Old January 20, 2018, 08:22 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Compass [PA to Trelore]It's Far Beyond A Star

Timestamp: Mid Summer, Era XXV Post Fractum

The Sea of Diana, in its ever shifting sparkling blue, was usually a soothing sight to gaze upon. In the warmth of summer particularly, the breeze that rolled in off the ocean was a welcome respite from the heavy heat of the suns. This day though, that far reaching expanse of water was daunting, and Calanon watched the horizon with no small amount of trepidation curling in his belly.

At his back, a bag containing what few things he thought might need in the days to come, at his hip the sword he was not oft without, and in his hand, he clutched the silver coin that was telling him that his path now lay across that vast sea. He unfurled his fingers from around the medallion, unwrapped the leather cord from where he’d twisted it around his palm and slipped it back over his head where it was tucked beneath his shirt. It would not let him forget that he had been called.

This time, he had dallied a while before he had acknowledged it, for he knew where it would lead him, and it was a greater journey than he had ever attempted before. And behind him he would be leaving more, which was some of his hesitancy. His gaze shifted sideways to Kailin at that, and she would see the worry there, drawing the lines of his face tight, aloof and hard in a way that she knew only heralded some turmoil beneath.

Leaving her, and their unusual little family- for what else could it be called-explained his reluctance to step aboard that ship.

Some of it

The rest was more bound up in where he was going, and it was that which set his skin tingling, stomach twisting in a blend of anticipation and apprehension. And contributed to him lingering on the shore when he could see the ship’s crew readying to set sail. If he did not move soon it would have gone without him, and then he would have some explaining to do to those who had summoned him.

His expression was pensive as he tugged at one of the bands of leather that lay under the cuffs of his shirt, each one threaded with a single bead that would hopefully ward off the sickness that would otherwise accompany him on this voyage. “ I hope they work”. It was something to say to fill the silence, for he hated the very notion of goodbye and was stubbornly refusing to speak anything approaching it, even as the shifting tides meant time for such was running out.

As if he felt the tug of the currents himself, Calanon turned toward her, his eyes lifting briefly over her shoulder to the few others that had bought their passage aboard.

Elves, like he, but then altogether not, with their fanciful colouring and strangely accented words. He felt less sure of himself than he might usually, for amongst them he would stand out, muted in comparison with his dark dark hair and eyes that called to mind the forest rather that the rainbow shades his Quel’anthasan cousins laid claim too. And though curiosity burned bright in the promise of seeing the land of his forebears, the Sylrosian could not help but wonder at the wisdom of his mentor in summoning him thus. His people were not known for their acceptance of others after all, even their own kind.

With that little niggle prickling uncomfortable under his skin, he searched the face of the one who had accepted him and for a moment, he absolutely was not going to go, fingers twisting tight with her own as if they would anchor him.

“Ta naa il- ikotane an y' coiasira, naa ta? Lye caela coie ner . It is not so long a time, is it? We have weathered more

But even as he said it, Calanon was aware of the different meaning of time to both of them. And whilst he was walking untrodden paths full of possibility, his love was rather keeping the home fires burning. Only they were fires that he had lit.

“ Do not doubt that I will make this up to you, liramaer.” They were only words, but he felt the need to let her know that heknew this was more than it was fair to ask. “ When I return.”

If this was truly part of his path, as written in the stars, then the All-Father better have a good reason for it. For all of it. Calanon sighed then, and it was a short embrace that was their farewell, though he held her tight enough that he might memorize the beat of her heart, carry it with him. It seared like a flame, and when he pulled away, he already felt the chill of its absence.

“Boe i 'waen” I must go. He had retreated again into that impassivity, for if he had not there was no way he would have been able to take his leave of her as he did, step onto that gangway and onto the ship beyond.
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Old January 28, 2018, 05:42 PM   #2 (permalink)
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What there was to say had already been said. Memories that were meant to linger and last had already been traced with lips and hands in repeating patterns that she could feel even now, the warm glow a map of reassurances laid in both tender affections and the searing need to mark and claim. They'd had brightenings to say their goodbyes this time, and Kailin had guarded her hours with Calanon as she jealously as she could afford to.

