Take Back the Crown

Not bad company? Nameen smirked briefly, having never thought of herself of being good company, unless it was with someone she knew well (and there weren't a lot of people fitting that description) However, she appreciated Bo's kindness.


Nameen then began to ponder what he had said about having reasons and goals. More and more she had lately been thinking of the ways that achieving her own goals would help the quest to succeed, something that hadn't even crossed her mind at the beginning. The only thing that she hesitated from were the risks involved, for her and for anyone around her. What if she was wrong? What if her intentions, however good they may be, had the opposite effect? She'd worked so hard to block out and forget everything that had happened during her final weeks at her former village....


It was always the same. Everytime Nameen told herself that she was going to ask someone about magic and her eye, she ended up being blocked by self doubt.


A thought occured to her. She could ask Bo. He was a magic user, which meant that he had to have some understanding of its behaviour. He seemed understanding. And she was willingly conversing with him. Who knew when that was going to happen again?


Ask him. A few questions won't cause any harm. Her mouth opened to speak.


"I've been thinking a lot- like I said," she took a deep breath. "When I joined this group I was thinking mostly of my own goal. Now I think that fulfilling it will help- the quest I mean." She realized that she was stalling, and that the tension in her chest was returning.


Ask him.


"You- you can use magic. You understand its behaviour," she stated slowly, not noticing that her voice barely came out as more than a whisper. "I have a- no, several questions I've been wanting to ask someone. Anyone. And there's only so much I can learn from books."


@soundofmind
 
Bo looked down, biting his lip as his insecurity about his own magic rose up with him. Yes, he understood it. That much was true. He was unsure though, how capable and qualified he was to answer questions. He knew he still had much to learn about magic... especially how others understood it. His thoughts went to the conversation he had on the boat with Thora, where she explained her own magic and connection to the earth. He also couldn't help but be reminded of the horse's comment (of all things, he was concerned of the opinions of a horse) about how dense he must've been to lack such understanding. Despite that though, he really did want to help Nameen.


He set his now clean boots aside, and turned ever so slightly more inward, towards her. "I... I'll do my best to answer. But you ought to know that I might not be the best person to ask. Most of my knowledge is based on experience, or is very circumstantial. There are many different forms of magic, and even more ways to use it. I'm by no means an expert, but as I said..." He gave her a weak smile, hoping to ease her nerves, since she still seemed uneasy, as she spoke so quietly. It must be a difficult question to ask. I wonder if it has anything to do with her eye.





He decided to match her volume, speaking gently. "I'll do my best. If you still want to ask, I'm all ears."

 
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Lucasta sat silently for a moment as he sharpened his sword. "Well at least we are experiencing it now." She muttered. It went silent again, and she had some time to think to herself, on how to start a conversation. Of course him "borrowing" money would be a good thing to check up on. "So... You said you had a debt. I don't mean to pry at all, but what is the debt for?" She asked, hoping she wasn't making him uncomfortable.


@Lo Alyssa
​
 
@soundofmind (ahh there are probably a lot of mistakes in this but it is midnight so....yeah hehe)


Nameen could see Bo's lack of confidence, but for some odd reason it gave her comfort, seeing as it reflected her own unease. It was her last chance to back out, to take off down the corridor and avoid the taller man as much as possible for the remainder of their journey together. But she knew that, however much she wanted to keep avoiding the problem, it would get her no where. Besides, she imagined that trying to stay away from Bo would prove to be quite difficult.


"The type of magic that I'm- interested in is what I kind of nicknamed as parasite magic." She cringed as she said this aloud. The name was appropriate, but in her ears it rang as simple and juvenile.


"It's when a magical source takes host to a living thing, giving said host access to its power in the process. It is the source's way of protecting itself, since without the host, it would simply dissolve into the regular flow of nature's energy, the overall source that most magic users tap into. Of course, you might know this already, I mean-" Nameen breathed, tense and frustrated.


