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Post by Sabreíl on Oct 5, 2014 21:20:09 GMT -5
The crisp, cool, mountain air filtering in through the slight cracks in the window chilled the room pleasantly as Sabreíl went about the work of unpacking. The Mountain Spring Inn was not in the best of repair, but the rooms were large and affordable: scuffed, peeling paint and spidery cracks in the window glass only added to the quaint ambiance that the Inn afforded its guests. Its amenities were more than enough for the simple Oracle and her travelling companion, especially considering that the doorways were high enough that Sabreíl didn’t hardly have to duck through them, a feature greatly appreciated by the over seven foot tall woman.
Sabreíl packed her armor tightly into a large wardrobe, carefully covering the plate-mail of the Narenth Casus with the canvas shoulder-bag that usually held her traveling supplies. The Oracle had opted to stroll about the town in a green tunic and grey slacks instead of full warrior regalia - even her sword would keep in the wardrobe. Sabreíl wasn’t expecting any action while within the resort town’s boundaries, but she did have the sense to keep a fairly hefty steel dagger strapped to her belt as an anti-theft deterrent nonetheless. Once she had fit everything neatly inside, Sabreíl secured the wardrobe doors with a small steel padlock and tucked the key into her coin purse. The woman felt strange without her armor on – it had been such a long time since she had let herself relax that the its plates had begun to feel like a second skin.
A foolish notion, considering that our power is much greater than could ever be held within forged steel. We’ve had this conversation, remember? Giant displays of magic tend to attract the wrong kind of attention. Besides, it’s not a great example to set for Jera. I still do not comprehend your reluctance to school her in the mystical arts, child. You and Verus both are of the same mind in that matter, though why you should deprive the young one of possible defenses I will never understand. Both Verus and yourself, as well as our enemies, benefit from such knowledge, why should Jera not also?
Sabreíl sighed to herself as she stood up and moved away from the wardrobe, walking over to the small bedside desk in order to count and package the money she would need for her next outing. She will undoubtedly be capable of using magic someday, but you know that kind of power can be temperamental, and shouldn’t be relied on exclusively. When Jera has a very solid ability to defend herself, both physically and magickally, then we’ll see about teaching her more. We promised her father we would teach her, but also look after her – she’s still too young to handle that kind of power without bringing misfortune on herself, even if just through attracting the wrong kind of attention.
The woman quickly sifted through the coins she had accumulated since arriving in town. The moneylenders were surprisingly generous with their bartering – the Oracle hadn’t anticipated that the few precious stones she had collected in the mountains and a handful of spare weapons and clothes could amount to so much coin. Collectively, Sabreíl had enough for all the supplies they needed plus enough extra left over to allow them to stay in Tamryn for at least three or four days. If the woman could keep Jera mostly in check and not indulge in too many lavishly-priced cocktails at one of the taverns there might even be enough left over to buy a horse for transporting the supplies, which would save Sabreíl and her student the effort of hauling everything back up the mountain on their backs.
You have grown surprisingly responsible within these past months. I wonder if such can be attributed to Verus’ presence or the responsibility of caring for a youngling? Sabreíl snorted as she attached the purse to her belt and reached for the door. Does it frustrate you that Verus might just be a better role model than you are? Whether she could be considered ‘better’ is a point open for debate – however, I do believe you are more receptive to her influence due to the circumstances of her accompaniment. Right, so I don’t listen to you because I am stubbornly holding it against you that we share headspace – its totally not because we share headspace and I therefore get a firsthand look at all of your glaring intellectual flaws. I believe that is a fair assessment, yes. The whole concept of sarcasm still escapes you, huh?. No, I understand when you attempt to apply it. It is, however, a substandard form of humor, and therefore I choose to ignore its implementation. You are just so impossibly enlightened, aren’t you Mithria? Indeed I am, despite what your comedic inflection is meant to imply. . . .
Sabreíl couldn’t help but let a smile spring to her features as she traveled down the stairs, absentmindedly reaching behind her head to tie back her long, curled red hair with a stiff green ribbon. Mithria’s personality was intractable, but as time went on, the Oracle’s primary consciousness had become more at ease with the Goddess’ presence in her mind. Not too long before she had been overly concerned with the fact that she never got any peace and quiet inside her own head, but now she and her mental companion had found some kind of friendly equilibrium, an understanding that allowed them both to be complacent in their forced cohabitation. For the most part, Mithria was a passenger and overseer to Ilyssa’s actions, but the Goddess had stepped in to save the Nephilim from certain death too many times to count. In a way, her presence gave Ilyssa a real sense of security, and along with that security came a driving sense of moral purpose. The two definitely had disagreements of general methodology, but they were now united more completely than Ilyssa had ever previously thought possible.
Sabreíl smiled and waved pleasantly at the boy manning the front desk of the Inn as she walked through the lobby, skillfully moving around arriving guests and ducking carefully to step out the door and into the bright white mountain sunlight. Tamryn was a beautiful town, and the Oracle had always enjoyed being in its tranquil boundaries, either in the one life or the other. Sabreíl glanced either way down the street and took stock of what was nearby, wondering how Jera was faring in her task – the Oracle had sent her to buy herself one or two new sets of clothing and new boots in order to get her through the next few months while Sabreíl took care of setting up the room, but by now she should have been back. Sabreíl wasn’t worried about the girl within the city bounds, and she knew she should cut Jera some slack over the next few days – she had been working very hard and made a great deal of improvement, and therefore deserved a little rest and relaxation. Sabreíl herself needed much of the same, and as she set off down the street in the direction of the general goods store the Oracle kept a close eye out for a good watering hole for later. The Blooming Orchid – that sounds familiar. A quaint name for a tavern. It seems respectable enough. What, no lecture about the evils of imbibing alcohol today? I have observed you long enough to know that they will fall on deaf ears. However, with Jera to watch over, I am confident you will not get carried away.
Sabreíl snickered to herself as she walked. You sound like my grandmother: ‘when you have kids of your own, you’ll be the proper woman I raised you to be’. I would never go so far as to call you proper. I do think more highly of your responsibility level since Jera’s arrival, however. I know. Nana was right. Too bad she’s not alive to say I told you so.. Indeed. I suppose I will have to say it for her, then, at the right time. As if you needed to wait.
The general store was not far and seemed not to be terribly crowded. Perhaps after she was done arranging the delivery of their needed supplies, Sabreíl would see if she could track down Jera. Or, alternatively, the Oracle might just spend some time walking the streets, enjoying the mid-afternoon bustle while she could. It was an oddly-satisfying feeling to be among civilization again: Sabreíl knew she should enjoy it while it lasts . . .
