Closed Trepidations (Haneht)

[Haneht]

80th, Summer 518av

They were both such strange people. One with six arms, with his head always up in the clouds. The other a winged seal by day and fallen celestial being by night. One who attacked and sought to please the exact same person within the same bell, and the other being said victim who harboured her potential end, shielding his crimes even when she had every opportunity to get him into trouble. Maybe they aere both mental. Now that they were alone once more in the setting of her cottage and Haneht was more or less calm, the gangly youth was starting to question her motives and actions a little more. He was a dreamer, sure, a little airheaded at times, but he still had a functioning adult brain. Why had Mauriel chosen to keep her promise? Why protect him, her attacked, help him even when he was not really deserving of it?

Had he really been forgiven so easily?

"Nice night out," He offered, a little awkwardly.

Joining her on the ground, he propped himself against the wall, pointedly avoiding her gaze for a while and opting to gaze into the distant night instead. Amber eyes proved the darkness, barely able to make out the shapes of nearby cottages and the flickering outdoor lamps of her surrounding neighbours. Tucking his stalky legs to his chest and encircling his arms around himself, the brunet huddled up against the wall to ward off the unusual cold of this particular Summer night. Lhavit generally had a cooler climate, what wth it being mountainous city and all, but never in his past two years of residency had Haneht experienced a Summer this chilly. Or foggy. What was going on with the weather?

Mauriel's laughter, this sweet, tinkling sound, made the Eypharian laugh too. His own, a goofy, boyish sort that seemed to suit him well despite the husky tones he produced. There was something knew, he thought as the woman explained her presence outside. Lethaefal ate moonlight, and Synaefal ate sunlight. Like plants. Casting he eyes towards her, his stare lingered briefly on the marks by her neck, a little less visible than they had initially been, but present nonetheless. Conflict swum in their molten pools, and he averted his gaze once more to look at the night sky instead, hoping to make out constellations born from stars cannot bruises instead. Unfortunately, the recent peculiar weather meant that most of the stars were obscured, either by clouds or the thick fog that no one could seem to understand the timing of. Tonight, it was just the pair of unlikely friends and the Moon. Leth, her patron deity. Mauriel's creator.

A billion questions danced on the top of his tongue, flames burning and licking at the roof of his mouth and his throat, eating away at him. Which should he ask first? He was not quite ready to confront her for an explanation just yet, why she had chosen to help him instead of turn him in to the Shinya, have her drive and revenge against him.

Haneht heaved a muted sigh. "Do you remember anything? Before you fell."

[Mauriel]

At his comment about the nice night, with a slight nod, she just turned her gaze back at the moon. It wasn't her intention to ignore him, it just offered her solace and comfort that the turbulent emotions were taking away from her. She was glad to have his company as he sat down beside her, something big and ghastly trying to rip its way out of her, yearning to share and be understood. She hated herself for being this weak, for seeing good in a murderous person just because she was that desperate to see it within herself. And yet she also wanted to put all that under lock and key, to never let him or anyone else know, much less care. What if he made it feel better? Would she ever be able to let go of that?

Despite that, his question came, as ordered, as if he had some idea of what she was thinking or feeling. She stayed silent for a bit. He must have wanted to know, to understand the person who didn't give him up after all that. Was that a genuine interest or mere perverse curiosity? Did it matter?

She didn't look at him, couldn't. "Guilt," she replied, Leth still reflected in her eyes. "And many, many other things. Love, joy, betrayal, loss, friendship... I don't remember anyone or anything in particular, but I can recall what it is to watch your child die, or a friend finally finding happiness." She wondered if she should say more. How would she even explain it? Failing to do something over and over over the course of centuries because you're so weak and self-absorbed and being cast back aware of that worthlessness, how could she even begin to describe to someone... What was he, 20, 21? Many would think her naive or unwise, perhaps because she was here for no more than a season, but the truth is that she often just found it hard to care for her useless self and prioritized stupid whims, like she always did, over her long-term wellbeing and goals. Like she was doing right now, opening up, for the first time since she got trapped in this mortal coil, to somebody who tried to take even that away from her. Tears were streaming down her face again, and she was reminded of the night she fell into the sea, of the confusion and longing, and determination she managed to find. Where was it now? "All of that disappeared with Leth," she continued through the tears. "It was as if everything was put into perspective. I don't remember my time there, but I know that it was peaceful, like nothing I could imagine before that. I still don't feel like I have my actual mind, I feel like a fragment of what I was there, like the rest is caged away and laughing at my stupid face." She smiled a bit at that, but it was a twisted, annoyed, ugly grin, exceptionally ominous on the Leth's canvas that was her face. "Though I don't think I'd go back if I could. At least I wish I was a person who wouldn't."