"What I really want to know is, will the source heal itself if it is damaged? Would the magic be affected if the host was damaged? Or would it just quickly move on to another host entirely?"


Hearing her own words, Nameen felt as if she were coming across as obvious. For a second she stood with her teeth grit, stopping any more speech, before suddenly relaxing, anxiety replaced with a feeling of resignation.


She could tell Bo was smart. There seemed to be constant flow of thoughts hiding behind his eyes, analyzing and excellent at at reading people. With every clue she'd laid out for him, accidentally or purposely, she guessed that he already had an idea of what she was really asking about. He simply refrained from asking her directly out of politeness.


With this in mind, she felt as if she didn't have to put so much effort into hiding as much, and at this moment that calmed her. But in the back of her mind, there was a relentless, daunting fear of being so open. It was a feeling that, for now, Nameen shoved aside as she waited for Bo to give an answer.
 

Phaedra had been one of those who had been soaking in the water the longest, allowing herself to go into a state of complete relaxation. While she had had hot baths before, never was she able to completely submerge herself in the waters for an extended period of time. She began to daydream that she had been born of a water elemental instead, soaking in the water and gaining strength from its gentle warmth. Phaedra began to sink beneath the water, scrubbing gently at her scalp and raking her fingers through ebony shoulder-length locks of hair, detangling them and ridding them of any lingering chunks of food in the process. Between the playful "Battle of Sustenance" and the luxurious bathing experience she was thoroughly enjoying now, this was truly what she needed. Just a moment to herself.

She did enjoy the company of others and learning about them, but it was so easy for her to feel drained after a certain amount of time. Now was the time for her to allow herself to recharge, so to speak. Phaedra savored the quiet rippling and dripping of water around her, focusing only on the serenity of the liquid and the silky feel that it mimicked as she allowed it to run through her fingers.

Eventually, she felt the water begin to cool as it began to match her own body temperature and the air that, literally, swirled around her, leaving constant ripples in the water. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out of the bath, dried herself with a towel, and threw her clothes on before stepping out of her stall. Her odd-colored gaze fell first on Foxrun, immediately noticing the red stains beneath his eyes had gone. Curiosity overtook her instantly and she, lazily, drifted over to him, some of her strength returned to her.

"And here I thought those marks under your eyes were permanent."

She tilted her head and a slight smile played upon her lips, a dainty hand resting on her cheek as she spoke. Soon after those initial words came the questions, as she was known to do

"Do you draw them on for a reason? Do they mean something?"

@GalacticRam
​
 

Hjalmar froze at the question, his gaze faltered as all the memories came flooding back from that time. A lump formed in his throat, and he went silent. A part of him wanted to tell her, but he could hardly imagine what she would think of him if he explained. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.


He exhaled in frustration, and finally managed to bluntly answer her, "For my life." He didn't know how else to put it. He was indebted to someone who saved his life, and used that against him. He trusted the wrong person, and now he was paying for it.


He continued sharpening his sword, but it only took a couple more strokes to be finished. He sheathed it and decided he would finish the rest of his weapons later. He didn't want to push Lucasta away, he appreciated her concern and her kindness. But the subject she pried about shut him down, and he was no longer interested in talking with her. He felt slightly guilty, but he couldn't anticipate what sort of words would spill from his lips if he remained there. His mind suddenly became cluttered with old and painful memories he'd rather forget. He needed to be alone.


