Closed Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow (Karyk)

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

Outside the gates of Syliras Day 1 Summer 517 AV Mid-day Salara leaned back against a corner of one of the wagons watching the children. Sharay, Becker and Decker were among them, innocently playing within the shadows cast by the walls of Syliras. For only a few brief chimes the youngsters had been quietly over-awed at the sky scraping presence of the fortified city. But now the backdrop was just another place and this one much safer than the scenes they had already experienced. Oh, to have their simple understanding with simple needs and wants. Word had gone out – Syliras was closing and all of their long toils and troubles to get here in the migration would continue as the caravan must move onward. For the first time in days Salara felt a little inkling of hope betwixt divided wishes. Karyk would not be able to settle his family here so could be free to choose to move them anywhere. It was true, she was concerned for his future with her – short that it may be; but his words and actions had begun to make her feel as if they could overcome anything together. Her arms cross rubbing her coarse hands against opposite forearms, remembering the strength, security and heat of his embrace. Now she wasn’t certain she was strong enough to walk away for his sake. How selfish was she to want to have these feelings and more for at least the rest of her life? She was Kelvic, driven to find a purpose, a belonging with another. The impetus wasn’t strong as she’d already bonded and been broken, but she still felt the pull of her nature. If Karyk would have her…. why not allow herself him? They could enjoy a fulfilling life together; and if he so chose, he could even bond with another someday. Sharing him wasn’t something she would wish; but the choice to have him, share him, or not ever feel his touch again was much clearer to her now. They could support his extended family and make one of their own. She could experience a child’s true youth through her growing children; one she was never permitted to realize on her own in the slave city. Riverfall. She could go the faster route by ship with Fallon getting there sooner to prepare the way for the caravan’s arrival or perhaps send a message to Fallon to meet there later in the season and travel with the caravan. She could learn to cook from Hortense and Oleander could teach her the healing herbs so she could properly care for a family. She hadn’t spent much time with Kesh or Tollivant so this could allow them to grow closer as well. With Karyk’s drive to work hard and Salara learning her own trade, why, they could choose any lifestyle they wanted. Dare she dream? There were big decisions to be made and the outcome was still uncertain. So she waits in patient ambush. The only certainty - that he would come to her after settling with the city’s officials.

[Karyk]

Karyk's head throbbed, a ball of pain behind his eyes. He'd spent too long today attempting to negotiate with the knights and their people, to be let in to settle down. He'd given every concession. They'd build their own homes, out of the way. They'd feed themselves. They'd pay higher taxes, they'd all pitch in for whatever the knights wanted. They offered up children to become pages and squires. They offered the world to Syliras. And still, they'd been refused. So now came part two of the plan. Figuring out where to go next. Which is where Karyk found himself now. Circled around him were many of the merchants and scouts that had come along, looking to him for direction. The argument was clear, Riverfall or Ravok. And those in the circle were split. Many of the merchants wanted to go to Ravok, especially those who'd been before. They spoke of how wealthy Ravok was, and safe. A city on a lake surrounded by forest, a true gem of a city. They told Karyk how there was no hunger there, no starving children, no crime. But they didn't take kindly to outsiders. It took a while to be accepted. Riverfall wasn't any less appealing. It was on the coast, picturesque, a blue lion perched on a cliff in a sea of grass. Everyone there was a hard worker, laziness not tolerated. Not as great for women or Kelvics though. Nothing terrible, but it seemed they were viewed as lesser people. And Karyk had four women in his family on this journey. And then there was Salara... Karyk could definitely see a future with her. They clicked together so well, so suddenly, made him feel things he hadn't in ages. They'd even talked about possibly going to Riverfall once Karyk got his family situated. Except that plan was clearly thrown overboard by those cowardly, despicable Knights. "Alright! Enough! I heard y'all. Clearly we're split on this. Keep it simple. Figure out who wants to go where, and we'll split up. Two caravans, two ports." He looked over one of the scouts shoulders, and saw Salara there, watching over the kids. This brought a smile to his face. While the other scouts were bickering over where to go, which journey would be easier or more worthwhile, who would be in charge of the scouts when they split, there she was, doing her scout duty, watching over those who needed it. That was why Karyk trusted her more than any of the others. She actually cared. It wasn't just a job for her. She was invested in their safety. Karyk pushed his way through the scouts a bit roughly, getting a few annoyed glares as he walked away from them, as he made his way to Salara. He watched the kids playing, eliciting a small smile upon his road wearied face. Reaching Salara, he could see her face tormented by thought. No doubt she was mulling over similar choices as he. And he knew that would be all there was to talk about right now, as much as he hated the idea of it. So before they delved into the thick of it, Karyk pressed a single rough finger to her lips, to silence her before she had to say anything. His hand moved along her cheek softly, gently despite his rough hands, worn hands. It slipped along to just behind her ear as he leaned in, pressing his lips firmly, desperately to hers. His lips kneaded heavily, taking in her wild scent as he did, his chest heaving and heart pounding, as he pushed himself against her, pinning her lightly to the wagon. After many long moments, he pulled away, body still against hers, as his eyes searched her own. His simple smile fell a bit, "Now we can talk."

