mind, it felt right.

What would she do if she lost him? A ship without an anchor could lose itself to the tides and the whims of the wind. The wind... How often had she compared herself to the fickle wind and he to the streadfast sea? It was why he had become such an integral part in her life, she reasoned. Just as she relied upon the ebb and flow of the tide, she relied upon the beat of Razkar's heart to let her know that everything was alright, that she would be ok...

That she was not alone.

Slowly, her cavernous chest began to flood with emotion so thick that her voice was swallowed and her eyes threatened to expel the excess.

I have to tell him... She thought, rising so that she stood upon the bed.

No...

I have to show him...

Wherever he was in that city, she would find him and prove that as much as she needed him, he needed her as well. She was a balm, a breath of fresh air in a life choked by the miasma of war. He had said so, right? It must be true. So long she had been fighting fate until mentally she was worn out and now... Now she gave into its pull, hoping that she would find herself upon a safe shore and not trapped in the open ocean.

With teeth on edge and a mane of fire, the Svefra plunged forward, whipping the door open and-

-finding herself crushed against the form of her Fate for an instant before vertigo caught hold and she stumbled backwards.

[Razkar]

"Er... are you going to open that or what?"

Razkar hear the voice... eventually. It was like a prickling on his ears, a bug or a draft, something insistent, annoying and quite determined to grab his attention, one way or another. But there was no glare nor intimidation when Razkar turned to see the scrawny, scruffy human peering at him with that cheerful curiosity many in Zeltiva seemed to have.

He'd had a long day, and he had not the energy to despise anyone at that moment... at least, not anyone else.

"Oh." His gaze flickered back to the door like it was some conundrum he'd yet to fathom. "Yes. I will. Of course."

There was a contemplative "hmm" from his side as the human took stock of this strange sight. A Myrian pausing, uncertain and almost lost, before the door of the nice Svefra lady across the way... well, it did provoke some concern. You know savages, after all. But Vinson didn't see any of that screaming, frothing fury he'd always associated with the Myrians.

He saw a young man with a lot weighing on his mind.

"Ah. This is... about the girl, eh?"

Razkar turned a hair faster and took in this human who presumed to know anything about the ocean of turmoil his soul was currently adrift on. Then he got another surprise when the male just clasped his hands behind his back and let his eyebrows shoot up, knowing look on his face.

"Well, it is, isn't it?"

"... yes."

"Something big you want to tell her, yes?"

A slow, grudging nod, and with that simple motion Razkar felt the stone walls of his mistrust begin to collapse. Any advice, any mind or voice other than the gnawing thoughts vomited up by his own insecurities was preferable in that moment. He sighed again and shook his head.

"I do not have the words."

"Well, you seem to be doing pretty good when you talk to me," Vinson said, taking a step forward, "What's the difference?"

"You are not her!"

"But the words will be the same, won't they?"

"That... That's not what I mean."

Vinson sighed and patted his pockets for his chief pleasure in life: a battered cork pipe, faithfully packed with some Taldera Tush. A flicked his fingers and Razkar inhaled sharply as a few sparks leaped off their tips and ignited the little bowl. The human looked up and chuckled, smoke seeping from his smile.

"Oh, don't mind that. Just a little something I learned in my youth. Hardly a champion of Ivak, mind you, but it's useful for the little things." He took another mouthful and gave a modest wink. "Imagine how much I save on matches."

"Yes..." Razkar licked his lips, seeing this human as more than just another barbarian... or if not, perhaps a barbarian with something to offer. "But what I must say, it will... it will cause... problems."

"Life's full of 'em, lad," Vinson said, voice warmly to his role of adviser and dispenser of wisdom. Gods knew the lads at work hardly saw him as that. "If they can't be solved by ignoring 'em, well, what other choice do you have? Best to hit 'em head on."

"But problem is... complicated."

"How?" Vinson just stared for a moment and then let his head fall back a touch, mouth opening slowly with dawning comprehension. "Ah... more than one girl to consider, correct?"

