Closed The Morning After

[Alija]

Alija twisted her hands in each other, rubbing her forehead occasionally between twisted skin. She couldn't sleep - she tossed and tumbled, pulling her covers over herself before kicking them off, unable to be comfortable in the her position. She wouldn't ever be, she knew that. Elias' face kept appearing in the shadows of her room, in the shape of her clothes, in the doorknob and through the glass looking over Nyka. His words echoed through her mind. Curses. Rotten blood. Fortifications, bait, her mother. Things they were trying to forget, because they seemed to dangerous to think about. Things he had kicked the dust up off, and they now stared her straight in her face.

Almost like looking into a mirror, but a mirror that stared into her soul and reflected the things she didn't want to think about. She couldn't cope, she told herself. Elias had launched too much on her, too late, too quickly. No one would be able to cope. No one. She wasn't the only one.

Telling herself this, she rose, deciding sleep was pointless, especially this lost in her thoughts. She changed back into comfortable clothes - work clothes, still covered in soot from the day before, and headed downstairs, careful on the stairs. They creaked, if you stepped on the wrong one, but she knew the right ones. She lingered by the closed door to the living room, where she could sense Elias' sleeping figure. No, she could see it. Her breathing had stabilised without any effort, her heartbeat slowing as magic flowed to her sight, letting his body take form through the door as a cloud, strangely not visible, but still noticeable. It was magic; it wasn't meant to make sense. What didn't make sense, but should have, was why she could sense his aura. She hadn't tried, she hadn't even thought to do it. It had happened naturally and it scared her. The smith knew control over magic was one of the most important things to have, and this was clear proof she didn't. It scared her.

Only an effect of an unsteady mind, she told herself. She would calm herself down, and it wouldn't happen again. There was only one way to do that, and Alija hurried down away from everyone, taking no notice of the shelves of items and halting beside the fire. It didn't take long to get it burning hard, with a hammer in hand and piece of metal on the anvil. She clunked at it, watching it twist and shift beneath her strength. There was no goal, no nothing. Just herself, with the heat of the fire and the smoke in the air and the noise of the hammer. It let her think, but more importantly, it let her relax.

Her mind went loose, and everything seemed to fade away. In the morning, she could talk to Elias again about it all. He would sort things out, and help, of course. Maybe she'd find her mother again, which would be great. Maybe something would happen. Or not. At the moment, she didn't seem to care. She placed the metal hanging off the anvil, and let it bend round, distorting it even more. She could see a face in it. Elias' face, which changed to her mother's. Overcome by sudden rage at something, she smashed against it, pressing the metal flat against itself, before letting it slide across the forge.

She sunk to the floor beside the anvil, resting her back against the slightly warm metal. The hammer remained in her hand, pulsing with her breathing. She couldn't do this. It was just too much. She pressed her hands on the hammer, letting it bob on her trembling leg. Breath. Breath. She returned to her meditation, that she used to have to do to see things properly. Picturing a flame in her mind, she let it flicker and burn, burning away everything she couldn't stand. Then Alija stood, taking the metal again. She hammed slower this time, forming simple shapes: cubes, pyramids, spheres. Things to anchor her, not to twist her mind further. She could do this.

[Elias Caldera]

16th of Winter, 515 AV

With the the dawning morn and the waking world that followed, Elias Caldera found himself in a... perplexing pleasant situation.

Usually the preamble to the rising sun was a harsh gust of cold morning wind against shivering flesh, or just an equally unpleasant boot to the ribs, either often served suitably to stir him from whatever wretched attempt at rest had seen him deserving of such. The truth of the matter was, the Ravokian had spent so much time travelling through the wilds -hacking and hiking his way through through strange and hostile lands- killing and clawing for every bell's worth of sleep, that he had almost forgotten what waking up on a bed -well, a couch to be precise- actually felt like. This was no two-bit tavern either mind you, where the comfort of soiled and bug ridden sheets often belied the fact that at any moment a blade with your name on it could come creeping through the front door as soon as you started winked off. It wasn't much better than the cots of the Vitrax back in Ravok either sadly. They were the crude and unyielding kind of torture rack that every petitioner in the Stryfe knew all too well, yet often found themselves longing for after a hard day's beating/training.

Whether it was was the monsters that roamed the wilds, or those that hunted in the city streets, the kind of life the warrior had led so far had left him with a deeply ingrained sense of self preservation that warned him every night that closing one's eyes was akin to welcoming death itself under the covers with you.

Needless to say, come morning time one wouldn't be remiss in thinking it got at least a little bit better, right? Wrong, and especially so given these past few months on the hunt. Their relentless pursuit of the artifacts and Elias's own personal mission in Nyka had established three simple rules that each new day greeted him with: Get up. Get organized, and get ready to die, because this day, like many of the others that came before it, was very likely to be your last.

Today however, was different. Today was... well, you know 'perplexingly pleasant' and all that.

That fear he usually awoke to, the mind numbing, chest crushing pressure that collided with his thoughts as soon as conscious found a hold on his drowsy mind... it wasn't there. In fact, the only thing he felt that morning was a powerful urge to yawn, to which he indulged jovially with a creaking stretch of his limbs to match.

This was new.

This was nice.

This was family, he told himself mournfully. This is what he should have been feeling for all those years instead of the hollow emptiness of an absent mother, or the calloused fist of a disappointed father.

Ah, there it is. the droopy eyed sorcerer mused, recognizing the all too familiar sting of his own pathetic self loathing, for a moment there I was worried I had managed to actually avoid you. With an audible grumble, the mage pushed aside the somber thoughts and focused instead on the day awaiting him. It promised to be a beautiful, fulfilling one with what he had planned; the sun was shining and the birds were chirping, what other invitation did he need... though, now that he considered it, those birds had no earthly reason to be chirping in the middle of winter, and now that he was listening more attentively, he was damned near certain he could hear something roaring ever so faintly in the distanc- Nope!