So the silence that stretched between them now was only natural. One of shared concerns rather than unspoken fears. Or so Kailin told herself as she glanced sideways, attention caught by the elf's hands unwinding the coin from where he'd wrapped it. Looking up from watching it slide back beneath his shirt, she blinked at the mask that drew stern lines across flawless features, then looked past it, into the beloved green of his eyes.

As he fiddled with his cuffs, and the bracelets he wore beneath them, she reached out to help adjust them, as much to be sure they would work as to satisfy a sudden need to touch him. To reestablish that connection one last time and remind herself that the walls he put up now were not meant to make her feel so alone in all of this. A reminder to see past into the doubt that looked out from behind the stiff formality that was his retreat.

Forcibly softening what tension she could feel in the clench of her own jaw, and in a tightness around her eyes that could not be blamed solely on the bright reflection of sunslight bouncing off of the water, she smiled as she shifted the bracelet until the small bead was on the underside of his wrist. Her fingers wrapped around it, gently pressing the bead into the sensitive tissues there, "just make sure they stay on properly, and push them if you start to feel ill."

A rueful cast stole into her eyes as she considered just how hard this journey might be for him. Into and across open waters where there was no land to be seen anywhere, the perfect circle of a horizon filled only with water and waves and whatever waited beneath. It would be nothing like the generally tamer journeys through coastal waters that he'd experienced before.

How grateful she was, then, for the knowledge that a single jump would bring him home safely should anything befall his ship. A luxury her mother had never had with her father, and one that gave Kailin further insight into the strength Imogen had shown over all the eras of goodbyes like this one.

His voice called her attention back to the present and she realized she was still holding his wrist. Fiddling with his cuff to pull it back over the leather band, she finally released him with a soft blush, only to feel his fingers twining with her own. "Il- ikotane an, n'uma. Ta nauva tereva, melamin.Not so long, no. It will be fine, love."

"And do not doubt that I will hold you it." A quirk of the lips then, for she would not be the only one to whom he would need to make amends for this absence. But the words were light, teasing, for she did she want him to worry over something he had little choice in. Her heart ached for all that he would miss while he was away, those things he had never had a chance to see or experience before, and Kailin hoped, for his sake as much as for her own, that this task would not keep him overlong.

It was faith then, that looked up at him as he took his leave, and only a small flash of anxiety as he pulled her in for one final embrace. And how funny, that. One could have all the experience in the world with such leave-takings, and yet never did they seem to get any easier.

As they parted, Kailin caught him around the elbow, fingers tightening just enough to make him delay for one more moment. Out of her pocket she took a thin silver chain, to which another small silver medallion was attached. Carved intricately into either side were symbols that would be familiar to the elf, who had so patiently watched her sketch them time and again. She turned her hand over so that the medallion would hang so he could see it, waiting to drop it into his open palm.

"It never hurts to court Markalin's favor when undertaking such a journey." As it spun slowly back and forth, he could see the familiar conch shell on one side, and on the other, the tool that he was less familiar with, but which Kailin assumed he would come to appreciate on his journey, should he but pay attention; the sextant. "For safe passage."

And then, as the length slithered out of her grasp into his hand, she brushed her lips once more across his and released his elbow, "Auta, a'maelamin.Go, beloved."

She would stay and watch as he boarded, one of the last to cross the gangplank. His tall form and raven hair made him easy to track as he made his way amidst those others of his kind, vivid and bright as they were. And if she felt a pang of unease at seeing the contrast, a sleek cat amongst the peacocks, it was for his sake. She could only hope he did not spend the long journey on his own, for she knew the reputation of Treloreans, and also how easy it would be for Calanon to fall back into old patterns, shutting down and building walls.

Then again, perhaps that would be for the best. In either case, it was not for her to worry about. So Kailin would simply stand and wait, acting as an anchor for her elf as the ship pushed off, maneuvered into the harbor, and eventually raised sails. When she gauged that Calanon could still see her, if only barely, she would wave before turning to head to the office and the work that awaited her. She'd never stayed to watch until her father's ships were out of sight, wanting to hold on to an image that still had him in it, and she could do no differently now.
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Old March 21, 2018, 10:02 PM   #3 (permalink)
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”Aye you don’t see that everyday Willaby, now do you?” A man with a curled back stuck his knuckles into his companion.

