The Other One (Jilitse, Stitch)

[Malia]

Malia missed the momentary unbalance in Stitch’s feelings, being too preoccupied with her own questions. She would have to be subtle to get some answers out of him. On the other hand, simply urging him to tell her again and again would do the job too. From past experiences she knew that he usually did what others wanted him to do. At least he did when it came to day-to-day issues, communication and working together. Malia didn’t know how he reacted in extreme situations. She had never experienced any extreme situations with Stitch so far. He had always been the laughing and funny guy next door.

She thought she was sick of that guy. Now she could see through his facade. It was only natural that he opened up so they could adjust to each other! With Malia’s change, she was ready to open up to Stitch, and only to Stitch, a little more, but she expected him to do the same. Should she have started? She didn’t know. But since he didn’t immediately object, she went with the original plan.

It did surprise her that the first thing that came out of his memory was a name. Sadrina: a person he had known in the past. His wife. Malia blinked a little with disbelief and followed. Stitch had been married? She couldn’t really imagine that. Various fairytales from old days came into her mind then, brave knights in shining armor rescuing beautiful maids and kissing them in the moonlight. It sounded like the kind of romantic love Stitch would like. Malia felt how she slowly got accustomed to the other part of Stitch that had been hiding all the time. The Stitch she had known and worked for didn’t know a thing about romance and love. However, the buried part, the real Stitch knew all too well. That was probably the cause for that kind of defense mechanism. Fascinating.

Before she could respond, the door opened and revealed some people standing outside. Malia’s attention shifted with the fake surprise in Stitch’s voice. He tried to avoid the topic. However, Malia actually didn’t insist, not for the time being at least, because she was confronted with something unexpected. Another Nuit ...?

Jilitse.

How could she not remember the Nuit who had taught her Animation? They shared a fascination for that discipline, but Malia also remembered something else. That person had been honest to her and had initiated her into some of Sahova’s secrets, opened her eyes for potential dangers. The meeting with Jilitse had been of useful. Politeness, a coat Malia wore to avoid misunderstandings with others, commanded her to thank the Nuit for what she had done. However, first an explanation was needed. Jilitse was in Syliras? That was new. Jilitse liked children? That was new as well. It seemed that the other Nuit had developed a different personality – or just showed a different side that couldn’t exist in Sahova’s hostile environment.

First she turned to the children, emotionless as ever. “Nice to meet you, Clarissa. Good to see you again, Fentya.” Of course, the words sounded like empty shells, but even the fact that she said them carried a deeper meaning. At least she had put some effort into greeting them, right? Next, she turned to Jilitse, a little relieved as she caught sight of the other Nuit’s meaningful glances. It was a good idea to send the children away. They would talk about serious stuff now, the three of them.

“Jilitse”, she said. The tone would sound vaguely familiar to Jilitse, although the voice was different. “I have changed bodies ... I’m Azola, the Nuit who desired to learn Animation from you. But I’m also Malia.” When had she managed to get so complicated? It almost felt like a joke, really. She had messed up her own thinking, her existence even. It was amusing, kind of, but also alarming. Pushing that thought aside, Malia tried to concentrate on reality. “I must be Azola because someone is searching for me. I came to Sahova to learn, but I came back here to look after him.” Casting a meaningful glance towards Stitch, she folded her hands. “What are you doing here?” Hopefully Jilitse would give her some answers. In a more private and comfortable environment, chances were good that the other Nuit would open up. For some reason, she seemed more at ease. Malia’s memory was as good as ever.

“I believe all of us have a story to tell and I want us to be honest. Friends are honest with each other, right?” The question mark indicated that she left the decision to them. Still, even how she used the word “friends” was meant to stir up emotions.

[Jilitse]

She glanced tenderly towards Malia, eyes furtively resting upon her own Tanroa-blessed orbs. She no longer recognized the other Nuit, and so she searched those familiar eyes and the new face. Their faces were blank canvases, dull emotions. So it was a change of name, Jilitse gave Malia a small smile.

"Sometimes it is necessary for one to change the body, as well as the name." Suspicion lingered, which came first? The name change, the body change, or their meeting in Sahova? Jil did not let on that she was now examining the other Nuit carefully, picking at the words Malia chose. "For my case, although I have changed into many different appearances," the explanation was more for Stitch than for Malia, "there had been no need to change my name." There where moments that her tongue would lace her words with a hint of accent, she knew the ancient tongue, after all. "In the wizard community there could be many reasons for hiding an identity." She let that last line hang for a while, her manner of suggesting that maybe Malia was hiding from someone and not really searching for someone.