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

About to say, ‘Hey’, Karyk silenced her parted lips with a finger, effecting her worried look to soften into something much sweeter. She presses her cheek into his palm, rolling and rubbing her face along its path till gentle fingers cup behind her ears; a most intimate sensation, a type of surrender. Her breath faintly rolls out to be captured and traded with his through a deep kiss. It was different, this one. There was more to it than usual but her mind shied from it’s meaning. Instead she carried his weight, the light press of his body, to soak up the feel into memory to warm her through lonely nights to come. It had always been likely they would part in Syliras, if only for a spell. Her invitation held - Riverfall. He had not asked or offered her other-where but for Syliras. Long fingers glide across the length of his chest over hard ridges of muscled ribs, over the heavy pulse of his heart to connect a circle aback his neck. She chases him for another slow kiss to impress her welcome, ‘follow me’ onto his brain. No desperation, no demand; only full of warm promises. Though with breaking contact her blood streaks cold to see his smile drop. Not Yet! Dipping her head to tuck against his chest beneath his bearded chin, her hands fall into a squeezing hug. He will feel her silent nod pressed close over his heart and then she steps back to catch his hand. ‘Not here’ her look implores; this was not a talk for the eyes of all of Syliras and the caravan. Sharing a gentle squeeze, she leads him into the shade of the city’s stony wall. The air cooled noticeably within the shadow, or was it instead feral instincts warning of upcoming distress? Yet the walls kept a deceptive heat, false radiation of warmth and comfort– surely a trick of Syna’s. One she gladly fell for by pressing her back close to the stone for any aid to hold back the creep of chilling numb. Looking into his face her eyes trace every feature but for his eyes. She cannot look there. Her voice comes soft but neutral of opinion, “Word or rumor carries fast. The caravan is to split? Destinations for Ravok and Riverfall?” When, why, who and how were apparent. The only question left was the most important one. “Where?”

[Karyk]

Karyk's chest tightened as Salara's lithe fingers worked their way up his torso. Leaning forward at her arms' insistence, he pressed his lips back to hers, softly this time, comfortably, as if he'd just come home from a hard day at the docks. But after her face hid, avoiding the inevitable, as he felt that desperate squeeze, his throat tightening at what was coming. Her lips had been full of hope, but her hug wanted nothing to do with this cascading future upon them. And Karyk could feel those desires tugging at opposite sides of his heart. Why couldn't they just say petch it to everything? Disappear into the forest together. No cities. No caravans. No one worrying on them or to be worried about. Just the pair of them, figuring it out together. But the tug of her hand in his pulled him from that farce of a dream. She had her duty to herself, her own future, and he had his to his family, and those under his care. They weren't slaves by right, but by duty. Karyk stepped into the dull shade of the wall, a pit forming heavy in his gut. His mind was made up and his heart was screaming at him for each agonizing second. His face pointed down at hers, but his eyes didn't dare look at this woman before him. They were cast on that god dammed grey wall of stone that forced this choice upon them. In that moment, he was momentarily enraged, wanting nothing more than to blame it all on these cowards. But he knew that it wasn't the case, deep down. Everything that had happened, the caravan forming, Raven's death, chasing after Salara's heart despite her warnings, the decision that was already made but unsaid, all of it was completely on him. He just wished that it wasn't the case. Each word that leaked off her lips made his features grow softer, sadder. And slowly those neat lines of brick and mortar turned blurry, as his deep brown eyes filled with tears. When she finished, he turned away from her suddenly, wiping his eyes with his forearm. And that was when he turned his gaze down to her face, seeking out her eyes, until he caught them, forcing her to hold with him. "I can't." It was clear that it wasn't him saying that he couldn't make a choice. That was his choice. They knew she was going to Riverfall for Fallon and a career. This made it painfully obvious that he would not be following. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her it would be okay, that everything would be fine. But that would be lying to her. So he turned away from her, severing that physical connection, tearing his gaze away as his eyes filled up yet again. Taking long strides, he tore himself away from that heartbreak in the shadow of Syliras. He ignored the scouts and merchants looking to him for guidance, for leadership. He ignored his sister who could see something was wrong, and for once she fell silent rather than demanding answers. He ignored the Solerans and the other passengers that mulled around his carriage as he grabbed his pack and axe bundle. Slinging them over a shoulder, he ignored every single person as the tears flowed into numbness, as he hiked his way up the road, heading for the nearby woods. He needed to be alone. He needed to not feel his heart ripping itself from his chest. He needed to not see her face after having said those two words. Two words. He'd been worried about an entire conversation, but it only took two damn words. How had this happened so quickly? All of it? It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right.