A muted nod was all Razkar could supply by way of reply. Goddess, how wretched he must appear, how useless and... shameful. Reduced to asking some random human for advice, in a cheap boarding house in the bad-end of Zeltiva, and grasping to his words like they came from Myri's lips. That crushing weight started to settle on him again, gently but mercilessly pushing down, forcing-

"Well, which one do you love?"

-stalled as he looked up into that open, honest face.

"What?"

"The two girls. Which one do you love?" Razkar was about to stammer something before the human held up a finger, smoke forking around it as he exhaled again, eyes frowning a touch as he edited his own phrasing. "Ah, lemme put it another way. If you love them both, that is one thing, but... which one are you in love with?"

"What is the difference?!"

"Quite a deal, my lad. A man can love many people. Family, friends, comrades, the gods, even strangers. He can even have that love of romance for more than one woman..." He frowned and grimaced distastefully, but felt the full spectrum of analysis needed to be vented. "... or a man, too. Or two men. Or maybe a woman and a man at the same time, which is-"

"I get the point!"

"Yes, well, he can love more than one... but the truth is, the heart is too jealous and fierce a thing to evenly split its attentions so neatly." The man's eyes glazed over a touch and he felt the last of the Tush start to fizzle away. "Life is choices, isn't it? Sometimes they're hard ones..."

"Other girl... may be in trouble."

"And you want to help her?"

"Yes."

"And you're worried that, what, your lady might not like that?"

"She came far for me," Razkar said, surprised at the fierce pride shining through his words, and at how easily they flowed them they painted not himself, but his lover, "Crossed half the world for me to find someone that she thought I might leave her for. Survived Yukmen and Dhani witches and bandits to stay by my side."

Vinson stayed quiet but that smile was soon back on his face, lit by the dying ember of his pipe.

"... then you know she's in love with you, Myrian. And the way you speak of her now... what does that tell you?"

Razkar thought on that, carefully crossing every T and dotting every i but still he could not come to a consensus. All of Edreina's sacrifices, every one, was marred by Ayatah's face, her smile, he bookish enthusiasms and her fighting with him against that damned tiger, years ago and far away. He almost hated the sight of it, but his honor pulled him back to that and the promise he made her, the vow he'd spoken and then broken.

The weight returned. Rank and choked with failure and shame, as if all his ancestors muttered and shook their heads above it...

"I do not want to hurt her. I want her to be happy."

"Admirable, lad. But what do you want? Where does your heart lie? It can only be with one. Believe me, trying to make it with two women if harder... well, in the longer-term. In the short-term, well, there's this place just a few streets over, very liberal ladies flock there, you should-"

"No, that's... no, but thank you!" Razkar's hands flung up before him as if fending off some invisible enemy. Goddess, that was the last thing he needed: lust-strewn thoughts throwing his mind even more off track! "I-I get your ideas, thank you!"

Vinson shrugged. More for him, after all. He merely watched as the Myrian marshalled his thoughts, tried to slog through them and find some kernel of wisdom... and failed again. He sighed and stepped forward again, pocketing his pipe with one hand, and laying the other on the male's shoulder.

A scar- and ink-marked face looked up at him, flesh fearsome but visage... miserable. Lost. Wearied of so many problem without easy answers.

Wait. Easy answers.

"... there is no easy way to solve this, is there?"

Vinson smiled and shrugged. "There rarely is, for the big problems in life, lad. Just pain and irritation and patience and the courage to speak the words." He nodded at the plain door behind Razkar. "But you have to start somewhere."

"Yes... Yes, I think you are right. Thank you, Honored Elder."

"Oi, less of the 'Elder'!" Vinson huffed and tried to look younger without actually moving (which is hard to master, believe me). "I've only seen my fortieth Summer!"

"Oh... well, that is... certainly not old."