She noticed that Malia was sly enough to summarize her reasons for changing her name, and Jilitse applauded the other nuit in her mind for that. Turn the tables before you're seated on the hotseat. Jilitse tried not to look at Stitch when she answered, "I have left Sahova on a mission, ended up here in Syliras. Stitch graciously saved me from a few rude people. Didn't you Stitch?" She threw the ball to the blind man, before it got awkward. There were things that she had not shared with Stitch, private things that she promised to tell him one day. Jil knew that Stitch knew she was hiding something, but the man was far too polite to pry or figure it out by himself. At the very least, he knew she was searching for Priskil. If Malia even tried to doubt the reasons why she was no longer in Sahova, Stitch could back up her half-truths.

Jilitse smiled at their pulser companion. Though he could not see Jil, he could most certainly use his magic eye to notice that Jilitse's aura was now spiked with suspicion. Between the three of them, if was he who held the ice breaker. Malia was an apprentice when she came to Sahova, Jilitse was a mentor to her. There might have been some friendly talk involved, but that was certainly not enough for them to be friends. Stitch had been kind, completely charming, but living under one roof did not mean that you have befriended those within. Malia and Stitch were nothing but acquaintances, Jil thought.

Of course, many times, Jil had thought wrong.

After Stitch managed to clear the heavy air between the three of them, Jilitse inquired, "You have been here before?" She meant in Syliras, not necessarily the Orphanage. "Back in Sahova we did not have the right environment to chat, but yes," Jilitse thoughtfully placed her index finger on her lower lip, "maybe today is a fine day to talk and be honest."

The problem was, who was going to be honest first. Not me, Jilitse decided.

OOCVery cunning, Malia. >;D Stitch, hopefully you could bridge the awkwardness, my Nuit isn't light and bubbly.

[Stitch]

If Stitch had any idea that either Nuit had begun to play a clever game of words with the other... he didn't let on to it. Instead, he stood there, completely and blissfully unaware, a cute little grin on his face as he stared back and forth between them. He had clasped his hands in front of his tall figure, and now rocked back and forth on his heels. He looked as if he was awaiting some word of thanks from the two of them, like a little puppy who thought he had just done a good job. He was beautifully innocent, which was a sharp constrast to both of the Nuit. Long lives filled with secrets, tragedy, schemes, and strategy... He had no place in this world. So, he merely stood there, grinning as the two conversed. As Jilitse let him in on the conversation, he grinned wider, nodding quickly and beamed at Malia. "Yes, this one tried to help her out a little bit. This one thinks he did quite well." It would be painfully obvious that he was trying to impress Malia. Apparently he held a high opinion of the girl. Right after he spoke the words though, he blushed, ducking his head. Apparently the minor amount of bragging had been a little too much for the timid blind man. The conversation went quiet, and that was when Stitch realized something was wrong. Both of the Nuit would see the realization dawning on his features, the soft smile flickering into something of a small frown. His head cocked back and forth between them as he studied them each in turn, once again checking out their Auras. They were both similiar, but there was one major difference in each. Malia was filled with that red taint, coating her Aura as if someone had spilled oil all over it. It practically dripped off of her, bringing to mind a stench of... of... he couldn't place it. Not yet. Not until he studied her deeper, which was something he didn't want to do. He didn't really want to pry. Jilitse would notice that he didn't even seem to notice that the name change Malia had undergone was a bit... suspicious. Instead, there was something else on his mind. He hesitated, then quietly spoke, his voice timid. "Malia... Can this one still... you know, call you... Malia?" He turned to Jilitse next, eyeballing her Aura. He almost instantly noted the suspicion in it, and instantly reacted. It was completely instinctive. It would be a move that changed the whole tempo of the conversation, and actually defined sides for what seemed to be an approching verbal battle. He stepped to Malia's side. It was a defensive move. He didn't know why Jilitse was brimming with suspicion, but he didn't like it. His face took on an almost hurt look, as if he was insulted that Jilitse would hold direct such an emotion at one of his friends. A special friend. One who hadn't just stayed at the Orphanage for a short time, and then quickly left to travel the world. One who had came back. He was obviously trusting of Malia, almost to a fault. How muh did he really know about her? Hopefully enough. It apparently didn't really matter to him. "What kind of story?" His voice was cautious, and his head remained angled toward Jilitse. "Are you two suggesting we simply tell our histories to each other, just to help us get to know each other better? This one... wonders why. It seems sudden, almost? This one has barely had a chance to get to know milady Jilitse..."

