Visitations (Kechaiya)

[Deltan Colari]

69th of Fall, 514 A.V.; 20th Bell Deltan made his way discreetly out of Sunberth, keeping to the shadows and making certain his makeshift club was in plain sight. It was a short plank of wood broken in half with a nail sticking jaggedly out. Deltan had picked it up a few days ago, and held onto it until he could get a real weapon. It drew attention, but it was sufficiently nasty-looking to dissuade anyone who might want to rob a young man who was obviously not well-to-do. And if it didn't, he could always use hypnotism to discourage them further. If all else failed, a properly landed swing with his club could ensure that whoever caused him trouble wouldn't get up again. Or, at least, that they'd have a nice nail embedded in one of their bones. He made his way past graves, some marked stone and others merely wooden crosses, though all looked decidedly creepy in the dusk that preceded night. He would have to return to the Sunset Quarters at night, but that was unavoidable. Deltan needed a place to practice his magic without fear of being seen. From what he'd heard, the Dust Bed was the best place. Slightly haunted, perhaps, but Deltan doubted any ghosts would bother him if he showed proper respect for the dead. No sitting on gravestones or the like, naturally. Deltan had never seen a ghost, and had no plans to if it could be avoided. It took him about twenty chimes of wandering before he found a suitably open place where many of the gravestones had been broken, or heavily worn away. Perfect. Deltan had no sword, but that didn't mean he couldn't practice his Flux. He just...had to improvise. The young man settled on the cool ground, facing east away from the setting sun. Calm... Focus... It was a sort of warmup that Deltan had developed as he learned the Flux; he'd meditate first, focusing on the pathways in his body. Every muscle had one, no matter how small. The larger muscles had larger pathways, and the smaller ones had smaller paths for the Djed to flow. It wasn't a head knowledge; he simply felt the muscles and their potential. The more familiar be became with his magic and his own body, the smaller the paths he could see. Those in his fingers were invisible as of yet, though he knew they were there. His heart was felt as a vague 'ball' of Djed, one that he never, ever touched. His instructor had been very clear about that; altering one's heart before utterly mastering the art of Flux meant almost certain death. Truth be told, Deltan doubted he could affect his heart. He had a hard enough time with those muscles he could actively control. Deltan could sense most of the larger paths, and practiced flowing Djed to them, causing them to swell slightly while all the others began to shrivel. First to the muscles of the arms, one after the other, then through his chest and to the other arm. Neck muscles. Abdominal muscles. Calf, hamstring, shin. Each had muscles that tensed one at a time, before relaxing as the swollen Djed moved on. It was a halting process, but it grew smoother day by day and week by week. The young man's red hair shone in the sunset, and his brow was furrowed with effort. Despite the cool air, sweat beaded on his forehead and he occasionally tensed when he allowed the Djed to stay in one place for too long. Too much potential made it hard to resist doing something with it. The young man's weapon was in his lap, and his worn boots were tucked beneath him as he sat cross-legged. After perhaps fifteen minutes of this, deep blue eyes snapped open and Deltan stood, grasping that club in one hand. A soft humming sound, formerly simply in Deltan's head, began escaping him as he moved through familiar forms, treating his club like a sword. It would do him no good in a fight, but it was the muscle memory that mattered. If he didn't have to think about the movements, then he could focus on Flux. Energy moved once, and he brought the club down in a powerful sideways swing that would have sent the club flying had he not spun on his heels, performing a slice that would, with a sword, hamstring another invisible opponent and in the process slow down Deltan's weapon. As it was, he simply was able to reduce the power in the swing gradually through the spin, performing an unenhanced decapitating maneuver before bringing the club to a halt in a guard stance. Djed flowed once more, this time in one of his legs. The man leaped backward unnaturally far, and...stumbled backward over a tombstone, nearly losing his footing. His club went flying to the side, and he swore loudly as a replacement for the former droning hum. Then, abruptly realizing what he had tripped over, Deltan scrambled to retrieve his club, limping from the poor landing. Lucky that he'd not hit the stone full on and snapped it off...And likely his leg, as well. Foolish of him, to do that. That was the Flux thinking, not him. He was not invincible, and he had to remember that. The young man looked around abruptly, trying to make certain no one had been offended by his accidental disrespect of a grave. Pressing fingers of one hand to his lips, he placed them atop the grave he'd tripped over, murmering, "My apologies." Deltan had no idea whether it mattered, but he was better off safe than sorry.