No, nonono, no! Not even Nyka's unceasing absurdity was going to ruin this for him! Leaping out of bed with a renewed kick in his step, Elias ignored the craziness that no doubt awaited him outside and instead made quick work of getting himself dressed and presentable. He wanted to find Alija as soon as possible to fill her in and coax her into agreement with his multitude of schemes, and he knew just where to look for the girl.

One just had to follow the sound of the pounding metal.

As fate would have it however, another cruel test presented itself upon his discovery of the sound's source. Alija lay crumpled and collapsed on the floor of her own smithy, back against the anvil she had been wailing on so fiercely just moments before. Instead of racing him forward to comfort her in her time of need, the swordsman's feet simply slid him quietly away. The way here eyes were squeezed shut and her chest heaved with begrudging breaths immediately told Elias there would be no point in his rushing over to her side, or in trying offer aid for whatever ailed her so. No, he knew what this thing that affected her was, and there was no medicine or magic in the world that could rightly spare her from its wrath. The mage said nothing as he peered around the corner at his distressed cousin, quiet and content to simply watch and wait.

The two of them may have grown up world's apart, but everyone, even Elias, knew that no one, regardless of who they were, wanted to be seen at their lowest. What was she expected to do if he had gone bumbling into the room, wiped her eyes and gone on pretending that nothing had happened? It would have been mortifying to say the least, and not just for her either. The stryfer knew that if he had ever been caught crying by any of the other kids during his training days, he may have very likely killed them just to keep them quiet. Everyone knew everyone else was doing it whenever they got a chance, but to openly show that weakness, to admit it to the world... well, those were the kinds of kids that didn't make it out of there alive to say the least.

Quietly, the mage opted rather to give the Zeltivan her privacy as he crept his way back over to his belongings and grabbed a few things from his pack. By the time he was done, the tell tale cacophony of clattering steel against steel informed him his cousin was back on her feet again. In fact, the auburn haired smith seemed so enraptured in her work it appeared as if she hadn't even noticed his approach, let alone the pair of blue eyes hovering uncomfortably close over her shoulder. "Some things never change," the sneak cooed warmly before abruptly taking a cautionary step backwards just in case Alija decided to start swinging from the unexpected fright. He greeted her with his best smile, and motioned towards her work with a raised brow. "The way you were wailing on that thing seemed almost 'therapeutic' for you." Elias inquired, a noticeable touch of curiosity in his tone. "You must see something in the steel that calms you, something others can't..."

He was goading her of course, interested to see if she would reveal something unexpected about her magical abilities that he himself could relate to. He suspected, but couldn't rightly be sure. Perhaps she would let slip what he sought, or perhaps she would take note of the belt around his waist, an odd little assortment of his own strange hammers strapped his side as if he were a some sort of smith himself.

Perhaps, perhaps not, either way, Elias had feeling he had just stumbled unto something that could serve to not only raise his kin from whatever slump had dragged her down, but also finally gauge her magical ability in the process. It was killing him not knowing what the little witch was capable of, but common sense and a mage's courtesy had kept his tongue in its place. Plus, who knows, if he was right, maybe this was the next step in getting him back in her good graces again after so long, god's knew he was going to need it.

[Alija]

His voice chilled her, but she had been expecting it. It was only a matter of time until the source of her feelings came down, deciding to confront her once more. Make things even worse - perhaps all the gods were after them too? Fierce with anger, she slammed hard against the metal, reducing the cube she was forming into a wedge shape.

But he didn't want to hurt her. He was family, and family looked out for each other. Elias had come to her needing help, and she wanted to help. He hadn't meant to scare her or hurt her or whatever he had done to her. Focusing hard on her breathing, she tried to steady herself, bringing the metal back up in a simple cube shape. It took her a few moments to reply, making sure she thought about her response; making sure she didn't let emotions overwhelm her.

"Do you know how powerful metal can be?" she thought out loud, half answering his question, half settling her thoughts on something mundane and calming, "I can build empires. I can break empires. All with a hammer and some fire." She shaped the metal carefully, flipping it constantly and smiling at the clunks as it knocked against the anvil. "The steel calms me, because I can control it. I can do what I want, how I want. I can create whatever my mind wants, without any complications. The only limitation I have is reality itself, but even then..." Lost in thoughts, she settled for silence.

She hammered some more, then stopped completely, somewhat relaxed. It was his presence, somehow. It was meant to infuriate and bring out the pain, but just having him there settled her. She wasn't alone in this. She wasn't alone at all.

Turning, she left her metal on the anvil but let the hammer hang lightly in her hand. He looked well, curious, a little distanced, but with a smile to his face and a good mood in the air. Perhaps last night could just be forgotten. Perhaps it could be just another dream.

"How are you, cousin? Did you sleep well? How are your injuries?" she asked, out of tradition rather than anything. The questions seemed so out of place but they were necessary. They were needed to bring normality back, and flush out the emotions overwhelming her. "Could I interest you in something to eat? Some tea?" But she didn't want to leave the forge, that was obvious from her hesitation to ask, from the way she stood against the anvil, from the hammer still in her hand. It was her shelter, the one place she would always be safe.

She looked Elias up and down again, taking it in. The hammers half-surprised her, but she wasn't certain what to expect anymore. They weren't normal, though. And he wasn't a smith - a true smith would understand the beauty of steel beneath a hammer and a fire burning at their back. She gestured toward them, with a hammer of her own, waiting for him to bring it up. She was too tired to question and investigate - but not too tired to be curious. This would take her mind off things, at least. Hopefully. Forcing out a smile, she looked straight at him, breathing deeply, waiting.