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

‘I can’t.’ All the torment and torture squeezed into those two syllables, paired with the look in his eyes as he tore his gaze from hers, leached the last lingering hints of heat from her body. She froze such that when he ran, this time she did not follow. But what did follow was a low moan of despair pulled from deep within her core, buckling her knees sending her sliding down the cold wall of stone into a heap, her fingers pressing her lips closed to keep from crying out – calling him back. Pressed small between dirt and stone, violent shudders wrack her through a chime while normally dexterous fingers grope across her face to rub her stinging eyes. Each amber orb felt as if it rolled in sand filled sockets. There were no tears. Why wasn’t she crying? Because it was his decision, whatever the reason didn’t matter. She would not argue, cajole, or beg otherwise. It wasn’t her nature to ask for things she wanted and she would not take what he was unwilling to give. Salara had obviously failed to be what he needed, regardless of want. Gasping for breath past the solid knot blocking her throat, lungs ache as they expand to capacity and release in a whoosh. A few more deep breaths begin to control the voice wailing from inside. All for the best. She had warned him after all. She could not be his later future or apparently his current. He had been the strong one for them both after all by choosing their end now; before lives were changed and paths altered, before she had to choose selfishness over sacrifice. Before obligation and commitment kept them together, him with her, perhaps for pity’s sake. In a fashion, he had saved her. She felt it resolutely but still her heart felt twisted and stretched – sorely misused. Uncurling she pries herself from the joining of wall and earth using the unyielding stone as leverage to come to her feet. If Karyk could be so strong to choose, then she would be strong enough not to burden him with her unfulfilled wants and needs. It was time to go. Riverfall over Ravok. At least he hadn’t asked her to stay and become his slave…. Each step became more numbing than the last as she came upon the carriage to retrieve her pack. She struggled briefly with the tent’s bulk to stinging eyed frustration before another deep breath and concentration brought back the numb. What’s the use of a tent on a ship? She should leave it behind; but instead her fingers continue to move along the coarse canvas, remembering… before setting it with the rest of her meager possessions. “Heyas Salara,” a bright voice popped up behind her. Karyk’s niece, Sharay had seen her unloading her tent. “Are we camping out here tonight? I saw uncle go into the woods to chop wood. Won’t we be going into the city? I’d really like to see it.” The fiery little girl’s prattle cracked a slight smile into her grim features that she pushed much brighter before turning around. “The caravan might camp here outside the walls tonight, Sharay.” She hadn’t heard what provisions he had made with the city officials either. “But I will be sailing out to sea upon a grand ship this evening." The red head’s bright smile dimmed, “You mean you aren’t staying with us?” “Ahhh, no, sweetling. My journey with all of you was meant to end here.” The little pout displayed upon Sharay’s lower lip was but a fraction of Salara’s own disappointment so she kneels to draw the child in for a hug; perhaps squeezing her tighter than intended before moving her to arms length. “But here. I have something for you and your brothers so that you will always know that, in my heart, I’m watching out for you.” Twisting she reaches for her pack and after a tick of rummaging she pulls out three short waxy leather cords, each dangled with a wolf’s tooth pendant. The child’s eyes grew as wide as her smile with a small reaching hand up-lifted, “Are they the wolves’ teeth from our camp? Thank you!” She was such a smart girl. Salara’s exaggerated smile turns down at the corners, sadly fond, “This is from the very same creature I killed that night. You remember that sometimes you have to be strong and fight back?” The small ginger head bobs assent as Salara loosens one cord at the knots, sliding the necklace over the girl’s curls to settle the polished tooth upon her small chest. “When you see your uncle, be sure to give him your brothers’ for safe keeping.” More quickly than a striking viper she is knocked nearly upon her arse as Sharay leaps in to wrap short thin arms around her. “I’m a gonna miss you,” a quick squeeze and she’s gone, darting off to show her momma her new jewelry. Saying what you had to say and leaving quickly must run in the blood. “I’ll miss you too,” she whispers back with sand scratched eyes. Karyk wasn’t going to get off so easily. Hoisting her pack and tent to her back she runs both hands up her face, over her forehead and through her hair, takes a deep breath and heads across the clearing to the copse of trees outside Sylira’s defensive perimeter to hunt the only prey she will always regret letting get away.

