A Sea of Faces (Open)

[Malia]

Location: Outer Petals
Timestamp: 77th of Summer, 511 AV


It was quite likely that the Jamoura had no idea what kind of creature was walking among them, staying in their city. Malia wore the usual soap and oil mixture like a coat of scent hugging her frame, the bags under her eyes were concealed with face powder and the black tongue stayed hidden. She had some experience in speaking without showing too much of it. Everyone who saw her would mistake her for a human, pale and skinny without doubt, but still a human. Probably Inarta, judging from the blood red strands of silk hair, although Malia would quickly dissolve such assumptions. Wind Reach was a place of hearsay for her, not one she had visited.

Walking around the Outer Petals, she took her time in observing and inspecting the businesses, shops and apartments. She stayed outside, on the massive wooden platforms. Purchasing was for later. The platforms stretched out and covered a large area, the branches and green leaves above whispered of a timeless illusion. And the Nuit knew how to take her time. Tanroa gifted her with that, after all. Her steps were slow, not hesitant, and her gaze as if cut in stone. It lacked any expression, except neutrality.

The Jamoura stepped out of her way, a gesture speaking of respect. Still, Malia observed that they were wary, throwing glances and quickly looking away, that their muscles tensed a little, subconsciously. They probably smelled what a human nose did not, or saw through her manners. Might be a thing gifted by Caiyha, nature Herself. Nuit were unnatural, not quite dead, not quite living, and Malia would understand if Caiyha was offended.

Still, she walked among them, observing out of dark eyes. A faint red shimmer was in them. She wore her traveling attire, coupled with a black scarf wrapped around her neck. From time to time her hand would wander up and secure the scarf, as if to check that it was still in place. She didn’t do it deliberately, although she did try not to give in to that urge too often.

Everything screamed that she was an abomination, something that didn’t belong ... and Malia accepted and ignored it.

[Wing]

Wing glided into the treetop city, no longer bothering to enter from below. By now most of the Spire's residents were accustomed to seeing the Zith around, so it was unlikely anyone would have a problem with her entering through unconventional means. She was headed for Garth's Rest, where she had a room, but she was in no particular hurry to get there and would often wander the petals before heading home for the day. It felt odd referring to the place as home. Even Din had not been a home to Wing, just a place she happened to be staying, but the Spires was beginning to feel more and more like an actual home to her. Wing landed in the Outer Petals, folding her wings down around her like a cloak, and slowly began to head in the direction of the inn. She paused often to look at this or that, and did not take note of the red-haired girl until they grew near to each other. The bright hair had caught her eye from afar, but was dismissed quickly as not that unusual. It was when she got close that she noticed something was wrong. People said Zith could hear a person's heartbeat. The rumors were true, and Wing heard nothing coming from the woman's chest. She would have passed the woman by with no thought had it not been for that. But Wing was curious. Always curious. As far as she knew people had heartbeats. Without them they would die. So how was this person moving about the Spires as she was? What sort of magic made it so that she did not need a heart? Wing had to know, she had to find out. Nothing in the books she had read so far mentioned anything like it, she had to ask. Turning after the woman, who had likely continued on when Wing said nothing to her, Wing quickly caught up to her and fell into pace next to her. "Excuse me. Hello, I'm Wing. I just had to ask you... how are you alive? Your heart isn't beating." Straight to the point, no tact whatsoever, but that was just how Wing was. At least when she wasn't playing the hypnotist. But she hoped she wouldn't have to resort to that to get her answer. Hopefully the strange woman would just tell her everything. If not, Wing was prepared to work her magic. It had been some time since she had used it though, so she didn't know how well it would turn out if she did.

[carric]

Carric walked through the streets of the Spires, still uncomfortable among the Jamoura after all of his years of life. The Kevlic heard two voices speaking nearby, and his curiosity was piqued, as it always was when he encountered people that he didn't recognize. He'd always had an insatiable curiosity, something that had gotten him into trouble several times during his life. Still, there was no stopping it, and after all, he'd survived, so really, what did it matter? It had just been a simple thing, and no lasting harm had been done.

He walked over to where the two spoke, and noticed that one of them had a pair of wings folded around their body. One part of his brain told him to run, to go back home and forget that he had ever seen the two. But something else made him want to go closer and reveal himself. He stepped out of his hiding place, which wasn't all that convenient anyway, and continued walking until he stood next to the two of them.

"Hello," he said quietly, his eyes moving upwards, off of the ground.

[Malia]

Malia understood that Spires was a place for individuals of every race to mix and mingle. The Jamoura were known to be peaceful, their home a haven of harmony and relaxation under the treetops. People of all races passed her on the platform. Every now and then she even caught a glimpse of birds and other creatures enjoying the green leaves and the light and shadow forming patterns on tree barks.

However, when a cloaked woman appeared at her side, her steps stopped and she turned to inspect the stranger. Her features were of incredible beauty, yet blueish grey fur covered her form, hiding her skin. Eyes and hair like Malia’s, they mirrored her bottomless gaze and blood-red locks. The black thing she had mistaken for a cloak from afar turned out to be some sort of leathery material, not unlike the wings of a large bat.

