• Open • pride

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Zarik ignored the other man’s call. He made his farewells, paid for their meals, and then he left without pause or hesitance. He hadn’t gotten far, however, until the Lotharro blinked right beside him. Zarik closed his eyes, though he kept walking forward, and inhaled sharply with a sense of obvious annoyance. His lashes fluttered when he glanced to look at Kaelrik.

If it weren’t for his sister, Kiara’s, form, he might’ve been even more upset. However, Kiara had a natural inclination to soften emotions. He sighed in her voice and crossed his arms over his slender feminine waist as if to hug himself. He shrugged with one shoulder when the former slave suggested that he was obligated to help Zarik due to their mutual relation with Alistair. It followed with a warning that even if he ran for it – or climb, as Zarik had been already considering with glances toward a nearby roof and the anxious flitting of his wings – that the Rupturer would easily follow.

His gaze returned and he saw the broad smile that Kaelrik offered… and he frowned, visibly confused by this. He rolled his eyes, then, and looked forward. Zarik pulled at the hem of his short skirt. He started to feel uncomfortable in more ways than one. His breath turned shallow, his pulse quickened, and he blushed silvery-blue.

What could he say? He couldn’t simply tell the other man that Fridgar… could he? No, Fridgar had too much leverage over Kaelrik now. He knew his core. Zarik couldn’t compete with that, he barely could manage when it came to Alistair and that had required so much of his attention, so much of his devotion, so much sacrifice of himself. He couldn’t split himself to do the same with Kaelrik for a lesser bond… could he?

“Yes,” he spoke slowly in a quiet voice that barely could be heard above the sound of the busy streets of Miletos. “Something is wrong.”

“I don’t wish to speak about it here, around all these people. Are you capable of taking us elsewhere with your Rupturing? Somewhere quiet?” asked Zarik. “Perhaps outside of the city?”

He paused, then added in a swift change of mind, “Actually I… I should return to my studies.”

[Kaelrik]

As soon as Zarik confirmed that his suspicions were correct, Kaelrik nodded. The biqaj had seemed uncharacteristically off. It had struck a chord with Kaelrik and he saw no reason to leave the other man to his troubled thoughts. There was certainly enough troubling thoughts to go around that suffering in silence wouldn’t help anyone. He opened his mouth to confirm that he could indeed teleport the two of them somewhere else. He certainly wasn’t able to achieve the distance or range that a master such as Alistair was capable of but he could get them far enough away in a leap or two that they could speak in private. When Zarik changed his mind however, Kaelrik sighed and shook his head.

“Nope. No changing your mind. Let’s talk.” Looking about, Kaelrik set his eyes on a rooftop exactly one-hundred feet away from them. His spark given gift of knowing the exact distance helped in this instance tremendously. Reaching out, Kaelrik tore a hole in the fabric of space in front of them. He quickly grasped Zarik’s shoulder and yanked him into the portal with him. The space between Kaelrik and his destination exactly one hundred feet ahead of them was closed in the blink of an eye. The portal closed behind them and Kaelrik released Zarik. He folded his hands behind his head and stared at the biqaj.

“I’d tell you to expect some disorientation but I imagine you’ve traveled through portals with Alistair’s before.” He shrugged his broad shoulders and looked around. The roof was empty except for a laundry line strung across two poles in the rooftop. The people going about their business on the streets either didn’t pay attention to them or were pointedly ignoring the business of a sorcerer and his companion. Kaelrik hummed softly to himself before leaning against one of those poles. He studied Zarik’s feminine form and felt only concern for how withdrawn the biqaj was all of a sudden.

“Alright. We are in a private place. Well, as private as I can get us to at the moment.” Kaelrik shrugged his shoulders and looked at Zarik expectantly. “Please don’t run off, Zarik. If you are suffering, say something. You don’t need to suffer in silence. You did me an immeasurable kindness. Allow me the honor of showing you one in turn.”

The Lotharro tried his best to convey his sincerity. He couldn’t promise that he would understand but he would certainly do his best to help if he could.

[Llyr Llywelyn]

It seemed he wasn’t going to be able to get away that easily. Zarik closed his eyes briefly, in remorse that he’d admitted that something was wrong. He shouldn’t have. He should have kept his mouth shut and kept walking. They went through the portal and he felt the faint drift of Kaelrik’s ruptured ether that mimicked Alistair’s so greatly.

He glanced around the roof and sighed. Zarik nodded in agreement that he’d traveled through portals before. Plenty of times. He walked along the laundry line and ran a hand over the clothing. His thoughts raced in a flurry to figure out what to say. He had to come up with a neat little lie that wouldn’t actually confess how he felt or why but would convince the former slave.

Please don’t run off, Zarik.

The biqaj paused in his walk. He looked over at the other man, though his eyelashes fluttered, and he averted his insecure gaze of blue-gray eyes. Zarik felt acutely the female form he wore then, and he pulled at his dress again, then blushed.

“I…” he started, then his voice faded. He cleared his throat. He tried again. “I’m not suffering. It’s not that. My life is… blessed.”

