By Dawns Early Light (Emeric)

[Haeli]

Timestamp: 25th of Summer, 511 AV
Purpose: Social
Status: Closed, Emeric Please

She left with the first light, closing the door quietly and walking out onto the street. She was dressed in a loose pair of trousers, a tunic without sleeves, belted at the hips, and completely barefooted. Her long honey-colored hair was loose, ignored, unlike most of the strict Lhavitian ladies. Today would be a gathering day for her, exploring the city and its rich fauna, looking to see what the plants could offer that she collected.

Haeli slung a small backpack on her back and set out in a slow casual stroll from All Things Wild down the main street towards the square. As she went, she meandered without purpose, investigating her way from one tree to another, from one growing strand of plants or flowers to another. Some she took cuttings off of, using a slim knife at her belt and wrapping them in strips of cloth she damped from a waterskin slung over her shoulder as well. Others she just took samples of berries or flowers from, sniffed and collected, or pulled out a small journal and made notes in awkwardly uncapping a tiny bottle of ink and a quill pen while making a sketch or tucking a leaf, stem, and flower example into her notes.

She wasn't particularly paying attention to where she was going nor did she seem to care who watched her. Samples came from flowerpots, decorated lawns, even street side plantings. She took a careful look at naturally occurring plants along pathways and streets, and didn't even overlook weeds popping through cobblestones - taking samples and making notes on each. She was in love with the city, its beauty, and its fauna. Haeli wanted to know it better, understand what it could do, and use it to further her business... especially scents and colors which were the safest and first things to explore in a strange new region.

The truth was she was missing her swamp, the one-ness she felt with the region, and how well she knew the land. Lhavit would take longer to learn, and be harder to interpret since it wasn't a wild place but rather a place tamed and sculpted by men. But she was trying, and that was the important first step in settling down. She'd never really 'fit in' but Haeli was fine with that. She was what she was and that person was definitely not a sculpted woman of class, rank, and wealth.

[Emeric]

Once again Emeric found himself awake just as the city settled into its early morning slumber, not yet adjusted to the cities nocturnal society. That wasn’t to say the city was entirely empty, as he padded through the streets there was always the murmur of guards, the hushed discussions of non-Lhavitians in any of the elegant courtyards, and even some Lhavitian’s who had business to conduct at night. Those who made eye contact with him were wary of the unkempt man, dressed in black with a sword strapped across his back. It was in one of these courtyards he now sat, on a stone bench, lyre in hand as he plucked softly on the strings. There was no tune, or melody, each note was incarnate of itself as his hands moved almost independently. His eyes slowly scanned the silhouette of the skyline, watching the sunlight reflect and refract in the glass domes. He plucked along the high notes, trying to evoke musically the same quiet majesty that the sunrise gave to the city of Lhavit. Emeric's eyes cast downwards and he spotted the figure, down the sloping path which ran through the courtyard and wound its way upwards. Instinctively his hand reached out to the cloak folded neatly beside him, and the blade still hidden within. Reassured, he let his eyes fall upon her. It was immediately clear she wasn’t Lhavitian, who all seemed to walk with careful strides and dignified postures. This girl, however, seemed to float from point to point – stopping every few steps to study a flower and note it down in her book. Emeric felt a pang of regret. It was a small thing for most people – to write. But something he’d never learnt; which had become all so apparent within Lhavit. As she wandered towards the courtyard, he could see her properly. Regarding her with some degree of comfort, he could sense a kinship with the outsider who peered into the souls of leaves and smelt a weed on the ground. She was operating on her own terms, conducting her own business away from the prying eyes of others. Emeric wasn’t sure if it was personal choice, or whether the citizens of Lhavit objected to having flowers plucked from their lawns – but he respected it nonetheless. Feeling no obligation to interrupt her, he merely resumed plucking the strings of his lyre and attempting to form some sort of tune. Attentively studying the young woman who approached. OOCSorry for the lack of interaction, it's just not really in Emeric's character (or Haeli's, I suppose) to approach a stranger like that. Perhaps the music will lure her over?

