Closed [Zintia Rest] Moment of Indolence

[Haneht]

♛ H A N E H T ♛ ∆ E Y P H A R I A N ∆ W/C: 579 21st, Summer 518AV Dusk

Zintia's Rest was no stranger to the oddity that was Haneht - a six-armed, tall, golden skinned outlander that had come to call Lhavit his home in recent years. He'd taken to Lhavit's culture like a fish to water, the shining city's modern, open-mindedness and balance of work and play easily accommodating the Eypharian's ways. Two years later, and he's doing fairly well by his lonesome in the fair land of the Okomos, chasing his dreams and desires like every other bright-eyed Lhavitian youth.

He'd eagerly opted for a relaxing bath to ease his sore muscles after a day of dancing and frolicking about, the latter more so than the former, and the fatigue finally started kicking in. For all the stamina and strength his dancer's body boasted, Haneht was one who exploited his youthful vigour often, and never did quite master the art of restraint. Zintia's Rest had been in the vicinity when he finally decided to call it a day, and what luck! Hessel - Syna bless that kindly madam - had rooms to spare today. He remembered the first time he chanced upon the rest, lost as an Okomo babe in the middle of a thunderstorm that had rolled into the city so suddenly, with a downpour so heavy that he hadn't been able to even see his own hands in front of his face. And Neht had six of such appendages!

The trip to his room had been a relatively short one, and once he marked it, had somehow wandered off, bag in hand due to his tendency to lose anything as soon as he so much as loosened his hold on it. Many a turns were made, and he continued down on for a good few chimes because adventure was in his blood, calling and singing to him. A little wandering never hurt, and getting lost had been at the will of the Gods and Goddesses! A preordained happening that he would never deny or resist against. Haneht had had the privilege of witnessing a very passionate, tender moment between a lovely young couple in the hallways. A thoughtful hum rumbled in his throat as his thoughts briefly drifted to them - what were they currently doing? - and in the moment where his mind wandered, he failed to notice that the room he hadn’t returned to was not his original and, in fact, the frequented and very much reserved chambers of a certain Inartan hunter. Not his.

Alas, it seemed the rightful guest was not present, not visibly at the very least, so the whimsical brunette questioned nothing and immediately assumed this was where he was meant to be. Unsuspecting and giddy with excitement at the prospective of a much needed dip in his own private bathing pool, he divested himself of his clothes, callously tossing them on the ground, goosebumps trailing up golden skin at the intrusion of cold air. With no further intentions to waste the few remaining bells he had of uninterrupted self-care, he broke the steaming waters of the small bathing pool with his toes, the rest of his body gradually following in a slow submersion.

Lips parted in a low, content moan, the gentle, warm caress of the bath working its magic into skin and flesh, throughout his being and sinking to the core of his bones. Today, his mind was quiet, frighteningly violent thoughts nowhere to be found, and he hoped for it to remain that way.

[Raeyn]

The summer seemed only colder and more frigid by the day. The kind of fog that descended on the Misty Peaks had rivalled even the densest fogs of previous years. The weather itself seemed an omen of terrible things to come.

Raeyn hadn't really been sleeping. Not anymore. How could he after all this god forsaken season had in store for him? The Inarta felt like there was less of himself in his own mind than there ever was. Preoccupied, as he was, by the paranoia that had made his mind a home, now guided his every action. Not a step did he take, even behind the safe boundaries of Lhavit's walls, without looking back. Every shadow hid a monster behind it. Every time he looked up into the sky he remembered the dark, ominous silhouette of the Zith, wondering when the beast will return to reap it's harvest. Raeyn did trust in the Shinya but it wouldn't hurt to have his weapon handy - just incase.

No. Raeyn wasn't sleeping well at all. He had missed the last two rests though his own stupidity and the fatigue was starting to show. Purple shadows nested snugly beneath his eyes, made only more obvious by the white discolouration on the right side of his face.