Though he said it, his voice – in the tone of Kiara – sounded devoid of belief. He considered the risks, he considered the potential of simply telling Kaelrik the truth about what was going on… there were few he could talk with about it, perhaps no one.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He walked past the laundry line and hid behind a drying blanket. Zarik walked along then peeked around the other side. “I don’t mean to worry you. It’s only… everything is so complicated, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how to navigate these waters. I never expected I would have to, so… It is not meant as an excuse, but it is true.” He grasped the edge of the sheet, examined the material as if he was judging the value of its fabric. “You remember what you told Fridgar, before you left for Quacia from Koros? Perhaps not. I do. I remember you called him terrifying, and then, I don’t know if it was the… or... I don’t know what to believe anymore. My mind betrays me, it seems, and... my heart aches amidst my confusion.”

Zarik walked back around the sheet, he held it behind him. His slender body leaned against the line. He glanced over the Lotharro, then said, “You know Alistair. Tell me, if I didn’t exist, do you believe he would have been happy with Fridgar… like how… Fridgar wants it? There still would have been you, wouldn’t there? And others, yes? …there will always be others. Always.” The youthful biqaj turned to the side and walked over to the roof’s edge. He glanced down at the street below, then shut his eyes and felt a lift in the air as ocean breezes crossed paths, warm and cool, and the scent of a possible rainstorm to come.

“I… I don’t understand why Fridgar remains here. Even you planned for departure, even you as the other Havendal, and maybe you would have gone already, if not for your brother holding to a promise he didn’t have to,” added Zarik in a quiet voice. There was no point in restraining himself anymore. He extended a sliver of trust and prepared for inevitable betrayal due to his extension. He looked over at Kaelrik and asked, “Do you know why? Why Fridgar stays despite his choice of divorce? Why he would do that to himself? To Alistair?"

"I do not know what is sincere with him and what is not, whether he will cleave me in half with his ax or... drown me in the sea... or... I don't know. He rescued me from capture, yet I don't know why. He has lied, it seems, or... omitted truth and has threatened me to- the point of- I.... Yet he is friends with you. He initiates you, learns of your very core, and I don't understand. Here I stand, alive but I don't know- why- I shouldn't be- he- and- my memory- I am so- con-fused by it all.” A couple tears rolled down his cheeks. His voice broke toward the end. He turned away again and placed a hand over his face to hide his quiet sobs.

[Kaelrik]

Kaelrik was not convinced by the hollow statement of being blessed that came out of Zarik’s mouth. It was spoken with no conviction. There was no sincerity to it. In fact, Zarik seemed to quiver beneath the weight of the lie. It reflected in his very bearing and it did not go unnoticed. The Lotharro did not interrupt however. He let Zarik speak. As the becomer walked the rooftop, examining the laundry hanging from the line, it was clear that he wanted to get this information off of his chest even if he was hesitant to do so. Kaelrik understood that. He understood being guarded. He had been closed off, insular, completely numb to the world until Alistair and Kleine and everyone else in the House of Venora had gone out of their way to show him love and kindness.

“Few things worth fighting for are easily won, Zarik.” Kaelrik spoke with the resonate wisdom born from experience. Kaelrik had fought for many things. Whether it was for sheer survival or for love, he’d fought hard enough that he knew the worth in struggling through those waters no matter how tumultuous they could be.

“If you were not here, if I was not here, Alistair and Fridgar still would have separated.” Kaelrik lowered his eyes and studied the surface of the roof. He felt the winds dance across his brow. The warmth of the day brought him comfort even with the seriousness of the discussion taking place.

“Fridgar wants Alistair to be someone he is not. He if a man incapable of grasping change and understanding that people change. In fact, he refuses to accept such things because at his core, he wants control. Alistair is not a man who will be controlled. But he is a man who is very willing to listen to those he loves.” At Zarik’s comment about promises not needing to be kept, Kaelrik laughed. He shook his head.

“My brother and I believe in holding true to promises made. It’s what honor demands.” He offered Zarik a small smile as the man proceeded to confess the burdens of his heart. His smile quickly faded as he realized just how much distress the biqaj was in. While some of his statements confused Kaelrik, he thought he could follow some of the explanation. The problem at hand had to deal with Fridgar. For a moment, Kaelrik believed it was simply jealousy. But no, it was not that. Zarik seemed…

…terrified?

Yes, that was it. The biqaj was afraid. He spoke on Fridgar as an axe wielding brute. It was true that Fridgar was indeed an axe wielding brute. He spoke about lies or misguided truths. Zarik seemed almost desperate to know why Fridgar stayed when he’d divorced himself from Alistair.

“Zarik…” Kaelrik stood up straight from the pole. He took a step toward the biqaj. The warmth of his inner fire, the element with which he shared kinship, called to him. It whispered to him to provide warmth and comfort to a soul that was suffering.

“Fridgar is…not a friend. A teacher. A mentor, perhaps. But he is not exactly welcoming of friendship.” Kaelrik stood still as he stared at Zarik. The desire to give support to the suffering biqaj warred inside of him with his past lessons of Zarik being repulsed by his touch.

