She hadn’t expected the man to speak so that she could attempt to understand him. Most people jabbered at her, and when it was clear that she wasn’t capable of understanding their quick words, gave up and walked away. A couple times the Sunberthians had tried to take what they wanted, but the Kelvic did not push over easily. Kynier actually slowed his words, and used less of them. He spoke with words that she mostly understood, but still had to glean from his meaning. What had magic done to him? She hadn’t recognized the word, but she didn’t have time to ask, because he was now walking towards her. She uncrossed her arms, bracing them on the sill, reading his body language. It was not an attack, she could see immediately, but he treated her like she would react so, hand open and showing that he held no blade while he approached.
She waited until he got too close to her, trying to show her something in his eye. She looked, her sharp reflective gaze trying to focus on whatever he was showing her. He couldn’t possible have the same magic that the woman had, his eyes were brown. The iris was a bright complex hazel, but still the regular fare of human colors. But as she looked at them, she let her mouth gape slightly, a hunting habit she used as a lion to interpret scents better, but did not work in this form. She saw the iris of his hazel twisting around his pupil and realized that he also had magic of the eyes, perhaps not the same, but similar. She shut her mouth and took a deep intake of breath, curious if she could smell the magic on him. Other than the freshly washed cotton that spoke of his ease of life, she began to smell more. He liked birds, or perhaps was a falconer. He had a warm scent of something that reminded her of home, although she had no idea why. Where one lived had a great impact on their smells, and they tended to share the same strand with others in their dwelling. It was almost as if she could recognize the scent of his home, but could not place why it rung as familiar in her brain.
She nodded in recognition of the magic in his eye, and waited for him to step away, but he did not. The intense stare he had been watching her with from the other side of the room now had changed to scattered and distracted, he was watching something by her arm, and she wondered if his magic sight let him see things that she could not. Could he read her mind? Surely not, as he appeared to want to grasp something just next to the Kelvic, that had nothing to do with her mind. She watched, in slight fascination and slight disbelief, as he told her what he was seeing. So he could see that she was a Kelvic? If he hadn’t put that fact together at this point, he was stupid. But her time with the fortune teller had given her more belief than that, and so she had to assume he had seen it when he had first met her, which was why he had not reacted in fear when seeing her form for the first time.
At the mention of her broken bonds, he stepped away. It would have been a smart move if she had grieved the losses to the point of anger, but she had not. The thing that seized her chest when she thought too hard about Rufio caught her breathe again, and the Kelvic desperately tried to not let him see the agony that the reminder had caused her. She had almost lost her life after Jodoc, and she had no life without Rufio. If she was doomed to forever be alone, she was going to be in pain for the rest of her days. A frown dragged on her lips and an agonizing set upturned the insides of her brow, she wanted to escape from here, to escape from his magic gaze because she now knew she could not hide the agony this caused her. And she noticed the singular use of his words. He thought she had only been broken once, but she could not talk, the thing that tore at her heart seized her voice, and crumpled her shoulders. One hand flew up to stroke her amulet once again, but the movement did not offer the usual comfort. With her other hand she raised two fingers to correct him. Twice. She had felt the fullness and love of a bond twice. And she had been torn to shreds and reduced to nothing twice. She had so many physical scars, and the largest ones could not be seen.
There was a silence in the room, and Ixzo returned to look out the window, attempting to stuff the pain away as best she could. It was not a stone, but an infection, and cleaning it all up when it had been so violently released had always been difficult. She did not like how this conversation had went, and she did not like the perceptive eye of the man. But he called her attention again, this time attacking her amulet. She did not know the Common name for the necklace, just like she did not know what the word ‘saved’ had meant, but he pointed to her necklace, and her thumb paused where it rubbed the agate. With a slow and steady movement she turned her head back towards him, squinting as he commented something on magic. Did he think her necklace was magic? Perhaps he was stupid.
”No.” She answered curtly, unclasping the leather to be able to look at it, as if she hadn’t actually seen it in the three years she had worn it, nearly half of her life. If it had magic, surely she would have known? ”Drykas, no magic.”
It wasn’t quite true, she had found it after helping the Drykas search for the slavers that had infected the Sea of Grass, but she assumed it was of Drykas origin, and the horse was carved with the care that the Drykas people had for their horses, the horses that she could not get near let alone learn to love as well. And yet when the Kelvic got the piece, she assumed it as one of her greatest possessions, it’s value only increasing the further she reached from her last home. Still, she studied it once more, as if she did not know every millimeter of the thing, or how her thumb had flattened some of the detail on the front after three years of rubbing it whenever she felt slightly uncomfortable. She supposed he would tell her the truth, but she wasn’t sure how much he knew. ”How?” She asked, finally giving in.