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Post by Jera on Oct 6, 2014 16:24:58 GMT -5
Jera paused as she looked over her reflection in the full-length mirror. It had been months since she'd been able to stop and actually note the physical changes she'd been vaguely aware of: there were no mirrors in the Forests she'd been training in and streams were a poor substitution. It was the first in her very short time in being a teenage girl that she didn't immediately turn to the side to scrutinize the curve of her bottom against the narrowing of her waist or the heft of the curves of her breasts against the line of her back. She focused on the bright gold of her eyes first, having forgotten how vibrant the color was against the olive tones of her skin. The lines of her face had changed subtly, she noticed. It wasn't just a difference in how she wore her hair. There were hollows beneath her cheekbones that had never been present before; definition in her jawline making her face seem a little less round. Her entire body was tighter and compact rather than plump─ a testament to the rigorous and physically demanding boot camp Sabreíl subjected her to. Her curves hadn't seemed to suffer, she noted with a bit of pride. If anything, her breasts seemed more pert and her hips were slightly more exaggerated for all the new muscle tone in her thighs and abdomen. Now she made a half-turn, measuring how the curve of her backside had changed. The corners of her mouth quirked upward as she was rather pleased to note some definitive lift as well as a slimmer profile of her back. Even the backs of her upper arms had a solidity that had never been present. And, of course, after the brief round of positivity came the inevitable crash and burn of her newly found confidence. Both gloved hands shook the heavily textured fringe and face-framing white hairs, smoothing them down in a way meant to minimize the dark stripes marring the sides of her face and giving some indication to her racial heritage. That she stood in front of that mirror completely naked with the exception of gloves and socks spoke volumes about how she felt about her more prominent racial markers. That she couldn't easily cover the same thin stripes running up the outside of both legs and down the sides of either arm and examine her body at the same time was a source of frustration.
It was good then, that the mountain climate they trained in was so cold. She would have hated to cover up all those things that clearly marked her as “other than human” in warmer weather.
With her eyes downcast and refusing to watch her reflection anymore Jera got dressed and sorted through the pieces she'd brought into the shop's fitting room, choosing carefully with the coming winter in mind. In the end she went with fitted, heavy trousers in dark green meant to be tucked into tall boots, a couple of long-sleeved hooded tunics colored in a lighter blue-green as well as a richer sky blue, and a pair of hardy black leather gloves that would be her backup for the ones she currently wore. Everything matched what she already had and she could choose to wear her well-constructed albeit looser clothing in conjunction with the cold weather tunics or not. Sabreíl would approve of her simple tastes, she thought, forcing herself not to think about the finer fabrics and more revealing gowns the tailor had to offer. When she paid at the counter and came in under her set budget she couldn't help but smile. Maybe she'd splurge just a little at the tanner's shop and have a subtle design etched into the leather of the boots she needed. Jera thanked the shopkeeper and gathered her carefully-wrapped parcels before exiting the store and heading in the direction of the leather-working shop she'd noticed earlier. . .
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Nov 8, 2014 21:36:14 GMT -5
Location: South-Eastern Foothills, approximately ten miles outside of Tamryn Holdings
Alissia Syrkhan stepped carefully across the snowy expanse of the hillscape outside Tamryn, her eyes fixated on the ever-moving expanse of white ground directly in front of her feet. She knew it must have fallen here somewhere – her weapon, a relic of a life she had long-since left behind, but nonetheless still a treasured possession, had been lost during her last visit to Tamryn, Alissia herself having used her power to throw it out and away from the town in the hope of keeping it from ending up in the wrong hands. It had been months since that day, and so much snow had fallen throughout the hills in that period of time that the woman was wading through white powder that rose to her waist, a piled-on obstacle that significantly lowered the chances of locating her prize. As she went over the events of her last visit to the town, Alissia felt her mind seize with the fire of her anger: if it hadn’t been for that bitch, she wouldn’t have lost her weapon in the first place.
Fureya!
The internal scream of hatred caused the Syrkhan to stop in her tracks and take a breath, her fists clenching as she sought to suppress the anger that threatened to take her over. Ever since she had learned the woman’s name it had become a lit match that ignited the pressurized gas of her hatred whenever it was brought to the forefront of her mind. Alissia had tried greatly over the past months to put that anger in check so that she could focus on the task at hand. Overall, her efforts had been successful . . . partly.
In truth, if it weren’t for the abominable Fureya, Alissia would have no reason to return to Tamryn at all. The woman’s escape from her holding cell in Lu’Rae had been due entirely to the appearance of some blood-magic monstrosity who had managed to spirit both the woman and Alissia’s wayward brother, Dragos, to parts unknown. The assault in the midst of the Syrkhan stronghold had been an affront punishable by death in and of itself, but the theft of two valuable prisoners heightened the priority of finding them all and bringing them, the creature included, back to face judgment. In that, the mission had been set, but past the knowledge that the creature and Fureya had been in Black Son Empire some years before and managed to murder the captain of the guard in a public forum,combined with what information the Emperor himself could impart having once fought the creature at length, their intelligence was limited. They did not even have a name for the creature, which made obtaining more information as to its origin or whereabouts extremely difficult. All they had to go on is what was known about Fureya, which boiled down to the fact that she had been often seen in and was somehow connected to Tamryn.
At this, Alissia had suggested that Vascxious Sigma be the place to start looking for Fureya and her companions given its close association to Tamryn. Others were there now, searching, but Alissia had assigned herself to backtrack first through Tamryn on her way to joining the search in Vascxious Sigma, hoping not only to find some more useful information about those they were searching for, but also with the alterior motive of reclaiming her weapon.
Alissia stretched out with her Magi, using its swirling presence around her as a sixth sensory apparatus, feeling through the dense snow in search of her weapon. Over the past months, the youngest child of the Marru'Khyran Emperor had become extremely well-acquainted with her own power, and in a short time had gained control over and experience with her mystical life-force in leaps and bounds. While she had not yet achieved Fusion, her nightly ritual of hours-long meditative exploration and half-successful attempts at it had left her with a much greater store of Jha'Syrkhyr than she had possessed when she arrived in the Capital, causing the force to naturally extend from her physical body into a field that spanned two feet from her center in all directions, allowing her to extend her power within that small, short range of space. Soon, she knew she would be able to far greater feats, and when she did she would be able to crush Fureya embarrassingly and bring the bitch back to her father in chains. Alissia relished the thought, using the image of her triumphantly trampling the silver-haired woman under her heel to combat the intense anger that she felt when the Assassin’s name entered her mind. She knew she would triumph – the last two times she just hadn’t been adequately prepared. As enticing as the image was, however, it didn’t do nearly enough to sate her mounting frustration.
Where is it!
Alissia had scoured the area where the rifle should have fallen for hours – she was confident that, had it still been there, she would have found it. That meant someone else had it, and the bile in her throat bubbled like acid as she considered the possibility that Fureya herself might have managed to retrieve it.