Giving her an apologetic look, Hjalmar quickly walked away, leaving his weapons behind. He didn't even know where he was going, he just needed to leave. He passed the smithy, hoping to find some quiet spot in the canyon walls ahead, following the gully that passed through the encampment.
​



 
Foxrun seemed surprised for a mere second, transfixed with what he had been doing. But as the curious questions continued he couldn't help but grin. "And here I thought nobody would notice since my hair tends to hang in the way." He joked before aiming to answer her question "it's something the elders of the village made. It is very hard to get off without a certain type of oil, which they also made. Originally, it was meant for ceremonies." He paused a moment, scrubbing at a heavier stain in the cloth he was working on "I don't exactly have much reason for what they mean I suppose. Honestly, it's a habit I picked up along with those I grew up with." Now he cut off, considering how to word the rest of his answer. "I still do it to honor those who can't partake with doing it anymore. It was meant to be a way to express joy for the celebrations someone attended. But one of the dark courts twisted it to mark their slaves. Tweak the ingredients so that it was even harder to remove. They didn't want permanent marks in case they traded the slaves. And in some cases, it was removed when around the royals of that court, had to be presentable I guess. " he glanced over at her, hoping to not lessen the good mood with these facts. "Despite such uses for it, I try to use it for its much lighter, initial purposes. For fun." It was obvious he didn't mind the barrage of questions, enjoyed them even. "Although I would like to learn more about putting meaning behind the markings. To make it something a bit more personal, as another way of protesting the marks I was once forced under." He chuckled at the thought, not even realizing he had never brought this experience up before.


@TeeKay
 
Valeiah huffed. Now her spot to sit was taken by the annoying freak of nature that she called her brother. They were mean to each other.


She walked off and found another place to sit at and relax. Maybe even doze off for a bit. It was nice and quiet too, a plus.


(@ anyone who wants to walk over and bug her)
 
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Bo listened carefully, his brows furrowing as he turned the question over and over again in his mind. It didn't take long for him to piece it all together. Of course, he knew he still lacked the full picture, but as she explained, he found his eyes landing on the scar that ran down her face with a different sort of interest than he had before. He didn't even know if he could call it curiosity, but rather compassion, or something like that. There was a painfully strong tug at his heart as he concluded that whatever <em>parasitic</em> magic that had clung to her, had caused her trouble, and cost her an eye... and likely, much more. <em>Magic seems to always come with a cost... but then again, so do all of our actions (they have consequences).</em> But what he couldn't seem to work around was that, from what it sounded like, the magic she was talking about had taken host inside of her, and that it was beyond her control to stop it.<em> If she lacked the control to repair it, and it's some sort of foreign magic (to her body) that lets her have access to its magic... hm. </em>


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He was still thinking about the question she posed to him as he began to answer. "I don't think magic just <em>leaves</em> like that. From what I've seen, it's presence and existence linger, even if the source of it is weakened. The after effects post-damage however, always seem to differ on a case-by-case basis. In your case -" he stopped himself, his eyes widening a bit as he realized that he might've just jumped ahead too far. She had not yet verbally specified that she was talking about herself. She was being vague, and he should probably stick to that as well. He couldn't help but feel though, that as long as they danced around it, her question, at it's core, might never be fully answered... "I mean, in... uh, from what you're specifically talking about -<em> hypothetically </em>- if the host was damaged like, in the place where the magic kind of... festered or, uh," he made a spherical shape with his hands, to show how he pictured the magic dwelling inside of them in a clustered sort of way. "Like, where it's concentrated in the person, or whoever. Then I think the magic's still there, but more... dormant, I guess. I don't think that magic can just dissipate into the 'flow of nature' quite like that. I think for all of the magic to leave, then the entire host would have to die. Because... I think a lot of people, and maybe not all of them, but many, are born with at least a little bit of magical potential, or magic inside of them. Even if they don't use it or take advantage of it, or even notice it, I think that it stays there until they die."


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He re-positioned himself to be facing Nameen, crossing his legs. His face lit up a little as he began to explain, "Like, I... I understand magic as a kind of energy." Almost involuntarily, his fingers followed the lines of the veins going up his forearm - a faint blue glow emanating from them as he did so. "Almost like a life-force... attached to the life it's with until the life itself is gone. Only then can I see it moving on somewhere else. So no, I don't think the magic itself is affected in the sense that it's gone. It's just hindered from being put to use because what enables it to manifest is weakened. So... I guess, that means that no, it doesn't repair itself, or uh, it can't repair the physical host it's in. But the magic is there. Just... quiet. Sleeping..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged.