Suddenly Raeyn found himself thankful for having enough sense to make a reservation at the Zintia Rest that morning. There's only so many hours of sleep that a man can miss before his body stops listening to him. Of course he'd prefer the comfort of the solitude of his own home but in absence of the thing he preferred, Raeyn would have to settle for preferring the thing he had.

A bright and sprightly face of an elderly Eypharian greeted him as Raeyn walked though the door. A beautiful furry Kalean Spicecoat followed obediently, weaving it's way around the hunter's legs. "Good afternoon mrs Hassel." he said politely with a nod, showing respect to the cleaner. In his experience people seemed much more likely to grant requests when treated with dignity, after all. "Have you space for this guy. I'd have to leave him out in the cold and my sister's not at work today so I can't quite dump him on her."

Hassel looked at the Inarta, rolling her eyes, but with an amused chuckle. This clearly wasn't the first time he's done this. And knowing that he would get away with such requests when the woman was about only made Raeyn more careless. He was really quite fond of the woman. Few people in Lhavit weren't. Although he barely knew any details of her life of even such things as likes and dislikes, things he didn't really care about, she made for a decent enough conversation. A short conversation. And that's precisely how he liked them.

"Very well then mr Raeyn. But we're not a kennel you know? Let this be the last time you bring him here." she replies as she beaconed Ruru over who gladly leaped to her side only to be spoiled by excitable petting from 6 hands at once.

"Certainly." lied Raeyn.

"And if he leaves any fur on the freshly polished floor I'll be having you clean it up mr Raeyn. Don't doubt my words."

By the time the friendly threats reached the Inarta's ears he had already disappeared down one of the corridors to his usual room. Though not much different from any others, it was his favourite, and he knew the way like the back of his hand.

To say Raeyn was looking forward to a little rest at this point was an understatement. So close was he to the promise of sleep, he could almost feel the bliss of removing his sweaty hunting gear, tossing the simple brown clothing he wore to the side and not even bothering to fold it. In his bag, the far more fashionable and comfortable fresh robes would be waiting for the moment he'd wake up. The nostalgia of sweet scents and essential oils caressed Raeyn's imagination. But it seemed this day had not yet finished shyking with him; for, the moment Raeyn arrived at the room of his destination and slid open the door, bad luck seemed to descend upon him in waves, as always.

Raeyn's room was occupied. That it was. But if it had just been occupied then perhaps Raeyn would have dealt with the situation in a slightly better, slightly calmer way. The sight of a naked Eypharian kid bathing carelessly in the pools of his private room wasn't quite the sight that the fatigued hunter was hoping to see. No. That is wasn't.

Raeyn slammed the door as soon as he opened it. His cheeks burned brighter than the fire of Syna from embarrassment. Slamming his fist against the wood, the Inarta roared loud enough for all other rooms on the floor to hear. "Are you petching kidding me!?"

"How unfortunate. You have your weapon with you. Make him pay in blood"

It seemed the voices were becoming more and more strategic. They'd catch him at his lowest points, only to make those points worse. Raeyn was tolerating their disgusting, unthinkable requests worse and worse with each day passing. To come to terms with the thought one could be loosing their mind, was difficult at best.

"Not now... Not now, not now, not now." This was the last thing he needed. Tiered and frazzled with so very many things on his mind, Raeyn didn't need those whispers right now. Not in a moment he would genuinely consider such things, feeling wronged as he did. Self control suddenly seemed an insurmountable task as adrenaline pumped though his veins. None the less he clung at his sanity fiercely, leaning his back against the door and breathing in deeply, controlling his heart beat. Having learned meditation seemed to come in really handy in moments like this. Moments which he seemed to have more of than he'd like. For a second he forgot the whole ordeal and focused on little more than emptying his frazzled mind.