[Kechaiya]

Kechaiya was trying to stick to the walls of buildings as she moved through the alleyways of Sunberth under Leth's light. The last several days she'd been feeling the urge to visit an old acquaintance, really the oldest of those since she'd arrived in Sunberth. She was on her way to visit Calyn's grave, a poor excuses for a bouquet in hand that she'd picked the day before, an amalgamation of goldenrod, toad lilies, and Sunberthian aster. These were among the only flowers still in bloom this late into the season. She found herself remembering how they had met.

It was late that night, heat was sweltering at the height of summer as Kechaiya listened to the noises within the ship. It seemed nearly all of the crew had departed, as usual, to go drink within the city. She wasn't sure which city they were in, but Kechaiya finally felt that it was time to stop this ridiculous running away from the slavers that weren't chasing her. Hopping from ship to ship, port to port, enough was enough. She sneaked out of the crate that served as her impromptu home on this trip, and walked as silently as she could manage through the ships hold and made it topside.

There was no look out watching the ship, not needed apparently, or no one cared. She crept down the gangplank and onto the docks, ducking down behind some crates. She still had no idea what city this was, or where she was going, and she had nothing but the clothes on her back. Sneaking further, finally reaching the town proper, the sixteen year old Kechaiya felt home-free.

"Oy, ya just sneak off dat boat lass? You's a stowaway?"

She turned, and he startled at her black eyes, "Wha' in Ivak's bloody bunghole is you? Some sorta munster? I could probly carve dem fancy eyes out and sell em. Unless you's make it worth mah while."

He was taller than her, lean, muscular, and uglier than sin. She turned to run, when he grabbed her arm in an iron grip. "Bitch, you's gonna treat me like a real man. You's do good, an' I won't tell da cap'n I saw ya sneakin' off his boat."

Kechaiya was already crying at this point, she didn't know most of the words he was saying, struggling against his hold. He made his point without words after he snaked his hand into her blouse and gripped her breast painfully. Now she fought hard, trying to hit him, but her fists bounced usefully of his form, her screams a lot loud. "Bitch you's best quiet down, or I's gonna fill dat mouth and shut you's up."

"Let the girl go Delkin."

Kechaiya looked up at the new voice, seeing an older woman, she heard the man speak, "You's ain't got no bidness here Calyn."

He crushed her breast once more, eliciting a scream from the girl, "You're making it my business. She looks like the kind of girl that would be a good customer of mine. Unlike that shykehead brother of yours and his drug addled whore. Perhaps I should just send them back to you. He could go back to beatin' your sorry ass like your deadbeat dad did."

He spit on the ground between them, then shoved Kechaiya away from him, her crumpling to the ground in tears, "Petch you bitch. She's just lucky those eyes are petchin creepy, can't get my mast up lookin at them."

Calyn laughed heartily, "And I suppose Brega's girls have flaws that keep the wind from raising your sails too? Or perhaps your little dinghy just doesn't row no more."

He growled and stormed up, Calyn walking over to Kech, "Get up girl, Sunberth is no town for tears. Have you eaten?"

She shook her head, "Alright, you can stay with me for tonight, and we'll figure out your situation after a good night's rest, okay?"

She took Kechaiya gently by the arm, and began steering her toward the Sunset Quarter that was her territory. "So young Chaktawe, I may know why your eyes are black like a Lethless night, but no one else in this shykehole will. So if anyone asks, lie. Lies will save your life here. People are more scared about what they don't know than what they do. Do you understand me?" Kechaiya nodded, having gotten the gist of it. "What's your name girl? I am Calyn, and you are under my protection now."

