The seventy-second day of fall, 515 AV
The Garden was peaceful, though in a way different from Whisper's home in that noise still permeated the well kept - albeit autumn grey - grounds while still maintaining a somber atmosphere. It was in no small part due to those who populated the courtyard, they were even more wraith like in their presence than the ghosts had been the day before, lost in their own thoughts, their own worlds. It was a place of meditation and contemplation, something that was easily seen on the worn faces of those who stood and knelt at the edges of the meticulously placed stones that were so carefully embedded in a backdrop of fine sand. Some spoke, their words quiet and muffled, voices subdued in either prayer or mourning, it was difficult for him to tell the difference. What he had come for, however, he had found, and as he gingerly eased himself onto one of the many sturdy benches that surrounded the sea of stones, Keene let his shoulders loosen and eyes close, if just for a chime, letting the peaceful sobriety of the garden soothe more than his aching body.
It was then he felt a slight tug at his belt, something slight and errant - or it would have been had Keene been in the jostle of sweating flesh that was the city's lifebood. Rather than respond immediately, Keene instead let his eyes open just slightly, his gaze directed at where he had felt the slight pull. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not to see the strings of his coin purse untying themselves. It was something that was reminiscent of the same abilities that Lorelei had displayed during his their short partnership together, and one that he had never understood beyond the practical applications of whatever it had been. As the purse was opened, Keene took the opportunity to draw on the rolling clouds of his will, funneling the power of his djed through his senses, a controlled stream of pure energy seeping into sight and smell and taste and feel. What he saw, as his body stiffened some with the effort of using his auristics and trying to remain as inert and unaware as possible, was a bit of surprise.
There was a hand, fingers hidden within the folds of the leather pouch, that shimmered with the pulse of magic and life, only its aura was bright, like that of the living rather than the faded grey of the undead. There was more to the aura, flecks of gold and crimson dancing just beyond the edges of the flairs that the exertion of magic cast. With the culprit in his sights, Keene took the opportunity to quickly extend his own hand, wrapping his fingers around the otherwise invisible wrist in a smooth, darting movement. For a tick, he felt his fingers close around the slight give that one might expect from grabbing another person. As he kept his gaze fully focused on the aura, there was a surge of wavering yellow, the tints of gold fading to give way to the new wave of sour tasting emotion that carried with it a hint of smoke. The purse was released, and the hand slid from Keene's grip, its aura's light fading some as what appeared to be its temporary tangibility was withdrawn to allow the hand a route of escape.
It shot away, like a child caught in the act, and Keene's sharp, grey-green gaze follow its movements as it returned to its caster. His stare was met with the surprised start of a young man about Keene's own age. Dark hair stuck out in a messy crop, eyes that would have otherwise been brooding sat comfortably under a stern brow, though the man's expression was a mix of confusion and uncertainty. The distance was too far for Keene's auristics to give him any information, and even the strain of attempting to do so had given rise a sharp pain in his left temple. Releasing the magic, Keene let out a slow, steady breath, pushing the flow of his energies back to their proper place as he rose to stand, legs stiff but responsive enough to support him while he kept his focus on the other man. For a time, neither made a move, their silent standstill unnoticed by those around them. As ticks threatened to fall to chimes, another man stood, face younger and pockmarked by his adolescence. His lips moved, eyes flicking back towards Keene as he spoke, and when the other man replied, the boy raised a brow, turning to give Keene his full attention.
Though the first had not been dressed to suggest he was one of the Order, the other wore defensive leathers and had upon his hip a lengthy blade in sheath. While Keene couldn't be sure, it seemed that the thief-mage had connections among those who were supposed to protect the city. He watched calmly, arms loose at his sides and djed rolling within him in gathering clouds, as the two picked their way across the garden, haste just barely suppressed by the general gravity of the courtyard's tone. When they were close enough, the younger man pointed to Keene, finger directed at the middle of Keene's chest as he gave his companion a stern frown. "Apologize." The word was unexpected, and Keene's eyes flickered with his own surprise, turning to face the dark haired man who's features had recovered from his initial shock.
"...For what." His eyes held a defiant flare, emotion meeting a passive gaze as Keene regarded him more closely. There was a moment in which he considered double checking the man's aura to confirm that it had, indeed, been he who had sought to pilfer from him, but the sharp bite of his head's ache reminded him it was best to solve things in a more mundane fashion, at the very least until it receded some.
The other boy, however, gave his companion a jab in the ribs with his elbow, speaking under his breath as his eyes slid in a sideways glance. "You said he saw you."
In an equally muted voice, the darker haired man glared back, "Yeah. That's what I said to you. Petch, Will. I thought you were gonna do some knight shyke and scare-"
Keene frowned then, crossing his arms as the two turned their attentions back to him. "Please continue."
The boy, Will, shook his head, a slight flush to his cheeks as he offered Keene a slight bow. "Will Salpes, squire to Dom-"
It was the thief's turn to knock the other with his elbow. "Don't petching tell him who your patron is, idiot!"