”No.” Willaby replied, though his attentions remained on the rope in his hand. He curled it around the dock cleat once, then twice, tying it off before bringing himself back to his feet. Liahal could see the pinch of resentment from his mouth as he finally caught sight of her, and his head followed like a pendulum as she approached closer. ”But its'a goo'thing she’s goin’ back'ta where she 'ame from, eh?” She was passing them now, and Willaby spat a brown swab of something at their feet. He gauged her reaction with a flat look, before giving the woman a wide, toothless grin. Liahal might wonder how in Aeternia the syllables could crash so forcefully into one another with no teeth to stop them, but her mouth remain closed, her chin held at height.

A lilac gem in a sea of dull and tarnish. A rolling wave of common was what sprinkled the docks, and Liahal among them. Her knuckles curled a little tighter around the polished stem of the parasol, flicking a glance back toward the duo before leaving them behind. And without a word. That was called self restraint. It was called poise and couth and refinement, and the Quel’anthasan was dripping in it, wasn’t she?

They had reached the hull of the Shameth Bell when Rauko began rousing within the waves of her hair. Tiny talons pulled tightly together, puncturing the fibers of the Quel’anthasan’s shirt, the tiny thing chirping her dissatisfaction. The nimrban was disheveled, eyes wide and chattering very loudly into the Quel’anthasan’s ear. ”You’ll be soothed, titta.” Her voice was thin, lacking the honey it usually carried when speaking to the animal. She stepped onto the gangplank, her footsteps falling crisply against the bridge, and the last thing that separated the woman from Aelyria, and well, beyond. ”It is but water, hm?” She tried to be reassuring, but the nimrban’s large eyes had found such grandiose dilation they could pass for very large saucers. Rauko peeled her back upward, hackles raised and needle-pointed nails biting into the flesh of Liahal’s shoulder.

It seemed Liahal Kard en’ Elentiri would be arriving to Trelore, (and in turn the Elentiri Gala) with the minute, fine lined lashings of the nimrban talon. But what was another blemish on lavender skin? She readjusted the nimrban to sit more securely on her shoulder, and her fingers grazed along the length of her neck, pulling her hair forward to conceal exposed skin.

There were some things, that required discretion.
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Old March 23, 2018, 09:07 AM   #4 (permalink)
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Not for the first time, Calanon found himself glad of how well Kailin knew him now, was grateful for the fact that she could read his disquiet and allowed him to retreat as he needed to. Still, even though he already began to draw himself away, it was hard, harder than he had anticipated to say the final farewell. He had to stop himself pushing her away after the brief embrace he allowed himself, and when she caught a hold of his arm, he looked up at her sharply, afraid that she was going to make the difficult impossible.

Brows drawn together, he watched as she drew from her pocket a pendant that caught the light as it spun on its chain. Long fingers caught it, stopped its rotation and the elf gazed at the symbols that he knew from her etchings, quiet as she explained herself and for a few beats after. When he did raise his eyes from the small silver disc back to Kailin, the ghost of a smile had broken through his defences,and he slipped it over his head to lie against his chest.

“ Amin laneuva neva cormamin, lirimaer” I will wear it close to my heart, lovely one. The fleeting kiss that she had intended lingered a little a longer then, for he was touched by the gift and told her so in more than words. It ruined all of his intentions and he felt the pull of their parting more keenly than he had hoped as his feet left solid ground for the unnerving sensation of wood upon water.

The Sylrosian found himself a spot on the quarterdeck where he hoped he’d be out of the way and watched with a growing sense of unease as the docks, and the figure of Kailin grew smaller and smaller, and the distance between he and dry land and all that he had come to call home, bigger and bigger. Heaving a sigh as she finally waved and disappeared from view, the elf looked up and took his first proper look over the few others who seemed passengers rather than crew. They were all Quel’anthasan elves, and Calanon found he rather disliked being in the minority, eyes skimming over his colourful cousins without lingering.

Until, that was, a certain shade of lavender caught his attention, and what had been a skirting glance became a closer observation as he examined the woman, questioning his recollections. The chittering of the nimrban, alien and out of place over the sound of the waves and the occasional creaking of the rigging was enough to stay whatever doubts he’d had, and there was an almost disbelieving snort that escaped the male. Of all the ships, in all of Telath.

