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[Estrellir Konrath]

Spring 90, 516 AV
Sometime after the 18th bell


Estrellir was sitting on a bench, surrounded by flickering lights, whimsical paper ornaments and laughter. The Konti, however, didn’t participate in the festival yet, instead she was holding a round hand mirror and examining her face. Tilting it this way and that, pinching her skin in various places, she made sure no trace of that awful green color was left. She’d sat down to watch Zintila handing jasao blossoms and drink tickets to those who had investigated the mystery of the Sharai Spring. Everyone who had tasted the cursed water had been returned to their original state. Apparently her skin was as pale, her scale as white and opalescent as they had been before.

With a sigh of relief, Estrellir slipped the mirror into a pocket and stood. Despite the special occasion, she was dressed in her usual outfit, a black shirt and pants, complemented by dark leather boots. Having endured Kenash and its sense of etiquette, the Konti had jumped at the opportunity to wear whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. It still felt odd, knowing her family name meant nothing to those people, but in that case, she didn’t mind at all.

Hands in pockets, the Konti drifted through the crowd, in no hurry to get anywhere. The night was still young and Lhavitians loved to party almost as much, if not more than Kenashians did. The Drinking Tent had claimed a prominent location, fitting for its size and telling of its importance. Humming softly to herself, Estrellir entered the tent and approached the bar.

Since free drink tickets had been given out not a bell ago, most of their winners had just settled at tables with their friends and were nursing their drinks. As an experienced drinker, Estrellir tended to head straight for the source, so she claimed a stool at the bar. Waiting for the bartender, she cast a curious glance around the room, taking in faces and sounds.

“Evening, lady, what’s it gonna be?”

Turning back towards the bar, Estrellir didn’t have to think twice. “Have you got any rum? Preferably mixed with something else.” Nodding, the bartender began describing a cocktail called Time’s End. Estrellir ordered it eagerly, then swirled the liquid in her glass and took a sip. Several different flavors exploded on her tongue, mostly sour, but a bit spicy as well, and of course, rummy. She made a mental note to compliment the man later, then looked up and down the bar. If she was lucky, an opportunity to start a conversation would present itself soon, and then she’d have everything she wanted. After all, it was called the Festival of Fellowship, wasn’t it?


OOCThis thread is open to the first 2 PCs, then it will be edited to closed. The reason is that while I like open threads, I know from experience that lots of them get crowded and then die when one person stops posting.

[Eithne]

After the mess that was the Star Festival (at least for Eithne, respectively), the maledictor had been wary about the Festival of Fellowship and its expected shenanigans. She didn't enjoy large crowds, and more importantly, large crowds in small spaces. But one thing had drawn her from her cave and into the open night air: the promise of liquor. Eithne was a drinker, and she enjoyed the atmosphere of a good bar or tavern. This was none of those, but at least it was a way to pay respects to the people that discovered the source of the curse.

This time, she didn't have to wear a dress. Instead she wore a clean cut pair of black pants and a black jacket, with a white blouse underneath. Her sister had bemoaned the sight of her wardrobe and her dismal lack of colours. Being raised in such a poor environment, the frivolities of fashion and luxury were lost on the half-breed. But at least she had the mind to do something with her hair, and even apply kohl around her eyes, to brighten the stark pale green of her irises.

She wandered through the fray, passing the Tent of Voices and stopping momentarily to listen to the drown of words that drifted through the open flap. Maybe after a few drinks. She would need to be at least slightly intoxicated to handle the bombardment of ideas and momentary revelations that seemed to be blessed upon the debaters that frequented these sorts of places. She shook her head and walked on, sometimes pushing past groups of men and women in revelry until she saw the Drinking Tent rise up from the crowd. She walked quicker, stepping into the tent and pausing to look out at the array of tables and chairs and people that were already here. Should have gotten here sooner. Eithne frowned, but wove her way between the seated people, toward the very counter where she spotted an unusual sight, at least to the maledictor, though ethaefal had been truly bewildering to behold.