[Karyk]

Karyk stormed through the brush of the nearby woods, following the trail that the robed man had pointed out earlier, the trail that he would take to Ravok. Continuing along it, Karyk found himself hating his choices. Why did he choose to volunteer for that lumber gathering group, where he met Salara? Why did he choose to organize a caravan and leave, rather than stay and try to work it out? Why did he choose Ravok and family over Salara and a future family? Why was life no longer simple? Because he wanted more from life. He didn't want to just live the boring life anymore. He'd wanted excitement. He'd wanted adventure, passion, fun, danger. But he hadn't been prepared for the cost of such things. Hubris was his sin. Never again. If he could make himself stronger, more knowledgeable, he wouldn't lose anyone ever again. He'd be strong enough that people would always follow him, rather than having to choose between him or something else. If he wanted a life of adventure, of danger and passion, he needed to earn it. Karyk pushed through some brush and eventually found a small clearing between trees. He sat down on a mossy stone, setting down his pack when something bounced out of it. Confused, he realized that it was his mallet, the same one that he'd used to help Salara raise her tent back at Priskil's Pond. A pained smile adorned his face as he picked it up. It truly was the most reliable of tools, well balanced and worn. An idea crept into his mind, and he rustled through his pack, and he pulled out a small chisel and hammer from his woodworking kit. Pressing the chisel blade against the Karyk started to tap it with the smaller hammer. Small shavings fell away as the metal bit into the wood, and with each tap it cut deeper and further. Karyk focused carefully, keeping the mallet head pinned beneath an elbow to keep it steady. He noticed nothing else around him as he continued to etch into the wood. Once it was done, blown off of shavings and smoothed down a bit, Karyk read the words that were now carved into the handle. It wasn't his finest work, but it was something. "May your tent only fall when you want it" Karyk slipped the mallet into his pack, and sat back on the rock sighing. Why was he out here? Was he just running from it all? Instead of standing up and doing his duty? Doing what was right? If he was going to pick duty over Salara, he needed to actually do it. Leaning back on his hands, he peered through the Bronze Woods. They were nice, plentiful and clean, even better than the damaged farmland they'd passed for so long. He wondered if the forest around Ravok was nice too. Did Riverfall have a forest? Salara seemed to love the forest. Would she be happy there, investigating people in this new city? Would she be happy being a second class citizen? "Gods I'm an idiot.."