She had no idea whether any of what she was saying made sense, the only thing she knew was that however much it hurt to say it, it felt like an enormous weight off her shoulders, and that's all she could care about right now. She longed for touch, embrace, but dared not ask. She had an urge to apologize, but had no idea over what. Maybe she would have made the Eypharian's life simpler if she just turned him in. Maybe he wouldn't have to grapple with difficult feelings like she did now. Maybe he could just pay for what he did, and if he got to keep his life maybe he could feel okay with himself. But that wasn't really true, and even if it were he'd probably hate her for saying anything along those lines. Or hate himself over it.

"Why do you ask?" she said at the end. She was used to complete strangers posing that question at this point, and yet she felt like there must be an ulterior motive here. Besides, the only other thing at her mind was asking him whether she was crazy, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer to that one.

[Haneht]

80th, Summer 518av

Mauriel's silence struck Haneht as a little odd, considering she had been the more talkative one out of both of them earlier. Though, he supposed it was not always neccessary to have to fill the silence all the time. She did not chase him off, at the very least, merely nodded in acknowledgement of his presence, so that meant his company was not minded, right?

The Akvatari-Ethaefal seemed to be thinking very deeply, reflective doe-eyes betraying her lack of mental presence. She was lost in her own sea of thoughts, as the younger of the two often was. Likely mulling over the day's events, perhaps regretting her decision of shielding him, or wondering why Leth had turned his back on her. Let her fall to Mizahar, where even Haneht had to admit, was unworthy of a dazzling creature like herself. Mauriel, despite her petite stature, was perhaps one of the loveliest things he had ever laid his eyes upon. Full features, silken midnight hair and shimmering horns like the finest jade. It was like every one of them was a statue carved to perfection and breathed life into. Seeing her now, even out of her Akvatarai form, Haneht could sense the longing and great loss associated with every fallen Ethaefal, no longer in the embrace of their beloved deity. What God could be so cruel to ignore their divine children, to leave them on Mizahar for the cruelty of the world, of mortals, to defile? At this, he too felt a semblance of pity and sorrow for her, which, if one knew Haneht, would know that empathy was difficult to coax out of him.

Leth's image remained in her eyes, framed by the vibrancy of her irises. Hearing her speak, it was crystal clear that she mourned, grieved over her many losses. It took him by surprise, however, to learn that she felt Guilt most prominently. Guilt and a great sense of loss. What must it have felt like, to have lived so many lifetimes and have memories of them, even if they came in vague little fragments? The emotions associated with them were surely unforgettable. He has had no children of his own, at least, none that he knew of—and he hoped it would remain that way—but he could relate to watching a loved one die. Very, very well. To have to watch the colour drain from their cheeks, the light fade from beautiful oak eyes and feel the warmth leech from their body. To have to burn them, incinerate their beautiful, hollow shell and leave nothing but ashes behind. In Mauriel's tears, Haneht could almost see his own. And like a dam, her troubles burst through, woes and grief spilling from soft, rosy lips.

Where most would've comforted her, probably, Haneht remained still next to her, not daring to so much as lift a finger near her. Comforting someone, at least platonically, had never really been something he excelled at. Children maybe, for they were easy to dupe and pacify, but Mauriel was a grown woman despite her naivete, likely centuries older than he.