"I... I Kechaiya."

Calyn smiling, "Welcome to Sunberth Kechaiya. Do you like fish?"

Nodding, the pair walked into the night, and as they say, the rest is history.

Back in the present however, Kechaiya was just now arriving at the beginning of the Dust Beds. She'd not been here since Calyn had died, and that was in the daytime. She was fairly certain it was far to the west, so she made her way around the graves, trying to find anything that looked familiar. As she went searching, there was a loud clatter of wood on stone. Peering over the graves, she saw a man talking to one of the graves. Probably a visitor like herself. She was simply going to ignore it when she stumbled over a large hunk of wood. Remembering the sound moments before, she bent down and picked it, "This you wood?"

[Deltan Colari]

"This you wood?" The heavily accented voice gave Deltan a fright. Understandably, in his current mindset. Ghost! Was Deltan's first response, though the word stuck in his throat and was replaced with a sort of yelp as he whirled to face whatever spirit he'd displeased. Did hypnotism work on ghosts? He was about to find out, it seemed. Much to Deltan's relief, the intruder was not an unhappy spirit. Instead, it was a dark-eyed woman who appeared maybe a few years older than he was. The young man's blue eyes were wide with fright, though he regained his composure with some effort. After a moment, he nodded and reached for his stick, wary but not overly so. If she'd wanted to rob him, she would have surely struck him with that stick by now. "Yes, it is," Deltan said, studying the woman's face carefully. With some surprise, he noticed that her eyes were not only dark, but black. Deltan had never heard of such a thing, and it struck him as...worrisome, in the darkness of night in a creepy graveyard. Knowing he'd sound mad, he asked the obvious question with a hint of trepidation. "Are...you a ghost?" The idea was ridiculous, considering she seemed fairly real. Clothing, perfectly substantial appearance, and the distinct lack of floating made it unlikely. It was irrational, but he really couldn't disbelieve it until she denied it herself. The eyes were too unsettling. If she let him have his makeshift weapon, he'd take a couple steps back, club raised just enough to make it readily accessible. Deltan wasn't really brandishing the thing, but...keeping it at the ready. What good a club would do if she were a ghost, he had no idea.

[Kechaiya]

She handed him the wood with no hesitancy, letting him take it from her grasp. And just like every other person who hadn't met one of her kind, she saw him staring at her eyes. She was used to it by now. But what he said was a first, and it elicited a very distinctive giggle-snort from her mouth. In all her years, she'd never once been confused for a ghost. "No, I no ghost. Ghost no carry flowers." She held the impromptu bouquet up and shook it a bit for emphasis.

Then she the air around her get cold, and she used her spare arm to pull her cloak get tighter. "I visit old friend. You do too?" It was the only sensible reason anyone would be in the Dust Beds. Kech now noticed that he was holding the wood a little defensively, ready to strike if she provoked him. Deciding he was a lot more on edge and distrusting than she'd prefer to have to deal with, she raised her hands in peace, and made to walk far out and around him, looking to head westward and find Calyn's grave.

She gripped her cloak tighter after moving past, now her breath coming out in little clouds. Her head snapped to the right, swearing she'd heard a voice in the distance. I remember that ridiculous laugh. It sounded so familiar, but she couldn't place it. She looked over her shoulder back at the wood wielding man, wondering if it was something he was doing. "You say something?"