“If it is not the elusive lavender tiger” he observed wryly. “ And her spawn of aeternia pet”. He had only laid eyes on the elfess once, and she had talked them into, or out of, a confrontation with some bandits. He had never quite decided which. The fact that she had hightailed it out of there and left him and Moss to deal with the fallout had not been forgotten though. But beyond that, as the male elf rested a scorching glance upon the nimrban, there were unanswered questions regarding the critter's involvement in a certain dream that was not a dream.....
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Old April 5, 2018, 11:10 PM   #5 (permalink)
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”Titta Rauko.” Liahal reprimanded, but the nimrban would have none of it. Liahal rolled her shoulder in an attempt to tousle the creature, but the Quel’anthasan was only met with tiny tooth and talon. It was not uncommon the duo would find themselves in scuffles such as this, each of them attempting to out-stubborn the other. Liahal pulled the nimrban by the scruff then, but Rauko’s grip tightened further, and the elf only succeeded in pulling her shirt up along with the tiny creature. Lia sighed, and finally surrendered Rauko back down onto a properly scraped shoulder.

Passing the main deck proved to be an uneventful affair. The crew was vastly Quel’anthasan, and shades of all hues passed her with casual glances and nods of acknowledgement. Liahal’s chin maintained an impressive height, her strides slow, deliberate. She was waiting, posturing as a show horse might present itself to be judged. High necked and stiff muscled, awaiting the ribbons and all the pride and admiration she was entitled to. A handful of sailors passed her as she rounded toward starboard side, Liahal responding with a flick of her head. Lavender hair shook free from her shoulders, cascading down her back in waves of violet and lilac. Praise me.

Only this fancily decorated display of hair waving and a most demure expression did not catch her a turn of a head. It did not even gift her a second glance. Being in the majority, surrounded by her own people might have come as a source of comfort to the woman once, but she wasn’t so sure now, when she was not something exotic. After all, there was no novelty to the color of her skin on a ship full of Quel’anthasan. She was not sure she liked it then, to not be looked at or admired. To not be worth a second glance. A lilac gem in a sea of… well, other jewels.

Lia tightened her mouth into a very thin line, if not only to keep the corners of her lips from drooping. She forced a bitter smile to the next couple crew members she passed, privately condemning them for not recognizing she deserved. She approached the rail of the ship, and her heart sunk a little lower in her chest until it sat heavy in the hollow of her gut. The melodrama of it all coerced her breaths into short, shallow gasps.

Weak smiles. False cheer.

The horizon was a lifetime away, and in between her and the end of the world was an expanse of vast, miserable emptiness. Her elbows were propped against the railing when she arrived, but now her arms curled around her. As if in defense. As if she might protect herself from the sudden loneliness that now swallowed her up, drowning her in a blanket of heavy, helpless darkness. Why was she feeling like this? What was it about the water below that made her want to escape, that begged her to just step on the railing and jump —

There was a rip in the weave of her emotion then, and something inside burst out of her just as quickly as it came. Liahal sucked in a gasp of air, appearing disheveled for just a moment as she pieced her own emotion back together. Her eye caught a man a few feet away, chin dipped and shoulders haunched, staring off into the watery distance with the same forlorn expression painted across his face. Oh.

Empathy did not always come easily, but the woman had always savored it. No matter what came to her. She was to address the wilting man and thank him for that little piece of him he shared. She was to ask, if he would close his eyes when he jumped, or if he would welcome death wide-eyed and eager. She would ask him if he was afraid, and then she would ask herself if he had lied. She would do all these things, if it had not been for the voice that addressed her.

And he called her by her favorite name. Her face was suddenly awash with amusement, and Liahal turned to the voice rosy cheeked and eyes glowing. Only upon finding the man’s eyes, her expression soured. This was not what she was expecting. But how could it be, she would have felt him well before he spoke to her. And she would have welcomed his feeling to, the uncomfortable unease he brought with him, and the way it made the tiny hairs of her neck stand up straight.

There were a few moments of silence, a rarity with the woman. She used the break in conversation carefully, racking her brain to place the man before realizing it had been the brief encounter in Medonia, so many moons ago. Her posture corrected herself, and the weight of her body rolled into the very balls of her feet so she could find her true height. ”I remember you taller.” She said, as wry as the driest of wines.