“I do not know why he stays. Maybe for the same reasons that I do, unfinished business. He loves Alistair. I think he does anyways. I know that I do. But Alistair…” It hurt to say this aloud but Kaelrik spoke it anyways. “…Alistair has asked for distance between us. So it is space that I have given him. That’s why I chose to leave. Not because I want to, because my Kindal d-doesn’t want me near.”

For a moment, Kaelrik’s face reflected the amount of distress that caused him. To a Lotharro, the life-bond was a sacred thing. The bond between Havendal and Kindal, whether romantic or platonic, was not something easily cast aside.

“There is no easy way forward, Zarik. If it is your memory you struggle with, mediate on what you do know. Perhaps that will lead to more answers. If I can, I will help you. Not because I owe you, because I want to.”

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Zarik could almost feel when the other man stepped toward him, though he kept his tearful gaze hidden behind his hand. For once, the semantics of the concept didn’t matter. Friend, teacher, mentor, it was all the same to the biqaj – a closeness shared, a trust offered, and a promise of loyalty.

Unfinished business… and then he heard it, among the words meant to comfort or perhaps merely to confess in response: Maybe for the same reasons that I do. Zarik crying faded. He kept his hand up, though, and hid behind his fingers. That contradicted what the former slave had told him in Marcovera, or at least what he could remember of it all, as jumbled and hung-over and otherwise his mind had been. Kaelrik seemed intent on departure for… Zarik had assumed it’d been an attempt at freedom, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case at all. Distance based on Alistair’s discretion, not Kaelrik’s.

He lowered his hand. The biqaj looked over with eyes of gray and the visage of his sister’s face in neutral emotion. Zarik breathed slowly, recovering from his sobs with the faintest of hiccups every other breath or so. He wiped away his tears.

“That is fine. I do not require your help," he said in the same empty voice from before. “I’m sorry to bother you with such stupid things. If you could… not tell anyone else what I’ve shared with you, I would greatly appreciate your discretion. I am still struggling with my new spark and act out of turn because of it.”

Zarik stepped onto the roof’s ledge. He eyed a path downward, then said, “And Kaelrik, don’t ever follow me like that again.” He stepped off the ledge. His wings flitted. He landed on a windowsill partway down, then continued with swift angled leaps until he landed on the street. Without a glance up, he headed in the direction of the villa estate.

[Kaelrik]

Kaelrik watched the dramatic shift of demeanor from Zarik with an arched eyebrow. He shook his head, confused by the sudden change in disposition from the biqaj. With a sigh he folded his arms over his chest watching the temperamental Becomer glide off into the distance. His implied threat was meaningless to Kaelrik but for Zarik's sake he would honor it.

It was difficult to get a pulse for the man. One minute he seemed dead set on being wrathful, cold and spiteful. The next he was projecting a sincere level of distress and anxiety. It was abundantly clear to Kaelrik that the man was struggling with something and it related to Fridgar. For all of his strength, Kaelrik was well aware of his kinsman's brutality and lack of compassion for those weaker than himself. It was a stark change from the man that Kaelrik had initially met but it was who Fridgar was. He worried for Zarik, if only because his behavior was so erratic.

Perhaps it was the battle of Sparks that warred within Zarik. It seemed, based on all he'd told him, that the whole of the biqaj's life was something being engineered toward living for Alistair and the nobleman's whims. He could understand the appeal. His Kindal was a powerful and charismatic man with wealth and influence but living ones life solely to please one individual was no way to live in Kaelrik's opinion.

Clasping his hands behind his back he followed Zarik's movements for a moment before blinking back to the ground. Ultimately Zarik's wellbeing wasn't his concern, concerning though it was. The biqaj was loved by his Kindal and while he was at odds with Alistair for the moment, the still cared. With slow steps he made his way back to the forge intent on returning to work.

[Alistair]

Kaelrik

Knowledges
Rupturing: Maintaining a stable portal
Rupturing: Bringing a person through portals safely
Rupturing: Stable portals are more taxing than blinking portals
Defiance Technique: Using Kingship with fire to assist in maintaining the forge
Becoming: Can be utilized to take the form of people
Becoming: The mutations of other sparks transfer to all forms
Smithing: Maintaining the coals of a forge at viable temperatures
Smithing: Recognizing the need to add more fuel to a forge fire
Business Management: Having proper inventory of supplies allows to informed allocation of materials
Business Management: Proper bookkeeping is crucial to success
Investigation: Using straightforward questioning to get pointed answers
Etiquette: How to place polite orders in a café
Etiquette: The deference shown to nobles vs. commoners
Philosophy: The Importance of Fire in Civilization

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: +5

Points 15 - These points may be used for Rupturing.

Zarik

Knowledges
Climbing: Jumping down a building via window sills.
Climbing: Used in tandem with Gossamer Wings (mutation).

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: +5

Points 15

Comments: Due to the extreme backlog of threads in need of review, I won't currently be leaving comments in order to save some time. Please PM me if you have any questions and enjoy your rewards!

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