Hearthside Heart To Heart [Tazrae]

[Alric Lysane]

49th Spring 522 AV – T & T Apartments

More time had passed since his run in with Ionu and the pit fighting adventure, time enough that he had almost fully healed. The only traces left were the scabbed over slashes he had received to his chest, stitches now removed and well on the way to being fully healed. Bruises, tiredness and general fog of shadowed thoughts had largely passed, though at times he still found himself horrified with the remembrance of Vas’ visions. He suspected he would carry that with him for some time to come, his own weaknesses laid bare to him in the starkest and most brutal of ways. Yet he found himself often distracted by Lys and Jade, as well as the various skills he was trying to develop in the long march towards the future.

For most of the morning he had been trying to read the book on poisons that he had found but he had been driven to distraction by the others, eventually asking them to go and find something to do that didn’t involve bothering him whilst trying to learn. You’d have thought it had been a great affront by the way Lys had reacted, though Jade had surprisingly been more conciliatory and had suggested she show him around the Outpost – he knew how important it was that Alric developed as much strength as he could muster, as quickly as he could. Yet, amusingly, once they had left, he had found himself too mentally drained to do much more than light a pipe and stare into the hearth with a small frown of thought.

After a while he had given up on reading and had, instead, spent some time practising the extruding and shaping of his Res, not converting it into anything but just getting used to the many shapes, sizes and practicalities of what he could do when he settled down to start fully developing his magic. He had made some good strides already, yet he new there was more to learn…far much more. Still it had passed the time in a manner that lefty him feeling as if he had achieved something at least, one more small step towards the might that would allow him to destroy Sran’tuka. Things had closed in around him once already this season and he didn’t mean t be caught in the same web twice – the next time he’d be ready to simply bury the shykes under a tonne of rubble…or perhaps some form of quicksand that he had heard about.

“Funny…how I once thought that magic would just solve all my problems, even if it made me evil. Now it’s the opposite…though I suppose life would be boring if it weren’t. What’s life without a little mischief, eh?” he muttered to himself as he repeated the motions with his Res long enough that he began to feel the pull upon his eyelids, his Djed having been used up and his pipe long finished and placed to one side, the pleasant scent still lingering despite its lack of being lit.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep after his practises, he knew that he should have instead eaten his bodyweight in food, yet he had learned at least one thing alongside his trials – that he should stop tearing himself down for being human, and to grasp what good things he could when they were available. Sleep, these days, was less free than he remembered it being and so he simply let himself drift off into the dark oblivion that was restful sleep, sprawled upon the couch with the open book in his lap. His clothing was new – the same colour shirt as the Isuas one that had been destroyed in the pit fight by Iganth’s blade, but instead of a fine wool that was not quite as good a quality as the trousers. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, he was beginning to enjoy not fearing others noticing his mark in the Outpost.

That would be how he would be found, deep in sleep and for once his face not creased into a frown of concern. It was a small pleasure but one which he was thankful for despite the pains of the season.

[Tazrae]

The season was half over and one day had begun to run into the next. Taz ghosted through her life, doing work at the Inn, then roaming Syka and the Jungle Wilds with the Ixam. She moved in time chasing the sun through the sky and the moon through the night. Sometimes she forgot her name and was grateful for the birds that sang it out whenever she filled the feeders in and around The Protea.

She stayed away from people.

People were painful. She’d skipped the second, third, and fourth Tendays for reasons she couldn’t quite remember. She ate when she was hungry, drank when she was thirsty, and slept when she grew tired. Sometimes, as an Ixam she watched the people she loved interact with each other, and worse than that she watched them interact without even seeing her. Randal… her mentor since the very beginning, welcomed her to Syka with a big tip when she placed his favorite pastry and eggs in front of him at one breakfast. Had he known her, he would have known she preferred a grateful smile over a bit of extra coin any day.

She cooked, cleaned, and wandered.

The Protea had once felt like home. But it didn’t any longer… not full up to capacity with strangers. And then finally she didn’t return, not to the inside at least. She stopped by and made sure the chickens had food and water, the cow was staked at a place she could eat and had access to water. She also checked that the snake cages were clean, the reptiles were fed, and the water changed out. That was it.

She missed two days straight of cooking and cleaning and wasn’t even guilty about it. The only thing she missed was clean clothing and a refreshing shower. And after two days in the jungle as an Ixam, it was a simple thing to stop by her camp, grab clean clothes, and slip back to the Protea to use the outdoor shower.

She stood a long time under that sun-warmed rain shower, soaping and rinsing herself multiple times. She washed away the jungle with honeysuckle and vanilla soap. She washed the sticks, mud, and bits of green plant material out of her hair. Then she stood under the water and let it make her feel more human again. When she was done, Taz shut off the flow of water, toweled herself dry, and slipped on a simple yellow Isuas sundress. She made herself wear shoes – a simple pair of sandals - and grabbed her backpack. Then she headed straight for the Dovecote.

At first, she didn’t know where she was going, and later when the destination was clear, she cursed her own feet. They were traitorous things that took her on a straight path, right through to another world. She cut across the main courtyard of The Outpost, took a shortcut through part of the bazaar, then ended up at the wrought iron gate that led to the inner courtyard that housed the T&T.

She paused at the doorway, took a deep breath…. and told herself she needed to see if there was a letter. It’d had been too long. There was no movement past the screens and the apartment had a quiet feel to it. Alric would be at work this time of day. And the girl… Taz had never met her but she didn’t think the girl stayed there. So, she quietly unlocked the door, slipped in, and dropped her backpack quietly on the top of the table. It had fresh fruit in it that she’d gathered earlier in the day so she opened the flap and began to methodically fill a decorative bowl that rested in the center of the table.

Taz inhaled deeply. It smelled so much like Alric here. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she glanced across the main room, her eyes alighting on the letterbox. She kicked off her sandals next to the door, then padded across to the letterbox. She reached out, slid open the box, and glanced inside. It was there, waiting, and she plucked it out… greedy for news. She read the letter once, twice, and sighed softly. She pressed it to her chest then lifted it to her lips and kissed it lightly. Then she refolded it carefully and slide it back into the box into the back bundle of letters already resting there.

She was reaching for more paper when she heard a soft noise behind her. Tazrae froze, then slowly turned around, actually looking at the couch. Alric was there, stretched out, deeply asleep. She hadn’t even thought about anyone being asleep on the couch because the fire wasn’t burning… and she was used to it burning when someone was there. He looked so peaceful, so content stretched out. Her still-traitorous feet were not done with their anarchy at that moment because they walked her around the couch where she gently pushed the coffee table away.

Then she kneeled down beside him, watched him for a few heartbeats, then laid her head on his chest. She closed her eyes at his heartbeat in her ear and reached up to where his hands were resting on his chest and slipped the fingers of her right hand in between the fingers of his right hand, entwining them. It was unfortunate that her hair was still a damp curly riot of untamed locks and that the man would not remember her. She didn’t care, not in that moment, because Taz instinctively knew where home was. And that home was right here.

Words 934

[Alric Lysane]

His dreams had been mixed of late, especially so since his last encounter with the gods. On the one hand the dreams of becoming like Arcadius had vanished, the new name of Sran’tuka being relegated so a lesser concern for now. He had killed a commander and so he felt more at ease than before. No, what dogged his mind in the darker slumbering hours was himself – his own weakness and the visions that Vas had shown him, burned into his mind. There to be replayed when he was least able to resist them and push them back – when he was asleep. It wasn’t all bad though, he also had begun to dream of remembered moments with Lys, new moments with his parents he had presumed were actual memories – if slightly altered perhaps. And dream of a woman he didn’t know but felt connected to, especially so in whatever dream realm existed beyond sleep. It was as he slipped from the happier dream and into the darker ones that they stopped, instead transforming into a soft warm glow like Syna’s rays and there was a pressure upon his chest.

It took a while for him to awaken, lulled into the desire to keep lingering in slumber, but when he did, he blinked himself into consciousness, taking even longer to realise that he wasn’t alone. Strangely he didn’t tighten up in surprise, he had grown used to falling asleep by the fire and Lys often covered him with a pillow, then used him as a pillow. His sleeping companion this time, though, wasn’t Lys he came to realise. Fingers were curled up in his and there was no sense of threat, in fact he felt as if he hadn’t had as good a sleep for the whole season. His mind flickered up a remembrance of a letter and its contents and his left hand gently lifted a chin and a familiar face came into full view – familiar enough from the drawing he had made the season before.

“Beautiful. A better awakening than I’ve had in some time. Tazrae, you came back home…and with damp hair too…I had hoped you would. Speaking of wet hair it’s been too long since I washed mine…sorry. You know you don't have to hurt your knees on the fllor right? You can use the couch too” he said, smiling before brushing some strands of her hair from her face, where they had stuck slightly, leaving it up to her whether she stayed upon the floor.

He didn’t say much else for a time, the fact that she had visited was enough for him, especially given what it probably took to come from the words in her last letter. The fact she had not woken him up, instead opting to simply rest upon him, told him that it was perhaps not time for words yet. He would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best at reading such things, but even he knew that if you woke up with a beautiful woman in silence that you should be happy for that, and probably grateful. So, he said nothing and instead held her in closeness, occasionally stroking her hair. He didn’t really keep track of the time, simply enjoying the moments for as long as they lasted. Eventually, though, he felt it time to break the silence, fi not move lest the spell be broken.

“Lys and Jade are out…somewhere. I was supposed to be trying to learning something but…well it’s been a long season so far. At least my dreams were nice this time,” he spoke aloud softly, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully, “I think it might even have been about you towards the end. I wrote you a letter, but it’s better that you are here yourself. I…read your letter…I was worried about you” he continued slowly.

He spent some time in silence again, thinking back to when he had first read that letter – then had read it several times afterwards to make sure he had gotten in right. Worried was an understatement, but perhaps he had jumped ahead of himself given that she was here and had returned sooner than her claim about last visits had suggested. In truth he had worried she would never return, and so never read his words trying to tell her that she mattered. It had felt almost as if, after clawing his way towards the potential realisation of a future dream it had been taken away – he hadn’t told Lys, hadn’t known what to say.

“A little bird told me that…that you might need some looking after. You have me, for as long as you want,” he said after a while, looking down at her now, not quite sure what to say into the silence, “I suppose I’ll have to apologize to the Ixam when in Syka one day, for dragging you away so often. Then again, I found you first so…finders keepers, I suppose. What have you been doing since your last letter?” he asked tentatively, wondering if she wanted to talk about such things but knowing that eventually he’d have to ask, so better to get it out of the way as a difficult subject, if so.