[Deltan Colari]

The black-eyed woman let out a little giggle at his question, the sound seeming mixed with a snort of some kind. Unusual, though not very strange compared to her eyes. Deltan took his makeshift weapon cautiously, glad she'd not thought to use it on him. That would have been ironic, indeed. In broken Common, the woman explained her purpose here, raising a handful of flowers as proof of her words. The accent was...odd. One he'd never heard before. Where was she from? Well, for the moment it didn't matter much. When asked his own purpose, the young man froze; what could he say? He was, by any logical assessment, disturbing the dead. So, like anyone caught doing something improper, he lied. "Yes," he said, plastering on a smile and patting (gently) the grave he'd just tripped over. "I was." Worried about ghosts or not, Deltan had no intention of gaining a reputation as an odd man. Even in Syliras, odd people were suspected wizards more often than unremarkable people. How much more likely would that be here, where such thinking got people killed? He didn't want to think about it. By then, Kechaiya was already walking away after taking a look at how he was holding his weapon. What did she expect? She was a strange, black-eyed woman wandering alone in the Dust Bed in the middle of the night. Who came to visit the dead at night? The young man heard a faint whisper, and Kechaiya looked back at him. "You say something?" she asked, making the young man's lips draw down in a thoughtful frown. "No..." he answered warily, moving to follow her. "I thought you did." He hadn't understood the words, but they hadn't seemed entirely like the wind. Then again, it had to be. At least, Deltan really, really hoped that it had been. Deltan's weapon was lowered now, though he kept it on hand. He was planning to stick with Kechaiya...This place gave him the creeps, now that night was coming quickly. Why hadn't it looked this way during the day? It had seemed so much less threatening in the light. The young man laughed uneasily then, saying dismissively, "Must have been the wind. Who are you going to visit?" He tried to change the conversation to something more lighthearted, adding, "I'm Deltan. And you are?"

[Kechaiya]

Kechaiya honestly didn't think the voice belonged to the man, it had felt feminine. But he had been the only logical conclusion since no one else was here. He nervously denied the suggestion though, convinced that it had been her. Despite his nervousness, he lowered his weapon, bringing some comfort to Kechaiya's mind. He suggested the wind, but Kechaiya had spent enough time among the winds of Eyktol to know that if you heard a voice in the wind, it was a person. The winds only talked to those blessed by Zulrav.

His nervousness seemed to be much higher than her own, and it was late and dangerous at night. There could be wolves, grave robbers, or drunken shykeheads out here. Perhaps he could provide some additional protection. "I visit first friend I have when come Sunberth. Her name Calyn. She was leader of Sunset Quarter and orphanages before she die. I Kechaiya." She approached him once more, slowly, so as to not startle him, to not force his weapon to be turned on her. "Want walk with me? No sure where grave is, and is dangerous."

Regardless of his answer, Kechaiya turned and began to head once more away from Leth, westward. Her eyes were now scanning the names on graves, none of whom she knew. She did her best to move around the graves, preferring to not step upon them. Ghosts were spoken of often back in Eyktol, especially in and around Eloab. Everyone there knew of someone who had ventured into Eloab and never returned. Or returned and committed several atrocities that would never have been expected of the individual. Ghosts were a real threat to anyone, save the shamans of her people that were able to communicate, and if necessary, combat the ghosts. So, to be on the safe side, she was not going to test fate by stepping on their bodies.

[Deltan Colari]

