jealousy, turning saints into the sea
swimming through sick lullabies, chocking on your alibis
but it's just the price i pay, destiny is calling me
open up my eager eyes, 'cause i'm mr. brightside
The atrocity that was this stallion's behavior was alarming. Vreis had been watching it from some time, the way the pretty dappled, veiled creature had seemed to want to run away, the way she had behaved. That poor man was NOT winning any brownie points with her. In fact, he was falling apart SO quickly, he was surprised she hadn't slapped him and ran away. But finally she did seem to give up, make an excuse. He could see the panic in her eye however, looking around, clearly not seeing the support she was searching for. Which meant now was as good of a time as any. The stallion paused, before turning in her direction, clearing his throat when he approached, expression gentle, concerned, his onyx eyes shining with compassion, "Forgive my intrusion miss, but I couldn't help but notice that . . . . interaction with the tall, pebbled fellow. Are you alright?" The knight was concerned, instincts budding up to offer her reassurances, even while in the back of the mind, the corrupted rebel leader was pondering on how he could turn this in his direction.
"I promise, I'm not out to shower you with uncalled for gifts, and force my attentions upon you. I'm just a knight passing through, who can't help but want to help protect a lady in distress." He adds, a touch of earnest to his tone, trying to keep her from assuming the worst on his approach, quickly dropping his head, "You can call me Vreis, I'm afraid my full name carries no weight in this world. Do you have a name I can call you by?" He had been close enough to here her pause, and having come from a world that feared magic, he knew the power behind a name, and had already altered his interactions accordingly, to soothe the peace, "Can I treat you to a tea, just long enough to see if that stallion loses focus on you? I'd hate to leave you alone, for him to approach again. There is many a merchant selling alcohol, and as a stallion myself, I am well aware of what alcohol can do to a mind. I promise to keep my muzzle to myself, and let you lead the conversation as well." He adds, still making sure to keep the space he had given her when he'd stopped a distance away, enough room for her to safely bolt away from him (if you ignore how fast he could move if he truly chose).
He grins then, youthful, boyish, and playful, "Though, I won't be shy to admit not minding sharing company with a pretty mare," He adds, his tone playful, light, winking to try and pull a smile from her, to see her relax, to see her loosen up, "Being a body guard until you feel certain that stallion won't encroach upon your person will certainly be no hardship to me. Pick a place, and place for a drink, or a meal; and I'll pay. If you would rather I leave, just say the word, and I'll be happy to do that as well." He promised, dipping his head towards her, waiting from that distance away for her to make the decision, all while keeping that friendly, boyish and charming smile upon his muzzle.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Torielle Notes: He's trying to be upfront about his purpose for approaching, while also trying to get her to relax by teasing her a bit. Fingers crossed he is playing his hand right haha, and will help her see stallions are awkward, not bad :P
Torielle had made it barely a half dozen yards before she was approached by another looming stallion. Her heart leapt into her throat once more, startled by his appearance even if he had attempted to announce himself prior to his speech. Her blue pools were wide with panic as she quickly tried to assess the situation, her limbs stiffening as her mind tried to catch up with what was going on.
He… he wanted to check in on her? The mare looked him over, taking in the leatherwork that bound his flesh as armour, the cloak that parted to reveal a strange chimera pattern of neutral tones strapped with a thin blade of some kind. The scholar had never been good with identifying weaponry, even when she had lived lifetimes within warring factions. She’d never enjoyed those ventures through the astral- they had always brought with them so much pain, and never was there a thing she could do about it. Her eyes quickly darted away from the sharp instrument to something else, anything else. They settled upon the antlers that grew from his temples and this, more than anything else, is what put the woman at ease.
Perhaps it was foolish, to see these extremities and find home and shelter in them, but the woman had been reduced to a child in her panic and any semblance of familiarity she would cling to. Gods, where was Veil?
He continued to speak, as if sensing her hesitation. Though she supposed it wouldn’t have taken much to read her tumultuous thoughts- she was wearing her emotions on her sleeve as it were. The stallion attempted to soothe her, speaking gently and with courtesy, introducing himself as a knight who had seen her distress and offering services of protection. Protection. Stars above did she ever need some of that right now. He offered his name first, shrinking himself so that his height was not so overbearing, and as he asked for a moniker to call her by, the tension began to fade in the mare’s shoulders.