”You’ll forgive me if I have forgotten your proper name.” Or she could name him herself. She could call him Upright or Rude. She could call him something else that would make her mother blush and her father roll over in his grave. She smirked lightly at this, and it was accompanied by a gentle curtsy. Rauko stirred within her hair again, but Liahal was mindful to pull it back around her neck. ”What business do you have in Trelore?”
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Old April 10, 2018, 03:02 PM   #6 (permalink)
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The initial shock at the scathing acknowledgement from the elfess was only momentary. And as Calanon’s eyebrows lifted, he let his gaze sweep dismissively over the Quel’anthasan elf.

“Odd, as you seem much as I recall” Uppity he decided.” And I am quite sure you never had my name, so your ignorance is unsurprising” He did not offer it straight away either.

It came easily, the sharp tongue, and was a welcome distraction from the unease he felt on beginning this journey. He could exchange barbs with this woman instead of dwelling on all that he was leaving behind him. Or and he considered this as she affected a small curtsy, she could be at least one ally on this ship of strangers. Inclining his head, he was not given much chance to ponder it, for she was asking him a question. Calanon hesitated, undecided as to how much he wished to reveal.

Tucked beneath his shirt, Silevon’s medallion still glowed weakly, and that was the truth of his business in Trelore. He had been called. But he did not know this elf, had no reason to trust her - in fact, if anything the opposite was true- and so that secret remained with him, and his answer was evasive.

“Not business, Curiosity perhaps?”

After all, so little remained of what had been his home, his culture. Why not explore that from which it had derived..where it had started? It was what he had told himself when he felt most doubtful about this voyage, when he had sought consolation from the fact it was tearing him away from home for so long a time. His mentor had given him little in terms of what his purpose was in summoning the Syrosian to Trelore, and so Calanon had found his own reasons to stay at least some of his guilt. Still, there was no need for him to share all of that, and so he did not.

“What of you? Fleeing from some other situation of your making and leaving others to sort it out?”

The words were brittle, but there was no malice behind them. If he had wanted to, he could have left those woods in Medonia just as she had, but he was interested if she would bite, offer any explanation for that sudden disappearance. And then, and his eyes shifted toward the fall of lavender hair, there was the matter of that small creature. That small thing that had wreaked so much havoc when it had appeared.

Had he stumbled upon the nimrban and its whimsical keeper earlier that era , Calanon’s feelings on the matter would have been quite different. How his anger had seethed and roiled at the seeming injustice of everything. But that had been shock as much as anything else, and fear, for he had failed already in the task required of him. But now, though his life had been swept up in the chaos of the new arrivals, he found himself quite unable to resent whatever hand -or paw- the nimrban had in seeing things come to pass. Unconventional, unexpected their path had been, still he found himself quite altered by the tiny beings that had come into his world.

And how he would miss them, Kailin too.It was a physical pull almost and the Sylrosian looked away from his Quel’anthsan cousin, over the water to the horizon and all the unknowns that lay beyond it. That was his distraction this time.

“ You have made this trip often?” The question was sparse, and the elf’s demeanour offhand in its asking, but Cal looked to fortify himself and quiet the nervousness he had at the crossing itself. If she could do it, then he was damned if he was going to be so daunted.
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Old June 18, 2018, 10:36 PM   #7 (permalink)
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He seemed… Less than impressed with Liahal. Maybe it was his mind that was busy, the reason his gaze looked distractedly over her, looking toward her perhaps but never really pausing to see the Quel’anthasan. A shame. She saw him. She saw his dark hair, the way it tousled with the ocean wind. The furrow of his brow, gentled by deep green eyes and lined thick with lashes.

So when he spoke, it emanated the smallest of frowns. Dejected, dispirited. Or was that still the aftertaste of the man, so ready to jump? Sometimes Liahal did not know where her own feeling ended and the others began. She was so used to taking it seemed, the lines began to smudge together, and sometimes things lingered with her, while others left her empty.

The temptation to sate her curiosity parted her lips to speak, to ask why and to ask how. To ask the elf to describe her in thorough, rich detail. How did he recall her? She tipped forward, weight balanced in her toes now, as if eagerly awaiting this description. But it never came, and instead his words were short, and they were curt. And if her body recoiled slightly, well, hopefully a painted, pleasant expression was enough to displace it.

”Well…” The single word puffed out of her with a sigh. ”I’d like to posess it still, regardless.” She pressed a wrinkle from her blouse, fixing herself to look… busy.