The anger that coursed through her body extended to Alissia’s inborne power source, and she let out a scream of frustration and hatred that echoed through the unpopulated hills and made the literal ground beneath her feet shake, the stone cracking and splintering as miniature fault lines spread rapidly like cracks in glass, spidering away from her feet to race throughout the nearby landscape.
”That Bitch! I’m going to rip that wretched whore limb from limb when I find her!”
The sudden, swirling maelstrom of Alissia’s power immediately began to deconstruct the solid ground beneath her feet, melting a clearing of snow away in a matter of seconds to expose the already-fractured ground to the open air, that ground in-turn beginning to crumble and break apart. The jagged stone snapped into fist-size fragments that floated freely upward into the air, caught in the deconstructive currents of the Syrkhan's personal force of emotion. Soon enough, Alissia was standing in her own personal crater, her body positioned at the center as if it were a small meteor that had crashed down from the heavens with fiery fury. Seeing the effects of her anger, Alissia inhaled sharply and set to work suppressing herself. Alissia gritted her teeth, but as she cleared her mind the floating, jagged stones settled back to earth. The loss of the weapon was a blow to her personal sense of nostalgia and, admittedly, her self-esteem, but the woman recognized that it made no real difference to the scope of her mission. While she had always maintained a great hunger to reclaim her property, as Alissia had grown more and more cognoscente of the power of Jha'SyrKhyr she had begun to see the intricate mechanical design of the firearm as simplistic and faulty. Once, Alissia had relished her power over the mechanical and delighted in her own accomplishments at taming and improving it, but as though her blind eyes had been made to see, now Alissia could envision all the ways in which the firearm was fundamentally flawed.
Perhaps the youngest Syrkhan could reinvent the entire idea of the projectile weapon with what she now knew, fundamentally improving it. As she had advanced in her training, Alissia had discovered that her affinity for tinkering with machinery and technology had easily carried over to the constructive power of Jha'SyrKhyr itself, and among her abilities, physical creation had become a blossoming skill of hers. If she had an elemental affinity, as all SyrKhyr where thought to have, Alissia thought herself to be attuned with the earth, because reshaping its basic components using Magi was something that came to her easily and naturally. As she calmed, this line of thinking allowed the woman to refocus and temporarily write-off the weapon, though the nostalgic part of her mind cried out in shame as she did so. She would make a better one, one more attuned to her current existence, and one that would decimate her enemies in ways they would never expect. Alissia smiled at the thought and readjusted the hood of her jacket, turning toward Tamryn. She’s leave the search for her weapon behind and turn to her real mission – maybe then at least she could more easily keep her anger from taking over.
Location: Tamryn Holdings – Main Street
Alissia pulled her coat more closely around her, mimicking the actions of a well-borne female tourist walking five feet in front of her. Tamryn’s main street was crowded – it was still midday, and the climate was just chilly enough that the winter tourism season had begun in earnest. For the moment it was those tourists, many of whom were Vascxious Sigma natives, with which Alissia hoped to blend. The women walking near her matched the Celesin operative’s chosen style almost exactly – long, grey and white winter coats with fur linings, sturdy, well-built boots, and white, white hair - long and carefully styled into elegant, tumbling ivory cascades. Three out of the four women in the group were tow-headed: Alissia thanked the Goddess for her luck that the Sigma City’s elite had decided that the personal style of the most elegant of the city’s Counselors, Floraelia Devinian, was all the rage at the moment.
With her white hair and light eyes, Alissia could have easily passed for a Vascxious Sigma native on holiday, especially with the lavish black fur-lined coat she had coopted from one of the Capital's stores. The coat had been a perfect choice, both for its relevance to the current fashions and its ability to hide her black combat bodysuit, the woman's only other accouterment, beneath its lavish folds. Alissia had remembered to take the Marru'Khyran insignia off of her clothing and the one shoulder-bag she carried with her, though her combat gear packed inside still bore her family's crest: it was better for the woman to be seen as a Vascxious native than an odd interloper from the sky city. As long as she could physically blend in, Alissia wouldn’t have a hard time convincing anyone she was from the Sigma City considering that, in truth, she was - a fact that made her perfect for the mission of tracking the Empire’s enemies in the Trade City. But first, Alissia had to see what kind of information she could dig up on Fureya, and she knew the perfect pace to start. The Blooming Orchid is where she had stayed the last time she was in Tamryn, and it was in that exact establishment’s bar where she had first encountered Fureya. By the way the woman had taken her own table, far from the usual bustle of tourist bar patrons, Alissia found it likely that the woman had been a regular, and that meant there might be some information to be gathered from other regular patrons. Alissia made her way through the streets to the Orchid, and when she arrived, she would request a room and set up shop.
Alissia had given herself a time limit: she had three days to find a lead. If nothing substantial turned up, she would pack her things and be on her way to the Sigma city, which since she had not yet learned how to instant transport, would mean either walking or catching one of the civilian shuttles. Alissia planned to make the most of her given time however, and therefore once she settled her belongings in her rented room, the Operative would venture back down Main Street in order to purchase much-needed additional supplies. First, Alissia intended to trade out her boots – the combat-style that she had brought from Marru'Khyr did a poor job of blending in the cold climate. From there, it would be off to the bookstore, a very well-established, multi-story repository of tomes that had a great section on history and, with any luck, might have some books she could pore through overnight in search of information about Fureya’s mysterious blood-borne companion.
After returning the supplies to her room, Alissia would spend the rest of the night in the Blooming Orchid’s tavern, talking to patrons about the silver-haired Bitch someone was sure to recognize. The young woman smiled as she turned the corner and spotted the Orchid – it would be a long, fruitful trio of days. Alissia would find who she was looking for and, with great care, beat the woman to within an inch of her life.
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Post by Jera on Nov 8, 2014 23:24:10 GMT -5
Jera had a hard time keeping from skipping her way down the cobbled streets of Tamryn Proper─ her mood was suddenly brighter, especially now that she was carrying a bag of wrapped things that were hers. It wasn't the shopping aspect that was as appealing as the sense of newness. New City, new clothes, new strength. The young woman was undergoing a fairly rapid and inexorable transition into the next phase of her life and, though change was generally never painless, for the first time in a while she felt hopeful about what could be coming. It had taken some time to get used to Sabreíl and her teaching methods and Jera probably wouldn't understand the profound effect the warrior woman was going to have on her life for a long while, but she was beginning to settle into a more steady rhythm with the the former Oracle. The giant of a woman was fair, not unkind, and─ if Jera were being absolutely honest with herself─ why she'd been a comrade of her father's wasn't hard to see: she simply wasn't a substitute for her family. It wasn't often now that the fair-haired Halfblood allowed herself to think about her twin sister Janna or their mother. Probably because she couldn't for very long before thoughts of her father came up and soured the whole wondering-how-they-were-doing routine the homesick usually went through. A loud exhale sent vapor rushing from her nose as a gloved hand tugged on the thick, shock-white braid hanging loosely down one shoulder. She would never be in a place to forgive him for abandoning her─ no matter how not-evil her redheaded captor slash dictator turned out to be. Eventually she would be able to separate Sabreíl from her father's actions, but everything was still too fresh, and her youth denied her the perspective to think about the larger context.