[Haeli]

As the sun rose, slowly casting the city in a surreal wash of warmth, Haeli made her way unassumingly towards the man who would eventually start plucking the strings of his lyre. Normally music was a siren song to the feral transplant, drawing her like the warming waters of spring drew brightly colored fish out of the sea and up into the streams well below the city. But she was lost in her work and somehow, in a separate part of her mind, she linked the music to the rising of the sun rather than a terrestrial bard. It was probably the light and high pitch of the instrument that randomly delved from one plucked note to the next, much like the sunlight began to quietly dapple everything around her.

When she did notice him, the girl startled abruptly. In the swamp, she would have been dead. Here, in Lhavit though, it was only a man. Men were far less dangerous than most of the creatures Haeli was well aware of. Lhavit was a soft place though, full of people who tried to make others afraid of them dwelling in their towers. But she thought it was a lie. Men were not crocodiles. Men were not snakes. Men were something weaker. The city had made her softer though, less cautious, and almost stumbling upon the bard reminded her of that.

Immediately she squatted down, watching him, more curious than cautious. Blond hair fell down around her shoulders, loose like a Lhavitian child, and brushed the ground as she rested her rear on her heels and watched him like a wild thing. When he made no move and reacted not at all, Haeli smiled.

"I thought I was hearing sunlight, not a man's hands on strings. I thought today dawn was music instead of light. Such a silly thought, isn't it? I blame the thin air here, with the city perched so high in the sky. It makes the light play tricks on you." She said, smiling slightly, as if the idea both delighted her and embarrassed her slightly.

"You aren't one of them. You are something different." She'd noticed right away, not because of his actions, but because of his eyes. He saw everything, his gaze darting around, never resting in one place long enough to be hit from behind while his gaze was distracted elsewhere. "You have eyes like a ...." She didn't finish her thought. It would insult him to say prey. She'd been about to tell him he had eyes like a deer rather than like a wolf. But she didn't want him to be offended. Lhavitians were sometimes quick to misunderstand her words.

She was still squatting, resting lightly on her heels. Suddenly, as if she understood, she glanced upwards and caught sight of the sun peaking over a ridge. "You were welcoming Syna back into the sky weren't you? That's why I heard sunlight in your music and mistook it for the real thing." Clever. She hadn't been raised dull witted, though she had been raised to run wild and survive within that wildness. And so she took a long moment to look at him with her strange citrine eyes then smiled.

"It is a beautiful way to greet the dawn. You should not stop." And then she did something even stranger. She pulled a handful of copper rim-miza, five in all, out of her pants pocket and laid it on the bench next to him, rising momentarily and taking a step forward to do so. Then she resumed her previous position, settling down to listen.

[Emeric]