[Malia]

Malia observed Jilitse as if they were playing an elaborate mental game. As Nuits, they were definitely skilled at displaying indifference and hiding their emotions and true intentions, but Malia detected a steely quality in the other undead’s voice. Her words contained suspicion too. She questioned Malia’s motive. Of course, to convince someone that she carried no ill will towards them proved to take more than a nice phrase and apparent honesty. “Your assumption is right. I am hiding. I must find someone before they find me. But I know for sure that this person has nothing to do with you and I hope nothing with Sahova as well.” Sahova was what Jilitse cared about, or so it seemed, so Malia tried to make sure that Sahova wasn’t her target.

A mission. Malia couldn’t have used the same word. Her kind of goal was more like a calling, something she had decided for herself. In other words, there had been no choice. Jilitse’s kind of goal, however, seemed to be fueled by other people. Hadn’t she spoken about Zarik Mashaen back in Sahova? No matter the details, the important thing was that Jilitse had something to do, and Malia had as well. Stitch’s position she wasn’t sure about.

When Jilitse spoke about her arrival and included Stitch in the conversation, Malia’s gaze wandered over to the pulser. Pride was in his words, innocent pride and something else ... Malia wasn’t sure whether she recognized that emotion or whether she ignored it instinctively. She didn’t comment, but merely let her gaze linger at Stitch for a while. When he asked about her name, something was stirred up in her. Trying hard to keep the empty expression plastered to her face, she folded her arms in front of her chest to keep them from trembling. “... Yes”, she finally said. “Azola is nothing but a disguise.”

Fixing her eyes on Jilitse again – black eyes with a dark red fire in them and a blue shimmer –, she realized that the other Nuit wouldn’t reveal her secrets unless she got another proof. Somehow, she had to convince Jilitse that she could trust her. Stitch’s question came at the right time. “I will tell you why. I met Jilitse in Sahova and asked her to teach me the basics of Animation. While we worked together so I could create a golem, I noticed things about her behavior.” There she turned back to the other Nuit. “You’re an excellent mage and scholar, but you also have a strong will. I imagine that if you have a goal, you do what is necessary to get there. You know what you want and how to get there. It seems that leaving Sahova has been good for you. The mission you speak of ... Nobody can go on a mission on their own. I have experienced that. What I suggest is forming a triad of some sort, a promise to help one another on their endeavors.” Although she kept her gaze locked with Jilitse’s, she also addressed Stitch. He protected her – the reason didn’t matter. And she knew that he had some secrets as well. So she tried to eliminate the fact that he still didn’t know Jilitse well enough.

With arms still folded, she broke the circle and started wandering around the backyard. “I am ready to begin with my ‘story’ if I get yours in turn. Two hundred years ago, I was born in Karjin ...” There she lingered, waiting for some kind of approval or comment. Really, the stakes weren’t high. Not even for Stitch.

[Jilitse]

Suddenly, she was standing among strangers. What threads bound Jilitse and Stitch and Malia together, for them to talk to each other this moment in time? Jilitse would have simply chosen to excuse herself, apologize for being busy. But she had not really been the sociable guest, and it would be very impolite to turn her back upon, it seemed to her, Stitch's honored guest.

Jilitse silently listened as Azola/Malia fished about her and her reasons for not being in Sahova. Here was Malia, offering some sort of alliance. A good move, if only not at the wrong time. Jilitse would remember the words much later, when it was too late to understand. "Nobody can go on a mission on their own." She remembered Malia's words, sure to haunt her during lonely nights, "A promise to help one another on their endeavors."

As Malia began her story, she lazily moved her eyes to Stitch, watching the blind man. There was very little to tell about what Stitch held in his mind, he was kind to a fault, impossibly generous. That smile plastered on his face would be Jilitse's best memory of Stitch, one that she would hope to see again, especially later, when all that was left was regret and apologies.

She waited for Malia to go through her story, waited for the wind to blow away the awkwardness in between the three of them. She was suddenly curious of this other Nuit, with her own interesting life, interesting family, interesting purpose. As Azola/Malia spoke about herself Jilitse tried to listen intently to her monotonous voice, and so she listened carefully for the messages in between her lines.

"I would have to decline your modest offer Azola," Jilitse called her by the name that she was most familiar with, "my quest is no easier than the burden you carry upon your shoulders. Not that I put less value on your dilemma." She flatly said, "Mine is rather a long story," she lifted her chin and bent her head towards Stitch, "But I would oblige if Stitch would be willing to tell his story next?"