This Vreis seemed to understand her hesitation, and at the very least, seemed to pick up on her displeasure in dealing with Jarek. He was a far cry from the conversation she had just experienced and it sent her head spinning like whiplash.
“I… yes. Yes,” She stuttered, no longer leaning away, no longer trying to create distance. “You may call me Torielle, Vreis.” She liked the way his name sounded on her tongue, in no small part because of its similarities to Veil. It was smooth, gentle, soft; unlike Jarek, which had been hard, cold, sharp.
As the stag offered her shelter and food she became painfully aware of just how long it had been since she had eaten. Had it really been so early that morning, when she had run into Eirene? Her stomach started to unfurl the countless knots that had wormed their way about her guts as the knight's words continued to soothe her. He didn’t want to leave her alone, in case Jarek was not done with her, speaking about how alcohol had a funny way of blinding the senses.
She nodded, clinging to that idea, though she had not smelled the sour tinge of drink upon the black stallion when she had been speaking with him. The shawl he had gifted her burned against her skin, the tome weighing heavily, the blank pages like an omen.
Torielle stepped closer to Vreis, allowing his company to ward off any other unwanted suitors and taking his words like a balm to her frayed nerves. She eyed him carefully as he winked and smiled, but his intentions did not feel so dark and foreboding. He had expressed a desire to comfort her, and the mare was in desperate need of that.
“I would be honoured, thank you,” she said. She cast her gaze about the tent stalls, her nares filling with the many scents of delicious food, nearly overwhelming. “I.. I think anywhere far from here would do, honestly.” The mare nervously glanced over her shoulder before returning her attention to the stallion before her.
“Thank you, Vreis,” she spoke softly. The delicateness with which she held herself was not entirely becoming- it looked as if the woman was trying to crumple into herself so as not to be seen.
jealousy, turning saints into the sea
swimming through sick lullabies, chocking on your alibis
but it's just the price i pay, destiny is calling me
open up my eager eyes, 'cause i'm mr. brightside
She looked startled, alarmed, like she was ready to flee as he approached (perhaps it would have been more lucky for her, if she had). But while there was a part of Vreis that almost switched his angle for this, he stuck to his guns, his expression genuine, his concern obvious. Still her limbs had stiffened, and he kept his distance, waiting to see if she would give him the chance to assist to soothe her frazzled thoughts, or if she would run before he had the chance to prove his concern was genuine, or genuine enough at least.
As she looks him over, that instinct sweeps him, a knight standing to attention, the gleam of armor, the cloak around his shoulders, the blade that sits proudly at his side. Ever inch the valiant leader, the generous knight - the corrupted rebel hidden deep in his thoughts. One side of his being wanted to help reassure the mare that all would be okay, the other side was already looking to see what angle he could get from this, how she could end up owing him. Ever the manipulator. Ever the gentleman. Two sides playing tug of war with his conscious.
However, of all the things that seemed to soothe the skittish mare - it surprised him that it was his antlers, sharpened into weapons of their own, that drove her to a sense of ease. What an odd woman. Still he speaks gently, soothing, offering assistance, offering her protection, before offering a name. She seems to relax more as he speaks, and he is relieved to figure out he is playing the cards correctly, saying the right things, settling the mind that had been ready to flee, until she no longer is leaning away, no longer trying to produce more distance.
She then gives a name of which he can call her, Torielle, and he smiles, kind, reassuring, friendly, "Torielle," He repeats, "Sounds like an angelic name, fitting of a mare who pronounces her arrival with bells. Isn't that how angels are supposed to annoyance their approach? You're not a wingless angel are you, My Lady?" The night asks, his words soft, playful, teasing. Trying to ease her further, to make the air between them that of friends. The sooner she saw safety and friendship with him, the easier it would be to soothe her mind.
It was then he suggest food, offering to continue to keep her company, and he can see the nerves she still carries about the being that had alarmed her so fully, She nods, and he grins again, keeping still as she steps closer, letting her choose the distance, even as he motions for her to walk with him, his smile kind, "There is no need to thank me, I am only trying to do what any man aught to do in such a case. I promise, we're not all . . . vile pigs who chase when we're not wanted. Sometimes, the young bucks need to get slapped a few times before they learn to not rush in, and get to know a lady first." He reassured with a laugh.