"Flame King, if you would," Eithne told the bartender before they'd even spoke. As she waited, she glanced toward the alabaster woman she'd conveniently sat next to. From her attire, it seemed that they at least had something in common. The maledictor's lips quirked into a smile. "Your skin colour matches your clothes well." Eithne was awkward with greetings, but she knew she would seem even more awkward just sitting by herself. She seemed to have realized the silliness of that statement because she took a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of her and coughed. "Er, sorry, that sounded stupid."

oocI hope it's alright that I joined! I enjoy your character!

Boxcode by Marion Kay.

[Titus Galesong]

Titus had been told of the festival by a dock worker. He had a friend who was supposed to be tending bar but that didn’t mean anything to the young man. He had a few poppers left in his pocket and they bounced around in there with some kina. There were so many people; the Svefra was starting to feel very comfortable. He waved to this person, shouted at another. It wasn’t that he knew any of these people but being loud and spontaneous was kind of his thing. Titus hadn’t been to any big parties since he’d arrived in Lhavit and was extremely curious to see how the mountain folk threw down. Personally, he wasn’t expecting much but he was growing more optimistic with each face he saw. Women were well-dressed, men were in high spirits and everyone was drinking and indulging themselves in whatever tickled their fancy.

Titus was also curious to see if he could meet the goddess. He couldn’t remember her name but the dock workers talk about how much fun she is to be around. A staggering fellow came at the seafarer and nearly fell. The fisherman stepped to the right and caught the man in the cradle of his tanned arms.

“Hey therrrrre, fella’!” The man was some kind of priest or scholar from what Titus could tell. Why else would any man wear a heavy purple robe to a party? The glassy eyes of the stranger wobbled slowly in the man’s head as he tried to focus on his savior. “Wassss…toooo,” he hiccupped. “Too, too early to be tired, my young m..mmman.” He used the big frame of the Svefra to get to his feet. Titus kept his hands against the man’s shoulders just to be sure.

“Friend, I have something that might help you stay awake.” Titus chimed in a voice that was a bright baritone. “If you tell me where I can get some of that good tonic and five kina, I’ll give ya some of my secret stash.” Titus winked as he said stash and hushed his voice a bit to add intrigue and add mystique to the whole notion.

“Why!” The man blinked three times like he was trying to sort out whether or not Titus was a fish, a bird or a dream. “Tthhheeee drinking tent! Is that!” The drunk man hiccupped again. “That way…” His head slumped forward until it came into contact with Titus’s exposed chest. There was a sound both dainty and familiar. Titus pushed the man back to a standing position and saw some kina on the ground but they weren’t all gold. He shrugged.

“Mister, if you can stand for a moment I’ll fix ya right up.” The seaman balanced the inebriated fellow with his right arm trying to keep him to arm’s distance and rifled through his pocket with his left hand. Gently, he plucked a single sac and slowly moved it towards the man’s face. “When I tell you, take a deep breath through your nose, ok?” More hand-hand-eye-drunk guy coordination brought the sack up against the man’s upper lip. Titus held the sac between his thumb and index finger of his left hand with his palm facing up. “Now!” The Svefra squeezed his fingers together and the tiny membrane sac exploded up. The tipsy party-goer snorted in the soft white gas cloud that resulted from the contents of the sac and the mountain air mixing together.

The drunk man stood upright and opened his eyes wide. Titus took the opportunity to bend down and scoop up the kina pile. It appeared to be less than he asked for but that was ok; he pocketed it quickly and stood up to his full height with a smile. Several ticks went by and the two men just stood there in silence amidst the roar of the festival.