[Tazrae]

She felt his breathing change slightly and his left-hand move. Taz didn’t want him to wake up. She didn’t want him to come to the full realization that a stranger was snuggled across his chest breathing in his scent and stealing a moment of peace that was a balm on her soul. She’d not remotely been sleeping, kneeling there. It was more meditative than that. It was for her a re-grounding of her tumultuous detached life. Taz had meant to stay away. She really had. But she had needed to see him in a way that was almost physically painful, a pain that hadn’t eased until she’d heard his heartbeat in her ear.

And while Alric didn’t tense, she did, terrified in that moment that anger would greet her presence. When his hand slipped under her chin and tilted her head up, she obediently lifted her head and looked at him with clear bright eyes. Watchful, wary, he could catch a glimpse of something feral in them, and see the shadows of a vertical pupil that was lurking just below the surface of her round human irises. She’d been out in the wilderness alone too long and it wasn’t leaving her unscathed.

But instead of anger, she heard charm and kindness. She heard her name on his lips which caused her own to part in surprise. Taz never was one to hide what she was feeling with expressionless stoic looks. What she thought often crossed her face, and he could see the shock and surprise in her gaze clearly before it was gone. Curiosity and relief replaced the first two emotions as he commented on her hair and then his own. Was this what making conversation had been like between humans? This warmth was what she missed and more than that, what she needed. She reached her own free hand up to touch his scalp, trailing her fingers through his hair. His idea of dirty and her idea of dirty where completely different. If she lay higher on his chest, she would have nuzzled his head and buried her face in that hair he fussed at just to catch his scent more deeply.

The floor wasn’t uncomfortable. Kneeling with her torso on a pillow as good as the one she’d found was no discomfort at all, but she rose anyhow, not sure if what she had been doing was making him uncomfortable instead. He was quiet then, and she took a quick tour of the living area – restless even here. She peaked into the bedroom, the bathroom, and the philtering lab she supposed he must have turned into a room for Lys to make sure no one else was here.

Alric, as if sensing her curiosity, told her where Lys had gone with someone named Jade. He’d mentioned Jade in the letter, but there’d been no true explanation as to what or whom Jade was. “I saw the letter.” She said softly, blinking in surprise at her own voice. It was a little rough with disuse and she seemed surprised at how her voice sounded. Her internal dialog was so different. “I mean I just read it, while you were sleeping. I didn’t… didn’t realize you were here.” She said, glancing at the fireplace and its dark inner maw.

She didn’t explain how she’d assumed no one was home because no fire burned inside its depths. Fires here were silly luxuries anyhow. The Outpost was never really chilly. “Are you okay after everything that happened?” She asked, returning from the small alcove that had the doors to the other chambers leading off of it. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” She said in a soft tight voice.

Her restlessness had brought her back to the couch and she claimed the far end of it where she could see him all at once. There was plenty of room for him to sit up if he wanted too or remain relaxed. Taz glanced at him, pulling forward her mage sight with djed flooding her gaze. He looked good, his energy strong and his aura blazing in its usual depth of color. She hadn’t sensed any injuries - no smells of blood or twinges of pain - but he still might have wounds beneath his clothes. Sitting there she studied him, as if assessing him for wounds and watching his face for hidden pain. “I didn’t think you’d be home. I thought you’d be at work.” She added, as if apologizing for interrupting his sleep. She’d never known him to nap in the middle of the day.

Tazrae’s mannerisms were off and her positive usual light-heartedness was gone. It hadn’t been there really last time they’d met either, at his induction, but likely he would not remember that. She was like a predator in human form sitting watchful across from him, waiting for him to either attack or do something that she needed to react too. “Your magic… is it okay? The Reimancy?” She asked. “I left so quickly… too quickly. But I knew you wouldn’t remember. Did your Res settle? Is your Geomancy solid?” The questions weren’t rapid fire. She just quietly shared her concerns with him, hoping he would answer some of them so she wouldn’t feel so guilty.

“You needed that induction, but it was done so poorly.” Tazrae said softly, her voice apologetic. A true mentor would have stayed and trained him, making sure he knew the fundamentals and that he would not over give or do foolhardy things before he had a good grip on his control. But Taz and Alric had never had the mentor teacher relationship. They’d trained together, equals, and she’d trusted him to honor the Reimancy. His birthright was stronger than hers and he by all rights was going to be a far better mage.

“I showered before I came. I was… dirty. I had not been home in a while. I was… wandering.” She said to answer his question, tripping over the explanations that she had no true descriptions for. It was only fair since she asked him a few of her own. “I was not going to come back, not to here. There are so many people and the bazaar is so crowded. I can not remember why I used to like that so much.” She added, looking down at her ragged fingernails. Naadiya would have been so disappointed in her, with all her talk of creams and grooming and weaving hair into fancy braids. She curled her hands into fists, hiding the nails, and caught Alric’s eye again.

She didn’t try to touch him. Instead, she simply watched him, her words not hiding any of her own truths. “You were here though. I needed just a few chimes to see the place where you were. I needed to make sure you were alright after the Reimancy and check for a letter. I should have come sooner, but I thought it would be better if I didn’t. I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep.” She said again, glancing suddenly at the door and he could read it clearly on her face that she thought this visit was a bad idea. I am a coward. She said quietly after that, in her own mind.

Tazrae was going to make an excuse and head back to the jungle. This was hard, him here, where she couldn’t sit and write a letter and put all her thoughts down for him and explain everything that was in her mind. That would have been so much easier than having to see him. She could tell he knew her name, but she could also tell he really didn’t know her. He wanted too. She could see that easily enough as well.

And she could tell he was making a real effort to be calm and steady and she appreciated that fact. These days she was skittish and had been slowly teaching herself that the easiest way forward was alone both mentally and physically. The Ixam was a good fallback, but they didn’t demand the upkeep that friendships and whatever was between her and Alric did.

He was okay, and that fact soothed something that had been almost violent with its worry inside her. He was whole and seemed healthy and his eyes were clear, bright, and full of his usual steady intelligence. She hadn’t damaged him with an induction that had been like a carriage running him over and leaving him for dead in the street. It hadn’t been her proudest moment. She should have known he would have been fine though. He was probably doing a better job of teaching himself how to be a geomancer than she could. Ironically, she didn’t even have Earth as an element yet.

"Alric." She said softly, saying his name one more time. "It's good to see you." She said, and knew that was the truth of it.

Words: 1410

[Alric Lysane]

It didn’t take long for it to become apparent that Tazrae was, perhaps, not the same Tazrae that his stolen memories might remember in time. He remained silent but was shocked at her eyes, a bright mirror to his own if not for the vertical slit, faintly lurking and reminding him more of Oralie than of another human. It was more than that though. Before there was a flash of surprise, then replaced by something more weighing, he saw a wildness within them that he felt sure he’d had noted down had it been there previously, even if for his own reference and caution. He didn’t move as she reached up to silently toy with his hair, as if exploring it curiously, instead the corners of his lips curled up despite the concern that was beginning to form deep inside.

That concern flickered alive at her actions, almost prowling the apartments as if expecting to find something hidden. He was not sure if it was pure curiosity either, it felt like watching an animal ensure that no dangerous surprises were immediately identifiable before being able to become at ease. She would find nothing, he knew, and so he simply watched her as she prowled, feeling a nudge upon his knuckles, looking down to see twilight, butting his hand until he picked him up, settling himself into a slightly more upright position so the Mussurana could curl around his shoulders as if her just another climbing frame. He winced slightly at her broken, cracking voice when it came, thankful that she had her back to him when it happened, still exploring. He took the opportunity to widen his senses, calling upon his Djed to let her aura come to him – al was all muted colours, washed out almost as if vibrance had been stamped down. She smelled of earth, leaves and…something else he couldn’t place…the other Ixam perhaps. The feel of roughness underneath his fingers…scale? Every so often there was a flash of gold, as if something made her…light up?

“Well I’m glad I got to see you,” he said softly, still watching her and trying to get a sense of where she was, how she was thinking and how she actually was doing, the sound of cracking twigs and brushed leaves faintly at the edge of his hearing, “your company is welcome. Despite it all it feels like it’s been too long…strange given the curse” he repeated the warm greeting, gently and encouragingly as she looked as if she were about to bolt, though why he couldn’t fathom.

He listened in intent silence for a while, watching her as she watched him, letting his magic go for now and feeling twilight move over him, down his ram and instead coming to curl up in front of Tazrae, as if expectant of something. He thought upon her questions and the way she was acting, slowly coming to the conclusion that her last letter may have understated the extent of her lack of contact. She was clearly not used to speaking, her voice cracking until her throat was warmed up, and her body language was wary, as if she expected him to do something, she needed to run from…or attack. Like a coiled spring he could almost feel how she was ready to move, her eyes darting towards the door on occasion and so he relaxed, trying to convey to her physically that he wanted her there and was happy with her presence.

This…is going to be difficult. She isn’t…right…no matter what her abilities way be the divine vision she spoke of wouldn’t have given her it, just to tear her apart and erase what made her deserving in the first place. No, whatever this curse is has taken her gift and turned it against her, warping her sense of self until now…almost more Ixam than human…is that it? he thought to himself, pondering how he might even begin trying to bring her back from the brink of an edge he knew well enough, if not her precise experience.

He chose not to use words straight away, though she was warming to them as the chimes passed she clearly struggled, instead he undid the laces of his shirt and pulled the tops apart, showing off the Zatani tattoo that he had gotten after the events of the 35th – on his left pectoral, just above the heart. He had felt that it was time to begin accepting who, and what, he was – and as such had taken her advice and taken a mark of his own, a sign of a bond that he hoped she might recognise. Around the colour were fresh cuts from the pit fight, healing but still there to be seen.

“I’m fine,” he said softly, looking at her face and trying to read what was there, “nothing physical that a bit of rest might fix. The visions I was shown, though…well some things take time. As for my magic…your gift…well it might be the first magic that I fully accept…the rest would follow. In time” he continued, his hand reaching out, Res extruding and pooling before shaping itself into a ball with floated above his palm for a few moments, shining in the light through the windows. Eventually he shaped it as smoothly as he could into a true orb, imperfections there but it was good enough, before it rippled and changed colour, taking on a shiny black surface that reflected her face back at her for a moment before he let it rest between them upon the couch.