She looked up and met his gaze. Emeric couldn’t discern what it was but in an instant a myriad of emotions played across the girl’s face. She crouched on the ground, like a lean wolf in the mountains - ready to pounce. His fingers travelled along the length of one string, drawing out a note and distorting it. She smiled, and began to speak. Words straight from the mind, jumping around like the sunrise tune he played. She spoke clearly, dancing between thoughts, from his music to the height of the city. To Emeric she spoke honestly. “You are something different.” Emeric felt like she too saw him for what he was, an outsider. His eyes glanced down at the fingerless glove on his left hand, which rarely ever came off but to wash, which carried the half sun brand of a slave. Looking up, he could see they were alone in the courtyard and she was looking at him directly. Those honest eyes peering into his own. He felt uncomfortable but didn’t look away – afraid of the animalistic notion that looking away meant failure. She began to speak again, about his eyes but trailed off. A flicker of nervousness, however she seemed more comfortable before him. Perhaps realising he was no threat to her, or maybe deciding she would be no threat to him. She told him he was welcoming Syna. “I welcome no gods,” He growled, almost immediately. His tone was fiercer than he meant, he had no intention of offending the young girl. “My finger’s play, that’s all there is.” His fingers did indeed play, almost independently, but her words drew thoughts of Syna into his mind. Perhaps he was welcoming her, just as she welcomed him when he entered the city at dawn, four days earlier. The very city which Zintila had gifted these people, drawn from the sky and the mountains into the remarkable structures that he now resided in. Indeed, the gods were as varied as the men he met on the road. The mizas she placed on the bench confirmed to him that she wasn’t a Lhavitian, and her words urged him to continue with the song. He didn’t need the encouragement, but she was eager to listen – he rarely had any audience other than himself. The music from the simple instrument often drew him away from the troubles of the world and calmed the fire in his heart. Where are you from? Why are you here? What is your name? Why do you study the plants? All the questions which flashed through Emeric’s mind, all of which he crushed with almost Lhavitian propriety. Instead he merely laced his single query with all manner of options, she would offer what information she wanted to – he wouldn’t pry further. “Who are you?”

[Haeli]

His growling didn't bother her at all because it was an honest reaction, something she'd expect from a creature of the woods rather than a carefully molded citizen of Lhavit. In fact, it relaxed her even further because it meant he wasn't hiding his feelings, which was something she rarely understood when humans did it. Sarcasm, teasing, even veiled threats were often lost completely on Haeli who had no experiences with humans before coming to the city this year. She was desperately trying to learn more of their behavior, but it wasn't something she'd by any means mastered.

Their behavior.

Haeli watched the man and thought about how she thought of them. Humans. It pained her every day of her life that she was one, but she still hadn't been able to bridge the gap between knowing and accepting. She'd been raised something else entirely, and often it showed.

The swamp witch let his words sink in and then offered him a smile. "I know very little about the Gods, Sir, but what I do know is that they are a great deal like people... different each one, some worthy of love, and some worthy of fear. Syna brings us light and bathes the world, revealing it to us. She is the light that feeds the world, and every living creature looks to her with thanks. There is no shame in welcoming her. She is beautiful and reveals the beauty all around us." It was more words than she'd said in a long time to anyone other than her kelvic friend. But she was lonely for conversation, for interaction of any kind, and wanted to talk to this man who made such music. "There are others, darker gods, of chaos and snakes and things best left unspoken that should never be mentioned for risk of drawing their attention." She added, her voice low, cautious.

But his music was distracting, so she found it hard to concentrate on the gods long at all. Haeli had no idea if it was good music or not, for she had very little to compare and contrast it too. But she knew she liked it and it soothed her even as it seemed to sooth the man as he created it.

His question was worded oddly. Had he asked for her name, she would have given it. And even though his eyes were full of wary curiosity and questions, she did not know enough about the language of a humans gaze to even begin to understand what lurked within them. So when he asked the question, Haeli didn't respond immediately. She shifted positions, moving her weight from her heels to her toes and balancing that way. There was actually nothing clean about her long bare toes. The gripped the stone of the courtyard, useful but ignored, wholly strange in a city where silk slippers and carved leather sandals were popular.

"I wish I knew who I am. I came here looking to find out. Every day I learn more, but it is still difficult. Humans are hard to understand, even if you are one, but don't feel like it inside. I think sometimes it is easier to say what you are not. I know those things far more firmly." She added, her eyes lost someplace else for a moment. She rose then as more sunlight bathed her, and moved slightly, unconsciously shifting out of a beam of sunlight that spilled into the little area where they had unknowingly gathered. She was down on her heels again in a second, looking for all the world as if she hadn't even realized she'd moved.

Haeli had years of practice in being prey. Avoiding being obviously someplace was as easy to her as breathing.

"And you?" She asked, letting him decide just exactly what it was she asked.