“Whoooooaa!” The man looked really happy and this made Titus grin. “That’s amazing!” He patted Titus on the arm and stumbled along the road as he had before but now every second or third step was something of a skip. The scene just made Titus laugh. He shook his sun-kissed blonde hair and walked onward towards the drinking tent now that he knew where to go. He made long strides and covered the distance quickly. He tossed back the flap an ducked to get inside. The place was packed! Titus looked at his sleeveless cotton shirt. The white was somewhat dingy and the neck had been ripped several times in a hurried attempt to remove or replace the garment. Titus smiled anyway and scratched at his exposed collarbone. He had on his brown leather boots which came up to the bottom of his calves. His pants were a blue that matched the foam large waves make during the onset of a storm. The cotton fabric was frayed at the cuffs and along the waistline. There was no belt, just a piece of rope so the pants sagged down a bit which left just the corner of his left hip bone exposed. In truth, Titus looked like a bum compared to most of these people. Everyone was finely dressed and had neatly trimmed haircuts or elegant stylings. If his height wasn’t enough to make him stick out, the shoddy dress and worn cutlass should do the trick.

Unabashed, he strode towards the bar being polite as he cut between conversations and drunken sessions of heavy petting. Titus came up to the bar with the slight smell of fish, salt and sweat then leaned against the surface of the serving area. The bartender was helping a few women so the Svefra decided to occupy his wait by checking out the ladies. Both were wearing all black; one had white hair and the other had black hair. “Hn.” Titus said more to himself than anyone else. He waited until the service was communicated and tapped his long fingers on the bar, rolling from pinky to thumb in rhythm to a tune in his head. “I know I’m interrupting,” he said as he leaned over the wooden bar and towards the women’s direction. “but did you two plan your outfits?” He offered a charming smile but was quickly distracted as the bartender served the drinks and started to head in the opposite direction. Titus shouted after him. “Oy! I’m pretty, too!” Titus grumbled a bit and returned his attention back to the women. His eyes went from their gazes and down their bodies before resting upon…their drinks. “Those any good?”

[Estrellir Konrath]

OOCThanks for joining, you two!


While watching the crowd, Estrellir began contemplating the name of her drink. She had been to a few local drinking haunts, but the cocktail called Time’s End had to be a specialty. So when or where did time end? Did the end even exist or would time just keep repeating itself? The Konti had watched humans grow up and grow old while she herself remained fresh and young as if still in her twenties. The flow of time seemed to move more slowly for her race, some of them could even look into the past, glean secrets of the present and take rather elaborate guesses at the future. So if you could jump around in time, was there an end to it? Estrellir was looking for an answer other than death, possibly something more educated. Death was the standard answer, too easy.

She was still debating with herself when a female voice was raised next to her. Of course, she’d noticed someone claiming the stool, but had been focused on the colorful bottles behind the bar and her little thought experiment. Now she was met with a smile that didn’t quite reach intense predatory eyes. The woman was definitely taller than her, but they shared the practical dark attire and, judging from her drink, a taste in liquor. “Why, thank you,” Estrellir said eventually. A compliment, followed by apology? Limited social relations, most likely, leading to a less than smooth tongue.

After her arrival in Lhavit, Estrellir had learned that locals didn’t care about appearances as much as Dynasty brats did. They were more relaxed, took more things in stride, were rarely ever offended in their pride. Hierarchy came with fewer rules, social standing wasn’t a ladder, but more akin to a wide plain with some hills. That was why the woman could apologize lightly, Estrellir thought. After a moment of observation, she mirrored the smile. “It only did because you pointed out that it did. If you’re not sure of your lines, deliver them with confidence. Most people wouldn’t dare to contradict you, especially if they don’t know you.”

Violet eyes slightly narrowed, she wondered what the other woman did for a living. Not something dealing with people, no. A trade, perhaps. That predatory air was intriguing though. Before she could introduce herself, however, they were interrupted.

Sailor. Since crossing the Suvan Sea on a Svefra ship, Estrellir knew the look and sound of a sailor. Everything about that young man oozed sunlight and saltwater, from his muscles to his tanned skin to his blue eyes to his slightly ragged outfit. Her eyes began to shine with something more intense than curiosity as Estrellir replied. “As the saying goes, great minds think alike… Sadly though, we weren’t acquainted until about two chimes ago. You, on the other hand, look like the people I sailed with on the Suvan Sea, yet I’m assuming you aren’t closely related to most of them, or are you?” With Svefra, it was hard to tell. She’d always gotten the impression that they were one big family populating the oceans.