He nods at her request, smiling even as she glances over her shoulder, "Far from here, well let's keep you in the festival. You were looking around earlier - which meant you have someone nearby. I'd hate to pull you too far away from them. There are a few shops on the other side of the festivities, however. We can get food over there and find a place where you can relax and settle back. I promise, should the man approach you again, I'll keep him at bay." He shakes his head again, laughing, "You really don't need to thank me. I'm new to Novus, your company so I'm not spending a festival alone, will be more than thanks enough. I wouldn't ask a lady of more." He assured, black eyes glittering, even if his mind ran with all of the possible ways she could thank him if she truly wanted.
Some one really should have trained that silly stallion up while he was still a colt on how to approach women. Perhaps he'll give some rudimentary pointers later. For now, the knight was determined to see this gem relax, to help reassure that not all males were brutes. And in the very recesses of his mind, the manipulator was grinning, gleeful at the potential of just where the thanks she felt she owed them could be taken.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Torielle Notes: He can't decide if he's being nice to be nice, or if he should try to get something out of it, so he's just gonna let her think she's making all the decisions while he decides how this will play out xP
The stallion certainly did know how to charm a woman, and perhaps if she had not already been shaken up, she would have been more receptive to his words. As it was, she snorted softly and rolled her eyes as he called her an ‘angel’. They were sweet words, certainly, but untrue. If there ever were an angel, it would have been Veil, the mare who had come crashing down from the sky.
Her heart lurched as she thought of her beloved friend, her figure disappearing to some part of the festival with a stranger. Or another friend. Yes, it would have had to have been a friend. Veil would not have abandoned her for just anyone, she was sure of that. And she wasn’t entirely alone now. Vreis’ intentions seemed pure enough, even if he was rather flirtatious. At least he was less abrasive than Jarek and she believed he would take the hint if she chose to walk away.
She smiled and gave a tight laugh. Though she had begun to relax her gut was a bundle of nerves, and it would likely take some time for her to loosen up again. Still, it did help to have someone who was vocal about the previous situation, someone who would speak up about the indignity of it, really. Her audits flicked in embarrassment, stating, “Well, You are a credit to your gender, Vreis. I was beginning to think that the world had tilted sideways and something was wrong with me for not being equally enamoured with a complete stranger.”
Torielle was surprised and delighted as the stallion made note of her being in attendance with someone else. She wondered briefly just how much of the exchange he had witnessed, then, or how many other people would have seen the discomfort between her and Jarek without having said a word. It made her queasy, the thought that others could see such actions and not speak out. Perhaps she was overreacting, though. After all, he hadn’t done or said anything exactly out of line. His foreboding was in more subtle ways that she couldn’t quite identify.
The mare was pulled from the uncomfortable thoughts at the laugh that bubbled up from Vreis’ chest. It was a sound that pulled more tension from her shoulders, and her muzzle formed into a soft smile. “To tell you the truth, I’m no local myself. Novus is still an unfamiliar land to me.” She lifted her head, bells swaying slightly betwixt her antlers. “I would be delighted to share details of our ventures and what brought us here, if… if that please you?” The doe finished her query in a rush, feeling rather silly that she should feel so much more comfortable around Vreis in the few moments she had known him.
It must have been the genial knighthood that shone through. She was in need of a protector and light a beacon he had risen from the darkness and provided her that shelter. Yes, that was it. Once she had a handle on her nerves and she was with Veil again things would be right with the world. But perhaps spending the remainder of the evening with the stag would be best- Torielle didn’t even want to consider what would happen if she were with Veil and Jarek tried to approach her again. As crude and disheartening as it was, stallions tended to respect other stallions more than they did the whims of pretty mares, and she felt that Vreis was perhaps her best chance at being left alone to enjoy what little was left of the night.
jealousy, turning saints into the sea
swimming through sick lullabies, chocking on your alibis
but it's just the price i pay, destiny is calling me
open up my eager eyes, 'cause i'm mr. brightside
Vreis was working it, even if he wasn't really trying. His goal was less about charming her, and more about showing her it would be okay, that not everyone is out to be creepy. His teasing is light, playful. The sort of flirting that can be easily cast off as 'friends being friendly.' Of course, he was also a stallion, and so should she offer the chance to be 'really friendly,' well he'd eagerly take that too. But it wasn't the actual goal right now. Sometimes you have to lay the foundation before you can make the bed rock.