”Perhaps, you’d find it in your interests to learn of Trelorean propriety before you—“ Soil, was what she wanted to say. ”— visit my home. I’ll teach you toror’brother, because I am kind.” The syllables were both sweet and salty. If there was one thing the Quel’anthasan was practiced in, it was thinly vieled venom. ”You’ll call me Liahal Kard en I’Elentiri.” She tipped her head to him, expectantly.

”I appreciate curiosity.” It was what made her wander from her home too. ”You are in for a surprise.” Some of the rigidness of her body left her shoulders, as if just the memory of Talelena could coax her into softness. Previously guarded eyes were brighter when she looked at him next. ”We are delicate and strange in Trelore. That is what they tell us.” Rauko chirruped in her ear, and Lia leaned into the creature, but a sweet moment was cut short with more of the Silrosian’s prickly words.

“Yes.” She replied. Lies rolled a little easier off the tongue the more she told them, and this one slipped out of her mouth and into the world carefree and breezy. “Do you suppose seven cycle will be enough time for them to sort it out? How long did it take you?” She smiled, tilting her head so that she might better gauge his expression. The truth was, the lie was often easier than the truth. It was often more pleasant, too.

”More than once.” She said, truthful this time. In the three eras since moving to the empire, she had made the trek back home three times. One, to bring her Theodallion to her mother. Another, for her father’s death. And now. She tried swallowing the anxiety down and away, but it had a way of creeping back up her throat. It seemed with every trip back to Talelena, she was less inclined to step off the dock.

When Lia brought herself back to her company, his gaze had drifted somewhere over the horizon. ”Do you often get lost with what is so very far away toror’? Her eyes trailed his, over the water and toward the first sun as it started its gradual creep underneath the horizon. Such a very vast, immeasurable distance away. ”…is there not beauty right in front of you?” Her elbows leaned against the wooden railing, but her head turned to address him. To catch the reaction in his eyes or the quirk of his mouth.

Rauko roused within her hair again, decidedly fussed about something. It did not take the nimrban very long before she caught sight of Calanon, and the petite creature sniffed the air to be sure.

A third sniff was all she needed, and Rauko launched her tiny cream body at the taller elf, landing with a barely audible clink! as tiny talons pierced the Calanon’s shirt and scraped against his hidden medallion. The nimrban scrambled upward to Calanon’s neck, rubbing her face against the side of his cheek and ears.

Much to Liahal’s chagrin, of course.

”I — “ It was not often Liahal was left searching for the words. It was not often Rauko took to strangers, either. ”She does not usually care for men.” She watched, half horrified, as Rauko purred against his hair, seemingly entirely unaware of the water that was previously so frightening. Further, Rauko appeared much more comfortable than she had ever been while perched on Liahal.

Lia’s brows furrowed as she witnessed this, and she was inclined to scrape the tiny thing off Calanon when she saw it.

Faint, silvery scars dimpled the Silrosian’s neckpulled this from your CIR, tell me if they don’t exist anymore and I’ll edit. Liahal’s head twitched sideways, blinking a couple more times, confirming if what she really saw was what she had thought she saw.

Perhaps it was in her best interests, to keep him close. ”There’ll be a game of cresle in the galley in half a candlemark.” She tried telling his eyes, but her gaze kept flicking to his neck. ”You’ll play?”
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Jun 21, 2017: 20:56 RosieKyrillos: you ALWAYS get the power


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Old June 21, 2018, 05:56 AM   #8 (permalink)
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It was subtle, the minor deflation of that puffed up import that he saw as his words landed, and he could not deny he found some satisfaction in it. It was galling really, one who had been involved in such disruption to his life, to everything.

And she didn’t even know his name.

Calanon might have delivered it just then, slick with the bitterness that small thought had provoked, but he was stalled by her own, and it was gifted with a poorly disguised disdain.
Well then. He had forgotten she was clever and whiley with words, and that he had appreciated it, enjoyed it even, when she had first come across he and his friend all those months ago. There was a cant of his head in her direction as he returned the introduction.

“Calanon Siluvanade”.