“Why would you think it was done poorly? From what I’ve read you don’t seem as if you would do something that would be a detriment. And the cuts received…scars now…were clean and smooth. Felt like it was decent enough to me…and well…I haven’t gone wrong yet. And if I did it would be my fault, not yours. We’ve learned many magics together, I should know myself enough by now not to step too far” he flashed a grin, knowing that he didn’t always play by the rules but that was his burden, before leaning back, taking up his pipe and setting about preparing and lighting it again…their meeting would require thought and puzzling, he was starting to understand.

He returned to listening and puffing at his corn cob pipe, noting the way she moved and her facial expression, alive and free with no filter. Perhaps she was like that normally, he reasoned, but alongside the suggestions of almost animalistic behaviour he found himself wondering whether on some level the lack of filter denoted a lack of need for one, n time amongst humans at all. Her words upon writing letter sparked something from her previous letter – the lingering of words and their power. She spoke in short sentences, clearly finding convoluted speech somewhat…tiring? Boring? Of perhaps just difficult. Yet she wrote so eloquently despite that…which made him wonder if things might better be served.

To be cursed to being forgotten…a terrible thing for her. I didn’t mind Croix removing the Mortanis but…what would I do if no one knew me? How would that make me feel? Terrified? Lonely? On the edge of insanity and willing to do anything, literally anything, to ease it somehow and feel…important he thought to himself.

“You’ve disturbed nothing. I asked you here in my letter, remember? I want you here, to see you and spend time. Curses will fade and I’d like to look back with memories of…us. I know it’s hard and I might have suggested you not come before…but now…Tazrae you are an innkeeper…and now you don’t feel comfortable around people. And you were charming enough to convince me to do the Reimancy initiation…you didn’t give up…I…I suppose I am worried for you. It sounds like…well…” he sighed softly before puffing away once more and nodding as if to himself, slowly getting up out of his seat, “you came to write a letter yes? And even you wrote last time that you feel that it…is easier for you? So…write me a letter. Or just write how you are, and so on…you always were a good writer. Wrote songs too, I still have the one you gave me. I’ll be quiet and wait, and then I can read it. Then respond. And we can do that as many times as you like if that’s what it takes for you to let me know how you are, really are…and if I can help? Because I think at this point, I’d like to find the gods that inflicted it and tear their heart out” he said, frowning into the middle distance as if imagining completing the vengeful deed.

He retrieved the stacks of parchments, quills and inkwells and placed them upon the table before gently moving it to be in front of her should she choose to use them. He also poured two glasses of Riverfall wine and left one for her if she liked, but he knew he’d need a drink for what was hopefully going to be a productive, and connecting, communication. When she spoke his name, he looked at her from his once more settled position upon the couch, meeting her gaze before edging just a little bit closer, slowly, so that she would not bolt – hopefully – but also silently letting her know that she was welcome to be inside his physical space.

“I agree…as I said…something deep down feels like it’s been too long. Not because years have passed…but because…well it’s like…knowing that you’d like to spend so much time that it’d always feel like too long…like I wrote, I’ve thought of you often. Something is…restless…inside. It knows something is wrong. It’s difficult to put into words...but if you'd rather not write then I'd not complain if you want to use me as a shoulder to lean upon...and talk...about whatever you like” he scratched at his chin thoughtfully before smiling apologetically and sipping his wine, continuing to puff away.

“All I know for certain is that, however complicated my life has become, it wouldn’t be half as good, and I’d not be half as alive, had you not found me that first day. Croiz and Vas’ visit taught me many things, that amongst them I should stop telling myself that I'm not enough, that my life isn't enough. I'm not sure they meant to teach me that, but they did. For being there for me, you will always have my thanks…and my support…and me”

[Tazrae]

Relief was almost a foreign emotion to Tazrae, but she embraced it. His voice held meaning to her, not his words – not exactly – but the rich pitch and tone that identified him solely to her as Alric did. She quietly listened as she roamed until slowly the words sank in and she began to hear his thoughts instead of just hear the music of his deep rumble. Her eyes flicked to his again and she realized he was telling her she was welcome here. She knew that, somehow, though it felt strange. The air was too dry here. Hot and dry were foreign to her, with the smells of desert not jungle. Hot needed to be wet and filled with the scent of life everywhere. That was proper. That was home. This place was filled with smells of Alric and Lys, whom she’d never met except through his memories.

The silence that followed his words was a relief to her. It was a bit hard listening to the individual words. It was a lesson she learned in Syka trying to be around people who simply didn’t know her. Approaching them, their conversations would just drift off and awkward silence would replace their words. It was hard for her to greet them, to find an easy way to slide into a conversation without it being awkward. A distant memory told her that such things used to come easy to her.

The Ixam were far more welcoming. She missed the pictures in her mind, the shared tastes and sounds the Ixam were capable of communicating to each other. It made things easier, conversations more complete, if they communicated that way. Alric’s way was familiar, but harder.

She noted when the Mussurana joined him. The snake felt happy, or at least that’s what he sounded like when she reached out with her djed to augment her ears with hearing instead of pooling djed in her eyes. The snake sounded happy, content, comfortable. There were no pressures on him here that existed in the jungle. He had free reign of the house and went where he willed. The snake, Twilight, had a job and he patrolled his territory with the dedication of a young male just coming into his prime. That pleased Tazrae. Rodents weren’t good for buildings. Snakes were. And Twilight could hear Alric’s djedsong as well and liked warming himself up on the human male’s body. Taz could relate.

Listening to the snake with Auristics lasted a heartbeat or two, for Alric’s own music drowned out almost anything she’d care to look at through no fault of his own. The music of the Nymkarta, Taz thought, was strong bold full-throated. His djed sang to her and distracted her. It was a siren song, not for its power, but for its tones and tempo. She blinked, dismissing the power, letting it fall away like a towel slipping off a body it was encasing.

“I’m glad to see you too.” She said, parroting his words slowly, as if getting a feel for it. The pause was longer this time as if she gathered her thoughts.

“I needed to see you.” How to explain that one? How to convey how much she thought of him. “You come into my mind so often. Sometimes… sometimes I talk to you as though you are there with me. I know you are not, but it is in times I need to feel you close. I hope that is okay. Sometimes I even hear you answer me, but not as if you are standing there. I am not … crazy. My mind calls up of memories of you saying or doing something and it almost becomes a… a response to what I say aloud.” She tried… she really tried to explain.

“I’ve been with creatures that aren’t human. They speak differently… pictures, colors, tastes, sensations… sounds… it’s more complex and at the same time simpler than humans communicate, Alric. It is hard to switch back and forth.” She said softly, opening her mouth as if she’d flick out her tongue, though she didn’t go that far. “They are like Bree. Though Bree doesn’t know me. She pretends to be a wild one among them when I am around. I know she is affected by whatever is happening to us all.” Taz said again, her voice stronger now, making more sense.

She moved fast. One moment she was across the room, the next she was standing before him. Her hand reached out, and she ran the tips of her fingers across the tattoo on his pectoral. Her eyes were wide, pupils slightly dilated, as she took in the vibrant image but she also saw the healing wounds around them. She leaned close and laid her lips on the tattoo, placing a kiss on it softly. “Zatani. We are family.” She said softly, then stepped back, out of his space, returning to her end of the couch. “You are becoming the mage, not just using the magic.” She said thoughtfully, tilting her head in an inhuman way for a moment.

“I don’t like the cuts. From the fight with the Commander?” She asked, taking a deep breath and relaxing a bit more. It wasn’t a question really, just more of a conclusion reached that was asked in a question format. The answer was something she already knew. This conversation wasn’t as hard as she imagined. It was driven by a need for her to know and that made her words come easier.

She watched him make the ball, her eyes aglow with pride. “So smooth. It answers to you quickly, the djed does…” She said, offering him a tentative smile. “I knew it would. You were born to hold power like that in your hand. It will be like breathing for you. There are old stories of mages like you, from before the world tried to die. It’s good that mages are coming again, real ones, not ones that lurk in the shadows afraid of their power. I’ve learned recently that all things have power, djed is in all of us. We learn that when we first learn magic, but …. most people don’t understand it really. But you can feel it, like I do.” Tazrae said softly, watching him carefully, knowing full well how she sounded. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. He’d forget anyhow, all of this, and that was something of a comfort in the moment.

As soon as he put the orb down, she immediately leaned forward and snatched it up. It went into the pocket of her bright dress, forming an odd little bulge off her slim hip. She then reached down the front of her dress and pulled on a chain that was lost in the confines of her hair. A blue crystal hung from it wrapped with wire to form a lovely pendant. It had been nestled against her skin, between her breasts. “You made this first. I carry it… I carry you… with me.” She said softly, letting it fall on the top of her dress, where he could see it. “Syka has a jeweler now. He wrapped it for me. I wouldn’t let him make a hole in it.” She whispered with a soft smile. “You have too many pieces taken out of you already.” She added.

“You made the cuts on us, that day…. I was grateful.” She said dismissively. The cuts weren’t what she was meaning anyhow. “I was not myself during that moment. I didn’t understand how it felt to teach someone else to make Res with your whole body. I loved that, being inside you with my power, showing your power how to be different… how to be more. I loved holding you so close. I should not have liked it that much, but it was you and we are more together somehow at times.” She said, not offering any additional information, not explaining further. She really couldn’t.

“I know you know the limits of power in my mind. But I still worried. My heart is often not reasonable.” She said thoughtfully, then shook her head. “If I stayed and you slept, you would have woken to a stranger. I fear that, not seeing recognition in your eyes. But this time… was different. You don’t know me but you know me. What changed?” She asked, curious. Was it just reading the letters repeatedly that was assisting him? Was it his sketch? The one he’d showed her that was enough like her that she could even recognize her own face in his markings?

He took out the pipe. Gods, that pipe was always her undoing. She relaxed immediately and her tense coiled nervousness at the end of the couch turned into a relaxed recline. She let her eyes drift close and she inhaled deeply. Her glances at the doorway eased and she focused wholly on him when she lifted her lashes again.

“I know you asked in your letter. But I just read it. I just saw it, before you woke. The words coat me like water sometimes. It takes time… to soak in, to hydrate, to understand them.” She said softly. “I wasn’t going to come back. I tried to stay away. Those people who hunt you would like us together. I don’t want to please them. Their ideas aren’t good ones.” She said again, thinking of all the reasons why.