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"I don't know how you could repair the host though, if it's physically damaged. But if whatever the magic is <em>in</em> is or <em>was </em>magical - which, I <em>think</em> it is, if I'm hearing you correctly - then it still<em> is </em>magical. Just like how a leg's muscles are still there, and hypothetically have the potential to function, even if the leg is paralyzed. It's just the connection between your brain, the nerves, and the muscles is all messed up. If that makes sense at all." He paused, finding himself holding his breath. He hoped he didn't just make things worse. "So... there's still hope for you. If that's what you<em> want</em>... to use it again." And now he found himself being more direct. But he had to offer her hope... if that's what she needed. He knew<em> he</em> needed it. She probably did too. Maybe not for her magical eye... but something.


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@Rydellius(sorry it's so long omg)


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Dorian was curious so, while he was quietly talking with Garrett, he was also listening to the conversation between Lucasta and Hjalmar. When the thief said that the debt was for his life, Dorian had trouble to keep from frowning. He had been in similar situations before, when he was but trying to gain a name in the criminal world: many times he would get in deep trouble, get rescued, and then owe someone a lot of money. But often he would end up repaying his debt by killing the person, then taking control of all the goons they had under their command. Now he was the person to whom many were indebted. He wondered if he could pull some strings to get Hjalmar out of trouble.


While Kacel'la worked on sharpening and fixing weapons, she noticed that the pile of things she was done with was somehow diminishing. That's when she noticed Sera dragging away someone's dagger towards a little pile of shiny knick-knacks, weapons and machinery that it had pushed together under some table.


"Sera, give that back." The elf commanded but all she got as a response was the wyvern dragging the dagger away faster.


"This will be a pain." She mumbled, knowing how possessive the little beast was of whatever it had stolen.
 
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Hjalmar found a small crevice in the canyon walls, well shaded, though the sun was nearly gone from the sky. He leaned back, staring at the stars which were becoming more apparent as the sky grew darker. He sighed and closed his eyes.


But his ear twitched when he heard a poof to his left. Knowing what it was, he groaned in agitation, "Can I not get a moments peace!?" He looked up to see Rolo, shrugging in response, "Sorry, kid. I'm just looking out for yah." He defended himself, taking a seat next to the thief.


"Mar, you're in serious trouble." Rolo said fretfully, "Ingvar is angry. Angrier than I've ever seen him in years. He thinks you're pulling his leg, and he's not amused."


Hjalmar was silent. Ingvar was his master's name, a name that struck fear in the hearts of those who knew the face that went with it. Rolo rarely called him that unless the situation was serious. Ingvar seemed your average crimelord to most, but there was more to him than that. He was an ancient warrior, Hjalmar didn't know how old exactly, but he was indeed ancient. He was not only physically powerful, but he had magic. The man almost reminded him of the daemon lord, Kvacht, when it came to the scale of his power and sadistic nature. He wasn't human, that was for sure. And once he had you in his grasp, there was no slipping away. In the past, the only release to be found of Ingvar's iron grip was through death alone. But rumor was that even after death, Ingvar could haunt you in the afterlife, that his grip was not on your body, but also on your soul... Many of the men and women tricked into following him believed he was a deity concealed in a human's skin. Hjalmar at first though that was rubbish, but now he wasn't so sure.


"I used to believe I could pay off my debt, that I could meet the price of my life... but..." Hjalmar trailed off, "It is folly. I do believe he made that up just to get an income from desperate souls who want to be free."


Rolo nodded, "There's only one way to free your soul."


Hjalmar sighed, "Áskorun... But no one survives those. It's suicide to challenge him in combat."


"Aye," Rolo glanced at Hjalmar, almost regretfully, "but it might be the only way."


Hjalmar frowned, and sat up, "I'll get you the payment tonight, I don't have anything right now."