Whatever he answered would remind the Kelvic of her question from earlier. What had ‘saved’ meant? What had magic done to him? ”’Saved’,”[/] She tasted the foreign word in her mouth. [b]”What that mean? Why magic?” She reiterated her earlier question, wanting an answer although she wasn’t confident she would be able to understand it entirely.
She waited until he got too close to her, trying to show her something in his eye. She looked, her sharp reflective gaze trying to focus on whatever he was showing her. He couldn’t possible have the same magic that the woman had, his eyes were brown. The iris was a bright complex hazel, but still the regular fare of human colors. But as she looked at them, she let her mouth gape slightly, a hunting habit she used as a lion to interpret scents better, but did not work in this form. She saw the iris of his hazel twisting around his pupil and realized that he also had magic of the eyes, perhaps not the same, but similar. She shut her mouth and took a deep intake of breath, curious if she could smell the magic on him. Other than the freshly washed cotton that spoke of his ease of life, she began to smell more. He liked birds, or perhaps was a falconer. He had a warm scent of something that reminded her of home, although she had no idea why. Where one lived had a great impact on their smells, and they tended to share the same strand with others in their dwelling. It was almost as if she could recognize the scent of his home, but could not place why it rung as familiar in her brain.
She nodded in recognition of the magic in his eye, and waited for him to step away, but he did not. The intense stare he had been watching her with from the other side of the room now had changed to scattered and distracted, he was watching something by her arm, and she wondered if his magic sight let him see things that she could not. Could he read her mind? Surely not, as he appeared to want to grasp something just next to the Kelvic, that had nothing to do with her mind. She watched, in slight fascination and slight disbelief, as he told her what he was seeing. So he could see that she was a Kelvic? If he hadn’t put that fact together at this point, he was stupid. But her time with the fortune teller had given her more belief than that, and so she had to assume he had seen it when he had first met her, which was why he had not reacted in fear when seeing her form for the first time.
At the mention of her broken bonds, he stepped away. It would have been a smart move if she had grieved the losses to the point of anger, but she had not. The thing that seized her chest when she thought too hard about Rufio caught her breathe again, and the Kelvic desperately tried to not let him see the agony that the reminder had caused her. She had almost lost her life after Jodoc, and she had no life without Rufio. If she was doomed to forever be alone, she was going to be in pain for the rest of her days. A frown dragged on her lips and an agonizing set upturned the insides of her brow, she wanted to escape from here, to escape from his magic gaze because she now knew she could not hide the agony this caused her. And she noticed the singular use of his words. He thought she had only been broken once, but she could not talk, the thing that tore at her heart seized her voice, and crumpled her shoulders. One hand flew up to stroke her amulet once again, but the movement did not offer the usual comfort. With her other hand she raised two fingers to correct him. Twice. She had felt the fullness and love of a bond twice. And she had been torn to shreds and reduced to nothing twice. She had so many physical scars, and the largest ones could not be seen.
There was a silence in the room, and Ixzo returned to look out the window, attempting to stuff the pain away as best she could. It was not a stone, but an infection, and cleaning it all up when it had been so violently released had always been difficult. She did not like how this conversation had went, and she did not like the perceptive eye of the man. But he called her attention again, this time attacking her amulet. She did not know the Common name for the necklace, just like she did not know what the word ‘saved’ had meant, but he pointed to her necklace, and her thumb paused where it rubbed the agate. With a slow and steady movement she turned her head back towards him, squinting as he commented something on magic. Did he think her necklace was magic? Perhaps he was stupid.
”No.” She answered curtly, unclasping the leather to be able to look at it, as if she hadn’t actually seen it in the three years she had worn it, nearly half of her life. If it had magic, surely she would have known? ”Drykas, no magic.”
It wasn’t quite true, she had found it after helping the Drykas search for the slavers that had infected the Sea of Grass, but she assumed it was of Drykas origin, and the horse was carved with the care that the Drykas people had for their horses, the horses that she could not get near let alone learn to love as well. And yet when the Kelvic got the piece, she assumed it as one of her greatest possessions, it’s value only increasing the further she reached from her last home. Still, she studied it once more, as if she did not know every millimeter of the thing, or how her thumb had flattened some of the detail on the front after three years of rubbing it whenever she felt slightly uncomfortable. She supposed he would tell her the truth, but she wasn’t sure how much he knew. ”How?” She asked, finally giving in.
Whatever he answered would remind the Kelvic of her question from earlier. What had ‘saved’ meant? What had magic done to him? ”’Saved’,”[/] She tasted the foreign word in her mouth. [b]”What that mean? Why magic?” She reiterated her earlier question, wanting an answer although she wasn’t confident she would be able to understand it entirely.
Word Count: 1,216