Of course, he knew her name now, for Niven had revealed it. And other things too, that made him view the Trelorean with equal parts interest and caution. So yes, he was guarded with his reasons, but it seemed not to bother Liahal, and he simply quirked a brow at her assertions. He was quickly forming his own opinion of his colourful cousins after all. Perhaps he should ask her when it was considered polite to bring up the fact that she had ruined her friend’s marriage before it had begun. And then the wedding too, just to be certain? His hands curled at his sides, but the elf bade himself to keep his cool. It was a skill that had eluded him for many eras, but now, finally, he seemed to be on his way to mastering.

“Not as long as that” he answered later,thinking of Medonia. And then of course his thoughts shifted to whatever role she had played in that other forest, and he was biting his tongue again.

Blinking, he refocused on the woman, and there was even a soft chuckle.Modesty,it seemed, was not a trait worn by Quel’anthasan elves. And because she had all but instructed it, he let his gaze slide over the elfess, giving her the attention she seemed to crave.

“ Do you seek flattery, arwenamin? I am not sure it is needed. You seem well aware of your blessings.”


He might have said more then, were it not for the blur of movement and the scrabble of tiny claws at his shirt, and Calanon suddenly found himself assailed by the very same nimrban that had caused such upheaval. He froze ,even as the creature sidled up against his neck, for it was a vivid reminder of what had provoked his disapproval of the lavender hued elf at his side, now looking at him as if he had somehow wronged her, or her infernal pet.

“Well, we are old friends, aren’t we” he bit off, glowering at Liahal. She should look abashed. “You have it well trained. What trickery is it bestowing this time?” Perhaps it was how she amused herself, sending her pet out to cause chaos. The Sylrosian grit his teeth at the thought, for whilst he would not change it now….well, there had been times…...

Reaching up to detach the nimrban from his neck, Calanon was preparing to express all of this ,only, he paused in his movements at the unexpected invitation, distracted by the flickering gaze of the other so he wondered what had caught her eye.

“I am not sure” he replied testily, thinking that below deck might be more temptation to the sickness which had so far let him be. Nor did he know if he felt comfortable enough to engage with the rest of the elves on board, and not with this purple princess, when there were so many words sitting on the edge of his tongue. What a voyage he had to look forward to.

Assuming that Liahal’s attention was drawn by the movements of her pet, Cal scooped the tiny creature up in his hands, stepped toward the elfess and offered it back to her. “ Here. I have no want for any more gifts from this one. No potions, no nothing. You should take it back before I pitch it into the sea.” He would not of course, for it was not the creature’s fault, it had done its mistress’ bidding. But his expression was hard, his voice steel enough that Liahal might not know that.
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Old August 8, 2018, 05:19 PM   #9 (permalink)
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Her knees bent gently, chin dipping toward her chest with a bow. It was a casual thing, the bow, something her father might have reprimanded her for once. But the eras in Aelyria had diluted some of the more rigid Quel’anthasan customs. ”Calanon.” She repeated it, committing the name to memory. She had collected many names in her short time on Telath, but never a Calanon. It sounded definitive. Brusk maybe. It suited him.

It would not be honest to say Liahal was not curious about Calanon and his human companion’s time in Medonia after she took her leave. She wanted to ask him if they had ever made it to the wagon, and what was kept inside it. She wanted to ask what they drank at the tavern afterwards, and if Calanon ever saw what the Ponytail Bandit hid under that stupid mask of his.

But if there was anything her lessons in propriety taught her, it was that eagerness was not an attractive thing. Not for a lady. Not for a Quel’anthasan born to her position. And so she’d sidestep away from the temptation, dipping her toe into the conversation but never fully committing to the plunge. ”No. Of course not. Not for a Calanon Siluvanade. There was extra emphasis on that definitive name of his, and the grin on her face gave way to her teasing. Perhaps she would never know what happened that day in Medonia. And while she would not ever be at peace with this, she could hastily forget, drowning herself easily in other curiosities.

Unfortunate for Lia, she was the one not present when Calanon finally did give her all of his attention. The horizon enveloped her this time, and the clouds streaked with color and a brilliant warmth. It was no wonder, that the sunrise captured the eye of so many. ”Yes.” She said quickly, and without hesitation. The sunrise would have to wait. ”I seek many things, few of which I need.” Since when did necessity dictate what was appropriate for what one desired? Was the sunrise, aware of it’s blessings? Surely.