Perhaps they were more alike than he thought, came the dawning realisation. They've both depended on someone for most of their lives, on the identity that had been shaped for them to an extent, the comfort and blind devotion that gave them security and contentment. The only difference, perhaps, was that Haneht himself broke free of that, while Mauriel had had it taken from her. For a creature once so pure and exalted, falling from the graces of her God had certainly taken away something. That twisted, heart-wrenching smile betrayed her mortality, the taint of life, and she did not seem as divine as Haneht had initially made her out to be. Didn't seem as inhuman.

"I can't say I understand completely," offered the Eypharian, wistful longing in his own molten orbs. "But I see your confusion. Who you were, who you want to be. Who you were meant to be. You're frustrated. Scared...?" He grew a little unsure. "You're here now though. With a new life, of sorts. You probably miss Leth, terribly, but I think you should move on rather than continue to depend on him. Whatever it is you need or are looking for, I don't think he can give you that anymore." He allowed his gaze to slowly return to her eyes, finally meeting them to find them red-rimmed and glistening with fat, salty pearls. He too wanted someone's touch. The only comfort he allowed others to give him nowadays, the only comfort he could come to terms with needing from others. Mauriel looked like she could use a hug herself. A hand hovered, hesitantly, and again he denied himself of something he needed.

"Just curious, I suppose. You seemed so sad and lost. I wondered what you were thinking as you were looking at Him." Answered the boy truthfully.

[Mauriel]

While her words brought relief to the Ethaefal, she was even more relieved when Haneht spoke of them. He clearly empathized, it seemed like he could understand how it felt, and yet he didn't understand why. She didn't really tell him, she supposed. And once the initial burst of her emotions has past, she was kind of happy that it was that way. He gave her advice, but he seemed to see her as, well, normal. A usual Ethaefal would perhaps be stuck with their eyes on the sky for the reasons he described. She was stuck because she endlessly had to remind herself that a being so much purer and more powerful than her gave her the time of day and considered her worthy of help for no tangible reason she could think of, so it was not on her to decide that she was not indeed worthy.

"Where's that coming from?" she asked. Realizing the question might have been a bit strange, she clarified. "I mean, you sound so certain, like it's something you've thought about before." She wondered what hid behind those strange eyes of his. What could drive one so far from home and push them into murderous rage over an insult, and what made the same person not run away and instead risk her exposing him, which was more than likely from his point of view, and now sit in front of her cottage ruminating about life? She noticed the hesitant hand motion, realizing he also wanted affection. But she couldn't, shouldn't. She wanted it too much to allow it to herself. So she let his hand slip back into place, as if it want unnoticed, secretly both cursing and thanking him for not being more assertive.

Perhaps the brunet was right. So many things were given to the Ethaefal, but were any of them what she really wanted? She wanted to want them, but why was that even? Why couldn't she just hug the Eypharian, allow herself to bond, have friends, enjoy The Star of Kalea and her nice position within it, hone her arts and expand her knowledge in the safety of the city until the end of time? Why did she feel compelled to pursue this stupid romantic goal her soul conjured up in its feverish dreams, like a sickness permeating her many lifetimes? Maybe the answer really was to let go of Leth and what she used to be, and try to discover who she really was now. But the mere thought scared her to the bones, made her feel naked, and empty, and ugly. What she was without these mad dreams of hers was a lost soul with nobody to turn to and nothing to believe in. And that was not the leap she was prepared to take. But what if that was what Leth had intended? Maybe he didn't want her bumping against the same wall she's spend centuries bumping against, maybe the clarity was given to her for her to understand how fruitless it was?

She felt like she was going in circles. The sky was slowly brightening and she knew she'd soon transform. She thought she might as well get back in on her legs before that. "It's almost dawn. You wanna come in? I'd figure out some breakfast if you're hungry." It was a stupid offer, she was a bad cook and tired as hell, but she wanted to care for him in some way, quiver of his hand still fresh in her mind. And despite not eating too much because of moonlight, she still kept food in her house, as if she was expecting visitors, though no one ever came.

[Haneht]

80th, Summer 518av

Mauriel's tears had unknowingly led Haneht to lower his guard, lower his defences and give extremely personal advice to the strangest of strangers. He had been so deeply entrenched, had so willingly invested himself into helping ease Mauriel's centuries worth of grief that he failed to realise that in doing so he too was, in a way, baring himself. Exposing everything he had worked to hide, to maintain that flawless nonchalance and absent-mindedness he would prance and gallivant about with.