The well-crafted wooden sign for the tanner's shop came into view on the other side of the street. Jera waited for two women, walking in pace with each other and chatting good-natured-ly about the weather change and the snowfall, to pass before she quickened her step to slip inside the storefront. A man wearing a worn apron greeted her with a smile and Jera instantly brightened in reply.
”Good afternoon!”
It took a few minutes of working with him to establish what she was looking for: simple-ish knee-length boots in a darker, reddish toned leather with a half-inch heel and the sturdiest sole he could offer. When she mentioned adding a design he pushed a swatch book her way containing a selection of custom work that had come out of the shop. Other customers needed his attention so Jera carried the book with her to a nearby bench to flip through each swatch, eyeing the patterns carefully. There were the usual City Insignias and religious symbols─ neither of which had any appeal to her at all. There were wolves and serpents, even butterflies for the overtly feminine she supposed. A stylized fox stood out to her, but didn't quite have the feel she wanted. The next page revealed a rampant that Jera immediately had to stifle the urge to tear out and burn: it was very similar to the one her father had worn when she was younger. A slight grimace crossed her features although she did a very good job of not otherwise expressing her distaste. Maybe she'd forgo a design for now: she really just couldn't figure out which one she wanted.
A quick glance to the counter let her know the shopkeeper was still unavailable so Jera let those molten gold eyes glaze over a second, staring at nothing as she gave consideration to what she wanted. . .
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Nov 8, 2014 23:51:51 GMT -5
Alissia had a difficult time locating the tanner’s shop she had been directed to by the boy running the Orchid’s front counter. Small of stature and light of voice, the brown-eyed youth had indicated that the shop was several blocks north, near to a competing inn: what he had failed to mention was that there were several such shops near the inn he had indicated – one across the street and the other two shops down on the right side. The boy, for all his lack of worldly-experience, had highly recommended the specific shop, and since he had said the word ‘beside’, Alissia took her chances and settled on the shop on the right in lieu of the one across the street.
The woman kept the warm, fur-lined hood of her jacket pulled low over her head as she reached for the tanner’s door. Alissia kept her manner and dress a similar as possible to the women around her, and upon reentering the town’s streets after stowing her belongings in her new room, she had immediately noticed that, apparently, the wind was blowing through the streets fiercely enough to cause most tourists, unused to streets without the humid haze of the Vascxious Sigma steam system, to snuggle themselves into their jackets as though they were braving an expanse of icy wasteland rather than walking from one shopping excursion to the next. The trend worked well for Alissia’s anonymity, and thus she embraced it, though once she was in the warm, lit expanse of the tanner’s she carefully freed the hood from her head and ran her gloved fingers through her white hair, shaking the bits of snow that had collected in it loose and sweeping it back so it would part in the way she preferred. There were several other customers in the shop – an older woman with a much younger man, possibly a family relation, a spindly, frail-looking man who was much older and clearly riveted by the selection of snowshoes the tanner had displayed, and a young woman with long, braided hair that was every bit as white as Alissia’s own, who was currently staring off into space, her hand still on a book that apparently contained custom samples that she had been perusing.
Peering around the young woman, who was closet to the door, Alissia caught the tanner’s eye, and without bothering to take him away from the other woman and the youth Alissia had decided was her son, she called out her querry.
”Winter boots – knee-high, grey?”
The tanner smiled and waved his hand in the direction of the right-hand wall, where a few sample styles were displayed on individual wooden shelves. Stepping just past the young woman, Alissia settled before the samples and carefully stripped off her gloves, placing each one in the corresponding side pocket of her coat before reaching out to drag her fingers across the smooth leather of one sample resting just above her head. It was very close to what she wanted – Alissia herself had owned a pair of boots very similar to the ones she was viewing during her tenure with the Peacekeepers – the woman carefully inspected the stitching, noticing immediately that they were of finer quality than the pair she had owned. Satisfied that she had found the right tanner (the boy had been spot on – she would have to remember to thank him for the advice), Alissia turned away from the samples to catch the tanner’s attention again, but the man had begun arguing in low tones with the older woman, apparently in disagreement over the rightful cost of his services. Alissia shook her head and smirked – she would wait until he was finished, considering her need and observation that the product was worth her time. In the meantime, Alissia stepped away from the wall of samples and instead came to rest beside the younger woman, peering just over her shoulder at the possible inscriptions in the book.
Out of the corner of her eye, Alissia silently examined the young woman. Her hair color was not unusual for the area (many women chemically stripped the pigment from theirs to look more like Floraelia), but her dress didn’t place her as an upper-crust Vascxious Sigma dweller, it was too plain. In addition, the marks on her face were highly distinct, pointing her out as a hybrid – Alissia had encountered a few while she was with the Peacekeepers, considering the high level of diversity a place like Vascxious Sigma attracted, but it was odd to see someone like this young woman in Tamryn. Carefully, Allissia would slide up beside the woman and try and meet her gaze, a soft smile carefully displaying itself on the woman's lips.
”I hope you don’t mind if I look too. Have you seen any you like?”
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Post by Jera on Nov 10, 2014 13:41:21 GMT -5
Jera hadn't noticed the woman who'd come into the shop with hair as snowy as her own. The fingers of her right hand traced the pattern etched into the leather idly before looking down at the page: it was a stylized dragon she touched. Golden eyes narrowed slightly as a small smile pricked at the corners of her mouth. The linework was delicate considering the ferocious creature it represented, and Jera found she rather liked it.
By that time, the blue-eyed woman was trying to catch Jera's attention and she succeeded rather well: the Halfblood shifted her focus readily, staring up at the owner of the smiling voice as her eyes widened. Abashed at how easily she'd been startled the snow-haired girl quickly replied.
”Oh! Sure! I don't mind.”
Jera glanced down at the dragon pattern, moving her hand and raising the book so that the woman could see it more clearly. Liquid gold met clearest sky as Jera handed the book to her. The woman was visually striking and the Halfblood couldn't help but subtly eye her up and down self-consciously. It was possible the surety she held herself with made Jera very aware of how unsure her own carriage could be, especially when approached by a stranger when she'd been staring off into space. Great. She was already coming off as a socially awkward, backwoods commoner.
”There's a couple I like. I think the dragon is my favorite so far but I haven't looked at it all the way through.”