“I came before because I had promised you the induction. I will never break a promise to you. I came today to make sure you were alright. And I wanted to look for a letter. I come here sometimes, to the Outpost. I always come by here. Often there is light and someone is home. I thought no one was home today because there was no light… no fire. I didn’t stop by because I didn’t know before the letter, that you wanted to see me.” Tazrae was getting more articulate by the moment, even if her sentence arrangements were odd and her pattern of speech was slightly off. “Lys is your family now. You have someone. I am so glad of that. And Jade.” She said, though she was unsure of who Jade exactly was.

She watched him rise and tensed immediately. Taz didn’t look for places to flee too, she knew the apartment well enough that wasn’t necessary. But still she watched him cautiously as he gathered supplies and set paper down in front of her on the coffee table. She looked on, curious, the smoke from his pipe still doing its work. Then he explained something, and she didn’t understand at first what he was asking her to do.

Taz picked up the pen and a piece of parchment, turning the pen over and over in her fingers rather than making a motion to uncap an inkwell, dip and write. Instead, the items in her hand just seemed to empower her somehow. “Its easier because your eyes are hard to meet sometimes.” She said carefully. “They distract me and they tell me so much, your face too, about what you are thinking and feeling. I know I see more in your eyes than others do.” She added, not exactly bragging, just knowing it was true. Carefully, she set the paper down, back into the neat little stack he’d made and she rose up and shifted so she wasn’t at the other end of the couch, but beside him, tucked up against him, where she couldn’t see his face and read his expression without turning her head and actively looking at him.

The quill she kept, almost as a crutch of some sort, as if it gave her free reign to speak what she’d write.

“I would write that I was doing okay. Not good. Not bad. But that life is different now.” She said softly, twisting the quill in her hand as if it was actually doing its job instead of just being clutched like a child clinging to an emotional support blanket for comfort when it was blazing hot outside. “The good things are that I’m learning my way around so much better than I ever did before. I am of the jungle, not just someone who can survive the jungle. I fit seamlessly.” She breathed. “Now it is Syka that is a bit foreign to me. The cobblestone path, the buildings, the way people talk like this. It’s all familiar, but in a stranger way than it ever was before.” Taz slowly leaned against him, the tension moving out of her, the more she spoke.

“But there’s such a sense of wrongness to Syka. No one is comfortable there these days. And it is a very comfortable place by its nature. It’s not a physical discomfort. It’s a spiritual one.” Taz knew she sounded crazy. It was crazy. Saying her home felt spiritually devoid was about the wildest thing she could say. “I am a Guardian but there is nothing to fight. I can’t summon a totem to protect us from a feeling.” She added, then shifted, so she was snuggled into his side. She nuzzled under his arm by his heart, rubbing her cheek against the tattoo the cloth of his shirt concealed.

He tumbled words out to fast for her to follow even though she tried to listen. Only part of what he said made sense, but she caught a welcoming uneasy of time passing feeling from him. “Something is wrong.” She agreed. “With me. With Syka. With the people I care about. You don’t feel wrong though. You feel like you.” She offered, thinking that at the very least that was a positive thing. She played with the fabric of his shirt with her lips, inhaling his scent and just relaxing. He’d left it unbuttoned so she eventually nosed it apart until she was against his skin with her lips and tasted him there, a gentle kiss, a lick, then a nibble with her blunt human teeth.

He could feel the moment the last bit of tension left her with a small sigh and she reached out and set the quill down on the table and picked up her wine that he’d poured a bit ago. She lifted her head, sipped at it, and then contemplated the taste of it. “Each time I come here; you have better wine.” She said, as if it was an epiphany, as well as a statement about him as well. Then she set the glass back on the table, and nuzzled at his chest until she had his skin bare against her cheek again.

“I wanted… to be at your side… when you confronted him.” She said slowly. Tazrae was speaking roughly and at a much longer more drawn-out tempo than she had ever used with him before. “I’m sorry I was not.” The Innkeeper whispered, her voice dropping low. “I cannot… imagine how scared… how angry you were. Which… which won out? Fear… or anger?” She asked, her voice sad but curious.

“So much has happened to… you. You deserve a life full of so much more… more than fear and pain and the worry of what tomorrow will be.” She added, lifting her hand up and stroking his chest in a soothing gesture. Her tone was apologetic. “My family has cost your family so much.” Taz added. She was ashamed at it, at how one group could do so many horrible things to another group.

She listened to what he said about Croix and Vas teaching him lessons. “You have always been more … than enough.” She affirmed, licking his chest again, not even noticing she was doing so. Her mind was lost in thoughts. “I think your djed, your power…. has a say in it. I’ve recently learned that it… can have a mind of its own too. That it can have a will power and a stubbornness that matches those that house it. If you are not enough, it will rule you. If you are more than enough, it will work with you.” She said softly, nibbling on him affectionately like one Ixam would nibble on another.

“I am cursed, but I am not dead. I can still see that. You are the equal of your power. You will not …. “ How did she say this… how did she vocalize what she knew? “You will not be ruled by it and it will not rule you. You will work very well together.” She said with conviction.

“I know.” She said softly at his last words. “You are the most precious thing I have.” She said simply and let the silence draw out.

But then, after a few heartbeats… a few chimes, she continued. “I thought this curse was affecting others about me, but leaving me untouched. But that is not the truth of it. It is taking things I hold close and twisting them. I brought the key here, to this place, because I was going to leave it with a letter.” She said, digging the key out of her pocket and setting it on the table. “I wanted to make a gift of it to Lys, so she could call something in this world her own. A home is so important. You know that when you do not have one. With my key… my half… she’d have one.” Tazrae said thoughtfully, then seemed to run out of words. She reached out from her reclining position and picked up the quill again.

It was a crutch, instead of allowing her to walk it allowed her to speak. Alric could see her using it to recapture the part of her brain that involved human communication. She twisted the quill pen in her hand, studying it, before she explained.

“I don’t want this curse to twist you. You have too much twisting you already, Alric.” She grew more eloquent under the quill’s guidance and he realized she was simply speaking aloud what she’d write with the quill had she been composing a letter. “I want to be always that person that helps you, not hurts you like the rest of my bloodkin have. You have so many worries already, please don’t let me be one more. It would hurt me knowing that I was. I can survive this transformation. I can thrive on the path this curse has put me on. But its going to cost me everything. It’s even going to cost me you.” She said, knowing if she accepted it and she went with all the changes that were happening, she’d not remotely recognize herself on the other side of the changes.

“I need you to tell me that it is alright. I need you to help me accept this, because I don’t know how to live a life without you. And if you can’t do that, I need you to help me stop it. Because I’m doing a terrible job of it.” She whispered, staring at the quill still in her hand.

Words: 3177

[Alric Lysane]

“Memories,” he responded thoughtfully, raising his hand and turning it so that his shining Lykata mark would be visible, “aren’t always just in our heads, or hearts. They are part of us, our Djed. My mark, the one from Eyris, allows me to touch objects and…it’s like reading but more how you describe your Ixam communication, perhaps? Flashes of feeling, images of people at times, their vague thoughts or intentions, state of being. I have been exploring it, but it would make sense that if objects can transfer a piece of someone, then people who have spent much time together, sharing themselves, would be…imprinted with part of the other, perhaps? I am no expert, but you don’t sound crazy. Perhaps, when you’ve needed it, whatever parts of me you carry with you have tried to help…that would be a nice thought”

When she moved suddenly, he fought his instinctive reaction enough that he moved for just a fraction of a moment before becoming still once more, not wanting to trigger whatever animal vestiges that seemed to be slowly receding from rising up strong again. As her fingers brushed the tattoo and her lips covered them it was almost impossible not to react, but he managed it with only a slight shiver. For someone he could only remember for however long this meeting had gone on, his body seemed to know the familiar feeling and part of him inside just wanted to drag her to the couch for a proper kiss. When he retreated it left him analysing that contradiction thoughtfully for a few moments before she spoke once more.

“Well if it makes you feel better his head was in the corner of the arena by the end, and his companions didn’t get much cleaner an ending. If I had to get these to make sure an evil man committed no more evil…well it was worth it. But I will try to be more careful from now on” he offered before showing her his Reimancy and seeing the sparkle in her eyes.

He didn’t know what she meant by feeling the Djed all around, though the fact that everything had Djed – was Djed – was a familiar principle that he had learned first, but only come to fully appreciate over time. If there were other levels, other ways, to sense it as she suggested then that was in interesting piece of information that pulled at his curiosity, at his need to know. He let it lay for now, though, his priority ensuring that she was okay, that she hadn’t lost herself completely – for it was becoming apparent that this is what was happening. He wasn’t sure she saw it that way, she seemed to be more instinctual than anything, the way a feline might be as it prowled and reacted to a skittering twig, or piece of twine. When she tilted her head, though, it was more like Twilight, angular and reptilian.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, reaching forwards to pull up the pendant so that he could see it better, smiling at her for the thoughtful use of what he had given her, “perhaps over time you’ll have an entire jewellery box full. Sadly, I’ve yet to be able to make precious gems…I am not sure why. Inexperience, perhaps”

“And there is nothing wrong with wanting to be close to someone. As a mage…well you just have more options to be closer than most can, in some ways. Why feel sorry for something that is as natural as breathing? No one wants to be alone, everyone wants to find that one connection that brightens…so I don’t think that you should feel ashamed of that need. Though I understand why it would be difficult for you to stay. Especially then. But there is nothing to forgive, you can’t help what has been done to you”

“As for what is different now,” he said thoughtfully, leaning back as he puffed away and looking at the ceiling for a time, trying to find the words to explain, “after that first day you came, to do the induction, I have spent every day, every damned day, trying to remember you. At first it seemed so unlikely, that someone so beautiful and good of heart, could want to spend time with me, basically a thief and an odd jobs man by Sunberth standards – a guard for ones of negotiable affection. So I tried everything to force the memories, meditation, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, even a couple of medicinal drugs…but nothing came. Then, instead of the human I turned to the divine – something struck me about memories and the Chavena, as well as my explorations with Eyris’ Lykata…as if both had somehow been given to try to prepare for what might come in this season. I roamed this entire apartment, picking up every item and searching for a sense of you – and you were everywhere. Faint some places – stronger in others. The kitchen is like your own personal armoury and taught me of your organised nature and desire to welcome, and feed, people. The knotwork, the yoga book and other things you’ve spent time with. But the letters showed me who you were. It’s difficult to explain, but I know that I want to know you and the picture tells me what you look like enough that I remember it”

Then came the time for listening, his response to the other things before she grabbed the quill and started toy with it pushed back in priority as she moved closer to him, nestling in beside as the words started to tumble out, quicker and stronger as they continued. He didn’t disturb her, didn’t even really move overly much except to sip wine, puff at his pipe and offer her a more comfortable position, which she accepted more readily than he expected.