The name came as sarcasm, Malia first thought, but the Zith didn’t grin or smirk, indicating that she said the truth. And what kind of answer did someone like her expect? Her kind was savage and wild, but she didn’t appear to. Malia felt confusion bubbling inside her chest. Just wing it. “I’m a Nuit, call me Azola. My kind is undead which is why I have no heartbeat and no blood. However, I could say the same, I just have to ask you. Please forgive me if I sound rude... What does a Zith do among the Jamoura?”

Her voice faded, a whisper in the middle of foreign bodies brushing them right and left. If the woman’s senses were as good as Malia supposed they were, she’d have to hear her ichor’s lazy whisper through her veins.

Another person approached them, raising their gaze off the ground and facing the two women. A boy, messy brown hair, nothing unusual. Malia blinked. The pattern of light and shadow, created by the sun shining down from the sky and painting lines around the darkness under the trees, it seemed to be etched on his skin in more vivid colors. When she moved, the pattern remained on his skin. That left two options: Her eyes were getting bad, he was a shapeshifter mage or he was... something else she couldn’t put a finger on.

Either way, he piqued Malia’s curiosity. Looking down at him, she slipped the greeting. “Who are you?” she asked. What are you? Her voice tried to comfort and lure him closer. Just a boy, a young pulser, what could be so intriguing about him?

[Wing]

The Zith regarded the newcomer with curiosity. He appeared to be submissive, yet when he raised his eyes to meet them she saw something else. He had the eyes of a predator, and though his body appeared frail she knew the look. His skin coloration seemed to be designed for camouflage also, although she didn't realize it was more likely due to how the light shined through the trees. Wing had fur, so she was unfamiliar with tanning. However, the boy seemed friendly enough, and so Wing wasn't really concerned. "Hello," Wing responded before turning back to Malia. The undead had asked her a question afterall, and she was pretty sure it would have been rude not to answer. "What does a Zith do among the Jamoura? That is a pretty general question... probably try to eat them. They do look rather tasty, and just one would be enough to feed an entire colony. ..but I'm not like other Zith. As delicious as that sounds, I would rather learn from the Jamoura than eat them. That is what I am here to do, learn. And this is one of the few places that will allow me to do it without trying to kill me." Wing glanced back at the boy, but truly he was uninteresting to her. He was just a human, afterall. Albeit with some unique skin coloration. But Wing did not know all there was to know about humans, so he very well could have been a perfectly normal specimen. She was more interested in the creature that called itself undead. What did that even mean. How could someone be undead? ...Wing was alive, did that make her undead? But then again, she had a heartbeat and the undead did not. So did it mean she was once dead but now she wasn't? "I'm sorry... Azola.. But what does it mean to be un-dead? How can you be... not dead, if you are dead?"

[Malia]

The Zith’s talk about the Jamoura being delicious didn’t disturb Malia. Her features remained as empty as before, a mask like porcelain. Her eyes even seemed to reflect her opponent – or suck them in, deep pools of black.

It seemed like that particular Zith was unlike her cousins. She lacked the thirst for blood and the savage attitude, at least to a certain degree. Of course, her demeanor could use some polishing and she had called the Jamoura tasty. The point was that she controlled her hunger in order to receive something of higher value. A rare outlook among the Zith, that much was sure. Malia remembered previous encounters with Zith, neither had been pleasant, and all of them had included a lot of hiding and covering tracks to escape. A tinge of curiosity sent ripples through the Nuit’s mind. Having managed to come across a special exemplar, she’d be a fool if she didn’t study it closely.

Gesturing ahead, she took one, two steps into the direction she had been walking into before. It was an invitation, her slim hands told. “Please join me in my walk while we converse? Learning is always a good thing to do, you’ve made a clever decision. What do you intend to learn though?” Glancing back at the boy, she figured that he’d follow if he wanted to join the conversation. Being so shy, he appeared to be a difficult study subject.

While walking, she returned to Wing’s question. “Technically Nuit are dead. Our bodies rot which is why we change them from time to time. After a living being dies, a complex Animation ritual can be performed to transform them into a Nuit. Their existence continues, although they have to switch bodies to survive.” Obviously that was the short version of the lecture. Malia didn’t mention the weaknesses that came with a dead body. How one had to avoid salt water, how one feared cuts and wounds because they wouldn’t heal. Wing displayed a friendly attitude – but she was still a stranger and a Zith. Pulsers she had only met moments ago couldn’t be trusted.

Pulsers in general, she remembered.