[Haneht]

♛ H A N E H T ♛ ∆ E Y P H A R I A N ∆ W/C: 438 21st, Summer 518AV Dusk

Fifteen chimes in, he’d taken to replacing the silence of the room with the sound of his own voice. What had started off as a low hum had moved on to a weird conversation with himself, then evolved into a recitative when the chatting got too dull for his preferences. When the door opened suddenly, glazed amber pools flitted over almost immediately, barely catching onto a man’s sky blue, weary gaze before the door slammed shut unceremoniously. This was followed closely by frustrated yelling outside, one that was sure to have roused anyone in the surrounding rooms and then some. It took a moment for it all to sink in, dazed as the brunette was.

Bathing, usually, would be the time of the day when Haneht was at his most lax, and always left him in a much better mood than before. He was a simple creature like that, easily tamed and domesticated by pleasure. Most days, anyways. The sudden intrusion far from fazed him, although he was a little miffed. That’s alright, he thought, smiling dreamily, bath waters sloshing and trickling over him as he stood up. We’re all here for a good time. With his stature, it took very few steps to make it to the door, and the boy had strode across the room confident and very much comfortable in his own skin. He was nearly about to open the door, but caught himself in the nick of time and retrieved a towel to wrap around his waist for decency’s sake. The other’s, not his.

Dominant left fist, from his middle set of arms, rapped on the door, charming smile already present as he swung the door open before he even got a response. “Hello,” greeted the boy, casual and warm like one would’ve a friend and not a stranger who’d literally walked in on him in the nude. Not that he minded - the Eypharian body was a divine work of art, one that he’d been raised to take the utmost pride in.

Speaking of art, this man looked like a masterpiece himself! With pale, golden skin of his own, freckles like clusters of stars on his face and hair the colour of fire. However, the most fascinating of his features were the white patchwork of pigmentation scattered across his skin like paint, white lashes and brows and a shock of white hair that Haneht is fairly sure shouldn’t be there on a man this youthful in appearance. A pretty combination of colours and contrasts, like the man’s very skin has been kissed and blessed by Syna and Leth. “Is there something you need?”

[Raeyn]

Leaning on the door was not the cleverest thing he’d ever done. Not by far. For, in a moment the stranger twisted and pulled on the door knob, the wood gave way beneath Raeyn’s weight and the Inarta fell to the floor, on his back, with a painful thud and a whine of pain. It seemed he’d made a habit of falling this season. Quite the first impression indeed.

Raeyn blinked, a little dumbfounded. Sometimes even he struggled to believe his own bad luck. But the question on the lips of the stranger soon overtook that wondering. Did he need something? The nerve of that question itself made him even more furious. It burrowed into his brain. How dare the Eypharian be so very callous and ignorant to having imposed his presence on Raeyn’s time of rest? Had he any comprehension of the insult of his tone or his calm manner. Raeyn was expecting an apology. A begging for forgiveness. But no such thing was given. Had the boy even realised it was Raeyn’s quarters that he invaded?

In that moment had had almost listened to those dreadful voice. Even his hands clenched into tight fists. In the last second he had managed to grasp control of himself.

Moving his body into a sitting position by the sheer force of his will, in spite of the pain in his back, the Inarta glared at the stranger. A glare so venomous it could kill on impact. It couldn’t be more obvious that he was not impressed by the situation. Soon enough though that glare softened a little and a blush burned in his cheeks as he had the chance to properly look at his new adversary.

Oh and he was a pretty one. With skin of gold and youthful features. Eyes more alive than the winds of summer. Eyes that Raeyn himself once had before passing days managed to form fine lines beneath and around his lids. It would take more than a pretty face, however, to quench the fires of his rage but it was perhaps a good first step.

“You know, private rooms are private for a reason.” he grumbled beneath his breath. “Who are you anyway? One of Hassel’s lot?”