Eventually she managed to rest her cheek upon his chest after her physical expressions had passed, and she had set the quill aside, her need for it somehow passed by – a good thing as it meant she wasn’t needing it to continue expressing herself, as he suspected she had for the chimes before, writing into air as if on invisible paper. His face went through many emotions, from sadness and curiosity to anger at the fact things had been ruined in her home and a firmly stony look into the distance for the one he suspected was doing it – not that he could do much about it. As his wine was finished and the glad put to the side his arm curled around her, supporting her in her talking and closeness.

“I was afraid, at first…but by the end I was angry…and then satisfied, I suppose. The whole season feels wrong, and things have been so strange all the time…losing things that clearly mattered and then being kidnapped and offered a bargain…hunters finding me. You have no need to apologize, it isn’t your fault. I’m glad that you can find some…goodness…here with me. But you do have something to fight, you have a fight for Syka on your hands. And I wish I was there to help you with that, as you do for me”

“Your family has cost me nothing, it wasn’t the real Arcadius that did all of this…to anyone. The real Arcadius suffered, then grew tired and gave up the battle against the monster that infested him. If anything, he was ground down, and just wasn’t strong enough. Not everyone can be strong. I hate the shell…but the inside is Sran’tuka…not your grandfather. You are not sullied by such things, so please stop thinking so. I have learned that things are not always as they seem…for you as much as they are for me…games are being played by the divines and their enemies…you cannot be held responsible for that Tazrae, just as I can’t be held responsible for my ancestors…the bad things they did at least. We must…transcend our origins…after a fashion…whilst still honouring their strengths, and weaknesses perhaps”

He continued to listen after his interjection, he had felt he had to say something as she seemed to be leading herself towards conclusions that were not entirely correct, and feeling bad because of them. He had been shown the error of his ways int hat respect, a painfully embarrassing lesson in some ways but a lesson nonetheless, and he would save her the bitterness he had held in his heart unknowingly for it. He said nothing about her licking and nibbling, quite enjoying it but assuming it was her more animalistic side at play, distracted enough to help her form her words better, improving as she went. He didn’t want to put a stop to that, and so accepted it as his body responded in kind, trying to keep his mind on the words at hand. Her words turned somewhat melancholy and she took up the quill once more, his own eyes filled with concern and sorrow that she would not see. He shook his head slightly at her suggestion of accepting her fate, of giving up after a fashion.

“No, Taz, you should not give in and let this curse twist you from who you were, and your purpose. All it would mean is that the one that did this wins, and that you never get to fulfil what you might have achieved before. Keep your key, Lys does not need it as we have already set our eyes upon a future home with you. Maybe not this season, but one day. And you need not fear twisting me. I come from a rough city, and well used to things not going as expected. But I do know that you can never have things good all of the time, have them easy. This is a difficult season, for you especially, but it will not twist me. And I can’t expect life to be perfect, even if I were to still remember you, I’m sure that things would not be perfect. Perfection isn’t the point of things…it’s the effort put in…and not giving up” he said slowly, thumb stroking the skin of her arm as he thought out his response as he said it.

“You might survive the transformation…but would you, truly be you? That is what matters…and from what you’re saying I do not think that you would be.

Don’t let others dictate the terms of your life. I have looked at our list of curses and I think that they are designed to be personal. They seem too specific and narrow to be some generic brush painted over all of you and you get what you get. So James has lost his sense of direction…does he need it for what he does? Or loves? Allergic to Isuas…seems like something pointlessly narrow unless it claws at them directly in ways that cuts to the core of them. I do not know these people as you do, but I think I know you. You thrive off of personal interaction with others…you’re an innkeeper and a caring soul for a reason…it is who you are…and so it has bene taken from you in the cruellest way possible. Do you think it an accident that of all the curses on your list, that you got that one?” he asked gently, trying to see if she followed his words, or could elaborate upon the other names and whether this was a patterns, as his thoughts teased at him that it might be.

“As for who I think is doing it…well my meeting with Croix and Vas told me that the gods are more involved than ever, perhaps, though not directly in many ways. I am not the only piece on their board of games Taz, just one some of them wish to use…or capture…or erase. We came together because of a goddess they thought – Yshul. I was saved by Ionu’s intervention, taught lessons by Vas and given insight by Eyris…they are playing their games, and like an extended family there are sides as yet revealed digging at each other…bickering like children in some ways I imagine…but Rhysol…they told be his spheres…and that he was the reason behind the Valterrian in many ways…he strikes me as the reason behind all this. Sowing chaos and curses in a move to…achieve something…but I don’t know what. But how you fight a god…I do not know”

“I don’t want you to find a way of living without me, even without my memories I know that, and I suspect if I told you otherwise when I did regain them I’d regret that moment for the rest of my days. I want you to fight, to be who you were meant to be…not fall to some devious prick of a god who doesn’t even have the guts to show himself personally. But mostly…selfishly…I want you to win…so that we can be together without this makeshift barrier between us. I already know what I need to know about you, the gods gave me that. Don’t let another one take you away” he did tilt her face up, and around, then so that she could see the truth in his eyes - it was important.

[Tazrae]

He had said a lot to her and had listened even more. There were things that she wanted to say to what he’d said to her, but she held her words until the end, until both of them had said their piece. That was a challenge to her intellect, in so many ways, remembering it all, so she reached up to wrap her hand around the pendant she now wore. “You don’t know me well if you think I need you to make precious gems for me. I don’t even care for cut gemstones. I like these things… much better.” She said, fingering the blue green crystal. It was something she could have plucked from the earth or picked up on the beach and those where the little things she decorated the Inn with and made wind-chimes out of for the amusement of her guests.

“I am always so torn if I am good for you or if I am a weakness to you. I want to be one but am often afraid I am the other.” She said absently, still toying with the necklace. “I had no idea you went to such lengths to remember me. And I had no idea your Lykata allowed you to see.” Tazrae added, tilting her head and dipping it to nuzzle affectionately at the mark on the back of his hand. “I shall have to thank Eyris. If there is a shrine here to Her, I will leave something for Her.” Tazrae said thoughtfully. “And if there is not, it might be time Syka has yet another shrine. It would give me something to do and the people roaming around Syka who don’t remember something to speculate on other than their curses.” She laughed a little, then, and it was a bright vivid sound and in it was a shadow of her old self. “I’ll do that anyhow. Gratitude should be shown.” She affirmed, glancing at her hands, releasing the necklace to look at them.

She said nothing, but building something would keep her human for a few days, maybe longer. Ixam didn’t think about gratitude and cared nothing for the Gods. He was clever, her Alric, sliding tidbits out there as enticements to keep her human mind working. She had never looked to the Goddess of Wisdom, but if the Goddess saw to Alric’s sanity, that was enough for her. “It does seem like it was something offered, your mark, for this… and I wonder for what else it might be there for.” She looked thoughtful. “Gods… if you could but touch things around the Settlement, look past the surface and see the intent like you are speaking of… it would change things. It would answer so many questions. We would, I think, know what is going on in truth rather than just in speculation.” At that thought, the beast in her seemed to retreat further and she brought a leg up and folded an arm around it, so like her usual resting pose. She stopped lipping at his hand and taking in his scent and simply sat with him finally, an intense thoughtful look on her face.

“I’ll have to ask if anyone else has been marked by Her around Syka. There might be someone.” She added, her mind running through the faces she knew and the comments they’d made about whom they looked to or worshiped. “I will find someone. In all of the Settlement, there has to be someone.” She said, determined now to get someone to help her… to listen to her. Oralie? Naadiya? Shade and Shiress? “Alric, you have to tell others. I might not hold onto this long enough to tell someone and if I do they won’t remember I told them.” She said, frustrated. “I could write a letter but how would they even believe it?” She said. “I know why you believe my letters. It’s your heart, your sharp mind, and your Lykata. But others won’t. Don’t you see? If someone started at The Veronica and walked through it… actively using that divine magic….” She whispered. “They could walk the whole Settlement. There are things everyone touches. Surely someone would have left some trace like you are describing. Especially if it is caused by someone and not just a God walking through making mischief. But if a God did that, wouldn’t Eyris’ power also sense that? It would take time… but it could be done, couldn’t it?” She asked, more acute as she thought things through.

“We have a Vas in Syka too. He’s Mathias’ house guest often. I’ve fished with him on Mathias’ deck. He nudged Mathias into giving me the Arcanology Compendium that one day. He’s a rather large man, almost big like an Akalak but he looks human.” She said thoughtfully, frowning at Alric a moment. “I’ve… stopped believing in coincidences in the last few years. Mathias is a priest of someone named Xhyvas.” Taz said softly, thoughtfully. Did Syka have a god living with them routinely? “His friend is named Akvin. He’s there a lot as well. But they’ve been absent this season. I haven’t seen them since before the first.” She furrowed her brow. “Akvin plays the drums in an incredible way. He made me another necklace, the one that lets me breathe in water and gas that is poison.” She said thoughtfully. “Randal gave it to me for my birthday.” She explained to Alric. Glancing down, Taz brushed her forearm that was wrapped around her propped up leg. The hairs on it were standing straight up. Slowly, she looked up and met Alric’s eyes for a long slow moment, a mirid of very human emotions flashing through her gaze. Taz had a terrible poker face. She was far to animated to ever come across stoic or impassive.

“I don’t know who Yshul or Ionu are. I only know of Eyris because of you. And I don’t know who Rhysol is at all. But I do know that humans can have huge impacts on Gods. Look what Galifor did to Ivak to make him loose his mind with grief. Everyone knows that story. I don’t think we can underestimate ourselves at all. And they are sure muddling around in your life, aren’t they? It’s like they are afraid to lose sight of you. And I’ve certainly been marked enough myself.” She said thoughtfully. It was a lot to think about. And truthfully, she hadn’t been doing a lot of that lately.

Reaching up, she rubbed at her temple, then gave him a crooked smile. Then she turned sideways on the couch, her slim figure allowing her to face him while not falling off the seat beside him.

“I do have one complaint about you.” She started out softly, still rubbing her temple. “You make my head hurt sometimes. I’ve been going days and days… since almost the beginning of the season without this kind of thought process ricocheting through my head. And now I feel like there’s too much to think about. It’s almost painful when you have more to worry about than fulfilling basic needs… hunger, thirst, fending off males that want to breed because its Spring.” She said with a chuckle. “I haven’t thought this much, this clearly, like a human in a long time… most of the season in fact.” She admitted, giving credit to his earlier fears about her letters downplaying how bad things had become with her.