The stallion saw the smile, heard the tight laugh, and it was proof enough she was still a mess of nerves and uncertainness. He'd have to go pounding doors to find out who that reckless stallion was, and give him a stern talking to about upsetting a female so thoroughly. Maybe also offer a gift basket for making her easy picking for a fellow who knows how to charm like the best of them. He chuckles, letting his ears flick back, his posture shifting, his muzzle turning away from her - signs of embarrassment at her compliment, making himself appear just a little more boyish, a little less like that had been his intention, "Like I said miss, I wasn't trying to make myself out as something more than I am. Just your decent equine being, trying to make sure you're alright."
Clearly, she was falling victim to the charm, however, and there was a deep-rooted, primitive part of him - the part that thrived on the power of being in charge, of making others quake before him, that had him thrilled with this improvement. Yessssss, fall into him, see him as your savior, as your knight, as your protection and shining light. The knight in him however remained forefront, his expression still showing his concern, even as she seemed to take delight in his comment on her being with another.
He wasn't sure where that delight came from, was it a good thing that he noticed her. How did that not alarm her, that he had watched long enough to see those searching tells? Was she that comfortable that it didn't both her? Was she already so settled that she enjoyed the fact she had his attention? No, it was likely that layer of protection, his knowledge that she couldn't up and disappear without someone noticing. She couldn't have fallen under an unintentional spell so quickly.
At his laugh, she smiles softly, before admitting to not being a local, calling Novus unfamiliar, before her antlers chime like bells once again. The sound brings a smile to the stallion's face as well, and he cautiously reaches out, watching her, making sure it's okay for him to investigate the jewelry, that he wasn't encroaching on her space, before he'd let his muzzle bump a bell, the chiming bringing a brighter grin from his muzzle. "Cute." Was his only reaction, pulling back faster than he'd approached, before smiling with a soft sadness, "I can tell you of my stories, but they're not often happy tales. Let us find someplace where you can relax, shall we?"
He leads her further from the bonfire, from where Veil and Jane lay conversing, from where she had been speaking with Jarek, through some of the other tents, before coming across a more secluded area, small private areas arranged with smaller tents for others to relax, to converse, to get close. He chuckles, as if awkward, "It might be a little cramped, I'm sorry, I hadn't thought about how tight quarters these little hidey-holes were, just that they'd keep you out of his sight long enough for that stallion to likely trudge off from the night. If it bothers you, we can find somewhere else to sit." The stallion says with the air of a young teenager. Had he been human, one hand would have been shoved deep in his pockets, the other awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
But instead, he gently lifted back a flap of one of those little cubies, allowing her to choose if she wanted to enter, carefully angling his body so subtle body language would show his own shy acceptance of the situation. His muzzle having lifted the flap putting all the weight on her, so she'd have to be the one to embarrass him, making him drop the flap if she chose to walk away, the actions innocent, but all geared to encourage her to settle in close, to get used to him, subtle manipulations, to ensure Vreis got what he wanted, and while the knight swore it was for her own good, tucking her out of the eyes of that awkward beast, the manipulative rebel leader saw it as a chance to ensnare a pretty lady if his cards fell just right.
That manipulative side was determined to see her fold her hand before the knight was through, while the knight wasn't even aware there were cards out to play.
Torielle froze as Vreis extended his muzzle towards her, watching him warily, searching his expression for any sign of ill intent. When none became immediately apparent, she relaxed, the tension releasing from her shoulders, and he merely booped one of the many small bells that hung between her ivory branches. She felt immensely foolish for being so skittish in his approach, even though the mare knew that she had every right to be nervous, considering her recent encounter with Jarek.
The tome he had given her seemed to weigh like a brick against her side, where she kept it tucked. She’d have to figure out what to do with it, as she hadn’t really wanted to carry it with her through the festival, but had felt she was given no choice other than to accept the gifts from the brute. She hadn’t wanted to think about what kind of volatile reaction he may have had if she had rejected him outright, his obsession burning behind his motivations to woo her. That’s what he was doing, wasn’t he? Trying to woo her, because some gods from his homeland proclaimed that she was some kind of gift wrapped just for him. Her stomach turned queasy at the thought, and she was thankful for the distraction that Vreis provided, leading her away from the bonfire. Away from the scene of the crime.