Deltan was indeed quite on edge; he was still lucky to be alive rather than dead. He had barely been able to secure employment, and knew he'd have hard times ahead until he could scrape together enough money to leave Sunberth. Unless he went back to Syliras with his tail between his legs, Deltan had no idea where he would go next. Who was to say another place wasn't even worse? He could always try his luck again, picking a random caravan. That definitely went well, considering where he ended up... The young man brought his attention back to the present, his gaze focusing back on Kechaiya instead of staring blanky. He hoped it had only been a couple of moments. "...Orphanages before she die. I Kechaiya," was all he caught of the woman's words at first, though he recalled the rest after a little effort. The woman approached him carefully, acting like he was some sort of dangerous animal. Then again... Thinking back on how he'd acted, he supposed that he might seem a bit threatening. Lowering his weapon hand to his side fully, Deltan placed a reassuring smile on his face and ran his free hand through his copper hair. "I'd be glad to, Kechaiya. It's nice to meet you." Deltan fell in beside Kechaiya and half a step to the side, taking up the traditional position of a bodyguard. Given his straight posture and the way his gaze swept ceaselessly from side to side, he was most definitely making Kechaiya's safety a priority. Deltan had been raised to act as a guard, and he took the responsibility quite seriously whenever he was offering his protection. "Calyn, right?" He asked to make certain he got the name right, doing his own survey of the graves with what little attention he spared from inspecting the increasingly dark graveyard. Like Kechaiya, Deltan avoided stepping on graves when he could, but if it took him more than a foot or so away from Kechaiya's side he simply bore the risk of angering some unhappy ghost. Better to risk that than end up with a gravestone or two between him and his new charge if she needed protection. Not that he thought his sword could do much to stop a ghost. ...Could it? That would be a good thing to find out...But from someone else's experience, not his own. After a few minutes of walking, Deltan glanced over at Kechaiya, smiling at her. "So, what do you do for a living in this city, Kechaiya? Thief?" That last was asked in jocular tones; she didn't move like a thief. Deltan was hardly a judge on such a thing, but he thought a thief would have opted to scurry away instead of offering someone stronger a weapon. Inwardly, Deltan speculated as to Kechaiya's profession. If not a thief, perhaps a whore? No, no. She was pretty enough, to be certain, but those eyes... It wouldn't help her, since these Sunberthans were very closed-minded. Then again, they were a bit odd. They were as welcoming to the other races as they were to humans, or close enough to it to rival any of the decent cities. Black eyes might even be a novelty some would prefer, though Deltan thought the woman could have quite a formidable stare if she chose to. The young man glanced around at the graveyard, growing decidedly uneasy at the darkness. It was becoming hard to see, and the young man kept thinking he saw movement in the shadows. Paranoia, to be certain, but the mind had a nasty habit of playing tricks on those who were expecting trouble.

[Kechaiya]

At his question, she giggle-snorted once more. Like she could be a thief. She recalled several attempts at being sneaky from earlier in the season that had gone horribly awry, such as punting a pot across a ransacked kitchen while kidnappers were still in the orphanage. She was about to respond, when it felt as if the temperature dropped again, "I no thief. I doctor." What an outrageous thought. "What you do?"

She gave him another once over, but couldn't get tell what he might do. Could be anything. Maybe he was a baker. She'd never met a baker. Her eyes kept darting back and forth from grave to grave, not really minding where she was going. Several chimes went by without her speaking, getting ready to give up, when she looked up and realized she was at the western boundary of the cemetery and hadn't found her yet.

Eliciting a curse in Tawna, akin to a fool wandering the desert with only saltwater in his waterskin, she turned around to see if she'd missed it. She was sure it was around here somewhere.

"You're still swearing in that ugly sand language?"

Kechaiya froze. She knew that voice, had heard that same jest before. Looking up toward the sound, coming from behind her companion, she saw her. She saw Calyn. The woman smiled, and floated through Deltan and put herself between them, not caring about the effect that she'd had on the man. She was smiling softly at Kechaiya, as she always had before. "Boy, don't bother swinging that stick at me. Won't do you any good."

Floating closer, she pressed a cold hand against Kechaiya's cheek, "It is so good to see you Onyx Eyes. I've missed you." She then chuckled, "I see you still have your poor sense of direction." Turning toward Deltan, "And who might you be, stick boy?"

Kechaiya was still surprised to see her old friend like this. Her mouth was a bit agape, and she couldn't find anything to say. She looked just as she had before she died, just... see through. And she still seemed pleasant, not deranged and angry like the ghosts from stories. If Noven had seen this, he'd have shyked a brick. "I... How... You..." Then she remembered the manners Calyn had helped her learn. "Is good see you Calyn."