Her back straightened reflexively and she cleared her throat at the sudden tightness forming there. It was then that Jera noticed the woman's hair was as white as her own. Yeah, there'd been a number of women that had the same unpigmented tresses, and the girl had wondered why the color─ or lack thereof─ was so popular, but Jera could tell this woman's hair grew that way, just like her own. Discreetly she checked the woman's cheeks and glanced at her hands─ to say she was a little deflated to find that she was perfectly human-looking was an understatement, but at least it didn't show. If anything, there was a pang of jealousy that she very quickly repressed. What couldn't be so easily repressed was her curiosity about the woman.
”You can sit here if you want,” Jera made a fluttering motion with one hand to indicate the open space on the bench next to her, so that they could look at the swatch book together. Her mouth curved into a shy smile as she struggled not to stare.
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Nov 10, 2014 15:56:17 GMT -5
Alissia took the book from the eager girl as it was handed her way, taking the opportunity to reassess what was going on around them before she focused her full attention on Jera. The tanner was still in a heated discussion with the woman and her son, the latter of which who was pointing emphatically at a slip of paper in her hand. Undoubtedly, it was a quote from another tanner – the upper crust of Vascxious Sigma had made shopping into a full-contact sport, and the ability to get the lowest price for goods from any given vendor was seen as an admirable skill to have, no matter how underhanded a tactic was used to secure that tiny bit of savings. Alissia shook her head, but turned her attention carefully to the sample book she had just been handed, looking over the pages the girl had flipped open to before her sky-blue gaze returned to Jera herself. Taking the offered seat, the woman slowly drew her eyes back to the book that she let rest on the bar-like front counter, tracing her fingers over the imagined edges of the sketches as she listened to the girl’s opinion.
“The dragon? That’s a good choice – some people say that they still exist. Dragons, that is. There are myths that they live in a city across the ocean and walk around like men and women, but that their strength is unimaginable – and that they invented magic.”
The word magic was not often spoken in the region, and Alissia intentionally softened her voice to a whisper when she spoke it, eyeing Jera over the pages with a slightly-teasing smile that the girl would likely be unable to interpret as a sign that the woman was joking or not. Alissia reached her hand out over the book in a sign of greeting, her eyes locked on the girl’s own honeyed gaze with great precision.
“I’m A-h . . . Savryn. Are you visiting Tamryn on vacation?” The slip of her name was quickly recovered, so much so that the girl might not even catch it, but inwardly Alissia cursed herself for not preparing the name switch before opening her mouth. Oddly, it was only a few months prior that the name ‘Alissia’ had seemed strange and foreign to her, the sounds difficult to associate with herself so that they came out of her mouth without conscious thought. Now, the opposite was true – the name she had lived with her entire life was the one that sounded alien to her when she said it. That course would have to be corrected quickly, were she to be able to be accomplished as an undercover operative.
Alissia would wait for a response before looking back to the book. On its pages, the woman spotted a crest not highly dissimilar from the one branded on much of her own clothing – Alissia made a point not to pause on it for more than a second, moving quickly on to the next page and pointing out another of the samples. ”Oh, look,” she said, smiling at the girl seated next to her. “This wolf is nice too.”
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Post by Jera on Nov 10, 2014 20:57:29 GMT -5
Jera's stomach felt like something light and feathery was trying to escape when the white-haired woman sat down next to her. And really, it made sense that she'd be a little nervous. She'd been out of regular contact with people other than Sabreíl for a while and she was an awkward teenager: who wouldn't be a little anxious? When she spoke her piece about the dragon, Jera smiled somewhat eagerly.
”A city across the sea? You mean like Marru'Khyr?” There was a pause as she considered what the woman said. ”Do you think they could be real?”
Jera liked the idea of a Dragon that walked around like a regular person. She wasn't sure about the whole “inventing magic” thing, but it would make sense that they would be powerful, even able to use magic. That they could hide what they were was the most appealing trait even if she couldn't articulate that or why she thought so. It was then that she caught the storyteller's eyes and teasing smile; a light blush crept over Jera's cheeks in response. The Halfblood hesitated only for a moment or two when she held out her hand, and offered up her own to return the greeting with a solid handshake─ the kind of solid that was unpracticed and maybe just slightly too firm and showed a lack of control rather than a need to assert dominance.
”I'm Jera and yeah, well, I mean no. I guess, technically?”
The girl stammered, unprepared for the question and suddenly wondering what Sabreíl would think of her answer.
”Um, we're, well we're here for supplies. I'm not sure how long we'll stay before we go back into the mountains for training.” Probably not too long considering Sabreíl was more like a slavedriver than a teacher. ”What about you? Is this vacation for you, or do you live here?”
Jera realized that it was probably time to let go of Savryn's hand: greetings weren't supposed to last that long. Oh goddess, Savryn probably thought she was so weird! She could feel her cheeks burning and hoped her blush wasn't too awful. What would her twin think if she could see her now? Janna was normally the shy one and Jera always had an answer for everything. Why had she suddenly gone so timid? The Halfblood squirmed a little until Savryn returned her focus to the sample book and pointed out the wolf.
”It's okay. . . I thought the fox was pretty, too.” More and more she leaned toward the dragon. . .
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Nov 11, 2014 13:01:59 GMT -5
Alissia took on a lower, half-whispered tone that was semi-conspiratorial in nature, and she leaned in closer to follow up on Jera’s question. ”Yes! Have you ever been there? They say its ruler and his children are descendant from an ancient dragon, and that they will live forever. I think that if anyone could be related to a real dragon, it would be them.” Alissia smiled cryptically, but took a few seconds to peer past her new conversation partner to check on the rest of the shop’s patrons. Seemingly, the woman and the shop owner had settled on a price, for he was busy writing down her order: when he saw Alissia looking, the man smiled sheepishly and held up one finger, indicating it would only be another minute or so before he could get to Jera and her orders respectively.
Alissia kept her features pleasantly neutral as she turned her attention back to Jera, squeezing her hand lightly as the younger female gave her name. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you. Jera. I’m originally from Vascxious Sgima, but I’ve been travelling for a few months. I’m on my way home.” The words were finely crafted from the truth, though the reality of that truth had been chiseled partially into a different shape by the omission of key context. It was enough to sound extremely honest and forthcoming, which would hopefully inspire Jera herself to speak much in the same way.
Alissia cocked her head slightly to the side, having apparently forgotten the book of samples for the time being. The shift from ‘I’ to ‘we’ hadn’t been unexpected – it had crossed Alissia’s mind that a woman this young wasn’t likely to be travelling alone, and therefore had considered that she was with a caretaker or a group. Where she had come from was highly interesting, however – even in the foothills, the mountains around Tamryn could quickly be unforgiving and dangerous, especially in the winter. That the girl was seemingly living there for the purpose of training herself (in something, Alissia wasn’t sure of what it was yet) was highly irregular, and the woman let the slight confusion show on her face as she continued to converse with the girl.