“Thank you for that. I… I think this is exactly what I need. You are… exactly what I need.” She admitted softly with a self-depreciating grin.

But then he captured her chin and tilted her head up and she met his gaze with her own. Taz didn’t say anything then, listening to what he said. And truthfully actually hearing him for once. It wasn’t because of fear she withheld her thoughts. It was because of shame, more than anything. She wanted to make sure she was not going to be hurting him by hanging around, but it was so much more than that. She felt a little like a stalker, or a beggar child lurking for a crust of bread to fill her empty stomach. She couldn’t admit to him how many times she’d dropped by to see a light on and smell woodsmoke and know they were both home and how jealous she was of that… of Lys for having him even though she knew there was enough of Alric to go around. Lys deserved better and it wasn’t fair that Taz thought that way. The woman knew that, deeply, but still felt that emotion.. Taz didn’t know Lys, but that was her own fault in so many ways, and Lys deserved the same protection and love Alric did.

And she told herself she would have walked in if she knew the place was empty, just to take in the sight and smell and maybe steal a dirty shirt of his so she could sleep better at night wrapped in his scent. Taz knew Lys needed him as much as Taz did, but Lys didn’t have to struggle to be remembered. She hated the self-pity that infused her with. And she hated how much of a coward she was because she’d just leave and not really understand why.

“Alric.” Tazrae said softly. Then she broke off what she was going to say, blinked hard, and tried again after leaving her eyes closed a moment. His gaze was full of his power, even if she was the only one that could readily see it and understood what she was looking at. And whether he realized it or not, looking him straight in the eye at certain times was difficult, especially when he was strongly expressing an emotion. “You are always in my thoughts. You are always in my heart. I see something or I feel something or even if I discover something… you are the first person I want to share it with… whatever it is. You are a flame that is going to singe my wings eventually. But you are so beautiful to me… you light the night and draw me into your glow.” She said, then lifted her hand up and ran her fingers down his jawline lightly. She traced her thumb across his chin and offered him a smile. Then Taz pulled her hand free of his face slowly and reluctantly, but deliberately breaking the moment, because it was too hard to hold on to for a thousand reasons. A Son of Sunberth and a Daughter of Syka. Time and space still separated them, even if they had managed a small bridge between the two worlds here in The Outpost.

Gods, but it was easier being an Ixam. She didn’t have such worries on four legs. She didn’t have to hurt so much loving a man so hard that she couldn’t be with all the time. She’d completely forgotten that fact, though she truly didn’t mind Alric making her remember. In this case, it was a welcome pain, even though she shoved it aside to be dealt with another time. She had more news; news she hadn’t even thought to tell him before he had somehow brought her a bit back to herself.

Abruptly, Taz jumped to her feet, leaned left, dug into her other pocket – the one not filled with his orb - and pulled something forth. She held a seed in the palm of her hand, just a normal tree seed, something mundane and ordinary and showed it to Alric. “I met a Mulgon from another world. That’s something like a man who wears the shape of a bat, though that is normal for him being from his world. There are a lot of Mulgons there, like there are humans here. He knew a bit about magic, a lot about magic actually, and taught me something new about djed. They have no disciplines where he is from. Djed is manipulated freeform and utilized without the rules we stick too here. We do something like it with Res and forming and shaping it. But it can also be done with Djed too, by feeding something your djed and then pulling its djed from it, like you are making that taffy candy that you work over and over and over again by pulling it and pulling it until it gets longer and stronger and then even longer again. Only the seed doesn’t get longer. It grows.” She held her hand over it and then glanced up at him.

“Look with your magesight.” She said impatiently, meaning his Auristics. Then she held up the seed in her palm like she was offering it to the Gods and ran her free hand in a circle over the seed. Alric could see a thread of her djed slide from her hand and into the seed while at the same time she drew djed from the seed and pulled it with the motion of her hand. He could see a sort of circuit connect between herself and the seed and immediately the thing sprouted and grew, the seed discarded its seed coats, and it sprouted roots and wrapped them around the palm of her hand, as if seeking actual soil. She kept concentrating, pulling at the djed in the now seedling while at the same time feeding it her own power. Before long the seed became a plant… a small tree… and she coaxed it bigger, guiding it with the hand that was feeding it djed. She motioned and motioned until he saw the seedling become an actual tree in the palm of her hand and bend to the impossible shape of growing in a square, making a series of right angles in its trunk as it wove around itself, getting bigger and bigger. She stopped when it was as tall as her torso was long, panting slightly, though smiling in success. The tree had actually grown upwards, made a direct right angle, grew upwards again, then made an abrupt left angle before growing straight up again. It looked like a square formed of three sides with one side left open.

“It’s supposed to work with other things as well, but Zethas… that’s the Mulgon… says that plants are easy to learn on because they tend to grow towards what they eat anyhow… like the sun, water, that sort of thing. So, they will easily grow where I want them to and however big I tell them to get because its in their nature to do that already. I just have to have the djed to back it up… to feed the process. I’m practicing on them. He says when I get good enough, I can grow trees into homes and make plants grow in enough strong shapes to live within them. That house? The one I left you a picture of? I’m going to try making it like this… instead of with a foundation and square flat walls. And get this… I can get two plants to grow together and combine, so long as I combine their djed, and they will make a completely new plant that is something of each of the parents. I haven’t tried it yet, but from what I understand and have learned, its completely doable. And if I keep practicing, I can make entirely new plants just by willing them to function certain ways. I might even be able to take pieces of one plant… like say the piece of djed that makes the thorns on a rose… and combine them with something that’s never had thorns to give it thorns. From what Zethas has told me, the possibilities are endless.” Taz said, looking around oddly.

She was suddenly guilty she had no soil to plant the tree in and that she was just holding bare root stock. Taz grinned sheepishly at Alric and shrugged. “I have no idea what to do with it now. It needs a place to grow, even if it is a square tree.” She added, laughing lightly to herself.

Words: 2684

[Alric Lysane]

“Well, I‘m doing my best piecing together…everything. I’m trying my best,” he smiled faintly, tilting his head in thought, “but no…I didn’t get the sense you were particularly…in need of luxury. Simple things, connections and…lots of feelings. But not gems. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t create them if I could, even if for no other reason than I don’t really get to see them that often on the daily in Sunberth…and who else would a give them to?” the corners of his lips twitched at the obvious answer.

“I know…or at least it makes sense. I feel the same, if we are being honest with each other. Things keep changing so quickly, webs being woven…traps being avoided. I know that, deep down, and especially when my memories return, that I’d want to be that strength for you. But I am afraid that all I will be is a danger. To everyone. You, Lys, whoever else is around me, knows me. I can understand why you retreat to the Ixam, I have often wondered whether it would be easier for me to become a hermit somewhere. At least then I might cause no more potential pain to anyone. But then I remember that doing so just means that what good I can do, for all the bad, would never be done…but the bad may still come. As it came for me in Sunberth” he spoke softly, thoughtfully, even as he continued to enjoy her closeness, feeling her nuzzling of his mark, appreciating the expressiveness.

“I did promise not to lie” he said as he noted her expression, a simple truth and a promise he intended to keep, whatever the outcome.

He listened to her talk about building a shrine, nodding encouragingly and turning it around in his mind as his thumb kept up its rhythm, a soothing stroke upon her arm. It was a good idea, he thought, it might even help her get more back into a human mindset. He doubted that Ixam had a concept, or need, for religion. It seemed a human thing to him, though he had never talked to an animal of course. When she linked the idea of his Lykata with their settlement, and the potential explorations therein, he blinked and internally cursed himself for not thinking of that. It was obvious, yet he hadn’t thought to pass on the tentative conclusions. How many days had been lost that could never be recovered? For having a mark about knowledge and wisdom he was low on both at times.

“Told you that you were smarter than me…or I probably have at some point. You’re right…I’ll have to get the message to Syka somehow. I know they’ll forget you but, perhaps like we do. It feels urgent, like they should know tomorrow, if not today. Perhaps you could take one back with you, and they can hear what has to be said…and probably think me mad for it” he snorted, it would be just his luck. He had tried to figure things out, committed to it, so it would be just his luck that it would go wrong.

Still…I have to try he mused to himself as he continued to listen to her words.

There was a sense of satisfaction, and an easing of tension that had almost been subliminal in nature, as she seemed to return more fully to herself. She wasn’t just responding now, she was creating. Her ideas dripped forth, mirroring his own in many ways, and her sentences became more complex. He was sure it might have been more their connection than his own words, but either way he was glad that it had happened. It showed that she was capable of returning, for all of her feral nature so far in the season, and that filled him with a glow that was indescribable in its depths, coming from an unknown source inside, perhaps even an echo of forgotten things.

“Your ideas are good ones, and I think that it would help to give direction to you all. Even if it couldn’t directly solve it, or point at the source, it might give you a trail to follow. Breadcrumb trails that would provide a start…or many starts. I still think that Rhysol is doing it…but if I’m wrong then Lykata should still pick up something. Something to hope about…which might be more important given what you’ve been telling me. What would be the point of saving Syka if it were forever shattered, after all? No, what was before needs to be restored too, and that takes reasons for people to try to. Hope” he sighed, the problems becoming more complex, but intriguing for that fact.

“I don’t know about your Vas but this,” he said, wriggling his fingers at a space upon the floor before them, just as he had seen Ionu do, concentrating and calling upon the gnosis to provide the illusion of sight, an image of the Vas he had seen from his memory rippling into being before them, he continued for Croix, then Eyris – all as he had seen them – before continuing, “that’s Ionu…or Croix, and Eyris. Ionu’s mark, back of my neck, is all about Illusionism. Eyris is Knowledge and Wisdom, Ionu is illusions and trickery. Rhysol…Evil, Lies, Betrayal and Chaos…and I swear I see the bastard every day in Sunberth when I go to work” he made a sound in the back of his throat and frowned, allowing the illusions to remain until Taz was happy with her study and would then let them vanish.

“And that’s another thing they told me too. Galifor did what he did because of Rhysol. Akvin I don’t know, but maybe one day I’ll meet him. I do seem to be making my way through the list…we both do” he smiled at her, noting how so many emotions has flashed across her face a few moments before and stroking her cheek slightly, happy that he could now see in her eyes there was a more concretely human light. He laughed at her complaint, it was true enough and he admitted it freely. He would have loved to be a simple mean, but that just didn’t seem to be in the cards for him these days.