[Emeric]

The girl’s rhetoric impressed Emeric, talking of the gods as if she was talking directly to his mind. Indeed, to Emeric it appeared as if the girl before him had interacted directly with the gods. She couldn’t have been out of teens but she carried herself like a woman who had experienced entire lives, far removed from the entirely human world that Emeric lived in. His hands quietened as she spoke, the sun itself making itself more prominent as she talked of the beauty of Syna. She descended into a low, hushed tone when talking of the darker gods. Those of wrath, fury and those of petty jealousy and bitterness. He couldn’t help but think of Kelwyn, the pair who had condemned him to a life in chains. In truth, these were issues he didn’t oft think on. Whoever this strange girl was she had an infectious sense of thought and curiosity. Introspection wasn’t something he was used to, his mind more likely to puzzle out the existence of others than focus on himself. The pair lapsed into a comfortable silence, the girl studying him like one of the flowers she plucked from the street. She seemed to be deep in thought at his question, her golden eyes seemingly reflecting the sunlight straight into him as she pondered. Her answer surprised him, but also struck a chord. His fingers resumed playing the lyre on his lap as she spoke. Hesitancy in her voice, the vulnerability that every living being felt when confronted with their fundamental identity. Her words hinted at more than Emeric could ever know, and once again led him to believe that someone very remarkable sat before him. Briefly he thought her a Kelvic, in that she referred to Humans, but she clarified. She hadn’t been able to resist the calling. The same that he’d felt more and more, to discover who he was and what he wanted. “And you?” She asked, all the while moving away from the beam of sunlight which was creeping across the courtyard. For all her talk of the beauty of Syna she seemed afraid to embrace it. Emeric enjoyed the feeling of the sun, warming up the leather shell he lived in. “You don’t have to hide, you know, you’re not in danger here.” He said; picking up his cloak and placing it on the ground between them, only the quietest of sounds to suggest there was steel beneath. The sword, the instrument he truly had to practice with to survive in this world. He motioned for her to sit. “I…,” he began, “it is difficult to know yourself. I…” Once again he paused, trying to think of what it was that made him, him. “Some people say that we are defined by our actions, but all I’ve done… is survive.” He closed his eyes and let the warmth of the rising sun bathe his face, tilting his chin upwards to the peaks. He knew that time like this had to be appreciated, savoured for he knew not how long it would last. “What I do know, is that you cannot define yourself by what you are not. No matter how much easier it is.” His face twisted into a grim smile, thinking of all the things he wasn’t and probably never would be. “So: who are you?”

[Haeli]

Haeli watched Emeric's eyes for the longest time then brought her gaze out more broadly to study the lines of his face and the way his hair rested upon his head. She noted details, always, whenever she really looked at things because it had been trained into her for years. The shadow of a days growth was noted on his jawline as well as the way the light tinted his skin and highlighted any flaws that everyone always carried in the planes and angles of their form. When he tipped his head back only slightly subtly she noticed. He seemed to absorb the essence of the light, brightening the shadows he was sitting in and making him look vastly different from mere moments ago.

She was caught up by the stark beauty of the single heartbeat of time, the instant image of a man suddenly forgetting himself and being only a creature thankful and appreciative of the light and warmth Syna brought. She found him beautiful then, in the same way she admired a stag stepping into the light of a forest glade. He seemed to own the moment in a way she truly couldn't describe or begin to understand.

But then he closed his eyes.

One never closed their eyes in front of a potential enemy and lived long. It was a flaw that marked him as inexperienced in Haeli's mind. "There is danger everywhere, even here." She said simply, glancing at the cloak that lay before her concealing something metal. Moving forward in one fluid motion, she closed the distance between the cloak and herself, settling near it and obeying his gesture to sit. She reached forward, taking advantage of his inattention, to peel back to edge of the cloak and reveal the weapon beneath. Her fingers reached out, having never seen one up close, and traced the edges of its form. "Even shrouded in the promise of warmth, death lays in wait. It is an instrument of killing, is it not?" She had no name for it. Haeli's vocabulary was limited. She could have told someone what a dagger was, for she had several, but all were used in harvesting and eating, nothing more. This was a man's weapon - a human weapon - to compensate for not having claws and fangs and venom and all the things animals were gifted with for their protection.