”You are training in the mountains? That must be really difficult – I’m not sure I would want to spend a lot of time out where its that cold. Are you staying out there with your parents?”
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Post by Jera on Nov 11, 2014 22:12:32 GMT -5
Jera's smile widened, same as her eyes, when Savryn leaned closer to confirm the City the myths were about. Her mouth dropped open a little when she elaborated on the rumors surrounding Marru'Khyr's rulers.
”Well, when me and my sister were really little, so I don't remember what it was like. . .”
The Halfblood had mixed feelings about Marru'Khyr and Lu`Rae to begin with, but that had nothing to do with her knowledge─ or lack thereof─ of the Empire. The negative association with her father and the fact that his long-term service to Marru'Khyr and its Emperor kept him away too often to her earliest memories had a lot to do with why her gaze suddenly dropped away and her brow wrinkled some. Soon enough she was ruefully peering back up into Savryn's impossibly blue eyes, no small measure of hope in her expression.
”Do you think that's true? That Emperor Corvaelan and his family are all Dragons?”
There might have been a youthful uptick in her voice that made it obvious Jera really wanted it to be true. Seriously. How cool was that? Marru'Khyr was ruled by Dragons. No wonder her father spent so much time doing what the Emperor told him to do: the Emperor was a Dragon. You can't just tell a Dragon 'no.' Still, although she could look at it now and understand─ or think she understands─ Janus' position a little better, it didn't change the fact that he was absent a lot of the time, and left them alone. And really? Both her father and her teacher had serious ties to Marru'Khyr's royal family and nobody thought to mention to her that they were Dragons?!
When Savryn responded that she was on her way back to Vascxious Sigma, Jera didn't comment. The Trade City wasn't too familiar to her and her family had no ties there, really. The name was weird, and had too many letters for the sounds and everyone here said it was always really, really cold there. It sounded horrible, and she probably wouldn't like it. But, now she knew one person who was from there, so maybe it wasn't that bad. . . Jera had forgotten the pattern book as well: it just wasn't as attention-grabbing as a conversation about Dragons with an elegant Lady that traveled a lot. When Savryn asked her next round of question, tension that had been collecting in Jera's shoulders released and the Halfblood visibly relaxed a little.
”The cold isn't too bad. It's better than heat. I don't like to sweat in the heat. I'm not. . .” Jera paused, biting her lower lip against the sudden wave of homesickness she'd managed to push away until just then. ”My parents aren't here. I'm with my, um, my teacher. . . It's a long story.”
Jera took a quick breath, scrambling to figure out the easiest way to explain a little better, without admitting her father abandoned her, sounding weird, or whining.
”My dad used to train with my teacher, Sabreíl, back when they were in some Order thing for Marru'Khyr. He was in a different branch or whatever, but he'd known her for a long time. Anyway, something happened and Sabreíl left and did other stuff, and my dad became a Primer or something for Marru'Khyr─ that's how we went to Lu`Rae─ when me and my sister were born my parents took us there. So now I'm here with Sabreíl, learning how to fight and stuff. I'm not sure why we're here, but it's probably because it's just close. We've been in the mountains since before the snow.”
At that, Jera fidgeted a little uncomfortably. She must have seemed so backwoods to Savryn, and seriously, she was dying to tell her that her father was an Emperor in his own right and that she was an actual princess. Except Sabreíl had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to tell anyone about her birthrights, so she just had to deal with sounding like the daughter of a bound knight instead of a fucking princess. Ugh.
”Anyway, we're staying at the Mountain Spring Inn. It's not the greatest, but it's not bad. Maybe you could have dinner with us before you leave or something.” The Halfblood smiled shyly at the woman she decided she wanted to be her friend, even if only for the day.
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Nov 11, 2014 23:15:44 GMT -5
Alissia had momentarily forgotten why she had come into the tanner shop – the girl she had encountered, Jera, was becoming more fascinating by the second. The fact that the youngest Syrkhan had managed to so readily encounter what must have been the one person in one thousand in Tamryn who was in some way connected to her new home almost immediately after entering the town bothered Alissia in some way – she wasn’t highly fond of such strong coincidences. Still, the woman couldn’t find anything about Jera that made her suspect that the girl was being untruthful, and therefore the woman quieted her fears and instead chose to embrace the opportunity.
Alissia listened intently as Jera spoke, watching the girl’s mouth as she formed word after word, half of which were the vague utterances of a youngster. Yet, the other half of Jera’s speech formed gems, and the second her lips parted in such a way that her voice formed the name ‘Sabreíl’, Alissia’s mind started running a mile a minute. The former Intercessor? That must be who she is talking about! Alissia’s father had mentioned the woman as a true and trusted friend who had departed from him when he founded the Empire - apparently, the woman’s ideals didn’t match with an imperial structure, but there were seemingly no hard feelings upon her departure from Corvaelan’s service. Alissia tried also to put together who Jera’s father was – ‘became a Primer’ was rapidly translated in the woman’s mind to what Jera had meant, namely ‘became a Primoris’, and the youngest Syrkhan quickly cycled through the Primoris’ that could have looked anything like Jera. Of course, a great number of them had the same kind of hair, including Daul, but Alissia didn’t know enough about the former Primorises to be able to nail down the connection. If she couldn’t get the name, Alissia made a mental note to look through the files on those who had once been guards of the empire and match the face to her newfound friend’s.
Alissia smiled warmly at the end of Jera’s invitation, carefully sorting through which pieces of information it might be safe to acknowledge directly. If Sabreíl was in Tamryn, and if Alissia met her, the former Intercessor could very easily be a great asset or a terrible liability to the Operative. On the one hand, the Oracle might be willing to help Alissia locate the information she needed, but on the other, the woman knew that she physically resembled her father too greatly for Sabreíl not to be able to connect her to the Syrkhan family, which meant being outed. That left the woman with a very tough decision: abandon her budding friendship with Jera and try and avoid Sabreíl and stay undercover, or take a chance on making a very, very powerful ally and risk being discovered as a Marru'Khyran operative. The risk to Alissia’s information-gathering ability in Tamryn might be great, but if she could convince Sabreíl to accompany her to Vascxious Sigma . . .
Alissia quickly glanced past Jera again to see if anyone had come close enough to overhear the conversation. Luckily, it seemed that the Tanner was still wrapped up with his other customer, leaving the two white-haired women alone in their respective portion of the store. Alissia leaned in close to Jera, motioning with her hand so that Jera would hopefully do the same and the two women could converse in whisper.
”Jera: if your teacher is Sabreíl, the former Intercessor, you must be an incredible person. I’m going to trust you with a secret, but only if you can keep it totally to yourself.” The youngest Syrkhan would wait for her younger friend to respond in the affirmative before continuing, her ice-blue eyes locked intensely on Jera’s.