Then she lifted her glass. “There’s rum in this one. Reasonably good stuff, I suppose. It’s called Time’s End.”

[Eithne]

Eithne raised a brow at the woman's response. She was surprised she hadn't taken it as an insult, to be fair. When you were raised on dangerous streets, small talk could easily lead to a shank in the gut. Eithne tended to avoid getting shanked. "I don't often hear people complimenting others on their skin," she explained, tipping the edge of her glass lightly. "But in this case, it worked out."

The maledictor's eyes squinted a bit, distracted by the faint glimmer that her skin seemed to exude from the myriad of light sources in this tent. It almost reminded her of... Scales? Eithne's brows raised in surprise. Interesting. We are alike in more than just clothes. Thankfully she didn't say that out loud, though when she opened her mouth as though to ramble on, a man promptly interrupted them.

Eithne's eyes flicked toward him with a carefully sustained poker face. She was used to young men like him. Sailors that reeked of the sea and looked as though they'd never heard of the shade before. Her hometown had been full of them, thick in the halls of taverns and bars, eager to start fights and spit swears that could make a priest of Sylir shudder. It almost felt like she was back home.

"It's a pleasant coincidence," Eithne added to the ivory haired woman's comment. She took a long sip of her drink and studied the sailor for a chime. He seemed bold, brash and shameless. She just hoped he wouldn't get black out drunk. "It's strong, but leaves a nice lasting flavour on your tongue." She paused, as if wondering what to say next. Social interactions always seemed awkward to her. "I take it you're not from Lhavit?" Eithne asked him. "You're a lot louder than most of the people who live here."

Boxcode by Marion Kay.

[Titus Galesong]

Titus quickly realized he may be in a bit over his head. Fortunately, he was a good swimmer even in figurative situations. The Svefra lifestyle tends to lead a person into all sorts of new, strange and potentially dangerous situations. One learns quickly how to read the circumstance, adjust accordingly and then execute. Still being a young man, Titus was very good about skipping the first two steps as it seemed like a waste of time. The woman who spoke first, the petite one with white hair, instantly stalled his motor-mouth with her stare. It was intense, to say the least, but it gave him time to examine her features. The finely crafted cheekbones and slim jawline framed her thin nose and soft eyes well. The shimmering scales furthered the work of her bone structure and made for a rather captivating countenance. Titus unknowingly tilted his head to the side to match the slight angle of the Konti. He had met some in his life but never really been friends with any of the all-female race. Her statement about sailing and follow-up question broke the small trance. Titus’ grin couldn’t possibly get any bigger. He twisted his body so that his left side was easy to see. Using his right hand he pointed at his tattoo while he explained. “A Svefra’s a Svefra, I suppose but these cherry blossoms represent my pod. That’s how you can tell if Svefra are directly related.” Titus looked up and to the right as if contemplating something. Then he returned his sapphire gaze to the Konti woman. “I hope my kinsmen were kind to you. I’d hate to be walking into a bad wave because of some trout who spent too much time adrift.” Titus intended to ask about the rest of her drink contents when the brunette spoke up. The dark-haired woman held an almost expressionless look on her face. Titus wasn’t a subtle man so it’s possible the slight twitch he felt left his face with a scowl of sorts in response to the cold greeting. He started to feel as if she was annoyed by his presence. He dismissed the thought when she offered her assessment of the drink. Dark liquor was like a curse to Titus. He’d spent more than a few mornings trying to figure out where he was or why he was naked or both because of some murky firewater. He smiled and reflexively flicked his tongue when she named the body part. “What kind of flavor?” Titus was eyeing the drink with a bit of hesitation but looked back to the girl. Even seated, he could tell that she was taller than the Konti. The tawny veil sat neatly against her skin and draped along her cheeks. She, too, had high cheekbones but slightly different. The Konti woman was attractive like staring at a sunset on glassy sea. It was this tranquil beauty that made her alluring. Unlike the ivory-haired woman, the makeup around the brunette's eyes made her green irises glow like emeralds emblazoned by Leth’s beams. The contrast of her hair and skin seemed to increase the hypnotic effect of her gaze as if it forced one to look her in the eyes. When the simple fisherman took in the whole of the woman, he felt a tinge of excitement similar to staring at a hungry shark and there was something about her mouth that made him bite his bottom lip. Titus nodded in response to her question about his origins in part because he was drifting but also to affirm her suspicion. He burst into laughter when she called him loud. “I’m the quiet one in my pod!” It suddenly dawned on Titus that he was the loud one, too but that would have to wait. He moved so that he was essentially lying across the bar in order to see both women. His long frame enabled him to do this while keeping a foot on the ground. “I’m Titus, by the way. Remind me to pay for this when that barnacle of a tender comes back.” He lifted a bottle of cheap rum from behind the counter. The sailor gave it a swish then twisted off the cap. He took a quick sniff which made his eyelids flutter. “I could strip the paint off my casinor with this…” He winked towards his new acquaintances and took a couple swigs. When he had finished, his shoulders released a slight shiver and his eyes opened a bit wider than normal. “So anyway, enough about me. I’m just a shmuck fisherman who can’t afford sleeves. I’d rather find out more about you…” He pointed at the Konti’s nose almost touching her and then moved his hand to point towards the dark-haired woman’s chin. “And you!” As his finger came to nearly touch her chin, a bit of static jumped out and zapped him which caused a “Haajipp!” to fly from his mouth as he drew his hand back and stared at his finger. Titus lifted a brow at the woman and was now as confused and curious as ever.