"Alright, alright." Rolo stood up, "I know when I'm not wanted, I'll leave you be... But... one last thing?"


Hjalmar looked at him expectantly, "I would say good luck, but that doesn't sound like it'd do any good..." He pondered for a moment, "May the Life of Galdur protect you." He said sadly before apparating away in a puff of smoke. To wish me well in the power of the Galdri? A force Rolo didn't even believe in? Hjalmar thought to himself as he laid back down, It must be much worse than he let on...
​
 
Nameen folded her arms and leaned back against the ledge as she absorbed every word that Bo had to say in his answer. Her eye locked onto an unspecific space in front of her, as her ears remained wide open, relaying the information she was hearing to turn the gears in her mind.


So, he believes that the parasite will cling to its host until their death, even if the host took significant damage. As long as the host survives, than so will the magic. It may be significantly weaker, asleep even, but still there. Is that why I can't access it?


Listening on, she began to gain an easier comprehension of the subject with how Bo worded it. She had been right in the assumption that actually speaking to someone with firsthand magical experience would allow her to clearly understand her problem rather than through research and texts.


Her head perked up when he made the comparison invloving muscular paralysis and its similarities to this situation.


I'm like a paralytic, in a magical sense. The magic is there, alive, but the damage I suffered has cut the connection between it and my access.


For the longest time the only thing that Nameen had wanted to know was if the source that had taken host to her had been vanquished after she was blinded, since her eye had been the part of her that the magic worked through. Now knowing that it was most likely still there, there were only two things left to determine. She had hope that the connection could be repaired, but what would it take? And did she even want to?


"I don't know," she mumbled aloud, in answering to her own question and Bo's final statement.

 
He watched her face as she processed what he said, seeing the response in her countenance before she even voiced it. She'd said that she'd come on the trip for her eye, but maybe that wasn't entirely true. It sounded like she came for answers... concerning her eye, and whatever magic it possessed. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly the magic allowed her to do, especially since she was so unsure about whether or not she truly wanted it back again. If it was so problematic, he couldn't imagine that it was entirely good hence the hesitation. But that could also be because of what happened to her eye in the first place. It also couldn't be entirely bad either, since she was thinking about restoring it, if it were possible...


He wanted to tell her it was ok to not know, but he also wanted to help her think through it, since she probably would need to know at some point. Just a gentle nudge in that direction. If she doesn't want to keep talking about it, I'll drop it.





"...What would you do if you could use it again?" He asked quietly, still watching her face for signs of whether to change the subject or not. He could almost see another 'I don't know' coming, but he could at least try.


@Rydellius
 
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Oceana had seen Hjalmar pass by looking somewhat upset and she halted her repairs on one of Yaroslav's greaves.


She was torn between the desire to console him and to finish her work. Normally the decision wouldn't be hard; the elf often chose to work through many hours at a time and left those around her be.


But Hjalmar was a different case.


Suddenly a memory came flooding into her mind; the thief's scent close and fingers threading through her hair as she tottered on the edge of sleep.


Shaking the strange memory away, the elf took off the borrowed smith apron she was wearing and turned to Kacel'la.


"Sorry for leaving you with the rest." She voiced, tone sincere. She took off the gloves too.


"I've got something I have to do."


And she strode after the tanned young man, he had already turned a corner in the canyon wall.


Bare feet kicking up clouds of dust, the elf maiden marched quickly, a small ball of worry blooming in her chest.


She stopped suddenly, not far off from the corner of sandstone that was the wall.


Hjalmar was talking.


To someone.


"May the life of the Galdur protect you" the unfamiliar voice intoned somewhat sadly.


Who is that?


She turned the corner quickly but only Hjalmar was left, looking quite spooked.


The elf stared at him.


"Tell me." She demanded, eyes icy with suspicion.


@Lo Alyssa
 

Hjalmar let out a curse at the sudden appearance of the very quiet elf, he hadn't heard her sneak up on him as he was in deep thought (which was rare, but with Oceana's already stealthy nature and his clouded mind, it was no surprise).


