[AW] áldott herceg;

[Káin]

eyes bowleg, lookin' crooked in the face Káin thought about the questions he must have for this woman, for a tale told to this dappled man, curious as to what you could ask a ghost on the lips of the community. Could one even ask such questions to something that does not exist? No, he thinks, that questions will go unanswered, unheard by the woman he seeks an audience with. To this, the Son has an answer. "A Szellem - your ghost - has no answers, lest she make herself known once again," he coos quietly, ominously. Beyond the dapple there are shadows dancing between the trees; perhaps the woman he seeks is lost somewhere among them. But Káin is no religious man, he does not believe in spirits, in a soul or a heaven or hell, he does not believe in anything beyond the emptiness of death. That is a reality he has come to face, he has learned and accepted it over his brief lifetime. He has seen it take many before, the disappearance of his own father was shrouded in rumour of Death (but he knew nothing of it). The man has only a subtle response to learning of the Son's origins. God's blood and faux love, the story of the powerful prince of a distant powerful nation. And now? He was a king among nobodies; he was an absolute something while the rest of them were just stains and smears in his life. He did not matter here, not yet, but that will all be in due time. For now, he is a man in the shadows, a distant figure gazing out over the lands new to him, foreign yet growing increasingly familiar. Eventually he may find comfort in seeing the looming trees and silence within the forest, the weather that he has yet to adjust to. But is that who he is? (No) Does he truly settle? Is he ever satisfied with what he has? (No) He wants more than the world can give them, more than it is capable of offering. He has inherited his greed from his father; Emyr too was driven by his desire for material things, for glory and a glistening gold throne. The woman, godly from the way the man describes the many generations she has come to outlive. Immortality - the Son concludes. He once dreamed of it, of shedding mortality and gifted with eternal youth, but a man can only rule and conquer for so long. In his lifetime he will rule, he will be prominent and powerful, he will be a brutally just king and his gilded kingdom will be blessed by deities of all faiths - but he will not live to see it through eternity. He will pass his power down, his sons and daughters will take the throne for him, will carry on this twisted family tradition. Immortality, no matter how appealing some may believe it to be, is a cruel mistress that is only meant for the truly detached and boundless. "No, I grew up far outside of these borders. I have only arrived within recent weeks." He turns a head to the setting sun as the low syllables slide, as he wonders about the distance he traveled before setting hoof in this land. The Son is a blessed thing to enter this country, he has granted it the privilege to taste his sweat against its earth, to feel the warmth of his skin surrounding its flora, to feel the weight of him standing over it. To see a half smile from his companion, Káin feels interest pique. So, this man was curious about his past? Although not an elegant weaver of grand tales, he could offer what he had. And so it goes. "I am from a land that must be almost a month's journey from here, Miskolc, a nation ruled by my father. I left once my father believed me ready, seeking to satisfy my curiosity of the world outside of our border. I could of happened anywhere, but it was here that I came, simply by chance." And he keeps it at that, short and sweet. A taste of what his past holds, savory and leaving some wanting more than what he offers. "And what of you? Where did you begin your story? What is your purpose here?" If he must share, he demands something for this knowledge; it comes at a price, knowing his history. -- @Eik basically just chose a random hungarian city to name káins home country after C':