Well, at least they've dried. The thought failed to comfort him.

Alarm bells sounded in his head as Mauriel took notice of his advice, and he cursed inwardly. "Do I?" He smiled, albeit strained. "Perhaps I have. I don't know," shoulders shrugged dismissively. "I mean, I think about a lot of things." His eyes glazed over momentarily, body present but spirit adrift, before he willed himself back to reality, effervescent grin in place to hide the depth of his abyss for a soul. He was just a dreamer, a simple fool with no troubles to weigh him down, on an adventure out of his beautiful desert city. Or so he told himself, and thusly believed. "Like... Why is the sky blue? What is a picture of a thousand words worth?" The brunet paused, brows pulling together as his expression grew firm. "What are chickens thinking?" Such curious, peculiar little birds, with their beady little eyes and fat bodies. They played dumb, but the Eypharian was on to them. Sooner or later, he would figure them out ad expose them.

The Ethaefal pondered over his thoughts quietly, and Haneht watched in fascination as her eyes seemed to flicker with each passing thought, wondering what must be going on in the woman's head right then. Leth was starting, or soon, to give way to Syna, the sky lightening and soon due to exchange its blue tonds for shades of warm pastels as night steadily bled into dawn. Asked if he was to stay for breakfast, the brunet actually considered her offer, thoughtful hum tickling his throat. Mauriel was a child of the night, an Ethaefal of Leth; with Syna's rise, Haneht, with his base knowledge of the fallen creatures of divinity, knew that her current form would fade with the God of the Moon's departure. He should be home by now, should have left as soon as he could, frankly, but the youth felt obligated to remain a little longer. That, and a nagging curiosity got the better of him. The brunet had never known many of their kind, and surprisingly, in the city of Lhavit where Ethaefal were greatly and warmly welcomed, had hardly interacted or seen them up close. They liked to keep to themselves. Mauriel would be the first whose earthbound and Ethaefal forms were known to him. He had already watched her unbinding, witnessed her hair darken into a beautiful shining ebony and face grow full, seen first-hand how a crown of shimmering jade greens would erect from her skull to grace her head like jewel adornments. Now, he waited to watch her shed that ethereal beauty, become more mortal and fall further from perfection, from her beloved Moon God.

The boy exhaled slowly, almost sighing. Amber eyes traced the outlines of the clouds, of Leth's disappearing body. Just a little longer. Rarely was he one to sit and enjoy silence and stillness, willing to think a little more deeply than he preferred. The fog still doesn't retreat, noted the dancer disinterestedly.

Haneht was complicated, sometimes. Most times. He would be lying if he said he didn't derive pleasure from watching others fall, descend a little further from light, purity, anything remotely good. Watch them lose something, like he has, so like the child he had been for many years he could find delight and some form of comfort. It didn't help that people's reactions, instincts, behaviours.. there was something so appealing about dissecting someone's mind and thoughts. Patterns. People could be so different and alike at the same time, predictable and not, understandable and incomprehensible.

Ceasing his inner musings, he flashed Mauriel an easy smile, pulling himself to his feet. "Will you poison me?" He cackled at his own jest, dark humour that was a lot more ironic and morbid than it seemed.

[Mauriel]

Haneht was a performer too, she realized as she observed his somewhat inelegant dance right around her question. Pulled out of her thoughts, it was hard to miss his initial forced smile, though he gradually began leading himself on a journey with her, his musings seemingly becoming interesting to himself as well. Mauriel was downright envious of the expressiveness of his face and the well-placed dramatic pauses in his humorous questions. But the dance was all too familiar for her not to recognize. "Evasive, are we?" she commented, smug grin decorating her face. She was a little too proud of herself for seeing through him. She did not want to tease him excessively however, for she knew pressure to be vulnerable did nothing but drive one further away from it. "If they're wise at all, the chickens are probably thinking that we've been digging at each other's defenses enough for the day." It was an invitation for a truce of sorts, curiosity has been driving both of them to probe each other for a while now, and she was unsure whether she wanted to deal with what she found on the other side if she indeed dug deep enough. Because whatever that was, it almost choked the life out of her today.