He looked up at her, already with a lie on the tip of his tongue. He was going to say that he was talking to himself, but found he couldn't utter the words. He gave a long defeated sigh, and the truth came out instead, "His name is Rolo." He stated quietly, "He's a... colleague, an accomplice? I suppose..." He rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his shaggy black locks, "He came to me about the debt." He wasn't going to continue explaining, but his mouth betrayed him and added, "Apparantly my... boss... is growing impatient, and nothing good ever follows that impatience."


@OlKaJa77
​
 

Lucasta blinked and didn't move when Hjalmar got up and left. She hung her head low. She must have hit a hard subject for him. She stood up and started to wander around, eventually ending up in the training area where she found Yaroslav. She watched him practice his form for a few minutes, wondering if perhaps he could help her improve on her skills in combat. When he decided to take a moment for a breather, Lucasta cleared her throat from behind him. "You fight very well." She complimented. "I am not very skilled in combat." She commented, rubbing the back of her neck. "Do you know how to use swords just as well as you use axes? I would be honored to learn a few tips, at least."


@Lo Alyssa
​
 
Tattooed lips frowned severely at the mention of Hjalmar's debt.


She was not oblivious to the others lending him money and his need to steal.


No.


Need to repay.


That's what that was all about, she thought. Her memory flashed back to the incident with Ayda in the town across the inlet.


The way all of it added up and how he just said the word made Oceana think that this debt was steeper than any of them first expected.


The elf gazed at the thief; his dark, curling locks. His thin arms, muscle barely curling under the skin. The way he nervously chewed his lip.


But he's just a boy.


A sudden anger rose within Oceana's chest.


Angry at the world for forsaking the young man to some crime lord.


Angry at Hjalmar's so called employer for threatening his life so.


And angry at herself for not realizing sooner.


"I wonnae let them, Hjalmar."


She growled, fists clenched so hard her knuckles went white.


Determined, icy eyes lifted to stare into the human's dark ones.


"I wonnae let them lay a finger on you."


I swear it...


@Lo Alyssa
 

Hjalmar wasn't entirely sure how to respond. It wasn't that the gesture was unwelcome, but he was used to handling everything on his own. That's how it always was, and a part of him liked that. He didn't need anyone... or did he? He found himself longing for the companionship he found within the group, though he knew he was only an asset, not a friend. He wanted to be friends with them, he wanted to be friends with Oceana...


But friends and trusting in those friends was foolish...


But maybe he was wrong about that. A part of him screamed he couldn't risk such a thing, that if he tried, it would never last. But... another part of him yearned for that relationship more than anything. To have someone at his back and by his side, just like his mother always was.


He wasn't sure whether he should thank her, or be concerned with her statement, "Thank you, Oceana..." He slowly mumbled, "But... I don't want you getting mixed up in my troubles. I made mistakes, bad judgments, and now I'm paying for them. It's my weight to bear, and it's not something I want to burden you with."


It took him much effort to pull his eyes from her piercing gaze, but he managed to look away. He truly did appreciate her words, and the fact she'd no doubt back them up with action. But if Oceana, or anyone in the group for that matter, got hurt on his behalf. He'd never forgive himself.
​










Sweat dripping into his eyes, Yaroslav blinked, looking up at the princess. Her voice was so quiet, it was hardly audible, but Yaroslav had keen ears. He was taken aback by the suggestion, "Ah... Yes." He answered, looking around for a sword.


There was a rack not too far away, lavished with an assortment of dwarvish weapons. He picked up a short sword, made of that familiar dwarvish iron that appeared as brass. It was heavy in hand, as the dwarves usually liked weight in their swings, but it would do.


He returned to the princess, taking a stance in front of her, "Draw your sword." He commanded gently, whilst trying to recollect his old memory on swords.
​



 
Oceana scowled at Hjalmar in disapproval and simply said,


"I donnae need your permission."