Truthfully, other than the cleaner, Raeyn had little experience with the six armed beauties of Ahnatep. Even the books of their ancient and colourful culture had evaded his interest tie now. And so the assumption that the two were in cahoots to mess with him wasn’t entirely out of spite but simply due to his ignorance. Yes, Raeyn did indeed have his unsavoury moments. Even the facade of politeness and platitudes had it’s cracks.

[Haneht]

♛ H A N E H T ♛ ∆ E Y P H A R I A N ∆ W/C: 566 21st, Summer 518AV Dusk

The loud thud that followed him opening the door was not what Haneht had been expecting at all. It appeared that the Inarta had either not heard his warning knocks or hadn’t reacted fast enough. Poor guy. Maybe he was old - that would explain the white hair and baggy eyes, and that cranky expression on his face. Bending down slightly, he offered a set of middle arms. “Apologies. Are you alright?” he would ask, regardless of if the other accepted his aid in getting up. He seemed a little out of it. Lost? Had he hit his head too hard? Definitely not the six arms, Hessel had her own too. He glanced downwards to check if the towel was still there. Not indecent exposure either.

Oh, was that a light dusting of blush he saw, creeping up on pale, bicoloured skin? A brow quirked in mild amusement at the sight of the man on the floor, murderous expression in pale blue irises easing a little when he seemed to take a proper look at the younger. Like what you see? Came the playful, teasing thought, but he dared not let such words past his lips. Something told him that the stranger wasn’t quite in the mood to play.

“Me?” The brunette blinked, dark lashes sweeping over doe-like eyes, the older male’s query registering in his mind only half a beat later. “I’m Haneht. Mistress Hessel and I are Eypharian, from Ahnatep, but that is as far as we go.” Smiled the boy again, pleasantly polite in tone. What a strange meeting this was! To think that he’d gone from having a pleasant time in the bath to conversing with a stranger, only a mishap away from nudity, right outside—

Haneht squinted at the room across, behind the grumbling Inarta, noticing that it seemed a little different than how he remembered it earlier, when he’d gone to check his own room. The wood didn’t have that bizarre scratch - trust him to notice the strangest of things - and it had been out of comission. That would mean that he was, in fact, in the wrong room, and had bathed in what was supposed to be someone else’s pool. A quick glance at his own doorway, and he began piecing things together, turning back at the brooding man who suddenly seemed like he had a very good reason for his sour mood. “Oh,” he breathed, coming to realise his folly. “This is very far from my room,” he began calmly, words delivered in such a way that he could’ve been talking about the weather. “Want to share? You won’t have to walk again, and the bath’s large enough for two.” The boy would offer shamelessly, with as charming a smile as he could muster, deliberately avoiding having to make that long, tedious journey to his intended room himself. He was aware of how unfair this likely was to the other, but Neht had always been a selfish one. The laziness he had come to associate with a nice, hot bath had kicked in, and frankly, he didn’t want to go through the trouble of having to redress himself and relocate his room again. That would mean another fifteen chimes in the hallways.

There was a reason he took two years to travel to Lhavit despite the promiximity of the desert to the Kalea region, after all.

[Raeyn]

Raeyn appreciated the inquiry as to his state of ‘alrightness’ but did little to show this. He was certainly man who had a far easier time expressing various states of grumpiness than genuine appreciation. He did however take one of the boy’s many hands that helped him up.

Soon enough one displeased face shifted to yet another, equally displeased face as he spied the brow raise. It was as if he knew exactly what the stranger was thinking., at least of such things he was certain. For Raeyn was far too painfully aware how ridiculous and undignified, how very much not himself, he appeared in that moment, with that blasted red colour in his cheek which he could do very little to control. Too polite perhaps to say so, the Eypharian was certainly making fun of him in his thoughts. So very certain was Raeyn of these thoughts that it took a moment for him to compose himself and not blow up again over words unspoken and insults withheld.

But at least the boy was polite. And that was a quality Raeyn could respect. Beauty too went far to calm his explosive Inarta temper.