And she asked, with a noted interest that she didn't have when she was listening to Azola/Malia. Mainly because she was thinking that Stitch was the least likely among the three of them, who would lie or omit anything about himself and his past. "Do tell us how Stitch came to be?" Her way of tactfully saying, have you always been blind? "Has he been in Syliras long, and why does he have an affinity for children?"

After they have gone through their stories, Jilitse would give them her version of her story, "As you have known, I am an Animator from Sahova," she beamed a tiny smile at Stitch. She had explained what animation was to Stitch, though Stitch never really understood the start and end of the rope. "Occasionally, the Archwizard would send his apprentices to run errands. I am on one such errand, an important one, if I may add." Stitch would remember about her special, very special books. Maybe his mi'lady Jilitse was doing research? "Other than that I'm seeking out the divine Priskil. I am seeking out this so called Order of Radiance." She had told Stitch before, "I have decided to stop here in the City and study humans, or any other race I could meet, with regards to their deities." So his mi'lady Jilitse is a researcher!

If only Jilitse had more time to figure things out, maybe she wouldn't have lied about herself. Maybe she should have just been immediately honest to Stitch, to Malia. But right now she was far too cautious, even of the man who had accepted her into his home. Who can blame a Nuit who had gone through unspeakable trouble just to start a journey to save the man she loved? Jilitse wasn't accustomed to talking to people, she didn't even know what it meant to have a friend, and as such, the idea of helping one another out, as allies, nonetheless, was out of the question.

She had given her piece, and there was nothing left to discuss about her. Stitch would be able to tell that Jilitse was now on the defensive. Protecting herself, protecting a secret.

[Stitch]

His head hurt. It was as simple as that. That was the only simple thing in this conversation. He focused on that dull throbbing in his skull, and just decided to listen to it instead. Gods, why were the two women so... tactical? It seemed as if they were in a fight with each other, yet using words and phrases as strikes and parries. He had often heard philosphical debates, and those were a whirlwind of hidden meanings that evaded Stitch's simple brain and left him stumbling for understanding... but these two, there wasn't really anything philosphical about this. They were just trying to hide as much as possible without actually telling anything of themselves, while also luring the other one out with deals and bargains. Was it that hard to just tell the darn story and get all of this mess over with? As he looked upon the two Nuits, he would instantly know that it wasn't going to be so. Their-once stoic and apathetic Auras were wrapped tightly around their bodies, various strings of different emotions flexing and curling around each other to form a protective suit of emotional armor. Then, Jilitse turned her attention to Stitch, and the blind man very clearly felt the throb in her Aura. The cunning throb. She had an idea, and it involved him. Shyke. Even as she addressed him, he was desperately trying to refocus on that headache he had, attempting to make it appear as if he was lost within his own little dream world. It was impossible. Even if he didn't want to hear the words she was speaking, even if he didn't want to get involved in this little verbal war that they were campaigning against each other... here he was. Couldn't they have just hugged and gushed about how happy they were to see each other? No, no, Stitch would have been shocked if either of them would have done such a thing. He should have expected as much. "So, wait, milady will agree to milady Malia's request if this one goes first? Or goes third? Did you two actually tell anything about yourselves during that entire little... talk? Or... this one, well, this one knows you told a little... but was it..." Dear gods, they had baffled the poor blind man. Finally, he let out a sigh, and shrugged his shoulders. He spoked quietly, his head flicking back and forth between the two of them. "This one was left on the doors of the Welcome Home when this one was but a baby. This one was raised by the master at the time, who was a man named Taren. This one has spent all of his life within Syliras, except for a few short excursions to the nearby Wildlands. Eventually, Taren passed away because of old age. This one was offered the job for the position of Headmaster of this home at that time. It was a natural choice. This one had been part of this Home all the way up to his then-current age of 20." He had been an orphan for twenty years? He smiled, as if sensing the unasked question. "Children rarely get adopted from this Home. Perhaps you have noticed, milady Jilitse. Have you ever seen anyone come by to even take a look at these poor souls?" He took a deep breath, realizing he had gotten distracted. "This one also fell in love with a woman. A woman named Sadrina. We... married. After a few long years of dating." His head turned to Malia, and she would realize this was a continuation of the story he had told her a bit early. If she would even call those few words a story. Clearing his throat, Stitch forced the words out, trying not to think too hard about the event. He buried the events beneath a lot of layers, and it was hard to sort it all out. Especially after it had been buried so long. "Long story short, she died shortly after we married." Shortly after was a lie. She had died that very same day. "This one also went blind, that day." His words were a whisper, and they would tell that he was quickly closing up again, after forcing himself out of that shell. Grief had filled his words when he had spoke of her death, but he was now quickly approaching a monotone. "This one actually told the story a bit awkwardly. This one married Sadrina when this one was 20. The headmaster of this place died about a season after this one married her. Most of the major turning points in this one's life occured on his 20th year." He paused, and then finally let out a big sigh, a bit of a ragged sob hiccuping through his words. Was he crying? No, he was just trying to hold it back. "There. That is this one's story. Most of it. There are a few details this one isn't really willing to remember, and simply blurt out... just for two women who seem to be twisting this whole entire situation around into one crazy mental scuffle." The frustration in his voice was obvious.