“I’ve found that nonsense happy tales are much too sterile to be believed. There is happiness in the world, yes,” she said, following the stallion as he wove through the fabricated hallways of tents. “But I think it is foolish to believe that we are only made of happy endings and fulfilling stories. Real people experience life, all of life, in its darkest forms sometimes. Those stories are the ones that really shape us, I think. You never know who a person really is until you see them bend or break under pressure. Until you see them faced with an impossible decision. Until the ground crumbles beneath their hooves and all the world is in their grasp. Those are the stories that make a person.”
Torielle followed him blindly, certain that she wouldn’t get lost in the festival. After all, the grounds were within Delumine, and the field itself, while expansive, did not go on forever. The bonfire was a centrepoint of activity, and should she really need to find her way back, it would be relatively easy. Was this perhaps naive of her? In every sense of the word. But Vreis had shown her a trusting face, and she had already felt miles more comfortable with him than with Jarek. She’d deemed him to be not a threat, but a shield, despite all the dangerous weapons he carried with him, not least of which were the sword at his side or his own rack of bone filed into careful points.
He led her to a collection of small tents, the fabrics loose around their wooden poles, closing them off from the general flurry of activity surrounding the festival goers. She saw pockets of lovers pulled close, whispering sweet nothings, giggling lightly, though there were a few who looked like close friends simply seeking refuge from the crowds, much like herself.
Vreis stood awkwardly, pulling the curtain to a vacant tent aside, an apology and explanation falling from his lips. Surely he had only Torielle’s best interest in mind. After all, he had intervened and made sure that she was not left alone to be tormented by Jarek again if the stallion caught wind that she was not in fact with another acquaintance.
The mare shook her head, bells ringing merrily. “No no, not at all. I understand.” She stepped inside, her dappled body brushing against his mottled coat as she moved past in the small space. “I’d rather be out of sight than risk running into him again, anyways,” she said, settling down onto the large cushion inside the tent. There was only one, but she didn’t mind sharing. After all, Vreis was polite, and it would only be courteous to do so. He had been so kind in offering his aide and company, the least she could do was share a space with him while they swapped stories.
“How is it you came to Novus?” The mare enquired without much pretense, her tiara cocking slightly, ears pricked forward, eager to hear of his arrival. Her own had been fairly routine, at least in terms of astral projection. Until she had realized more than just her soul construct had crossed over from Ameyal to this strange, but beautiful place. Beautiful because Veil Nebula also called it home. She hoped that wherever the star was, she was happy, and comfortable. They had made plans to dance, and the doe was determined to still do so. She would talk with Vreis until she felt safe, and then she would go in search of the mare that made her heart flutter so that they could share a dance.
jealousy, turning saints into the sea
swimming through sick lullabies, chocking on your alibis
but it's just the price i pay, destiny is calling me
open up my eager eyes, 'cause i'm mr. brightside
Vreis watched closely for her reaction as he extended his muzzle towards her - noting the frozen behavior, the wariness. His extension slowed - allowing her to move if she so chose, but it wasn't until she relaxed that he allowed himself the boop of the small bells, grinning when he saw the look in her gaze, his smile reassuring that he understood why she had been skittish, "You'll just have to learn not all stallions are like that cobblestone idiot." He teased her, flashing a cheesy grin, "Some of us are far more handsome for starts." He added, playfully bolstering up, "And charming," He flashed her that charming again, "And just more entertaining in general." He grinned, dropping the act until the friendly, and charismatic stallion was once more himself.
Or this version of himself. The manipulating monster inside his head was noting the way she'd accepted the touch. Had seen the way she'd judged, dropping pretenses only when she saw nothing negative by her own approach. It meant he was hidden well, the Rebel who avoided even the gaze of the Knight. Settling down and making sure he took note of every little aspect of the mare. Silly thing, only waiting for the immediate responses. What if he'd been the sort to wait until the guard was down before lunging - having already gotten in close enough to be able to make that snap with no warning. How silly for her to not be prepared for such responses.
The Knight was happy to just assist however, offering company, reassurances, leading her away from the bonfire, leading her away from where unfortunate, demanding eyes could continue to watch her. As they move, she talks about the foolishness of happy endings and fairy tales. "You're a wise woman, Torielle. Not too many are willing to hear the tales of life, when they can hide behind the fairy tales of fantasy. Flights of fancy are not bad, perhaps; for a child before bedtime, to encourage the youth to slumber in peace while war wages around them, but there comes a time when even the blind must be told where they're walking, so they do not step on land mines." He agreed, "Of course, I think when your own life is dark, the taste of happy endings and fulfilling stories can settle the heart and give you the ability to believe things can get better; as well. When all you see is darkness, you need something to introduce you to light."