She moved to make this point, but was interrupted by the whir of fur and talon. Calanon became rigid instantly, but if Rauko could feel the elf’s discomfort she paid it no mind. Liahal’s mouth gaped at his sarcasm. Even for someone who was not interested in keeping pets, the extreme objection toward the nimrban’s advances were unexpected. Old friends? Rauko had barely given the elf a second glance in Medonia, let alone the time it took to be friendly. ”If the raukodemon could be trained, my pockets would be much heavier toror…” She trailed off, losing her train of thought as Rauko continued to nuzzle against the elf’s neck.

Rauko had always been choosy with her affection, often only saving her tenderness for when she was ill or very tired. Now, was neither of those times. ”Do you have sweets on you?” The question was meek, as if the Quel’anthasan had been just been betrayed. Liahal did not ever need to leech jealousy. The girl had plenty of her own. Calanon’s jaw tightened, and Liahal felt compelled to neutralize the tension. ”She cannot resist them.” Surely, what Calanon hid in his pockets was the attraction.

Sensing hands closing in, Rauko took Calanon’s hesitation to skitter to his opposite shoulder. It was clear that if the nimrban was to be caught, she was not going to make it easy.

Lia was prepared to answer him with what she thought of indecision, but now it was Lia’s turn to tighten her jaw now, and she was suddenly compelled to retract her invitation and tell him off instead. For the unwarranted rudeness toward her and her Rauko. For his ungratefulness, for taking Rauko's gifts of affection for granted.

She scooped Rauko up as gently as her temper would allow, and hugged the nimrban tight against her chest. How could the man be so callous, so cruel? Rauko struggled within her grasp, trying desperately to latch onto the man again, which of course, made it all the worse. She had encountered those who did not favor animals, her own betrothed among them. But Theodallion had never once shown such disdain for Rauko, not when Liahal was standing right in front of him. ”How can you call yourself a Silrosian?” She spat, clutching onto Rauko's middle a little tighter than necessary. A defensive move, surely.

”I am trying my best to accept that you empire elves do things differently in Aelyria, but I will not tolerate such cruelty toward one of Carmelya’s children.” She huffed. ”I might have advised you to be careful with who you cross in Trelore, Calanon Siluvanade, but I expect you will learn faster if I show you.” She dismissed herself then, stopping short a few steps away before she swung around for the last word.

”Good luck.”
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Jun 21, 2017: 20:56 RosieKyrillos: you ALWAYS get the power

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Old August 21, 2018, 05:01 PM   #10 (permalink)
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His jaw flexed at the way she lingered over his name, for Calanon was only too aware of the import his Quel’anthasan cousins could set upon such things. Though, he could not imagine his name would mean much to any of them. And just as Liahal did not reveal anything more of what had become of her in Medonia, neither did the Sylrosian offer her any further insight. They both played their cards close to their chests as if uncertain of the other.

Perhaps it was wise, for the sudden appearance of the nimrban made it all but impossible for Calanon to quiet the indignation he felt at the thing’s -and therefore Liahal’s- involvement in his tryst with Niven and all that had come of it. How she could just stand there and chat to him as if nothing had happened?. And despite his best intentions to be civil, his temper ran his tongue as it oft did when he was under pressure.

It did not escape him that it was a fair enough indication that further practice was warranted when it came to inner calm and control.

Still, his ill mood was met with a rival in the acerbic words that the elfess threw back as she wrapped the nimrban in a protective grasp and Calanon looked momentarily abashed by her rebuke, before reality reasserted itself and he found himself only further incensed by the affront, by the threat that whispered through false well wishes..

Righteous indignation bubbled up and over and green eyes scorched a gaze that would not be dampened by all the water that surrounded them.

Good luck?

“You are quick to call upon the Gods when you seem only too happy to play at being one, interfering in things that you have no place in” he hissed in reply, taking a half step toward her, not willing to let her walk away as if she were the wronged party, but equally not wanting to cause a scene. “ And to what end? For your own amusement? Do you care so little for your friend to see her happiness ruined so?”

She cared not a jot for him, that was true. But Niven? Calanon shook his head. “Perhaps, if you are any example of how Treloreans behave, then I have made a terrible mistake”.

And he thought it might be true then as he spun away, for how was he to endure this entire voyage caged in the confines of a ship with her.
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