Alissia glanced around one more time before continuing. ”I came here from Lu’Rae: I’ve been sent on a very important mission by the Emperor himself. I’m here to gather information in Tamryn: I’m looking for a very, very dangerous fugitive. I know it’s a lot to ask, but do you think you would be willing to help me?”
Alissia straightened up as the tanner finally made his way over to the two women. She would wait patiently for Jera, who the man addressed first, to place her order, handing the engraving book back to the girl so that she could indicate her choice, and then when he turned to her, Alissia would point at the boot style she wanted and repeat her color selection.
And, if you don’t mind, I’d like this engraving on each. With one slender finger, Alissia would indicate the Dragon, which undoubtedly had been Jera’s choice as well. The youngest Syrkhan would fish the appropriate amount of coin out of her purse and give it to the tanner, who quickly wrote down their orders and stepped off to the back to get to work. Alissia waited patiently until the man was out of earshot, and until the woman and her son had passed by them on the way to the door, and leaned down close to Jera to whisper again in her ear.
”Listen – if the invitation is still open, why don’t I come by the Spring Mountain Inn tonight and see you again?”
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Post by Jera on Nov 17, 2014 21:08:54 GMT -5
Jera brightened visibly when Savryn responded, familiar with not just her teacher's name but also her former rank. Well, sure she was suddenly a little excited at possibly having an indirect connection to the compelling woman sitting next to her, but it was really the mentioning of a secret to share that really got the Halfblood's heart racing. Those trusting, golden eyes locked onto sky blue so solemnly that Savryn might get the impression Jera was about to swear a blood oath in her direction.
”I'd never share a secret that wasn't mine to tell. . .”
Her chin lowered at she stared earnestly at the older woman, instinctively leaning toward her so that Savryn could lower her voice even more if she wanted to. Her eyes became the size of saucers when she continued, revealing that she was on a top sekrit mission. Jera's jaw dropped a little as she realized how important her new-found friend actually was. Certainly there was a little misgiving about her ties to Marru'Khyr, but Jera was awestruck enough by Savryn's apparent communication with the Emperor her father served that she sort of forgot she was supposed to be highly resentful of the origin of Savryn's directive. Finally she realized that directive meant that there was a criminal in Tamryn that needed to be rooted out. Jera glanced out the window as if the fugitive was trying to sneak past the Tanner's shop and eyed the street somewhat reproachfully before returning her super serious stare to her companion.
”Definitely! Tamryn is a really nice place. What if the fugitive hurts people here? I'll do whatever I can to help!”
Her reply was quick and breathless and─ above all─ quiet. Of course it was then that the shopkeeper finally made his way over, interrupting their conversation. Jera couldn't help but be mildly irritated even though she knew she needed the boots. Boots were important, but the fate of Tamryn could possibly rest in their hands. What was more important than capturing a dangerous fugitive?! But still. . . Savryn obviously needed practical footwear too. She settled fairly quickly with the tanner, confirming that she wanted red-toned brown leather to the knee in a fairly basic style and very, very sturdy soles meant to weather through the seasons. When he asked her if she'd picked out a pattern, she nodded slowly and thoughtfully.
”I want the dragon. On both of them, on the back where it sits on the calf?” She chanced a glance at Savryn, possibly looking for approval. She wouldn't serve Marru'Khyr, but she was okay with wearing its mark and helping one of its emissaries. . . When Savryn made her own choice Jera couldn't stop smiling.
”It's definitely open! I think Sabreíl would really like to meet you, Savryn.”
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Post by Alissia Syrkhan on Nov 17, 2014 22:27:30 GMT -5
Alissia Syrkhan was pleasantly surprised at how receptive Jera seemed to be to the prospect of helping her with her mission. The interaction struck a strange cord with the woman – how long had it been since she’d met someone so incredibly genuine and kind? Something about the girl’s blatant, honest approach to their interaction actually managed to unsettle Alissia somewhat because it was so abjectly foreign: neither her home in Vascxious Sigma nor her new home in Marru'Khyr had displayed such openness. On the contrary, most people she had interacted with in both places were secretive and self-focused, and the normalcy of that experience had left Alissia unable to imagine another way of being. Jera, in a way, was too innocent in nature to exist in either place, and it was that realization, and the comparison of similarity it developed between both places, that caused Alissia to momentarily experience a sinking feeling in her stomach.
The youngest Syrkhan quickly put such thoughts away, however, choosing to ride along with the genuine nature of the interaction instead of trying to analyze it on the spot. She watched carefully as Jera settled her order with the tanner, and then calmly did the same with her own. The shopkeeper informed both women that their products would be ready for pickup the following morning, and after putting her money down and thanking the man for his assistance Alissia stepped away from the counter, but didn’t leave the shop, instead taking up a position in the corner and motioning for Jera to join her. The Syrkhan, once Jera stepped close enough, would put a hand on the girls shoulder and lean in close, bringing her lips close to her ear for a brief moment to whisper to the younger white-haired female.
”Don’t worry – no one should be in danger here from who I am looking for if they are left alone, and for now I’m just trying to find them, not cause a scene. I’ll be able to tell you more tonight, but for now, just be careful who else you trust in the town.”
Alissia would pull herself back and affix her ice-blue gaze on Jera’s eyes, smiling softly as she regarded her new friend. ”I’m very lucky to have met you, Jera. I’m looking forward to seeing you again later. For now, stay well.” the youngest Syrkhan would slowly let her hand fall away from Jera’s shoulder as she waited for the girl’s reply. Once she had spoken again, Alissia would call out another phrase of thanks to the tanner before she gave Jera a wink and turned away, deftly stepping out onto the street and into the growing mid-afternoon shopping crowd.
Alissia quietly thanked the fates for her good luck – stumbling upon Jera, especially with the girl’s link to the former Oracle of Justice, one of her father’s most capable commanders, was a stroke of serendipity the Syrkhan couldn’t have possibly accounted for. Now, if the woman’s luck would follow her to the bookstore and her informational pursuits, her trip might just become a thing to enjoy rather than the exercise in frustration she had expected. Pulling her hood carefully over her white hair, Alissia tapped into her less-than-vivid memory of the Tamryn of her childhood in an attempt to locate her next destination, and moving in and out of the tourist crowds, she would eventually make her way to the bookstore to begin her research. The woman intended to work fast in selecting the requisite tomes and locking them securely in her rented rooms – as of only a few minutes before, the Syrkhan suddenly had a very important date to attend later that evening.