[Malia]

Malia stopped and listened to Jilitse. Still, the other Nuit seemed to be wary, but at least she shared the more obvious and unimportant part of her secret. So, the Archwizard Mashaen had sent her on some kind of quest to do something for him. Piecing together the things she had heard in Sahova, Malia could easily guess what kind of quest that would be. It had to have something to do with Drainira, the golem child Mashaen had built and that had escaped. Drainira was a golem capable of thinking and learning and acting on its own. According to Jilitse’s words, it was highly dangerous and, originally meant for supervising Sahova, now wanted to supervise the entire world.

Malia could put together as much, although she didn’t quite understand what stopping the golem had to do with worshiping Priskil. Was it simply because hope was everything that was left ... because one needed hope to achieve such a difficult task? No, there had to be something else. Malia had nothing left as well; still she had asked Tanroa for help, not Priskil.

Also, Jilitse was interested in gods and goddesses in general. So she didn’t merely focus on Priskil? There were other gods that were also interesting to her? Perhaps Drainira possessed protection from a particular god? Malia would have been able to put the missing links together, had she only had a little more information about the specifics of Drainira and the Mizaharian pantheon. She’d probably find out after one or two days of research at the library. However, at that point she wasn’t really interested anymore. Everything she wanted to know, she had heard and memorized. Jilitse worshiped Priskil and called upon divine support to achieve the task she had been given by Mashaen. Jilitse had also said that she loved Mashaen – back in Sahova, Malia remembered –, so that was the reason why Mashaen’s quest had developed into her quest as well.

The motives were questionable, but at least Malia had an idea about the general direction. She commented: “I seek help from a goddess, too. Actually, I received help from two deities and bear their gnosis marks. I am willing to assist you whenever I can, as long as your goals don’t interfere with mine.” She could be trying to destry Uldr, after all! One never knew! And while Malia hated Uldr passionately, she didn’t wish Him to die because she needed the strength He gave through His gnosis mark.

Jilitse threw the ball to Stitch. Malia turned around, facing him once again. He was so familiar, yet she knew nothing about him! Part of her needed to know, wanted to use him, but the other part just wanted to live in peace, and together. So Malia was frozen, unable to decide between those two temptations. And she listened to Stitch’s words. Adopted as a baby already? It made her wonder who his real parents were. But there probably was no possibility to find out, anyway. Not immediately. And the rest of his story captured her, touched her. Stitch reached out and reached her where nobody else could, where nothing else had touched her for a long, long time. Something inside her was stirred.

Then the woman he had already spoken of was mentioned. Sadrina. They had even married. And then she died? What a strange story ... Malia sensed that there was something he didn’t yet want to talk of. The event after the marriage must have been terrifying, traumatic. Probably that was also the origin of the illness Stitch seemed to suffer from. She remembered his little moments of weakness all too well.

Everything she remembered. Sometimes it was a curse, having the memory of a Nuit. She could only hope that it’d be useful to her.

When Stitch finished, he’d “see” that Malia’s emotions had changed a bit. She looked at him and saw more than she had before. Still, she didn’t know what to do. There were two possibilities, two ways she could go and two extreme sides. Malia was torn.

She had stopped to listen to the others, but now she started walking again. Her steps were slow and thoughtful as if she pieced together the words as she went. “Pah!” The sharp sound was everything she allowed herself to reveal. Frustration. How could she get her point across? “I will be honest. Growing up in Karjin, I was the daughter of a wealthy merchant family. However, my father played with fire and set up a contract with a mysterious stranger who promised to make business even more successful. That was what happened. But then he demanded to have me, a child, as a price for his services. My father refused and left the family, terrified of losing me. Somehow he managed to become a Nuit and transformed me as well. We wandered the world and hid from the mysterious stranger who was also a Nuit and a follower of Rhysol.” Glancing at Jilitse, she continued: “At some point, we got separated. I’m sure you can tell that I want to find and eliminate the one who has done this to us.” Us. She had included her family in the sentence. It still sounded strange ...