He wasn’t expecting her to express herself so strongly though, despite the return to such human thoughts that she was getting a headache. His surprised gaze softened as her words continued, slowly being stated as if placing them out for his consideration. He couldn’t help but sense that there was a bittersweet tone to what she said, and the words backed that up as they went from warm and shared to a more maudlin, philosophical statement towards the end.

“I’d rather have singed wings before falling back to earth, than never had the feeling of soaring the skies…I think. It is something that is new to me, as I said I’ve never been one for dreams really…but I am risking myself for the first time in a while…by accepting the one you gave me. It may be ripped from me this very season, and that might wound me deeply…but I’d rather have it for as long as it exists then never had had it. I never used to think that way…I suspect you have much to do with the change. Besides, you never know…we make our own destiny after a fashion, that’s wat the gods showed me. Not because they meant to, but because they wanted me. If they could just dictate my future they wouldn’t bother with the games. So…one day I’ll be in Syka. With Lys. And perhaps you might feel differently about those wings of yours” he finished sofltly.

He tilted his head and would have kissed her forehead had she not almost immediately jumped up and broken the moment quite succinctly. He sighed internally, never having had good timing when it came to such things. Pretty much everyone liked to tell him, so he suspected it would be something that would never change about himself, he couldn’t be perfect after all – far from it indeed.

He complied with her wishes, not wanting to end her clearly excited tones, and let his Djed pour though him until he felt the delightfully familiar hum of the reality beneath the world, settling in and focusing upon the seed, and the area around it. What he was intrigued him at first, but then filled him with awe…before finally leaving him with so much speculation about how it might apply to all other magics that there wasn’t enough time to ask them all, there never would be. The light of her Djed formed a link, then another, and it…moved…a feedback mechanism that grew, and grew, in power – getting quicker, brighter and then when it reached a critical mass seemed to slam through the seed…no the plant…with pulses of Djed. The links remained and simply echoed, pulsing further. There seemed no limit to how such a mechanism could be used to generate power…and that was wondrous…and dangerous.

“Taz,” he breathed, not saying much else once she was finished for a while as he thought through what he had seen, “do you know what you just proved? Unlimited Djed…maybe not now…not with everything…but to create a perpetual loop of Djed and use it too…amazing” he breathed, feeling the pull of curiosity, the need for the knowledge…and the whispers of power. He resisted and settled back into the couch, laughing at her notation that she had nowhere to put the newly grown plant.

“Lucky for you, you know a Geomancer” he said, hand coming out to the side of them and over the floor, Res extruding to form a pot that solidified into granite, followed by a loose heap of soil from a second orb of Res before he let go of his magic completely, pinching his brown with the slight tiredness, “I don’t know much about…planting…so you might be on your own there I’m afraid. Not much call for plants in Sunberth, not like that anyway. If only you could give me one a day I might make at least part of the city nicer, for a while, with my daily visits” he sighed, taking up his wine and finishing it completely before placing the glass back down.

He was about to ask her about the new being she had met when the door opened and in came Lys with a bundle of things in her arms, not seeing Tazrae at first as she went to put it all upon the table, her back to them. He smiled at Tazrae, making a ‘talking’ mime with one hand and counting down from three with his other, nodding just as Lys started to talk and with chuckle.

“I got bored Alric, only so many places Jade can be shown in a day and you shouldn’t sleep all day anyway. Yes, I know you were, you always are these days. When are you going to admit you’re doing too much? I’m going to lock you in here one day…wait…no you’d just pick the lock. Bloody mule. Anyway, we have more food…and I know that you haven’t figured out what those two gems I gave you do, but I found a necklace or two that they might look good on. One’s even an Eyris sym….bol” he finally turned and spotted Tazrae, freezing and her gaze going between them both, finally settling onto Alric’s, becoming far more childlike and filled with emotion than her words before might have suggested.

“Is she?”

“This…is Tazrae. Tazrae, this is Lys. I don’t think you’ve met before, not that we’d remember. But she has very much wanted to meet you. I've had the magic talk with her bu-“

“I don’t like it,” Lys huffed slightly, her chin jutting out as she looked at Alric, “he does too much with it and doesn’t look after himself properly. Don’t got much choice about being…Nymkarta…and magic…but he should stop trying to be so good so quick”

“Lys”

“You know it’s true,” she whined, but she looked at Tazrae once more and forgot her whines almost immediately, stepping forwards to wrap her arms around the innkeeper, rocking them both slightly with the impact of her feelings, “I’m sooo happy to meet you. Your plans were so gorgeous. I was worried he was making you up. Doesn’t know how lucky he is, pretty lady like you hanging around for him”

“Lys” he said with a sigh.

“You smell funny, should have a bath tonight” Lys told him in her ‘teasing’ tone and he threw his hands up, rolled his eyes at Tazrae before pushing himself up to pour another glass whilst they got acquainted with each other.

She has been busy today Nymkarta…she is right. You push harder than most of your ancestors did. They knew dangers you do not Jade pulsed inside his head.

I have little choice. I know you might not care if I blow myself up, but if I want to win this fight then…corners must be cut. There is no other way he thought back with a frown into his wine glass.

Fools say that

Also winners. How is she?

The little one worries. She takes on many burdens for you. You should be more grateful

I am…but I have little to give her until we can leave this place

You are enough, perhaps

I am enver enough

Fool

Gargoyle

He snorted at Jade, meeting the Gasvik’s gaze for a few moments, before turning his attention back tp Tazrae and Lys with a fond smile, they seemed to be alright together, he thought. At least, so far no one had run away from anyone.

[Tazrae]

She tilted her head listening to him as he talked about doing his best piecing things together. Taz wasn’t sure if the sense of her he described made him know her or just know she was familiar, which was why she said something about not needing fancy things. This apartment was far fancier than her dwelling in Syka. She wondered what he’d think of her small tent and the palapa she’d put up to make herself a nice resting place day or night out of the rain. He probably thought she lived someplace fancy in her Inn where she treated her guests like family… but she didn’t. She used to sleep in one of the open rooms, but the Inn was normally full and she’d been staying more and more in her tent on the plot of land south of it.

Taz took a deep breath, reminding herself that once she left in a bit, he would only be left with knowing vaguely who she was and he wouldn’t even remember this time together. Bile rose in her throat at the thought and she hated it, hated the curses, and wanted to tear a hole into whomever or whatever was doing this to the settlement. Her hands curled into claws briefly without shifting and her eyes got a far-off look for a moment.

Who else would he give them to? Lys for one. She saw him every day and what girl that age wouldn’t want pretty gems? And who knows how many friends he had back in Sunberth? Couldn’t something like that be sold? He rarely talked about his life there and just that he had a job as a guard. She didn’t even know what his home looked like nor had he ever described it to her. She knew more about Alric the child and his father and mother and their life than she did about his life in that far off city. At least it was a true city, and not a bunch of cabanas and ranchos on a beach.

Taz glanced around the apartment and wished it felt more like home to her. Once it had that feeling, that draw, but now it felt like rigid walls with no ocean breeze and no scent of green growing things everywhere. It was too dry and too hot without being moist. How was Twilight standing all of this? He wasn’t really a desert species. She suddenly pinged out her senses, utilizing her charm and located Twilight to reassure herself he was doing alright. She should have checked on him first thing, but she’d felt better seeing a few shallow bowls of water on the hearth and by the little foyer leading into the other two rooms. If she looked, Taz suspected she’d find more bowls out in each of the other two rooms. She had some fresh meat for him that she’d lay out before she left. It was strips of monkey, but he’d like it all the same.

Alric was taking good care of him, Taz was certain.

“I know this is not easy on you. I am sorry you are going through this. I cannot imagine how I would feel if people I cared about were dealing with something I could not help them with so far away. It’s not fair, Alric, that we bring our problems to you. You don’t have … what do they say? You don’t have a dog in this fight?” She said softly, not sure she was getting the saying correct. “Maybe it’s a horse in this race.” She said, wrinkling her nose. She never had liked horses, and once she’d become an Ixam she wasn’t sure why anyone did. Reptiles moved so much more nicely than prey animals.

She touched his arm then, gently stroked it, and bowed her head. “Easier isn’t always better. Harder is a lot more rewarding, I’ve found. Easy would have been staying in Riverfall and doing as my ‘mother’ wanted and taking a contract.” She said thoughtfully. “Look at everything I would have missed out on.” It was hardly a fair statement. He probably didn’t remember she was from Riverfall, or that she’d slipped away with nothing but a dream and a promise from a captain that used to know her father that there would be safety on the other end of the boat ride. That felt like ages ago.

“You did promise that.” She nodded in agreement, when he said he promised not to lie. He must have written that down somewhere.

They spoke of shrines and she decided she’d build one for his Eyris. It wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of wisdom in Syka anyhow. The Gods only knew there wasn’t much of that these days. She liked his hand on her arm, stroking it, but knew he would take it no further. Had he invited her to, she’d have climbed completely into his lap just to talk to him, facing him so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her like she always longed for him to do. But Alric was forever keeping himself distant. He’d tolerate her encroaching on his space without complaint, even to the point of letting her sprawl across his chest and sleep. But that was the extent of it. She knew why too… and accepted it. He hated Arcadius too deeply and she was his granddaughter. Taz really couldn’t blame him.

The talk turned to Divine Magic and Tazrae knew she had to stop daydreaming and pay attention. There were clues here and solutions but she didn’t know anyone who looked to Eyris. Maybe Zethas would know… or even Sawtooth. She’d even have to ask Mathias. If anyone knew, he would. He strangely looked at possibilities, so he’d know if it was possible or not.

“I’m not the smartest of us, Alric, and you know it. But that is kind of you to say. I can carry a letter back to them for you, but someone else will need to read it that knows you. They won’t remember me reading it.” She reminded him, furrowing her brow. “Cleon needs to be the one to do it. I don’t think Oralie can read well enough yet to do so, and Naadiya has that oddly pretty accent. She’ll distract everyone with it.” She smiled slightly, almost to herself. Naadiya was beautiful and someone Tazrae admired. She often longed to ask her more about the Benshira, but part of Naadiya was closed off as if there were old wounds there. Taz knew she’d never had babies and that was something important among the tribes. And she’d been married so many times. No wonder the Benshira didn’t like talking about Eyktol.