She made to pick it up and blinked in surprise at its weight and actual size. More of the cloak fell away even though she did not follow through with the action, setting it down instead with an abrupt sound of metal on stone. She left it lay knowing perhaps by just the first hesitant attempt that it was too much weight for her.

Haeli looked up and met his eyes. The citrine was shadowed by questions and deeper thoughts than just what he was asking.

She was instead thinking about what he'd said. "Where I come from, those that survive are the best and brightest. They are the strongest or the ones with the sharpest minds and cleverest thoughts. Weaker creatures perish. But they do not define themselves as survivors. That part just is and isn't worthy of even mentioning. It is those that thrive though, that learn to adapt day by day who become something more. I can see that you are not a survivor, not just that. That we are both here makes this fact obvious. You are something more." She said, half closing her own eyes in pleasure because he continued to stroke the lute, and it was beautiful music to her, even in all its randomness.

And then he asked her the same question again. She frowned, wanting to argue with him that one could not be defined by what they were not. But he was right, and the slight authority he carried in his voice when he asked her a second time reminded her so much of Ozantha that she blinked a moment and answered him without taking the time to think.

"I am a dhani's daughter, though no dhani blood flows through me. I am a child the Suvan Sea rejected even as it ate up all the rest who traveled with me. I am a human who hates being human because it is the weakest of all thinking creatures. I came here to try to understand them and find love for them, but so far I have had little success. There is more to me, but so much of what makes me who I am is not important here. I know things, secret things, about plants and animals and can use them to help others, especially when they are sick. But nothing of what I am fits in and makes sense here. Here I need to be someone else, and I am finding that the hardest part of all - redefining myself. Can you understand?" She asked quietly, as if she didn't expect him to really understand.

"Will you tell me why you are here, in this place, doing this?" She asked quietly, curiously. It was a broader question, not just meaning the little square and playing his instrument. She wanted to know about why he was in Lhavit and what drew him there.

It never even occurred to Haeli that he might have been simply asking for her name.

[Emeric]