“Very well, Haneht. My name is Raeyn. And this is certainly not your room.” he grumbled, crossing his arms and tapping a single alabaster finger against the fabric of his sleeve. His head nodded slightly as he did so to the rhythm.

His eyes pierced Neht, as he finally started to the awareness of his mistake. With raised eyebrows the Inarta though to himself sarcastically: you don’t say. But the next question from the boy’s lips left him perhaps even more dumbfounded than he had been this entire time. And till now Raeyn wasn’t really sure that was possible.

“Pretty face. Paint it red”

“You want me to.. what….” The Inarta blinked rapidly but unbeknownst to Neat that question wasn’t at all directed at him. Although it could have very much looked like it was. It fit the context. That voice. That dreadful, echoing whisper hissed in his ear maliciously, trying it’s worst to poison his mind. It seemed the more tiered he was the stronger and louder they felt.

“Paint it red. Red with blood.”

“No!” he gritted his teeth. “Over my dead body.”

[Haneht]

♛ H A N E H T ♛ ∆ E Y P H A R I A N ∆ W/C: 512 21st, Summer 518AV Dusk

A stupidly giddy smile graced his lips when the other accepted his help. He was at least a little bit forgiven! Even if the other’s face seemed to say otherwise.

Are all Inartas this grumpy? He wondered. The redhead would certainly look a lot younger if he stopped frowning show much - those wrinkles were getting awfully pronounced. He’d look fifty years older than he should at this rate, and that’s be such a waste of his handsome face.

Haneht would come to learn that this stranger’s name was Raeyn. Like the rain, his mind helpfully supplied. “Raeyn,” the boy would parrot softly, eyes bright with childish glee. “Pretty name for a pretty man,” Came the compliment, sincere to a degree, in hopes that this would further appease his newfound friend’s anger. Abashed, a dry mix of a nervous laugh and shy giggle would escape Haneht when Raeyn addressed the issue of the mix up, hands clasping behind his back and head tilting innocently. At least he admitted it, right? He could’ve been a whole lot meaner and avoided it all. Not that Hessel wouldn’t come for his hide after, but he knew she had a soft spot for her fellow Eypharian (he did too, but he’d never admit it sincerely). She called him ‘Son’, once, in their native language, and that had both made his heart flutter and crushed it at the same time. He reckoned it brought up bad memories for her too.

They never did speak about it, to his relief.

Raeyn, for reasons beyond Haneht’s comprehension, hadn’t responded to his offer as well as he had hoped. It seemed he was very adamant about getting his own room. Fine. Fine, the boy frowned, disappointed. Long walk aside, he had been hoping to learn a little more about the white-speckled stranger. Where did his unique colouring come from? How was his hair so nice and flowy? What have they seen, those eyes weary and lost, with a quiet tempest brewing in pools of sky blue?

Haneht wanted a story, and a companion, but no. Raeyn wanted to go sulk in his dumb pool all alone and grumpy. Something strange and dark boiled in him, and for a moment, there appeared a streak of viciousness in him that wanted nothing but to hurt Raeyn, because how dare he, how dare— stop, stop. What was it with him these days?

Unwittingly, he rubbed at the gold bracelet on his upper left wrist, pouting. “Aw, really? Even if I offer to sing?” He paused, taking another cursory once-over of the other again. He’d fallen just now, hadn’t he? Surely his back was hurting. A massage maybe? Haneht was far from an expert, but his sisters used to rub his aching back and legs as a child (dancing and practicing with iron fans with the added weight of six arms was no laughing matter), and he’d return the favours when they allowed him to.

Eyes glinting at the idea, he held up his hands, waving them a little in emphasis. “Or, perhaps you’d prefer a back massage?”

[Raeyn]

The comment lit a fire in Raeyn’s cheeks… again. His mind scrounged for some kind of apt response but came up empty. It seemed as if the Inarta really had no idea what to do with himself around men he found aesthetically appealing. One could not say that he ever felt comfortable when not completely in control of the situation and thus thought his anger and frustration completely justified. Still, he had to control himself somehow before he’d completely loose it and listen to those frightening voices.