"Tobias-"
Keene waited while the two fell into whispers, slowly growing tired of the exchange. He had been interested in the dark haired man for his magical abilities, but the duo before him seemed far less erudite than the practitioners of Sahova. If there was no knowledge to be gained, Keene preferred to return to the peace and quiet the Garden had offered before their advent. "Is there anything else, Will Salpes?" The young squire seemed to be the more logical of the two, if only by a small amount.
"Wh-" He paused, frowning, before he spoke again. "Yes. I would ask that you not tell anyone of what happened here."
A brow was raised, if only slightly, as Keene considered the request. He did not make it a habit of exposing the secrets of others, but the squire had provided a potentially useful bit of leverage for him. Turning his gaze to rest on the scowling Tobias, Keene replied with a steady, soft tone, malice absent in every regard but the actual words said. "And if I refuse?"
Tobias jerked his chest towards him, eyes carrying with them a menace of threat. "It won't end well for you."
Will rolled his eyes as Keene held his ground, eyes calmly sizing up the other man before turning back to the brown haired squire, effectively ignoring the vapid intimidation of his companion. "Is this extortion?" There was no humor in his voice, and Will responded to it with a confused frown.
"No. This is just a request. I'm sure Tobias is sorry-"
"Sorry he got caught by this shyke." The man's interruption continued as he gave Keene a heated frown, obviously bothered by Keene's discovery of his capabilities. "How the petch did you do that, anyway?"
With the potential for trade, Keene's interests were quickly restored. Calm and quiet, Keene replied, speaking to Tobias as an equal for the first time. "I would ask you the same."
"I bet you'd like to know, petcher." There was a scoff to his tone that didn't quite ring with the overall displeasure he'd been expressing. For those who practiced magic, the prospect of new knowledge was always a tantalizing bait, like a flame set out for a moth.
"Would you keep quiet if Tobias told you about his pro-"
"Gods, Will, don't just tell him!" Tobias pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, massaging away some of his frustrations as Will fell silent, obedient for the time being out of embarrassment more than anything else. "I swear, how you made it out of Sunberth..." He cut himself off, shaking his head and offering Will an apologetic frown. "Sorry." Turning to address Keene once more, Tobias let out a huff of exasperation. "Look. If you swear you won't tell anyone about what... happened," He made a vague gesture, voice still at a consipiratory tone, "I'll tell you how I did it. If you tell me how you caught me."
"That is acceptable to me." With the prospect of Tobias' explanation on a magic Keene had long since wondered about, the man could have had a hundred requirements and Keene would have still obliged. His face revealed little, however, as the knowledge was already promised him, and there was no point in correcting the other man's negotiation.
Will let out a slight, relieved sigh. "Thank you...?"
"Keene."
The Garden was peaceful, though in a way different from Whisper's home in that noise still permeated the well kept - albeit autumn grey - grounds while still maintaining a somber atmosphere. It was in no small part due to those who populated the courtyard, they were even more wraith like in their presence than the ghosts had been the day before, lost in their own thoughts, their own worlds. It was a place of meditation and contemplation, something that was easily seen on the worn faces of those who stood and knelt at the edges of the meticulously placed stones that were so carefully embedded in a backdrop of fine sand. Some spoke, their words quiet and muffled, voices subdued in either prayer or mourning, it was difficult for him to tell the difference. What he had come for, however, he had found, and as he gingerly eased himself onto one of the many sturdy benches that surrounded the sea of stones, Keene let his shoulders loosen and eyes close, if just for a chime, letting the peaceful sobriety of the garden soothe more than his aching body.
It was then he felt a slight tug at his belt, something slight and errant - or it would have been had Keene been in the jostle of sweating flesh that was the city's lifebood. Rather than respond immediately, Keene instead let his eyes open just slightly, his gaze directed at where he had felt the slight pull. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not to see the strings of his coin purse untying themselves. It was something that was reminiscent of the same abilities that Lorelei had displayed during his their short partnership together, and one that he had never understood beyond the practical applications of whatever it had been. As the purse was opened, Keene took the opportunity to draw on the rolling clouds of his will, funneling the power of his djed through his senses, a controlled stream of pure energy seeping into sight and smell and taste and feel. What he saw, as his body stiffened some with the effort of using his auristics and trying to remain as inert and unaware as possible, was a bit of surprise.
There was a hand, fingers hidden within the folds of the leather pouch, that shimmered with the pulse of magic and life, only its aura was bright, like that of the living rather than the faded grey of the undead. There was more to the aura, flecks of gold and crimson dancing just beyond the edges of the flairs that the exertion of magic cast. With the culprit in his sights, Keene took the opportunity to quickly extend his own hand, wrapping his fingers around the otherwise invisible wrist in a smooth, darting movement. For a tick, he felt his fingers close around the slight give that one might expect from grabbing another person. As he kept his gaze fully focused on the aura, there was a surge of wavering yellow, the tints of gold fading to give way to the new wave of sour tasting emotion that carried with it a hint of smoke. The purse was released, and the hand slid from Keene's grip, its aura's light fading some as what appeared to be its temporary tangibility was withdrawn to allow the hand a route of escape.