Her story was told. Now, the question was what the others would do with that knowledge. “You must be careful. He is probably searching for me. That is also why I use an alias.” She hesitated and paused in her steps, returning to the half-circle of Jilitse and Stitch. “I suggest forming an alliance of sorts. We have different goals, but it seems that we use the same means to get to them. Divine support, right? Helping one another will have advantages for all of us.”

She stopped. It seemed sudden, but then, she was just testing what the others thought of it. Didn’t they see the usefulness of her suggestion? Then they were certainly more stupid than she thought they were. Especially Jilitse, who had studied so diligently in Sahova, should know better.

[Jilitse]

Jilitse's 'long story' was actually summarized in a few words. "It's an honor to hear your histories," she told both of them, "they sound far more adventurous and interesting than mine." It was hard to tell whether that was an insult or compliment. "My life as a Nuit started the day I joined Project Sahova." She gave a slight nod to Malia, "Most Nuits visit the place at one point in their lives, it is an island off the coast of this region. A quaint quiet place where the Citadel has been standing for the last half-millenia." There was a streak of fierce pride in her voice. "Some of you may have heard the story," and this she directed at Malia, "hundreds of Nuits, most, if not all, of them mages, gathered together in the purpose of research. It's the last stand of Alahea." She droned on, and continued talking more about Sahova, and less about herself, "We've stayed in our shelters when the Valterrian hit the world, but before that, and even after, there was always war. War never really ended for us, and to my opinion, it hasn't really changed the way things are."

She glanced at Stitch, "We are trying to win back what Alahea lost. The operative term here is trying, and we're nowhere near the grandeur of magic and technology back in the ancient days." She continued, telling them more about Sahova than herself, "I served as an apprentice in the island, continuously developing golems. These animated objects are a part of Sahova's income, though we mages don't really get paid. How do I put it, well, it's voluntary work. Always working, with nothing in return." She opened her mouth in a smile, "Sahovans are people with a lost cause. We might rebuild the empire, we could given the right time and opportunity," though both were impossible at the rate things were going, "There's nothing more to it than that and that alone."

"I have been living a mundane life for the last few centuries, there was so much work to do before the Valterrian launched the world in disrepair. And right after the cataclysm, the things we needed to do tripled, quadrupled. So much work to do, always working. That is who I am, I guess. Your typical repetitive Nuit." Of course, she told more about Sahova than herself, but it didn't really matter. Maybe it was the part of her that was too calculating and logical, suspicious of chance visits and unbending to serendipity.

She merely smiled at Stitch when he let out a few frustrated words, though she was keen enough to hold back and not affirm the blind man's complaints. Was this a mental scuffle for the pulser? Her attention was drawn to Malia when the other Nuit spoke, listening with malice. Honest. Somehow the word honest was an irony in the other Nuit's lips.

She didn't let on, but continued to parry Malia's offer. Not that she didn't consider it, but the opportunity just didn't present itself at the right time. "You bear gnosis marks?" Jilitse asked, tipping her head to one side, eyeing Malia with curiosity. "Two. From whom?" She wondered. "And why?" Gods didn't mark random people with their gifts. Whatever gnosis Malia bore, it certainly added a deeper hole into her "questionable" person.

"Your offer of assistance is welcomed, appreciated. But I cannot help but to wonder," Jilitse continued to doubt the other nuit, "why you would offer such a tempting alliance at this hour of the day. It's so early in the morning." Jilitse folded her arms, fingers brushing her skin delicately. She looked at Stitch, wondering whether the man would pick up on her chiding. "You are right, Azola. Malia." Jil shrugged, whatever your-name-is, lifted a hand and waved it about, "We have different goals. But don't you think it is rather brazen to think that we are using the same means to get them done." There was a noticeable change in Malia, as if she had been transformed. Jilitse remembered her as meek, almost shy. She was never straightforward. Where did the Nuit's aggressiveness come from? Or had Malia been hiding her secrets all this time? "I'm sorry if I don't share the same intimacy with any god or goddess." And though it was said nonchalantly, it was true, "I have lived far too long without the need to pray mercilessly to any deity. I have always considered myself out of their spheres of influence. Part of me wishes for it to stay that way. I guess it would come along with being a pickled mage in Sahova."