Upon getting Haneht's answer to her offer of food, she continued her trip inside, ominously murmuring, loud enough for him to hear, "Why do you think I haven't turned you in?" Not waiting for a response, she went in to start the fire in the hearth to prepare something. She would often just eat foods raw since she hardly ate and it was not worth spending firewood in the Summer, but she happened to have some eggs and Okomo produce that she thought she should spend before they spoiled.

[Mauriel]

While she was working, her form changed yet again, and some of her angst went away with it, though she was unsure whether it was for her carefree preparations rather than reverting to her mortal self. Her hair has transformed as has she, night sky turning to slick mud of the earth after a summer's rain, as if brought down along with her. She continued cooking however, hardly paying any attention to her change except to rebalance herself when her legs were swapped for a tail.

It took a bit for the fire to get hot enough, but she spent the meantime mixing the eggs, some Okomo milk, salt, and basil together. She thought she must have overdone the salt, though she could not taste it until it was ready. She greased her pan with Okomo butter, happy to finally have a chance to use all the kitchenware, silverware, and furniture she bought in case of guests. Pouring the eggs onto the greased pan, she let them fry a bit before adding Okomo cheese and finally folding the omelet. Now that she was in her earthly form, her yearning for moonlight was replaced with a clear tightness in her stomach, indicating hunger. She was sure Han was even worse off right now, as she served him his plate before going on to prepare her own. "Ta-da!" she said enthusiastically, although the meal was probably not worth the introduction. "If it's too salty it's just to conceal the taste of poison, don't worry too much about it."

[Haneht]

80th, Summer 518av

The dreamy expression in his eyes grew murderous at Mauriel's teasing, but he was fortunate to have at least averted his gaze to the ground when he did. Breathe, Haneht reminded himself, and the endearingly goofy smile returned to it's rightful perch on his handsome features. "Bit of a brownnoser aren't you?" he retorted in a similar teasing manner. "Makes one wonder if that's why you're here,"
He murmured to himself. Maybe, maybe Leth got tired of the Ethaefal's annoying prodding and poking, and hence abandoned her the way he did. Erased her memories too, to keep her from being any more of a nuisance. No one liked s person who asked too many questions. In Ahnatep, Mauriel could very well get in trouble for offending the wrong person. They liked their secrets to remain as such, to maintain that perfect mirage that ensured their elitarian society continued to thrive and prosper. In fact, it was like that in many other cities, Haneht was sure.

At least, they could both agree that they had done enough invading for a day. "Hm. Perhaps," he crossed his hands behind his back, following the Ethaefal back into her humble abode. Let sleeping beasts lie, the boy mused, easing tension out of his stiffened shoulders with a deep exhale. "Because I'm good-looking, obviously," the brunet answered quite seriously, before the facade was broken by a playful snicker escaping him. He did think some part of it was true, though.

As Mauriel worked the kitchen, Haneht, though he would've liked to get a few more ticks of rest in, did not allow himself that luxury. Instead, he spent the time exploring every nook and cranny of her cottage, which, given that it was tiny and standard built like his, hadn't taken very long. In the end, he had to settle for staring at her, owlishly blinking every now and then as he waited for her shift to occur. When sunrise came, and Leth finally retreated for the day, shimmering ink melting into an earthly mud-brown and majestic jewel horns disappearing from the circumference of her head. Like the dethroning of a queen. So tragic, and yet freeing, bitter and sweet. With the fading of Leth's influence, Mauriel seemed much lighter, trading the weight of her jade horns for a pair of colourful butterfly wings to traverse the sky with, and her legs for a seal's tail to plow through the waves with. A body that could venture through land, sea and sky. The Akvatari were built for freedom. Seeing her patter about the kitchen, devoted to something else that wasn't a God, Haneht felt this was more befitting of the woman than pining after a lost deity. Perhaps Mauriel's place was really amongst them, after all, and not the divine.