[Estrellir Konrath]

Estrellir lifted her glass slightly before sipping again. In her mind, she consolidated what she’d learned about the woman so far. Not a lack of self-confidence, then, but simply different education and circumstances. Kenash was special in that it thrived on a highly specialized class system. Social hierarchy was crucial and certain rules were to be obeyed. Strength didn’t matter so much as cunning, but Estrellir wasn’t a fool, she knew other places operated on far simpler rules. She wanted to ask the woman about her upbringing, the place she’d grown up in, but to her disappointment, attention had to be split.

There was always more to learn, after all, and somehow the Svefra seemed way more interesting in a tent with a drink in hand than they had around one of their own ships. Tilting her head a little further, she squinted at the tattoo as he explained. “And which pod would that be? No worries, they were kind enough, seeing we’re all creatures of the sea, so to speak.” With a little grin, she lifted her right hand, wriggling her fingers and showing off the translucent webbing between them.

When the woman addressed the sailor and he answered, Estrellir leaned back and took another sip. Her taller, darker counterpart seemed to hold back a little, most likely out of deep-seated mistrust – of his kind in particular or just strangers in general? The boy, on the other hand, seemed at ease, if a little too excited. Then again, he was conversing with two undeniably pretty women.

Estrellir felt the urge to roll her eyes when he simply reached behind the bar and lifted a bottle of rum. Even worse, he drank directly from it, ruining the liquor for anyone else. So, instead of asking him to top off her drink, she merely stared with narrowed violet eyes at the finger he stabbed at her nose. Slowly, another grin spread over her features as she looked first at the Svefra, then at the woman at whom she also directed her question. “As you’ve given yours, I guess names are only fair. Mine is Estrellir Konrath. I hail from Kenash where people tend to invent all manner of weird compliments to flatter their opponents into a watery grave. And where do you come from?”

If one looked close enough, they would detect a rosy tint on the Konti’s pale cheeks. The cocktail was starting to warm her up, if nothing else.