Then she fished out a fat, leather pouch from one of the many pockets on her handmade breeches.


She tossed it at the thief.


It was full of gold coins and shining, rare stones that glimmered in the starlight.


And with that she strode of to find Valeiah.


The human had an archery lesson.


@Danika @Lo Alyssa
 
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@soundofmind (sorry I took so long to respond)


"What would you do if you could use it again?"


That was a difficult question for Nameen to answer, and not only because of her sensitivity to the subject. It wasn't as if she hadn't asked herself that many times, but that the answer changed frequently.


There were times when she felt bitter, anger having replaced the spot in her chest where anxiousness usually claimed. In answer to that question she would imagine herself travelling back over the mountains to her village. Once there, she would track down everyone who had ever harmed her because of her parasite, and wrap them in the eye's illusions. She would cause them agony, perhaps drive them insane making them feel as if they were having their eyes cut out, over and over again....


But that was only sometimes.


Mostly Nameen imagined herself mastering her eye somehow, and many different paths for her would come out of that. It would be a valuable asset in combat, her blind spot being replaced with something much more potent than simple sight.


As for the answer that she was going to give Bo, she wasn't entirely sure what she could say without giving too much away. Adding to everything there was a part of her that wanted to confide in Bo completely, but the other more dominant half urged her to stay quiet. She had revealed enough already. For now at least.


Not wanting to answer with another, I don't know, Nameen only said-


"I want to master it," since she wouldn't be able to do anything before that. Not if she didn't want what happened the last time to repeat itself.
 

The princess nodded, and pulled her sword from her scabbard. She held it with two hands, and prepared herself with a stance, though it was an awful stance and she could be knocked over and defeated quickly. She awaited for Yaroslav to start teaching, though she wasn't sure what his methods were.


@Lo Alyssa
​
 
"Mm..." he nodded, looking down at the stream of water in front of them. "I wish to do the same with my own magic," he replied, in agreement. "I feel I still have much to learn..." He pondered, unsure of what it was he would have to do to fully access all of the power he possessed - nor did he know the extent of the power that he had in the first place. For all he knew, he cluld be at his limits... but somehow he felt there was more. There must be more.


He was silent a moment, but spoke up before Nameen could (not that he expected her to, though). "I won't tell anyone, by the way." He promised, his gaze returning to her. He hoped she would trust him, but for now all she had was his word. "About why you're here. About your eye. That's your business to reveal, and talk about as you want. I... I trust you'll bring it up when you want to, or when it's necessary, if it ever is." He wondered under what circumstances it would be...


"What you say is safe with me." He smiled. "So no worries."






(It's fine!! I'm a little late myself a lot of the time, haha @Rydellius)
​
 
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Valeiah was sitting against a rock and snoring. Her hair covered her whole face. She was a brown snoring bush.


It was clear on her face, underneath all the frizz and curls, that she wasn't having a good dream.


She was walking up to a body.

A half skinned body, sitting in a pool of blood. A body that was obviously cut open and missing organs. One missing a hand. With frizzy hair and freckles, and dark skin and scars on her knees.


It was her mother.


Valeiah jumped awake in a cold sweat, hyperventilating and frantically looking around for bodies. Instead, she saw Oceana.


@OlKaJa77
 
The elf finally found Valeiah resting against some rock. She awoke with a start and Oceana was surprised to see fear in her eyes.


The normally strong-headed human was breathing heavy, sweat beaded on her forehead.


She didn't bother to comfort the girl. Somehow she felt human would rather not have to talk about it.


Besides, human business is human business.


"Hello there, Valeiah" she tried to say in a friendly voice despite her foul mood. "You are owed an archery lesson, I believe."


@Danika
 
Valeiah swallowed thickly. "Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that."


She stood up and brushed dirt off of her dress. She was slightly embarrassed that Oceana out of everyone in the group was the one who had to see her scared.


@OlKaJa77
 
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