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Post by Jera on Nov 25, 2014 15:42:17 GMT -5
It took a moment for Jera to remember that she needed to settle in monetary terms with the tanner as well: when Savryn put down her payment Jera carefully counted out the total from her remaining budget and handed it over. Later she'd be pleased to note that she still had a small amount left over that she could bring back to Sabreíl. She didn't have to search for a way to continue her connection with the Marru'Khyran Operative. Before Jera really had a chance to ramble awkwardly or gush over the other woman, Savryn touched her shoulder, raising goosebumps in the process and provoking an involuntary shiver from the Halfblood. She froze when Savryn's whisper reached her. The words were taken to heart despite the fact that Jera wasn't entirely sure why both she and Sabreíl were so dead certain that no one could be trusted. Even her sheltered perspective didn't prevent her from realizing how hard life must really be that they couldn't easily find more allies to root out the fugitive and bring them to justice. Though, really, who else could they need? They had Sabreíl. She was tall enough to scare anyone into submission.
”Okay, Savryn. I will, “ she whispered back.
When she stepped back and gave her farewell, color bloomed on Jera's cheeks and she smiled shyly, tilting her head to the side and looking up at the taller woman.
”Okay! See you soon! Remember, it's the Mountain Spring Inn!”
She stood, transfixed as she watched Savryn exit and finally exhaled a breath she hadn't known she was holding─ the force of the escaping air ruffling the shorter pieces of white hair falling into her eyes. Jera finally re-gathered her package and left shortly after.
Now that she'd finished her errands she should start heading in Sabreíl's direction, but the Halfblood didn't want to give up her solitude so easily. . .
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Post by Sabreíl on Nov 26, 2014 13:49:50 GMT -5
Ilyssa stepped out of the general store and into the cool mountain air of the streets and breathed a sigh of relief. The store had been crowded – much more crowded than the Nephilim had been expecting, and that fact had made it all the more awkward when the din of thirty people talking to each other suddenly went almost entirely silent when Sabreíl had walked in the building. It is strange that you have never grown accustomed to such attention. I endured it when walking through the city often due to my role – it took very little time for me to no longer notice it. That’s great for you, but also remember you were their King – they respected you. I’m either feared or thought of as a freak of nature, which is a little different. If you are so concerned with appearances, you know we could magickally alter your height. No, it’s part of who I am now, I’m not looking to change. That doesn’t mean I can’t still be self-conscious, though. After all, Ilyssa had been able to use her height to her advantage when bartering with the shopkeeper – the already short man had cowered slightly when the Oracle had leaned over him, and the large size discrepancy between them had apparently made him wary of trying to upset her friendly demeanor. Sabreíl imagined that her height had offset the usual negotiation negative in these small towns that came with being a woman, and therefore she had been able to order all the supplies she and Jera would need for several more months in the mountains at far less than she had anticipated. Overall, things wre looking up, and she had made arrangements to pick up the good in three days time, meaning that the shopkeeper didn’t have to rush to fill the order, and therefore giving she and Jera more time to enjoy Tamryn.
Sabreíl considered her options. Jera should have been thinking of heading back to the inn by now, but the time in the cramped and populated general store had left Ilyssa with a distinct hankering to remain outdoors. The Oracle glanced around quickly to get her bearings and then set off towards the center of town, idly wondering if there was a habadasher in the town capable of making a coat in her size. Sabreíl seriously doubted it, but she resolved to keep an eye out for any shops that looked promising, just as she would keep watch as she walked through the crisp, snowy boulevards of Tamryn to see if she could spot Jera finishing up her shopping and heading back.
Heading toward the town’s center, Sabreíl remembered that the she had seen a flyer indicating that the center square would be holding an outdoor food and wine festival starting tomorrow night – the flyer had been posted on a tourism board in the lobby of the Inn. Perhaps Jera would enjoy walking among the vendors and sampling a few things – Ilyssa knew that she would enjoy a good wine tasting, since her time away from civilization had almost left her unable to remember what good wine tasted like. Maybe she could even get a few bottles to bring back with her with all that extra money . . . that is, if she wasn’t responsible with the excess and used it to clothe herself warmly so that she might better endure the outdoor winter. Enjoy your vice while you are able to, child. There are other ways you are able to keep yourself warm. You know, if you were anyone else I would almost think you were suggesting I find myself a bedmate. But since you are, you know, you, I know double entendre escape you entirely and you just meant I could use magic. Though, granted, being able to cut the wind chill to zero can be a real lifesaver. I had considered that you might think to find a bedmate while here, but I have faith in your ability to set a good example for Jera. And why would that be a bad example, exactly? Such things are not to be undertaken so casually. Oh, right. I forgot. You are noble and old fashioned. Sorry to disappoint you with my reckless, wild sexuality, but I think Jera should learn not to be ashamed of herself.
Oddly, as Sabreíl entered the square to watch the canopies and vendor tents being set up, Mithria paused for a long moment before choosing to respond. Not ashamed, no. I understand your meaning, and I too do not acknowledge romantic expression as something wrong. Yet, Jera is also young, and such attachments, when made incorrectly, can be extremely painful. You put less emotion into many of your connections than perhaps I understand or could, in my life, emulate. Jera is at an age where she is vulnerable, and pointing her toward that kind of expression before she is prepared to handle its repercussions, even indirectly, could have long-lasting consequences.
Ilyssa took a seat on a bench that looked on to the square, her green eyes catching those of a nearby craftsman who was weighting down the edge of a tent he was setting up. The man, who was young, with dark brown hair and a charming face, smiled warmly at the Oracle, and continued to glance her direction as he continued his work. Ilyssa smiled back and thought about what Mithria had said. It occurred to her that, though the Goddess most often presented herself in a way that was inhuman, or ascended, at one time Mithria was a woman not that unlike herself, or Jera. She had a past, and past hurts therefore, that informed her view, even over time. The admittance was a rare insight into Mithria’s actual emotional perspective, and Ilyssa didn’t want to discourage the small look. I understand what you mean, and I do actually think you’re right. She is pretty young, and she needs time to grow up. But, remember that everyone makes those kind of mistakes as they learn – we can’t protect her from all of them. Of course you are correct. We should do our best to help her, however, even while allowing her to make her own choices. Agreed.
Sabreíl sighed as she looked at the man in the square, who kept looking at her and smiling, and chose to stand and walk back in the direction of the Inn. Absently Ilyssa glanced off into the distant mountains, catching sight of the Manor that stood above Tamryn. It was true that Ilyssa missed companionship, even though she had the eternal voice of Mithria to constantly keep her company, but for now she decided she could resolve herself with Jera’s presence alone. Briefly, the Oracle thought of Fureya, and wondered if her friend was alright, but quickly shook the thoughts from her mind – the Assassin could take care of herself, and Ilyssa was sure that they would cross paths again. For now, as the woman strolled casually back toward the Inn, taking in the sights and experiences of the city, Sabreíl hoped that Jera would want to go to the festival tomorrow night. It would be nice to relax among people again, even if just for a short time.
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