She plucked at the blade and let it drop again. The girl was almost startled that a sword would have such a weight about it. She treated it like she’d never seen a sword in her life, though he wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t seen this particular type. An instrument, she said. Once again speaking directly into his mind, as if he were screaming out his internal thoughts. “Aye, it is. An instrument that has been played far more than I should have liked.” Blood, screams, anger – no – fury, death. Images projected onto the honest eyes of the girl beside him as he watched her, images for which he had no right to pollute her with. “She’s got her money’s worth, though.” He noted with a dark chuckle. The blade was left exposed under the cloak, but he paid it no heed – there were no Lhavitians to scowl at the uncouth man clad in black. The girl spoke again, in that lilting cadence of hers, of where she was from. Myrian, he thought briefly – dismissing it again. The girl had the wild in her, that much was clear, but too much dignity to be among the cannibal hordes. Those that thrive? “Thriving?” He gave another dark smile. Perhaps the image in his minds eye was not correct, but in the eyes of Lhavit he appeared no more than a refugee, bedraggled and bloodied – playing the lyre on his lap to beg for small change. He wouldn’t be a target for petty theft, which suited him fine. “I am a dhani’s daughter…” she began. Evoking within him a pang of loss again, not remembering his family – if he had one at all. The brand stabbed him with pain again, making him stop playing. Baring the emotional weight that being in this city placed on her shoulders. Can you understand? The question tiptoed through his mind. She was raised by a snake, he thought of those eyes which told another story, those… honest eyes. “Understand? Perhaps not… I think I comprehend, however. All that you are, all that you know. It doesn’t… belong, in this place – at least.” The face before him fluttered between the girl and the woman, for whom caution and curiosity seemed to be in a constant struggle. “Being on the outside looking in is a hard way to live, but you can learn – maybe be the person that they never can be. No matter how tall your mother was, you have to do your own growing.” Emeric knew he was no master wordsmith, but could sense the girl could use some frank advice. He had lived too little to have worldly knowledge to draw on, instead peddling the idioms he’d remembered from the sharp tongued poets who danced between the tables in each common tavern. He caught himself staring at the lithe young woman, and looked away swiftly – not wishing to give the impression of a lecherous bard in a pub. "Will you tell me why you are here, in this place, doing this?" She asked, in her peculiar phrasing. A more pleasant smile passed his lips as he thought perhaps she was getting back at him for putting her on the spot. His fingers brushed over the brand. On the back of the hand, still gnarled and ugly as the day he was delivered, the half sun. The symbol of a Ravok slave. Most of the time the dull pain would lapse into the background, only truly troubling him in the dead of night when sleep refused to come. The glove very rarely came off, but to wash, the fingers free to play his lyre and swing the falchion. “I am here because any further and I’d have to learn to swim. Might be I’ll find something in this city to justify how far I’ve travelled…” How far I’ve run. “Might be I’ll leave this afternoon and start walking to Wind Reach. I won’t, but it’s nice to have the option.” He lapsed into silence once more, thinking about what he wanted from the city and finding himself short, it had its charms but he didn’t feel right indulging himself. “There is a lot I can learn from this city, and the more I learn the stronger I will be when I venture back out those gates.” Emeric leant back onto the balustrade that kept them from falling off the side of the mountain, plucking a flower from the flowerpots which lined the railing. Grateful for the providence behind his head, and its ability to bring their conversation onto brighter plains. Orange, with long petals which seemed to fall back under their own weight. “Would you?” He asked, holding out the flower for her. “Would you tell me a secret about this flower? You can make it up, if you like. I’ll never know.”

[Haeli]

She looked at him with new eyes after his comment about the weapon being an instrument played more than it should. Citrine eyes blinked and then she shook her head slightly, before speaking quietly once more. "I was taught only to kill when it was necessary and to never regret it. If I have to kill, it has been only in times I liked it to happen." She said, imparting her matron's wisdom on the man even as the old dhani had imparted in on her. "You are far more lethal if you are always sure and hold no regrets in your heart." She offered, glancing down at the weapon and back up at him. His words about its cost brought no response from her. As far as Haeli was concerned, she agreed with him. His life was valuable. So too was hers. If a weapon protected that value, then it was worth its cost, whatever that might be. Her claws meant the same to her as well.

"Thriving." She said firmly. Her eyes swept his form, the light in his eyes, and his health. He had so much more than others, even if he didn't even realize it.

His next words surprised her. She stared openly at him, blinking in surprise, and started to speak. She closed her mouth, took a breath, and nodded. "Yes, exactly like that. Exactly. How is it that you understand?" She said, referring to how he astutely described her. No one had ever really understood that, not in the two seasons she'd been here. A lot of people had judged her, called her strange, unworthy of being in Lhavit or even having a business. But no one had ever seemingly scraped off her hide, pinned it up, and pointed it out for what it was.

Haeli studied him further, fascinated, and not meaning to be. She was curious about humans, but most she'd met disgusted her or surprised her in ways that made her uneasy. They were violent and territorial and had rules and laws that escaped her. This man seemed to be reaching out across the distance and inviting a connection whether he realized it or not. Haeli moved closer, subtly, telling herself it was to hear him more clearly. But the truth was she was busy within herself, working djed on her senses, borrowing Fang's sense of smell in subtle ways. Her shift was a restless stretch and resettlement to put him more at her side and less in direct front of her. It shifted her view towards the entrance to where they relaxed rather than making him the primary enemy needing watching. And when she was ready, her sense of smell altered, she took in his scent in long deep breaths that seemed to draw his essence into her lungs for a moment before she released it back to him again.