Taz sighed softly, glanced at Alric, and nodded. “I’ll carry one.” She said again. He was watching her cautiously, like he expected something or was watching for something in her expression. She realized suddenly it was his concern. He had been worried about her and something she had said or done was easing that worry. Tazrae was glad for that. The woman didn’t want to add to his already overflowing plate of worries that he tried balancing daily. She couldn’t imagine how it must have been for him to have letters from someone he didn’t know and a sense of her everywhere because of his gnosis, and no idea what was going on. Taz had been only thinking of herself this season, and turning her back on a great many things having to do with others to focus on herself. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve the problems of a whole settlement halfway across the world from him thrust into his lap with an expectation he solve them. She hadn’t meant it that way, not at all, but she suddenly saw very clearly how it was coming to pass. And she knew acutely that she’d been unfair… very unfair. How many other Sykan’s did he know? Had Oralie come to him for help? He seemed to know Moritz too, though she wasn’t sure who else he might have met living here.

Then he did something strange. With the talk of Vas and Akvin, he wriggled his fingers oddly and produced an image of Vas, a strange man, and a strange woman. There was no picture of Rhysol, but Alric talked about him briefly. She glanced at him, the growl at the back of his throat strange, and then back at the rippling illusion before them.

It was incredible, what he could do. The images were so real she reached out as if to touch them and her hand passed through them.

“Yes, that’s Vas. That’s the man I’ve met and fished with.” She said thoughtfully. “He’s Mathias’ really good friend. But I haven’t seen him around lately. We have some interesting talks at times.” She added, not knowing how to explain fishing at Mathias’ place. It was almost a spiritual experience with a lot of grounding and centering. “It’s a comfortable place to be at times… with those two fishing.” She added, furrowing her brow. “I didn’t know he was a God. “I don’t recognize the others.” She added, certain she’d never seen them before at all.

It was so much to take in. They’d been surrounded by divinity all along and never even realized it. She dipped her head slightly as if nuzzling his hand with her cheek when she felt his fingers touch her skin She raised her eyes, met his, and glanced away first. She was guilty, a lot guilty, that she hadn’t been here when he’d faced all that he’d faced. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” She said softly. “I can’t imagine how … I would have been very frightened.” She added, trying to make him feel better. The longer she sat here, truth be told, the worse she felt… the more guilty. She shouldn’t be here adding weight to his burden. He said he wanted to see her, but what was the cost of that?

He was poetic in his musings… singed wings and soared high. And he said rather a lot about the thing she’d written about her dream and inviting him to dream with her. But she was more and more convinced that he loved his home, his dark city, and she knew he could do so much good there. One day was a long indefinite date in the future. One day she’d be old. One day she’d be dead.

One day it would be the same for him too.

Tazrae had barely marked time as it was this season. She had no idea what date it was, and she only slept when she was tired and ate when she was hungry… and by routine long established dropped by the Inn to take on two legs and cook. She cleaned too, but even that task was growing harder and harder. She’d have wings long before one day, in truth, for no self-respecting Morpher would learn the discipline without learning how to have wings and fly.

That would be her in truth one day, because Zethas had such fun soaring above Cheenga Valley and she wanted very much to join him. So, she said nothing to his musings, only offered him a half-smile acknowledging she’d heard his words. But she didn’t much believe it, not really, because dreams were dreams… and often reality was … this.

She glanced around the apartment again. Two worlds coming together, blending where they probably shouldn’t. The moment was intimate and painful and she dodged away from it with a subject change least she cause a fight or hurt him with careless words. He thought she was human, but at that moment, she knew she was so very far from it.

Gods, she needed to lighten the mood, do something to change Alric suddenly needing to pile all the responsibilities of Syka upon himself and feel responsible for her own problems. Odds are he’d hate the jungle, being so far away from so many people and the sharp crumbling lines of a city that he’d known all his life. She’d talked about her home, but he’d never said much nor asked many questions. Syka was so beautiful to her, so remote,

So, she told him about the magic, what Zethas had shown her, and she would have told him more. There was so much more. She wanted to show him how they could link their djedpools so he could draw from her as well, not leeching, but linking. She wanted to tell him they could be more powerful than Arcadius if they just stood together.

But instead, he made her a pot and she smiled at him and knelt in front of it to deftly plant the newly sprouted tree into the soil he had crafted there. She moved quickly to the kitchen to fill the stewpot with water and then mudded in the soil around the new tree’s roots and carried it to the table where she set it on the long sturdy surface where it would catch beautiful rays of sun during the day. She replaced the stewpot in its place after quickly wiping it dry with a kitchen towel, and then walked back over to Alric.

She opened her mouth to say more, to tell him the rest about the magic, but the door opened and a girl walked in. Taz stiffened, not sure what to do, and instinctually the pupils of her eyes vertically elongated for a moment as she drank in the two new scents. But there was only one person there… the girl.

The other scent was almost like the wind, a spicy mix of the exotic. She’d never smelled anything like it before and she made a quick high noise above the range of the hearing of the pair of humans and concentrated the ultrasound into imaging. She pinged the ultrasound off where the scent was the strongest to get back an image of a great big shape – humanoid – and strong. It almost looked like it had wings, like maybe a harder bigger version of Zethas though it had no Mulgon smell to it.

Was this Jade?

She couldn’t see him, not really, but the sound waves pointed him out to her. She did all this as the teenager let off a string of words to Alric, about boredom and Alric sleeping all day. Had he been that hurt? Was this girl caring for him? Going out, getting him food… making him meals? The girl was pretty, Tazrae decided, as she studied her features. Age meant nothing to her these days. She glanced between them somewhat confused, as Alric made an odd gesture with his hand and Lys… that had to be Lys… trailed off her words… something about an Eyris Symbol.

Taz wanted to bolt immediately. She wasn’t ready for this, not now, feeling more skittish than ever. She would have, too, if whatever had broadcast that ping back at her giving her the image of what was unseen hadn’t been between her and the doorway. She never did like how the only way out of here was through that door or a screened window.

Taz was about to bare her teeth at the invisible creature and risk bolting through it when the girl noticed her and immediately launched into a debate with Alric over the evils of magic.

“… men do that with a lot of things in life.” Taz stammered, at a loss for what to do for a moment.

Then dear Gods the girl was hugging her. Taz wasn’t sure what to do and stiffened slightly then hugged her back. “It’s good to meet you too.” She said, her voice tight, uncertain, as she tossed the curls on her head and wasn’t sure if Lys was going to squeeze the life out of her as a constrictor would. “Alric has told me about you. I’m glad you are here now.” She added, and that much was true.

But the girl spared her little attention, instead of badgering Alric and giving him a hard time. Alric said Lys’ name as a warning and Taz took a step back, extracting herself from the hug calmly. She brushed her hands together, a bit of dirt still on them, and her eyes moved between Alric and Lys. She frowned at the tone Lys took with Alric. He smelled fine. He smelled like Alric should smell. Then Alric got up to pour another glass. Taz backed another step back, watching the pair still unsure.

“You are taller than I thought you would be.” She said lamely, then glanced at the girl. “I wanted to come sooner, and take you shopping for some new clothing. I would have brought you some, but I had no idea what might have fit you.” Human words, polite things, normal things… spilled out of her mouth but she wasn’t feeling them. It was as if someone else was speaking, keeping the conversation casual. “Are you feeling better? He never really said, but I got the impression you haven’t been well.” Better… that was better… more normal, right? Taz felt a bit of sweat trickle down her back and she sent another ultrasound ping to the door where the creature had been standing. It echoed back empty and she scanned the room.

The scent had come straight at her from the door when they’d opened the thing to come in from the courtyard. That’s how Taz had smelled the creature. Now though? She was completely blind to it. Then she caught Alric’s expression and his vacant gaze for a moment as if he was focusing on something internally, and she realized he was her clue. He was looking at something where there was nothing and she pinged her ultrasound again, coming back with the shape she now knew the creature wore. It held very few details, but because it was closer, she could tell it was very large.

Alric was aware of it though. He had to be, looking straight at the form her ultrasound had given up. And so was Lys who was talking almost like there was a third person here as well. Taz had to trust he knew what he was doing. He could probably see the thing, and he made no move to the defensive with it. So Taz backed up again until she was at the chair she secretly called Alric’s and settled into it.

Be normal… For the girl's sake. Be absolutely normal. But the girl was mouthy and Taz couldn’t understand why. Taz was under the impression she was young, vulnerable, and needed Alric’s protection. This girl didn’t seem like any of that. She was also bossy and forward. Taz was curious and had always wondered what Lys was like. So, she watched her, quietly, saying next to nothing, with this thin forced smile on her lips. Taz wasn’t going to grill the girl nor act like she was a friend, though she wanted to be.

They’d only just met.

“Where did you go today? Out into the Open Sky Bazaar or maybe one of the plazas?” She asked carefully – forcefully light – as if she didn’t know what else to say. Did she have a right to even settle down here and get comfortable? Maybe this was Lys’ chair now? “This isn’t your seat, is it?” She asked suddenly, glancing down at where she was half seated/half perched on the wing-backed chair. By the Gods, she was going to mess this up. She heard Alric snort and looked up, but saw nothing of concern in his eyes.

Taz was up on her feet again, not having realized she rose. “It’s really good to meet you Lys.” She said, her voice cracking awkwardly for a moment. No, it wasn’t good to meet her… not now… not like this. She’d have never come had she known they both would have been home… all three of them now? Taz glanced around what felt like a crowded apartment but Alric had his attention on Lys and Tazrae… not on some odd direction.

She felt penned, the walls closing in on her, the windows not open far enough and the door getting closer by the heartbeat. No… that wasn’t the door moving, that was her feet moving her body towards it. Traitorous things. She grabbed her pack off the table next to the newly made pot and spared a moment to touch the tree apologizing for making it and abandoning it all in just a few chimes.

Tazrae turned to make an excuse, to say she had to go… to lie to Alric. But she’d promised never to do that. So, she didn’t say anything. Taz met his gaze for a long moment then she just slipped out the door, pulling it closed behind her. She didn’t leave. Taz couldn’t. Alric was going to send a letter to Syka, and she’d told him she’d take it.

So, she took a few steps to one side and sat her backpack down. Then she herself leaned against the wall in the sun and slide down it until she was propped against the outside wall. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She took a deep breath of the desert air. Better. This was better. She’d wait, and he’d do it… even if it took bells or even overnight. But she’d be out here, where there were fewer people.

Continued in: Beyond Heart To Heart

Words: 3562