Oh how such a thought made the Rebel want to twist his muzzle up in disgust. There was no light, there was only darkness. Only those who would cast you aside. Build you up, just to watch how far you can fall. Would shower you in awards and compliments, only to scar your cheek a traitor and send you on your way, denying you entry to your home, your family, your brethren, your life. There was no light, just pain, betrayal and revenge. But the Knight craved happy endings. People able to celebrate together, to see people live their best life. The Rebel, oh how often he saw the Knight as a foolish being . . . . when the time came, when the Knight was not strong enough, as he always did, the Rebel would rise up, he would do what needed to be done, so the Knight could remain pure . . . because the Rebel knew what really needed to be done. Even if the Knight hid like an ostrich, burying his face in the sand so he could pretend the war didn't rage on around him. So he could pretend the child he cradled as he drew them from the burning wreckage was merely asleep. The Rebel would protect the Knight, because the Rebel knew the truth the Knight fought to prevent.
The wound there ways, and the Rebel noted the blindness the mare took to following him. Foolish creature. The Knight however was determined to uphold her trust so far. Drawing back the fabric of a tend, offering her the shelter, even as he stood awkwardly, trying to reassure, apologize and explain the same breath. She shook her head in acceptance, to the Knight's relief and the Rebel's satisfaction, stepping inside. Both men froze as she brushed against his built, her body warm in a way the man hadn't felt in so, so long. When was the last time he'd laid with a woman? He forceably cast those thoughts away, the Knight refusing to betray her trust, but the Rebel smirked in wanton desire. Perhaps all was not lost with letting the Knight pull the reins . . . for now.
She settled upon the cushions of the small tent, admitting to wanting to be out of sight. He followed her inside, gently laying down beside her, being careful to be as respectful as possible in the distance that he kept from her. Letting her choose how close they would lay, as she questioned why he was in Novus. His muzzle frowned, dropping, and that instant worry returns at the pondering of where his doves were. "The world I come from is not . . . like Novus. It's a place lost to a tyrant king who sentences those with magic to death, no matter the uses. I was once his knight, beholden to the King who took me in when I was orphaned. Gave me the chance to join his military, raise in ranks, despite no title, no monetary support. And rose, I did. I was proud to serve my king, turning a blind eye to just how cruel he became . . . Until I found one of my mares practicing magic." He paused here, "She begged me you know, begging I not turn her in. Promising she would disappear, never to return - no one would know I let her go."
He shook his head, his eyes regretting, and even the Rebel settled at the memory of what had been a turning point. "I took her to my King, as a good Knight would . . . and instead of the apology as what must be done was done . . . I was accused of treason, harboring a magic user. Branded a Traitor and exiled." He fell quiet, the slight twitch of his jaw, as if feeling the searing pain once more as the metal was pressed to his cheek. "It was when I first began to suspect my king was not so just . . . over time, I met with like minded individuals, a rebellion was formed . . . and who better to lead it than a former Knight of the very own King . . ." He turned his gaze towards her, impossibly black eyes swirling like oil in that moment, "Two of my men disappeared one night, through a portal. Just . . . gone . . . I followed them here, fearing the worst. Either deserters or kidnapped from our numbers. I both pray and fear it's the second." The memory of him approaching as the portal was struck, their wide eyes as the leapt through, even as he called for them -- it set the Rebel's teeth on edge. The Knight was a fool. The twins had abandoned him, just as his King had. Abandoned him, the rebellion, the people. Everyone. And he'd set it right. The Knight however held onto the concern of what had happened to them.
"And well, now I'm here I guess . . . Although, I realized a little too late . . . I'm not sure how to get back home. If I even can. I hope the people can forgive me if I'm not able to lead them to freedom as I had intended."
The doe watched the stallion with mild concern as he settled into the tent, his expression falling. She wondered briefly if she should not have been so bold and cut to the meat of the conversation. Perhaps it had not been polite to pry into such an obviously sensitive topic. Her dark features flushed with embarrassment at the idea of having committed such a faux pa with the kind gentleman who had offered to salvage her evening. Before her lips could part with an apology, however, Vreis began to speak and instead, Torielle tilted her head slightly, bells swaying between her antlers as she listened.