Seeing the frown on Haneht’s face saddened him a little. Just a little. He would still be holding a grudge against him for invading the room, just… a slightly smaller grudge had he been anyone other than a young, beautiful Eyhparian.

Raeyn huffed and shook his head at the man’s offer. His eyes darted past Haneht and off to either side of the room before his mind was finally made. So it seemed his private room would be a little less private for even as grumpy and cynical character as him could be worn down. He scowled at Haneht one last time to make sure the boy knew just how very displeased about the whole situation he was, before striding past him and settling on the nearest couch, his bag dropping to his feet. His back would rest comfortably against the cushions and one leg would go up over the other knee. For a silent moment long enough to worry anyone to just looked at the kid, although kept his eyes above the shoulders only.

“You can stay.” he said in defeat. “But no singing. And keep your hands to yourself…. All of them. Got it? Or may Syna be my witness I will pepper you with arrows faster than you can blink.”

He leant his bow and quiver against the couch, close enough to make sure the Eypharian didn’t doubt his words, even if they were mostly a lie. Mostly. “So you’re from Ahnatep? A mighty long way to walk from there. I’m curious as to why anyone would undertake such a journey.” He began unbuttoning his shirt, eager to get out of it after the day’s training. “What do you do?… with your spare time I mean. I’m assuming you don’t just lazy about here all day. So if we’re stuck together for the next few chimes you might swell tell me a bit about yourself.”

[Haneht]

♛ H A N E H T ♛ ∆ E Y P H A R I A N ∆ W/C: 444 21st, Summer 518AV Dusk

Raeyn was an absolute dork, who flustered easily and was so very fun to tease, came the conclusion. Mirth gleamed in Haneht’s eyes, a light laugh escaping him unwittingly as he watched the other flush for the umpteenth time in barely ten chimes and struggle to respond. He’d have thought someone as good looking as the Inarta would’ve been used to such compliments by now. Haneht himself flourished in attention.

Raeyn might’ve kept his silence, but he hadn’t chased the younger out as of yet, and merely breezed past the other after surveying the room. It could’ve been to retrieve the unintentional intruder’s belongings and toss them out to join him in the corridor, but Haneht was very much used to having his way, so while the thought lingered, he was fairly certain of the outcome. He waited quietly, obediently and idle in the hallway, and his patience was soon rewarded with Raeyn relenting, albeit begrudgingly. I win, he thought triumphantly, twitching lips threatening to quirk into a smug, knowing smirk. No one could resist this one’s charms!

The brunette hurried in with the eagerness of a puppy, padding over to the pool and all but diving in, towel around his waist carelessly discarded by the edge. He surfaced a few ticks after, milky chocolate locks soaked and brushed back atop his head, odd curls sticking out in protest here and there. ”Okay,” he nodded, but it was no definite promise. Anyone who knew Haneht knew he was not usually one for prolonged silence. Or personal space. There was always a loophole he could exploit, and he very much liked to toe the line sometimes. Fortunately, it seemed Raeyn was willing to make conversation with the Eyph, as he himself undressed.

Humming thoughtfully, he swam over to the edge, chin resting in the soft crevice of a palm. “To spread my wings, I suppose. My sisters have married,” and one was dead, along with his parents “So I left to see the world. They’ve always babied me, you know. ‘Nehtsh, sleep early. Eat your vegetables. Don’t stare at Syna’s light. Stop rearing the poultry in your room. Stop bringing stray goats home.” bemoaned the youngest of his line, native Arumenic accent slipping off his tongue momentarily with his sisters’ nickname for him, but there was an underlying fondness in his tone. Suddenly nostalgic and vaguely homesick, he wondered how they were now. Well? Dead? Alive? He must be an uncle now, right?