"Young scamp," Visnon muttered, but his grimace had more humor in it than he'd admit. "Get in there. No more staring at door all night, or someone'll call the bloody Guard, and gods knows what'll happen if a troop of them come down here."

"Yes." Razkar said, inhaling sharply and feel more of his confidence return as he kept it in his chest. The path was clear: all he had to do was walk it. And it started by opening the door. "I think you are-"

A creak and a flash of wood, followed by a flash of blazing hair hurtling out of the portal as if it were a prison-

-then Vinson winced as the lithe, pale female and the muscled male collapsed in a yelping tangle of limbs on the floorboards.

"Ah. Not the best of timing, but... it all has to star somewhere." Two befuddled pairs of eyes looked at him curiously as he blithely stepped over their intertwined legs and gave them a jaunty wave. "Well... farewell and good luck, lad! Remember what we talked about!"

"Yes, I will!" Razkar managed to get that out before a pair of blue eyes like icy daggers pinned him back to reality. "Ah... perhaps we had best get into our room? And off the floor?"

[Edreina]

And what exactly did they talk about? Wary curiosity ruled out her joy at seeing Razkar back and - best of all - alone. Ayatah was not at his side, which had initially caused her frail heart to swell nearly to the point of bursting. But, as her lover and a stranger shared cryptic words, an edge crept back into her eyes. Without a word, she pushed at his shoulders and extricated herself from the tangle.

The redhead was a caged animal in thought and in motion as she first stood beside the bed before, guided by a restless adrenaline surging through her veins, she started to stalk from one wall to another. Motion and rhythm gave her some measure of peace. He was back, but there was none of the pain she had expected to see in his mien, nor was there the guarded look of a man about to break a woman's heart. Instead there was a lack of fulfillment in his features. She hesitated a half-step, blue eyes roaming his face as she sought a name to his expression. No, he had not found her, that much was certain. But there was a certain tinge of hope in his eyes and an element of forethought on his closely held tongue.

Finally, she stilled, leaning against the far wall as Razkar sat or stood where he pleased. Her lip was caught between her teeth, stopping the flow of words that would have come so easily before her days among mercenaries. The experience had hardened her to some degree, had killed an iota of her naivety as she learned the consequences of speaking before words had fully been formed. It was as lethal as sailing on a ship not yet complete. Her heart shuddered in her chest, longing for the comfort of his kiss or his embrace. Despite her emotions, she needed her wits about her for whatever was to come. There was no wall of stone around her heart, but that did not mean that it had not donned its metallic armaments. If Razkar made any move towards her, she wold deftly evade him until he got the point, as if the ice in her blue eyes would not be enough.

To truly understand him, she needed to see his stance, his hands, for they conveyed more than the spoken word. Each shift of his weight spoke of a new breed of nervousness in the young male's system, throwing him off balance. When silence still dominated their room, Edreina finally raised her shaky voice. "Speak your part," she commanded, chin raising slightly. Perhaps, in her, Razkar would see the species of steel that marked females of his own kind. In all actuality, it was a steel woven in to the bones of females the world over. "Speak your part and I will listen the way through," she shifted to Fratavan, emotion coloring her voice, "Let no lie obscure your intentions." He would not understand the majority of it, but the warning tone was as universal as the air assumed by the Svefra.

[Razkar]

They shuffled into the room together in separate worlds; an ocean of unspoken thoughts and latent fears between them. But barely had the door clicked shut and Edreina was pacing, caged and hating it like a tiger from Falyndar... or a tempest of her Great Father, confined to the middle of the sea with no ships to torment or land to ravage.

The Myrian was recovered, if one can use the word, curious balm from the human doing their work... but he also knew females. Knew them better than the barbarians, certainly. In their lands, women were stock, distractions or a necessity for certain chores and breeding. Rarely did he see the males of Syliras or Riverfall or the Wildlands treat their females with true respect and reverence...