It was something strangely inhuman and rarely done by the girl. But she wanted to be able to find him if he did indeed stand up and walk out the gates headed towards Wind Reach, a place she'd never heard of. She inhaled deeply again. He was linen and leather mixed with wool and cotton. He also smelled of his lyr and the faint metallic odor of his weapon. There was a human male scent unique to him that she thought reminded her of the spiced bark of a cypress tree. A faint trace of multiple horses remained, old after multiple washings but not old enough to be long gone. He as worn, the scent of travel clinging to him, but not foul like so many unwashed humans were. She breathed again and again until she knew she had it.

Haeli met his eyes again, missing the gesture where he stroked his leather coated hand as if it concealed something beneath.

She nodded her agreement to his words. "I hope the learning will come quickly and easily. It is not as effortless here as I thought it would be. They are strange in how they act and view each other. Often they do not act the same way in the same situations from day to day. It's far harder to learn from them than it is from other things more wild." She said, suddenly lumping humans into their own category separate from the man before her. It was as if she suddenly placed him in a category closer to her own due to the fact that he too was here to learn from the Lhavitians. "I really wanted to like them and like it here. But I do not think this is so much the case. I will keep trying though, like you, looking for a reason for being here." She said.

When he plucked the flower, she looked thoughtfully at it and then took it from his hands. "Why would I make up a secret about it when it will most likely be quite willing to tell me anyhow?" She asked, smiling, and now confident in the task he asked of her. She shifted slightly and cloth fell away from her leg, exposing a bare length of her lower limb, emphasizing the bare feet. A mark graced her ankle that looked unearthly, something that could never be mistaken for a tattoo. It was a scene, complex in its elaborate nature, yet easy enough for one to interpret if a person had ever walked across a swamp. A giant Cyprus tree, its roots buried in still overgrown waters, was etched into the young woman's leg. It grow proud and strong, and the more he looked the more life he could see the tree supporting. A snake gracefully coiled up its trunk, while egret's perched in its boughs. Moss hung from its limbs supporting odd flowers and even more creatures of deadly beauty. It shimmered momentarily, as Haeli took the flower and gazed at it intently.

As she gently wrapped her fingers around the flower, it seemed to move within her grasp. She smiled, glanced up at him, and shook her head. "It is not of the swamp, or I could tell you all its secrets. I just know what it is because I have known others of its kind. It is a lily..." she said, glancing around staring at the others around them. Some where marked with black dashes, others were more plain like the one he handed her. "They hold no medicine, unless this is a kind I am not used too. But I imagine this one has a plain name, like orange or fire, and longs to be like the spotted ones whom probably bear more pretentious names like everything here in Lhavit." She said, laughing slightly, then looking back up at him. She was almost setting at his feet now, and her still-altered nose was taking in the lily's scent and all the other scents around her. "It blooms for only a short time. All the lily's do. Then it retreats beneath the grown and is as hard to kill as an anaconda in the still waters of the Gyvaka who's grown fat on baby crocodiles and suckling pigs that come down to the water to drink. You would never know the ugly tangle of roots that it builds holds such beauty that comes up and shows itself only for this short period of time. But it does." Haeli said, in a reverent voice.

She picked up the book she'd been carrying and writing in moments before they met and tucked the flower between blank pages. She'd make notes on it later, as well as the fact it was simply orange while others around it bore stripes. Then she offered the book to the man, to see if he wanted to have a look through it. "Would you like to see?" She asked cautiously.