[Eithne]

Eithne was rather used to young men of all shapes and sizes making fools of themselves in a tavern setting. Women weren't exempt from such things either, but they hardly ever approached her, perhaps because of her intimidating demeanor, though if the half-breed was asked, she would never had considered herself imposing or intimidating in the slightest. It was more than apparent to her that this young man wouldn't pass up the chance to speak with both herself and the ivory woman, despite her supposed "prickly" appearance, and for that, she could give him some credit. He was bold, foolhardy, perhaps, but bold.

When he mentioned his "pod", Eithne raised a brow, her eyes flicking toward the tattoo of the blossom on his arm. "Why wouldn't you just ask each other's names?" The maledictor pointed out when Titus explained the significance of his tattoo. "It would seem rather complicated in the case of marriages, wouldn't it? Unless you get tattoos for that, too." She shrugged. She wasn't an expert on Svefran, having only been exposed to the sailors that often made a ruckus when they downed too many drinks.

Speaking of drinks, she glanced down at her own at his question, stirring the contents with a tilt of the cup. "Citrus, mostly," she answered. "It has a pleasant aftertaste, but quite strong, if you're not used to it." A teasing smile twitched on her lips, casting Titus a glance. She couldn't have known how much the Svefra drank, but she theorized he wasn't the type to handle his liquor well. When he grabbed the bottle of rum and promptly ingested a good portion of it, she stared with an amused look.

"You muddied the waters with your taint," Eithne said, forthrightly. "But by all means," she waved a hand with a trickster's smile. "Help yourself to more." She took another sip of her own glass and swallowed, the warmth rolling down her throat in hot waves. "Try the whisky, it's like a hearth on your tongue. You'll enjoy it."

It was so much a friendly suggestion as it was a test to see just how much she could get the young man to drink before he fell over. The drinking tent was loud enough with its occupants, one more loud sailor couldn't hurt.

"My name is Eithne," she added, following the woman's introduction. "I've only ever heard of Kenash, I've never been there. My father once told me it was the 'cradle of gossip.'" There was a pause as her lips lifted in a smile, remembering the memory. She intentionally evaded the question of where she came from, instead deflecting the topic back to the woman. "What's your reason for coming here?" She asked her. "Not many people find their way to a city as remote as this, at least not without cause."

Boxcode by Marion Kay.

Common | Ancient tongue | Snake Tongue

[Titus Galesong]