She listened to her companions opinions before continuing her argument, "I just don't see the advantage in getting involve with other people's business." Not yet. "Your tale sounds very complicated, and there's already more than one deity involved." She thought not about what's in it for her, but rather what's not in it for her. It would take her away from her path, and at worst, might make her take an off-tangent road. It wasn't something she could afford at the moment. She needed to focus, get her lines straight. At the very least, Jilitse's suspicions against Malia were now diminishing, slowly laced with curiosity and an I-don't-care attitude. "And I'm a very busy Nuit, with lots of work to do." It would take more than simple convincing to persuade Jilitse.

"What are your thoughts about this Stitch? I don't really see you doing anything else other than tending the Welcome Home." The Orphanage was his life, and his every day evolved around it. "Malia's case sounds like an adventure to me."

[Stitch]

Enough. He was done being the only one who was lost. Djed swirled from his soul, and he gulped it in as if it was water in a desert, using it to power the main purpose of his Auristics. He took both of their Auras in, gently caressed them with his mind, and then quickly focused. They were two grey clouds of little to no emotion, but at the moment, little sparks of lightning were turning those grey clouds into darkening storm clouds. He could read that lightning, and use it to his advantage. If they wanted to run circles around each other with all kinds of wheeling and dealing... well, he would do the same. Or maybe they were just talking to each other, and he was just a simpleton. Either way, he needed help raising himself to their level. He focused and became intimate with their Auras, reading past the clouds to study the storm. He focused on the sparks of emotion running through their usually emotionless Auras, to help him understand what they were feeling, and to diminish his confusion. The two Nuits would likely notice his sudden concentration, along with the quiet that accompanied it. His forehead was bulging with veins too, showing that there was a bit of stressful mental work going on. Stitch was actually starting to use his brain? Oh my! He looked closer, melding his mind with their Auras in something of an intimate fashion. Nuits were storm clouds of apathy. Emotions sparked through them like lightning, incredibly obvious against such a stark background. Malia... she was different. She was violently swirling with tightly contained emotions that she dared not admit to herself, and especially not Stitch, who was trying to stare from the outside in. They were so deeply buried within her dark storm clouds that he couldn't actually get a reading on them. They were... different. Briefly, he was concerned for her. Was it something he should worry about? He bit his lower lip in concentration, unsure of what to do. Perhaps it would be best to just leave her with her bottle of emotions, for now. If she was trying to hide it, he could respect that. He was already invading anyway. Jilitse was filled with suspicion and something that tasted like annoyance... but she was quickly growing accustomed to the conversation, and almost... bored. Or she didn't care anymore. Perhaps she thought she had the upper hand, perhaps she thought she had learned all she needed to know... or perhaps she was just confident she had won the verbal sparring that Stitch felt they were having. Their words were heard by his concentrating self, as somehow, watching their Auras only seemed to help him remember their words even better. Perhaps there was some kind of interaction with the Auras and his senses, and all the words being spoken. He didn't know. He just felt as if he was too stupid to comprehend their conversation without the use of magic. How sad. Suddenly his head snapped up, and he quickly spoke, in a coy and playful tone. "This one thinks you say one thing, yet mean another." Stitch smiled brightly at the Nuit, beaming once again, his earlier confusion gone. He was switching personalities quite quickly, from happy and bright, back to confused and distressed, back to happy and bright. He had regained his confidence through use of a magic most intimate to him. He quickly continued on, still grinning at the cold-hearted Nuit. "Milady told me she came here in search of Priskil and her... Order of Radiance? Milady's story held no mention of that. This one dares suspect that milady entirely dodged the whole purpose of telling our stories in an attempt to decieve us. What are the events that led milady to this current point? This one did hide things, but at least this one admitted to it. And here Malia is, attempting to make nice with you." Stitch chuckled, his grin turning to Malia next. "Milady Jilitse actually told this one that she had come to Syliras in order to better understand the races that live here... and to eventually meet Priskil, and her Order, and find allies... Allies. This one dares suggest that that is what Lady Malia just offered!" He turned back to Jilitse, and focused on her once more. Stitch's smile flickered, and then it faded, into more of a serious look. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and steeled. Both of the women would remember the tone. It was the tone he used when speaking to the children. "Allies or not, you two can determine that. But this one would suggest that the two of you stop your little verbal games. Especially you, Jilitse. We agreed to be honest with each other... and hiding the truth is dishonest. You can admit to it if you don't want to share everything... but sharing just a little bit, to lure out another little bit? It isn't fair to any of the parties involved, and it will not happen again. This one is just an Orphanage owner, but the two of you are standing in that very Orphanage. You will be respectful to this house, to this one, and to each other. Genuinely. If not, you can go right up to bed." He had just scolded them both like children. "This one does not plan on moving from here, no. Not in the near future. This one has family... and friends-" A quick glance at Malia. "-who he appreciates very much. This one is very happy here. This one is happy to help however he can, though. Like offering free room and board." Oh, he was smiling again. Playfully. He had just played his coy little trump card.