He masked the growling of his stomach with an occasional cough, tight-lipped to prevent the drool pooling in his mouth from escaping at the fragrant scent of food wafting from the stove. Haneht could barely look after himself, let alone cook. Good, homecooked meals like this had been greatly missed, even if the dish was much simpler than the servants cooking he had grown up off. The plate that had been served to him was received graciously, amber eyes shining almost reverently. When had his last meal been? Gods knew. All he could remember was stumbling around and sulking, arguing with Mara, drinking, and all that had gone down yesterday. Time had gone by him in the blink of an eye since his encounter with Mauriel, whereas in the days prior it seemed to pass at a snail's pace.

The omelette was devoured in a heartbeat, given a new home in the depths of his belly and leaving him greatly satisfied and warm. Free food was always welcome, and Haneht quietly thanked whatever gods responsible, for their crossing of paths, and the possible brain damage Mauriel might've suffered in their tumbling around that had led to her being so unwarrantedly kind to him. Mauriel made for a surprisingly decent cook, even if there was a pinch more salt than necessary. "A good meal and a beautiful lady. I would go into Dira's embrace quite blissfully," he exaggerated, dramatic as ever. "Suppose I should leave before they find my corpse here," he laughed, oddly carefree about the topic of death. Well, they were all dying weren't they?

Fishing something from his pockets, he placed the kina Mauriel had entrusted him with on the table, next to the bundle of politics and the likes for her wound that had left the Catholicon with them. "Thank you for the food," he lingered by her door long enough to say.

And then, Haneht was gone.

E N D

[Madeira Dusk]

Grades Awarded!

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request!

Mauriel

Skills

Land Navigation: 1xp
Observation: 5xp
Deduction: 2xp
Weapon- Dagger: 2xp
Endurance: 3xp
Unarmed Combat: 1xp
Persuasion: 1xp
Philosophy: 4xp
Leadership: 3xp
Logic: 2xp
Seduction: 1xp
Planning: 1xp
Socialization: 5xp
Subterfuge: 1xp
Medicine: 1xp
Cooking: 1xp

Lores

Weapon- Dagger: wild slash
Unarmed Combat: tail swipe
Persuasion: pleading for mercy
Endurance: enduring pain
Philosophy: contemplating mortality
Lore of activating Ethaefal gift
Leadership: taking charge
Eypharian Boy: clearly unhinged
Planning: cover story
People: Haneht the Eypharian
Subterfuge: keeping the story straight
Medicine: basic wound care
Lore of Eypharian creation myth
Lore of seeing the good in a murderer
Hanhet: empathizes with guilt
Cooking: omelet recipe

Awards & Retribution
+Bumps and Bruises: the collection of small injuries will heal in 14 days with proper care. The wound on her side will heal fully in 20 days but leave a nasty scar.

Notes
Sorry I took so long to finish! Enjoy your loot. <3

Hanhet

Skills

Endurance: 1xp
Intimidation: 1xp
Observation: 5xp
Logic: 4xp
Unarmed Combat: 2xp
Weapon- Iron Fan: 1xp
Caretaking: 2xp
Deduction: 1xp
Persuasion: 2xp
Philosophy: 5xp
Seduction: 1xp
Socialization: 5xp
Land Navigation: 1xp
Subterfuge: 1xp
Acting: 2xp

Lores

Lore of drowning bad thoughts in liquor
Akvatari: like a Dhani, but not reptilian
Iron Fan: using the blade as a shield
Caretaking: managing wounds on the way to a healer
Lore of witnessing a Ethaefal transition
Persuasion: Puppy Eyes™
Philosophy: questions of self worth
People: Mauriel the Ethaefel
Mauriel: young and naïve
Philosophy: Eypharian propaganda
Subterfuge: keeping the lie straight
Philosophy: ruminating on the lonely life of an Eth
Lethaefal: sustained by moonlight]
Acting: lying like its the truth

Awards & Retribution
+Bumps and Bruises: the collection of small injuries will heal in 14 days with proper care. The cut to his throat will scar permanently.

-Medical Care: -4ki for medical expenses

Notes
Sorry for the nasty delay! Enjoy your loot. <3