[Wing]

"Anything," Wing responded, but she realized Azora was probably hoping for a bit more of a conversation. She had invited Wing to walk with her, afterall. "Right now I am learning about Math. I'd also like to learn about other things, and magic. I know a bit of magic, but I'd like to learn others. And I want to learn how to build things, and history, and about the gods, and how to live in other cities. I would like to travel one day, but not for a while. I came all the way from Riverfall in search of a place called Syliras, but instead I found the Spires. I don't plan on leaving any time soon." Wing listened intently to Malia's explanation. It was interesting, though she wasn't familiar with the word Animation. It must be another form of magic though, which intrigued the Zith all the more. She knew the power of her own magic, and could only imagine what other types of magic could do. This "Animation" had the power to give the dead life. Such a feat far out shined anything Wing could do. "I have never been like the other Zith. True, I share many of their passions.. But I did not want to just live out my life hunting and killing and sleeping in caves. Din was no place for me. Being enslaved was the best thing that could have happened to me, because I got to see a world I wouldn't have ever seen in Din. When I escaped and went back there, I realized I could never live with my own kind again." Wing's eyes roamed the canopy of leaves and branches above. She liked this place. Even during the day the sun was not so bad that it hurt thanks to the trees. She certainly did not see herself leaving any time soon. The Spires was just so peaceful compared to everywhere else she had been. Wing tore her eyes from her surroundings and returned her attentions to the Nuit once more. She was one of the strangest things Wing had ever seen. How powerful must this Animation be to keep someone alive after death? "So... what brings you to the Spires?"

[Malia]

Math and magic, Malia could see the connection, although she had never concerned herself with numbers apart from counting her mizas. The fact that the Zith knew about magic, however, attracted her attention. It seemed like this particular pulser was a lot more interesting than the last few exemplars she had met in Spires... even before that, in Avanthal. “What discipline of magic do you practice?” She wanted to ask more, to hear Wing’s opinion on the gods, on the world, but she held the words back. Assaulting her opponent with a flow of questions wouldn’t do any good.

The Zith’s reaction to her explanation regarding the Nuit was nothing but curiosity. Sparks of fascination. She had the attitude of a scholar, Malia observed, being interested in everything and asking questions in a way that could only be called child-like. No signs of blood thirst or animalistic instinct, quite the opposite. How could such a mind wear the fur and wings of the savage race? She was so unlike the typical Zith that it was almost grotesque.

And then she started talking about her experience and Malia found herself paying close attention. Hunting and killing and sleeping in caves... But wasn’t that what Zith did? Malia couldn’t understand. She was an abomination, an existence outside the norm. She should have been human or Jamoura, probably, with her thirst for knowledge ruling over one for raw meat and blood. And the Nuit couldn’t help asking more questions, spoken in her trademark emotionless voice. Seemingly bored. “How, in your opinion, could you grow into something so different from the rest of your race? How do you explain it? I hope I do not sound rude.”

Then she paused to arrange words in her head, let them curl around her thoughts and form the portrait of how she wanted to display herself. “I seek something. You could say knowledge, you could say the solution to a very private problem of mine. It seems like our goals are similar.” She spoke as if it was a mere observation. It probably was.

But for a person like Malia, every step she took and every word she said was infused with a meaning, or the endless search for one. Telling herself again and again that she did the right thing, giving the meaning back to herself countless times only for the next moment to take it from her again.

[Wing]

Wing considered the first of Azora's questions. Once again she was faced with the choice of revealing the exact nature of her abilities. And once again it was after someone had revealed something of themselves to her. As before, Wing decided it would be okay. She was trying to make friends, not enemies, and if Azora was okay with telling her about this "animation" then Wing could reveal her own magic. "It's called Hypnotism," Wing explained, "It makes it possible for me to affect the way people think. It's very useful when people are trying to kill me for being a Zith. But don't worry, if I was using it on you I wouldn't have told you about it. It makes it a lot harder if you know I can do it." To Azora's second question she took her time to respond, wanting to give the best possible answer. It was always difficult for her to explain, even to herself, and so she wanted to make sure to get it right. "Don't mistake me, I am not that different from my own kind, actually. People don't understand us. They think we are nothing but savage beasts.. But all Zith love to learn. All of us are fascinated with the world, more so than many humans I think. I just have more self control than my brothers and sisters. I still hunt, I still eat, I still fly. I just like the civilized world more. Where other Zith are content to live in the wilds, I want to see more. I might never have even known this though if it hadn't been for the Master." Wing sighed and stretched her wings, raising her arms over her head and rolling her shoulders before folding her wings back down around her. Pretending to be clothed could get quite uncomfortable after a while. "The Master taught me about the world. He saw my desire to learn and see.. And with his magic he kept me under control. When I figured out what was happening I wanted to tear his heart out and eat it. But.. I had learned self control. And I realized I could learn even more from him. And from the world. Maybe one day I'll go back and teach my brothers and sisters.. but that's a long way away." The Nuit's last response was a bit cryptic, but Wing paid that detail no heed. If her purpose was a secret then it was hers to keep if she wished. Wing knew about secrets, even if she wasn't the best at keeping them. She knew the secret location of Din, for one, and at least that secret she had never revealed. But the last question, or perhaps it was just a statement, seemed to be a bit of an invitation as well. "Well.. I could help you maybe. I know a bit about the Spires, and I have a friend at the Memorium who knows a lot more than I do. He might be able to help you too."