It seemed to pain him, just a little, to retell this story, and though it was like many that the scholar had heard or seen before, it pulled at her heartstrings. Too often men were twisted by their loyalties, that very precious thing used against them by those in power, or abused by those that they trusted. It was a cruel thing, loyalty, when given blindly. But how could one not, given the conditions? If she had been abandoned, then scooped up into the arms of a willing mother, would she herself not bend to every possible will in order to please the one who raised her from nothingness?
He paused, and the mare thought that perhaps he was seeing the woman’s face before him, like a mirage. Tori imagined for a moment what she might have looked like, and her minds-eye conjured the visage of dark, curly hair and deep eyes, pleading with all their soul for freedom. Her heart lurched, the woman shifting unconsciously, as if to accommodate the stone in her chest. Clearly the decision still weighed heavily on the knight; regret, and perhaps sorrow evident in his gaze.
Vreis spoke of his former king’s actions, his tone hushed. The mare shook her head, bells chiming in complete disregard for the somber tone of the tale. “Tragic,” she whispered. “That such trust and loyalty should be betrayed by one so clearly gone touched by power. Madness, it seems, always rears its ugly head in the form of no longer knowing friend from foe.”
At the mention of portals, the doe’s audits perked forward, listening even more intently to the words falling from the stallion’s lips. It resonated with her, and to know that there may have been others that came to Novus in such a similar way provided her some comfort. The mare relaxed a little more, leaning in closer to her white knight.
“I am sure that your people will find a way to forgive you, if not that, then they will at least be thankful for the tools you gave them to fight their fight and win.” Torielle took a breath, rolling her thoughts around before continuing. “I do wish you luck,” she said, “In finding your men. Jarek aside,” the name felt sour on her tongue and she couldn’t help the contortion of her features as she spoke it. “I have found that most of the denizens of Novus to be rather helpful folks, and I am sure that once you begin to look and ask around, you will find a helpful lead.”
The mare nudged him playfully on the shoulder with her muzzle, being mindful of her antlers and the small, cozy space. “Though I will say, it is somewhat of a relief to hear that someone’s journey mirrors that of my own.” She gave a lighthearted chuckle.
“Where I come from, I am a Sage, a scholar, a collector of stories. We use the art of Planes-Walking as we call it, to let our souls wander the Astral and inhabit other worlds to record histories and individual lives without interrupting the natural flow of the cultures and peoples that we are viewing. It’s generally a highly supervised practice, a spiritual practice, and one that takes many years to master.” Torielle smiled, indicating the elaborate hoop that circled from her nares.
“We can be identified by our piercings, as well as our vows to Gaia. Celibacy and to be made barren in exchange to live countless lifetimes in pursuit of knowledge.” The mare shifted again, becoming more comfortable. It was not often that she spoke about herself, preferring to hear the tales of others more than recounting what she considered to be a rather boring life.
“There is a belief among my people, however, that those who are chosen by Gaia for a higher calling, will not only pull their souls through the Astral, but their bodies as well, to finish out their lives within whatever dimension she sees fit. It’s considered an honour, reserved for only the oldest, wisest, most cherished of our knowledge seekers.” The woman looked down sheepishly, her words less confident as she continued.
“I’m not entirely sure why it was that I was brought to Novus. I’m only a babe, really, merely thirty years, though to my understanding, Ameyal ages her peoples very differently from other places. I believe here I am…” Torielle paused, trying to work through the numbers. It had been some years since she had come to Novus, and while those years were but a blink of her old life, they weighed more heavily now. “Five years,” she said finally. “Still a babe in my eyes, but old enough by any other equine standard, I’m sure.”
She tried to wave off the thought with a flick of her tail, getting back to the important part of her story. “I had been meditating privately, seeking guidance from Gaia, when I began to walk the Astral. I’m not sure when it started, or how long I was there, but when I emerged from the monochrome in-between, I found myself in the dead of winter, within the Viride Forest of Delumine. While magic was something that was known to me, I’d never really experienced it personally the way I have since coming to be here.” The mare forced a chuckle, lightening the mood that suddenly felt so sour in her heart.
“The first soul I met when coming through that fog was a stallion who wore lightning like a cloak across his wings- at first I thought he might have been a god. It was a real shock to find out he was nothing more than a citizen patrolling the borders of the land. Since then, I have found that Novus is quite full of magic users, and that to be blessed by the gods with such gifts is not a rare occurrence in the slightest.”