[Deltan Colari]

Deltan chuckled a little as he got a laugh out of the woman. ...Did it count as a laugh? It was definitely an amused noise, but... he wasn't quite sure it counted as laughter. "A doctor?" he asked, still smiling, "I'll come to you when I get roughed up, then." He hoped her prices were good; with all the poor people and the horrible living conditions, he suspected people got sick more often than in Syliras. When asked his own profession, the young man answered, "I'm a bodyguard. I guard people, places, and anything else I get paid to." Then, a bit annoyed, he mumbled something under his breath about being paid peanuts. Really, it irked him how little he was paid. Still, it was better than starving. Deltan followed Kechaiya for a few minutes longer, letting her look where she would. He was about to ask about her eyes when she swore and, remarkably, someone commented on it. That someone was behind him. Whirling about with his stick at the ready like a bat, he...froze. "Boy, don't bother swinging that stick at me. Won't do you any good," the creature said, a pleasant smile on its face. The ghost had the form of an older woman, and a kindly one at that. Even transparent, she seemed nice enough. At least, if she weren't a dead person, it would seem like a sweet smile. Deltan tried to speak, but a soft wheeze was all that came out. Petch, petch, petch! he swore in his head, wishing he'd decided to just stay home. The young man backed up as the ghost approached, bumping into Kechaiya and ducking out from between the pair with a yelp. He stared between the two, shocked that Kechaiya wasn't running away, screaming. Deltan knew he wanted to. He had heard stories about good ghosts and bad ones, but...He still couldn't accept she was right there in front of him. Deltan worked his mouth for a few moments before he could answer Calyn's inquiry. "I... I am..." He swallowed, wishing he didn't seem so frightened. Then, clearing his throat, he said in a voice he wished was more steady, "Deltan, Miss...Ghost." Well, he wanted to be respectful to the nice dead lady. Who could blame him? After Kechaiya recovered herself, she said, "Is good to see you, Calyn." So that was Kechaiya's old friend. Judging from Kechaiya's wide eyes, Deltan didn't think she'd expected to actually talk to Calyn again. Stepping aside to give them some space, the young man decided to just keep quiet. It was best, and not only because he didn't think he could say anything without a slight shiver in his voice. Kechaiya seemed to want to pay her respects, and this was a remarkably good opportunity. Deltan considered using his hypnotism to assist his new friend, but opted not to. Some things had to be dealt with naturally. It would be akin to desecration, to alter anything about Kechaiya's state of mind.

[Kechaiya]

Calyn turned away from Deltan and floated outward so she could speak to the both of them, "What brings you to the Dust Beds child? On a date with your nervous friend here?" Kechaiya turned incredibly crimson, only now realizing the ribbing she would get if she told Calyn that she was seeing Noven. But she'd never been able to hide anything from the woman, and didn't want her thinking she was with this man. They'd only just met. And he had that pale skin she just didn't like, but at least he did look strong. Though she wasn't a fan of the red hair. It was just weird.

"No. No date Deltan. I... I with Noven."

The laughter that filled the Dust Beds was loud and fetching, "Oh I would not have put mizas on that in a hundred years. Really? Noven? That trouble making cook?" But then she thought on it a moment, "Ya know, you too might actually be good for each other. Whatever happened to that bimbo Amael?"

Kechaiya just shrugged, face still dark in blush, "He just say left."

She realized that she hadn't answered the woman's first question, and held up the flowers, "I come put flowers on you grave. I get lost."

"And are you really dead set on this Onyx Eyes?"

"Yes."

"Get any better with that knife of yours?"

Kechaiya shook her head, "You really should work on that some more. You know Sunberth is dangerous. I'll lead you there, if your friend will help protect you. Wolves are over in that part of the Beds right now. What do you say about that Deltan Stick Swinger?"

Kechaiya could feel the shame that only a motherly figure could put upon a child. She really should practice more with her blade, and she knew people who would even be willing to help her with it. And she was now unsure if she really wanted to deal with wolves. There had been plenty of wolves back home in Eyktol, and they were one of the most dangerous things in the desert. Individually they were scary, but you never saw just one wolf. It was a lot to ask of her new companion, but Kechaiya knew better than to take back Calyn's offer. The woman had always been an excellent judge of strength and character, and if she was confident, and she was for she asked, then Kechaiya could be confident in his ability too.