[Malia]

Malia stood perfectly still while she was listening to Jilitse’s comments. She had tried to lure the other Nuit into helping her, or at least being interested in her story and her success, but her carefully crafted speech seemed to have had the opposite impact. Through her words and gestures, Jilitse obviously was backing away from her.

The story that was supposed to be her past life started as a history of Sahova and concluded with mundane facts that weren’t really useful. So she had done nothing except work in Sahova. For five hundred years. Although Malia couldn’t be sure how the other Nuit functioned, since everything about Sahova felt a little tense and unnatural to her, removed from the outside world, she supposed it was very unlikely that Jilitse had done and accomplished nothing at all during such a long period of time. After all, she was a decent Animator. And she had managed to come pretty close to the Archwizard, although Sahova forced everyone to take sides sooner or later. No, there was something else to Jilitse’s story that included the aforementioned bits about seeking the Order of Radiance and finding Drainira. But that was about everything she had shared about herself. Which was nothing of significance.

When Jilitse asked about her gnosis marks, Malia merely shrugged, mimicking the other Nuit’s behavior. “Why are you convinced that Priskil will help you with whatever you plan to do with Her favor? Mortals do not know anything about divine plans. Two gods agreed to help me achieve my goal and that is all that matters.” What would Jilitse have thought if she found out that the signs of Malia’s contracts with Tanroa and Uldr were right in front of her eyes? The dark red shimmer in her eyes, the blue circles around her irises... and the mark at the side of her neck, covered by red locks, tingled as she thought of its creator. However, the connection to those two was Malia’s greatest weapon at that time, and she wasn’t going to give it away to random people.

“Early in the morning?” she repeated, and her voice almost had an amused sound to it. Of course, being ridiculous had to be the next level. “I prefer to make proposals early in the morning instead of late at night when everyone is sleeping.” She was making a reference to pulsers, naturally, to further continue the pointless word war. Then she listened. So Jilitse did not know how to pray. But still she wanted to find Priskil? It seemed that her mission only consisted of loose ends that she hadn’t yet managed to tie together. It was a fact Malia would probably be able to use in that little argument. The word war wasn’t over, not yet anyway.

“How do you plan to find Priskil and Her order, if you do not know how to attract Her attention? I can offer knowledge about the gods and how to interact with them, coming from experience and education I have received.” She took a step towards Jilitse to emphasize her point, although her voice stayed as flat as ever. “To gain a god’s favor, you must either be very devout, or very clever. I can help you.” Thinking back to her meeting with Uldr, she implied that some gods were prone to bargaining. She didn’t know about Priskil, but still she had learned that gods desired to achieve something as well.

And Jilitse, the Nuit who had been without any divine influence for a long time, didn’t know a bit about them. It really was ridiculous. The more she heard, the more Malia considered Jilitse to be utterly and totally stupid. She lacked the knowledge, the attitude...

Slowly, but surely, Malia started to retreat though. And when Stitch spoke up, she was almost sure that for the time being the Nuit refused to hear what Malia tried to tell her. She misinterpreted intentions and words. It seemed that no good would come of that. So she fell silent and listened to Stitch’s sermon.

The scolding didn’t have much of an impact on her, other than that she was slightly intrigued by his change of demeanor. At first sight Stitch really appeared to be the friendly and caring child person, but the more she was around him, the more sides she got to know of him. Sometimes he managed to surprise her, and sometimes meant far more often than other pulsers. Still, when he was finished, she didn’t flinch, merely looked indifferent. “I see, we have not been nice to you.” Then she turned back to Jilitse one more time. “I will not force you to cooperate.”

Whether that was a threat or not was actually hard to tell, but Malia meant what she said. She wouldn’t use force, not the kind that was obvious, anyway. However, she understood far better than the other Nuit what united them. So she was almost sure that they’d cross paths again, just like they had now.