Except perhaps the Sea People; which was why he was so uncertain around her May as well she might have got down on all fours and growled at him, but then she was up and leaning against a wall, arms crossed and staring at him with eyes like tiny burning suns, pinning him to their bed as he sat on it.

"Speak your part."

"Reina, I-"

Razkar half-rose and he'd barely got up to a crouch before her feet slid apart and one arm shot up, ready to evade or parry as quicky and smoothly as if they were in a sparring arena.

She's getting better, Razkar thought automatically. He was her teacher, after all, even in this turgid and testing time.

"Speak your part and I will listen the way through. Let no lie obscure your intentions."

Razkar swallowed, not understanding anything but "I", "listen" and "no". Maybe "your" as well. Fratava was still largely alien to him and it wasn't exactly like they had regular lessons... but he'd know a woman warning him not to 'skanna-shyke her in any petching language. He settled back on the bed... straightened his back... and-

"The courage to speak the words..."

The words came in his calm, slow and exact Common; more exact than natural-born speakers, perhaps, because he appreciated it as only one who'd learned it so late could have. By the sputtering candle holding mute witness by the window, casting shadows that flickered and sparred with each other from the Sea Maiden and the Tiger Warrior, he told her of his day.

Meeting with an Honored Elder, discovering his love... his first love... had vanished into the ether, traveling to an island reputed to be cursed and lost to the living world. He left out the part about ruining his wall; though he had noticed her quizzical frown at his bruised knuckles.

That did not take long. Perhaps a fraction longer than it took you to read this far down. But they were only the prelude; the background, as important as they were to their paths. The real challenge was the ones he had to conjure next, and for that, he had to look up... up... Goddess, even meeting her nervous gaze was troubling-

Because behind her bluster and anger, her frustration at having to stand beside him, loving and loyal, while he searched for one she feared would take her from him-

Yes. Fear. That was what he saw. A secret sorrow not so secret anymore.

And she has followed you. Across half the world and through a myriad of troubles, just as you said so proudly to that human. What does that tell you?

Razkar stood, but made no movement to her. The steel in her own gaze was mirrored in the cold, stony purpose in his own. He didn't raise his voice nor snarl, but every word felt like it was being etched in marble, eternal and unquestionable.

"I must go to this... Darva. This Isle of Lost Souls, as the Honored Elder called it once. I must know if Ayatah is alive, or the djed and mists of that place swallowed her, t... too."

His voice broke at that final word, and he blinked for longer than he needed to. By the faint and single candle his briefly bowing face was a mask of misery, admitting for the first time the possibility that for all his searching, it might be for naught.

That a pile of bones could be his journey's end, not a living and vital female... or, even worse, perhaps no trace of her fate at all.

But he rallied, voice swelling with his own breast as he inhaled loudly, seeming to suck down the pain and bring his gaze tilting upward again, meeting hers... holding it...

"And if I find her alive..."

This was it. The moment they had feared for so long, both of them, for very different reasons but to compare the depth of grief and pain was like comparing the griefs of a mother and a father over a lost child. Purely academic. Razkar knew a choice was to be made, and Lhex's shadow was over him, perhaps hidden in the darkness cast about them by the candle.

You know. You have known for too long and not admitted it to yourself, even if you did to her.

This is hard. It will be harder for her. But the right thing usually is.

"... I will tell her I came to find her as one who loves her... but is no longer... in love with her. I will tell her I wished to know she is safe and mayhap take her back to our jungle."

Razkar took a step and his eyes pleaded and scraped and groveled though his body would never do such a thing.

"I will tell her this because I belong to another. To Edreina Whitewave of the Sea People, barbarian born but no less a strong and wise female than she."

He paused. He waited for the world to flood back into the vaccuum between them. His shoulders, broad and strong with the weight of a hundred generations of warriors, sagged as though he had aged so much... but it was in relief, not weariness. A great burden had been lifted, or so it seemed, and he peered into those moist blue eyes with his black orbs like one reborn.