It shot away, like a child caught in the act, and Keene's sharp, grey-green gaze follow its movements as it returned to its caster. His stare was met with the surprised start of a young man about Keene's own age. Dark hair stuck out in a messy crop, eyes that would have otherwise been brooding sat comfortably under a stern brow, though the man's expression was a mix of confusion and uncertainty. The distance was too far for Keene's auristics to give him any information, and even the strain of attempting to do so had given rise a sharp pain in his left temple. Releasing the magic, Keene let out a slow, steady breath, pushing the flow of his energies back to their proper place as he rose to stand, legs stiff but responsive enough to support him while he kept his focus on the other man. For a time, neither made a move, their silent standstill unnoticed by those around them. As ticks threatened to fall to chimes, another man stood, face younger and pockmarked by his adolescence. His lips moved, eyes flicking back towards Keene as he spoke, and when the other man replied, the boy raised a brow, turning to give Keene his full attention.
Though the first had not been dressed to suggest he was one of the Order, the other wore defensive leathers and had upon his hip a lengthy blade in sheath. While Keene couldn't be sure, it seemed that the thief-mage had connections among those who were supposed to protect the city. He watched calmly, arms loose at his sides and djed rolling within him in gathering clouds, as the two picked their way across the garden, haste just barely suppressed by the general gravity of the courtyard's tone. When they were close enough, the younger man pointed to Keene, finger directed at the middle of Keene's chest as he gave his companion a stern frown. "Apologize." The word was unexpected, and Keene's eyes flickered with his own surprise, turning to face the dark haired man who's features had recovered from his initial shock.
"...For what." His eyes held a defiant flare, emotion meeting a passive gaze as Keene regarded him more closely. There was a moment in which he considered double checking the man's aura to confirm that it had, indeed, been he who had sought to pilfer from him, but the sharp bite of his head's ache reminded him it was best to solve things in a more mundane fashion, at the very least until it receded some.
The other boy, however, gave his companion a jab in the ribs with his elbow, speaking under his breath as his eyes slid in a sideways glance. "You said he saw you."
In an equally muted voice, the darker haired man glared back, "Yeah. That's what I said to you. Petch, Will. I thought you were gonna do some knight shyke and scare-"
Keene frowned then, crossing his arms as the two turned their attentions back to him. "Please continue."
The boy, Will, shook his head, a slight flush to his cheeks as he offered Keene a slight bow. "Will Salpes, squire to Dom-"
It was the thief's turn to knock the other with his elbow. "Don't petching tell him who your patron is, idiot!"
"Tobias-"
Keene waited while the two fell into whispers, slowly growing tired of the exchange. He had been interested in the dark haired man for his magical abilities, but the duo before him seemed far less erudite than the practitioners of Sahova. If there was no knowledge to be gained, Keene preferred to return to the peace and quiet the Garden had offered before their advent. "Is there anything else, Will Salpes?" The young squire seemed to be the more logical of the two, if only by a small amount.
"Wh-" He paused, frowning, before he spoke again. "Yes. I would ask that you not tell anyone of what happened here."
A brow was raised, if only slightly, as Keene considered the request. He did not make it a habit of exposing the secrets of others, but the squire had provided a potentially useful bit of leverage for him. Turning his gaze to rest on the scowling Tobias, Keene replied with a steady, soft tone, malice absent in every regard but the actual words said. "And if I refuse?"
Tobias jerked his chest towards him, eyes carrying with them a menace of threat. "It won't end well for you."
Will rolled his eyes as Keene held his ground, eyes calmly sizing up the other man before turning back to the brown haired squire, effectively ignoring the vapid intimidation of his companion. "Is this extortion?" There was no humor in his voice, and Will responded to it with a confused frown.
"No. This is just a request. I'm sure Tobias is sorry-"
"Sorry he got caught by this shyke." The man's interruption continued as he gave Keene a heated frown, obviously bothered by Keene's discovery of his capabilities. "How the petch did you do that, anyway?"
With the potential for trade, Keene's interests were quickly restored. Calm and quiet, Keene replied, speaking to Tobias as an equal for the first time. "I would ask you the same."
"I bet you'd like to know, petcher." There was a scoff to his tone that didn't quite ring with the overall displeasure he'd been expressing. For those who practiced magic, the prospect of new knowledge was always a tantalizing bait, like a flame set out for a moth.
"Would you keep quiet if Tobias told you about his pro-"
"Gods, Will, don't just tell him!" Tobias pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, massaging away some of his frustrations as Will fell silent, obedient for the time being out of embarrassment more than anything else. "I swear, how you made it out of Sunberth..." He cut himself off, shaking his head and offering Will an apologetic frown. "Sorry." Turning to address Keene once more, Tobias let out a huff of exasperation. "Look. If you swear you won't tell anyone about what... happened," He made a vague gesture, voice still at a consipiratory tone, "I'll tell you how I did it. If you tell me how you caught me."
"That is acceptable to me." With the prospect of Tobias' explanation on a magic Keene had long since wondered about, the man could have had a hundred requirements and Keene would have still obliged. His face revealed little, however, as the knowledge was already promised him, and there was no point in correcting the other man's negotiation.
Will let out a slight, relieved sigh. "Thank you...?"
"Keene."