He blinked in an effort to chase these thoughts away, a glimpse of brilliant, deep auburn hair in his memories belonging the previous owner of his precious gold bracelet stirring a fairly unpleasant feeling in his guts, that was both foreign and familiar at the same time.

“I do plenty. Dance, run wild, chase Okomo.” A slow, impish grin made its way onto his face, coyly adding: “I also like to look at pretty things, like you.” He shifted, arms folding to rest on the edge of the bathing pool, inquisitive as ever as he tilted his head curiously. “What of you? You’re very exotically coloured, and that’s coming from me. Why is that?”

[Raeyn]

Raeyn averted his eyes as the other dropped the towel on the floor and dove back into the water with the eagerness of a seal after a long time on dry land. Water droplets twinkling against the guided golden skin. It would have been rude to stare, in Raeyn’s mind. It would have been inappropriate, no matter how much he wanted to.

Instead the Inarta leant shifted out of his hunter’s clothes and replaced them with the gorgeous white and gold tunic that until now was safely hidden in his bad. The softness of the fabric against his skin was far more apt for such things as relaxation.

Raeyn could empathise with the feeling of inferiority to one’s sibling - at least that’s what he assumed Haneht was referring to. Mara herself was ever the social butterfly, always stealing the eyes and hearts of everyone she happened upon, be it a dashing gentleman, a child in need of care or an old woman willing to impart the knowledge of decades in little more than a conversation. She was adaptable, vivacious and beautiful. She needed little to fly though her life like a songbird, admired by many. And to her the cage of marriage and the promise of many more children to further their family bloodlines in Lhavit, was not a cage at all.

Raeyn was different. Raeyn knew precisely what he wanted from life. A hunger that couldn’t be quenched by the pretty eyes of a boy from exotic lands. It alienated him. Mad him feel like he was always on the outside looking in as normal people went about their normal lives doing normal things. Well what did that make him?

The notion of homesickness too was something they shared in common. Whilst however Haneht had grown up in his homeland, Raeyn had little more than the blood in his veins to tie him to mount Skyinarta. His homesickness was for the land he had never before stepped foot on, a city he never knew other than from his grandfather’s stories. The people he called his kin were people he’d never laid eyes on. There was no nostalgia in the homesickness in Raveyn’s heart but only the detached longing for things he was convinced he’s been missing out on for 27 years counting.

He didn’t hate Lhavit for this reason. Quite the opposite. Raeyn regarded the city as the holy temple of everything he held dear. The promise land. It was home but so was Wind Reach for little reason other than it was the land go his kin. Kin which, with each passing day, he was growing further apart from. And the hardship of being denied that intrinsic sense of belong from birth was something he had never quite learned to understand.

These weren’t really thoughts. They were feelings hidden just beneath the surface of consciousness, so powerful that if he had only dared to puncture though his black and white mind, he’d see all beautiful shades of grey. But it was far more easier for, the ever analytical, mage to compartmentalise life into rights, wrongs, and things that didn’t concern him. Instead he simply listened to Haneht’s story, taking little of it in really. There was only so much space in the filing system of his mind.

“Pretty things like me, eh? Well aren’t you just the charmer. Quite popular with the ladies, I’ll bet. Focus a little more on school than flirting, it’ll get you further.” Raeyn said dismissively. Still it wouldn’t hurt to entertain his questions.

But the question of his strange skin condition was one he’d been asked far too often. In fact, so very often that sometimes Raeyn entertained the idea of tattooing the words I DON’T KNOW on his forehead so that something else could do the explaining for him. He contained his frustrations however.

“These?” he mused, pulling a lock of white free from his braid and extending it before his own eyes, studying it closely in absent minded thoughtfulness. The brilliantly white, translucent strands glistened, like Leth’s opals, in the candlelight that illuminated the interior of the room. “I was born like this. Albeit in earlier years there was far less to if. Nobody has been able to explain it. But, well… it is what it is.”