Titus was feeling quite well despite being indoors. It was a lovely night and he was missing the soft lap of the waves against his ship but the company was fairer than usual so he would accept the noise and try not to drink himself into next season. He took another swig of the rum and mimicked the sound of a bubble being popped with his lips when he was finished. The young man certainly knew how to amuse himself. When asked about his pod, he smiled but somewhere deep within the swells of his irises’ tide, there was a sadness though his face and tone did not convey as much. “Galesong!” He slapped the tattoo with the cherry blossoms which resounded in a nice loud crack off of the trim muscle. “All of the women had red hair like a burning sunset, I tell ya.” A pang in his gut made Titus shift his gaze up above the women for a moment to allow a misty fog to pass over and away from his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the webbed hands of the Konti and smiled wide. “If’n ya feel like a swim sometime, let me know. Ushaka likes meeting new people." Titus took another swig of the rum and decided he was done with the bottle for the time being so he set it down on the bar next to the cork. The conversation moved on swiftly and the woman of ivory hair and opalescent scales introduced herself as Estrellir. Her name rolled like a wave in open water and Titus couldn’t resist the temptation to silently repeat it while slowly sounding it out in his head making sure to pronounce it properly. He learned that most people are fond of their names and it’s best to get it right when you use it. He listened in some more and nodded having heard of the swamp city. There was a large Svefra presence there but to his father and pod, they were weak Svefra. His lia once told him that ‘any Svefra who allows herself to be tied down is no longer a Svefra’. He also remembered something about those Svefra being led by a male. This made Titus snort briefly. Men weren’t built to lead on the seas. Their brains are wired too much to their pride which can make for some really bad decisions. For some strange reason, circle began to float into his mind. Fratava words encircled objects and created strange and powerful relics. Titus blinked and shook his head then immediately looked to the rum. He mouthed the words ‘good shyke’ in Fratava. He was about to take another drink when he blinked back into the conversation which had rotated back to pod tattoos. He smirked a bit at the dark-haired woman. Her question was an honest one and deserved a decent answer. “Tats are the story of one’s life displayed on his body through high art.” Titus looked at the woman trying to gauge whether or not his response had been sufficient. It was hard to say but the topics shifted once more. The sailor nodded thinking about how much he enjoys the flavors of citrus but was once again reminded of dark liquor experiences from his past and pushed the thought from his mind. He listed to her name and felt it come from his tongue like a hiss. He mouthed it to himself much as he did with Estrellir’s because he had found it a good technique to helping his oft-soggy brain remember names. The circles came back and he began to feel overwhelmed by the rush of images. Before he knew it, Titus had his dagger out and was carving a series of circles into the bartop. Each of the five got progressively smaller but they all linked. Next, he pricked his finger and began to trace the rings with Fratavan words but before he could finish, he felt a strange feeling wash over him and bring him back to reality. For several chimes, Titus was unsure as to where he was or why he was there. He looked at the faces of the women near him and had no recollection of their introductions but then it seemed to pass. He nervously tucked the dagger away and sucked the drop of blood from his finger. His cool and laid back demeanor had been replaced by quiet confusion. He needed to be near the seas but like all Svefra, he took the next best option. Titus lifted the bottle of rum and took several long drags of the coolish liquid into his mouth and swallowed it down. The light burn reminded him of the party and his new friends but the strange image he had left on the bar would not be easy to just forget. As he awaited the Konti’s response to Eithne’s inquiry, Titus debated taking a popper. LadiesSorry for the delay and thank you for your patience! I hope this works for you both.

[Estrellir Konrath]

Estrellir nodded along to further remarks about the Svefra tattoos as the criticism seemed justified and the questions were interesting to her. Within Kenash, people knew which family had bred whom, the Konti even more so than others due to her gift, but she supposed that the Svefra, sailing wide and far, might need a way of identifying unfamiliar faces and adding them to a family tree. Anyway, any sort of knowledge might come in handy when she decided to cross the Suvan once more.

Maybe she’d even end up with the Galesong pod and knowing Titus would lead to advantages. So when he spoke of swimming, she offered a smile, however fleeting. “I might, although I hardly expect the waters to warm up during summer.”

While the other woman, Eithne, spoke of drinks, Estrellir leaned back and sipped her own. It seemed they complimented each other nicely, both encouraging the man to drink with them in their own way. They never interrupted each other, but continued where the other had left off. Seamlessly. With that observation, Estrellir felt her curiosity grow. Eithne seemed like a woman with interesting secrets, so she paid special attention to everything she did or said.

When addressed again, she offered a thin smile. The fact that her own question had been cleverly evaded didn’t escape her. “Compliments, gossip – they’re really two sides of the same coin, no? I left to become an entity apart from my well-known family, broaden my horizon and all that. I came here because I heard rumors about Lhavit and its… unusual approach to teaching exceptional skills.” Eithne certainly had the mind for magic, yet Estrellir wasn’t comfortable mentioning it openly. She could almost hear Thomas whispering in her ear, agreeing.

With every sip of the cocktail, words slipped from her lips more easily though. Trying to be sensible, Estrellir placed her glass on the bar and pulled out her battered pipe. Despite the scratched and discolored wood, the silver ornaments still shone brightly. It took her only a few ticks to fill and light it, soon she was blowing a cloud of blueish smoke at Titus. However, the Svefra seemed to be busy carving clumsy circles with his dagger. “Hey, don't hurt yourself. If you don’t put it away, the bartender might take it as payment for that bottle. What are those anyway?” A daring finger traced the circles and the words she couldn’t read. Secrets still radiated a pull that she couldn't resist.