[Emeric]

“I understand because we all understand, finding our place in the world is a lifelong struggle for all. Strip away the homes, titles and belongings of the people in this city. Remove the morals and expectations of society, politics and their gods…We’re all the same, we just wear it in different ways.” His eyes panned across the area. Speaking like a preacher didn’t sit right with him. He was no great scholar, or priest of some mighty god – he was just a man who was poisoning the girl with egalitarian ideals when the truth of the world was much harsher. The girl sat before him now, like a student before a teacher. Her body not pouncing to strike, but settling to listen. She took deep breaths as he spoke, something he’d been taught to calm his nerves but he saw no reason for her to be nervous. The mountain people were a peaceful people, and asleep. Of learning they were in agreement, and he felt a kinship with the wild girl. It was understandable that she would much prefer the life she had wherever she came from. The sun was rising yet further and its warmth was beginning to take hold, the light dancing across her hair and illuminating her face as she spoke. She had struggled, that was clear – and there was an undercurrent of anger in his thoughts at those who hadn’t shown her at least courtesy in their dealings. She took the flower from him, and seemed to light up instantly. The cloth she wore slid and her calf was exposed. Emeric’s breath caught for an instant, the primal mind gazing on the skin of girl before him. He saw the mark, so much more alive than the map he had on his own back, shimmering and healthy. A gnosis, he was sure – a gift from a god. He had seen someone with a gnosis borne of wrath, ugly and gnarled. The image was a part of her, a scene of life itself. A scene he imagined which came directly from her home. She peered closely at the pretty flower and the tree on her leg shimmered with its imbued power. Emeric had heard stories of people being given great and terrible gifts from the gods, the power to burn down cities with a thought or draw memories from someone’s very mind. Tales from the idle chatter of drunks but always found surrounding a nugget of truth. She spoke like her gift was the language of plants, and the way she stared into it supported his idea. With the lily in hand, she spoke in allegory and metaphor, the nature of the flower being the nature of the city itself. Humanity desperate to show its pretty face and hide its ugly heart, it was a cynical view – but one he understood. She was being hardened by the city, the reality of the world outside of where she had come from – and he pitied her. Her honest eyes must’ve seen the world in such beauty and now she was being forced to close them. The journal was heavier than he expected, though not cumbersome by any means. Simple in design and well looked after; he took the book from the girl silently. Letting it lay in the palm of his hand, to feel the thing before him. Books were generally a rare sight; the time required for each to be transcribed meant each and every volume in Mizahar was unique. Emeric was careful when opening it, his calloused fingers and broad hands not accustomed to the simple task of turning a page. Within he saw not a story or report, instead delicate pictures with words scrawled all around them. There were clippings of plants, green and red and all other colours. All had faded slightly, and some had leaked into the pages themselves – leaving them stained and stiff. The words scratched into the page were a mystery but he assumed their intention – description, uses, and locations. He closed it again carefully, and held it by the spine. “Many a traveller through the wilderness would pay good money to know about the plants he passes, which to eat, which to staunch bleeding, which to sharpen up his eyesight.” He spoke, remembering a traveller who chewed a weed from the northern border of Eyktol, and who could describe his surroundings in the dead of night with incredible detail. “If you ever fall on harder times, that knowledge could support you.” Emeric mused idly. He passed the book back to the girl, trying to avoid the bare leg with his gaze – instead looking directly into the citrine hue of her eyes. Often with those he met he wondered what it was they could contribute if left alone, most people were simple in their skills: killing, drinking and whoring chief among them. Within the cities, knowledge was prized more, persuasion and mercantile craft even more so. This girl had come from a whole other world, which made her more of an enigma – fascinating even. “If you don’t find your reason,” He began, his hands reaching behind and tracing through the flowers, “then you shouldn’t stay. There is a whole world out there, deserts and jungles and floating cities. With as many plants as you could ever wish to study, and animals for you to talk to if the human’s aren’t to your taste.” He smiled at the notion of the girl travelling across the Sea of Grass, or on a ship surrounded by Svefra. His own path would most probably be that of darkness and danger, and more than likely be a path to his own death. His curiosity about the girl was almost overwhelming. “When you have learnt what you wanted to learn, and settled on your opinion of other humans – where will you go? Back to your home?”