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

Salara had trouble figuring out which direction Karyk had taken so spent nearly half a bell looking for sign of him on several well-trodden paths. There were no telltale broken twigs or out of place scuff marks that couldn’t be made by anyone and every footprint layered upon others. She felt out of her element in this populated area after so long being capable in the Wildlands. It further fed her already insecure thoughts about this situation and the decisions she was making for her future. All the more reason to be resigned to these separate paths and not let the pain of it over-shadow what would likely be their last chimes together. Wandering and watching for sign she soon hears a light tap, tap, tapping. At first she thought it a tree pecker, but head tilted to better hear she follows the sound as it gets louder, realizing it was more like metal on metal. Then the tapping stops; but alongside the path ahead she sees where something large had broken through the brush. Dropping her pack to the side she follows it in to find Karyk stretched back against a mossy stone. The sun-dappled shade lit his features as he sat in contrast against the green bright moss. Sad was the predominate expression; but thankfully he seemed more at peace, which lightened her soul somewhat. It would have been much harder to do this if either of them were still visibly tormented. He was talking to himself as she approached so she wistfully answers, “I wish I could agree.” Approaching him slowly she crouches to tuck against his side, pausing only for his lifted arm to snuggle close to feel protected one last time. Head resting against his shoulder where their eyes could not meet she sees the motion of his heart thumping in the vein beneath his beard. It raced. Softly she begins speaking as her fingers lightly smooth circles across the fabric of his shirt brushing small slivers of wood from his chest, “I understand. You have to do your best by Natya, Sharay and the others and Riverfall is not the place for young women. You see more of a future for them than making babies to advance another race. They would have little to no options growing up there.” She smiled softly against his chest feeling his heart begin beating more gently. “Among other things, I had hoped Syliras would be charming. I was counting on a reason, any reason at all to stay.” She’s silent for a moment but speaks again. “Karyk, I told you once I was a slave but not where.” Her tone carries a hint of determination with a touch of pride. “I cannot go back after finally fighting free of it.” How could she best explain to this man who did not know what he would find before arriving there? How could she relay the aspects of her life there in a few brief words? “Slaves in Ravok are branded upon their hand where the mark is easily seen by all. But even only a young kit, when I was strapped down for the marking I fought back. The slaver punished me by branding me here instead.” She bends forward, pushing the bulk of her hair aside to show the slave brand; a now fuzzed and faded black tattoo of a screaming cat inked upon the back of her neck. “Any time my nature was realized I’d be caught and have to prove I was already owned just so I would not be re-marked and sold off to a worse fate. It benefitted my master in that, if I were careful I could pass for human to the newcomers along the wharf; and not having an obvious brand, a freewoman as well. Patrons were less likely to try taking advantage of me while I minded his shop. It benefited me because it allowed me to function outside of Ravok without the obvious onus of my past for all to see.” Her head tilts upward seeing his profile chin to top, “So I was able to get away and put it behind me in light of a better life.”

[Karyk]

Karyk looked up, eyes finding the face to match that voice he knew too well. Of course she was here. And part of him knew she would always be there if needed her. If he'd allowed himself to make the better decision. Before he could dwell any further, there she was, her warmth against him in the crook of his arm. And once more her wandering fingers were trailing over his chest, his heart beating heavily just from her presence. Her woody scent mingled with her feminine musk, only to remind him of those times they'd spent together. Those many nights when she'd not had night duty. That night at the pond. Pulling her in just a bit closer, he listened to her. He enjoyed the sound of her voice. And she talked so much, which let him stay quiet as he preferred. And she did well putting to words his thoughts, even those he'd not shared. Clearly Salara knew him well. This relaxed him, that she at least knew where his head was, even if his heart couldn't follow. But as she continued, Karyk's heart sunk. He'd had no idea about any of this; that slavery was seemingly standard practice in the city he was strongly considering going to. It truly was such a foreign concept. His eyes fell on her branding, and he was sickened at the thought. He knew he could never condone slavery, could never own one, nor could he stand idly by while people he knew were enslaved. And he wasn't surprised that she fought. She was a true wild cat after all, a woman of the forest, meant to be free. It was weird picturing her as a shopkeeper, even if it was against her will. To domesticate her was a true crime. Salara was a forest cat, not a city cat. Karyk knew he could never, would never ask her to return to Ravok. It would be heartless to do so. And yet, he had to think of the women in his family, in his care too. And he hated this, for the choice was so simple, that it was essentially no choice at all. And it was the same as before. They'd have to go their separate ways tomorrow. That bitch Morwen be damned. But at least they had today. Karyk kissed Salara softly just above her ear, and squeezed her just a bit closer to him, unsure if there truly was anything that could be said in response to her opening up. He knew she'd want to discuss it, at length, in detail. But it would change nothing. So he sat there with her for a spell, enjoying the sound of the lively forest around them. He reached into his pack, and pulled out a pouch of the now dried cherries that he'd picked at their pond. He opened it up and offered her some, "So let's leave it behin' ya." He slipped his free hand into hers, squeezing lightly, "An' make the mos' of our day." Since that's all we have left. Chuckling softly, "An' maybe if we 'ate it where we go, we meet back at our pond, a year from now. Gotta love them cherries righ'?" He let that question linger, half silly thought, half serious offer. He offered a half hearted smile, trying to not dwell on things that would not be, and could not be.

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

As bitter sweet as it all was, not knowing the outcome had been a long-lingering weight since Priskell’s Pond which was now lifted. Softly she sighs to the pursed press of his lips against her temple and peace truly settled her heart – if only for this time, these last special moments. Listening to the cheerful chirping and rustle of forest foragers, their silence covered a deep conversation heart to heart of their thoughts. Her every inhale was an imprint of his scent upon her memory – more woodsy lately but the effervescence of Suvan salt seemed to seek him out in familiarity as already he took on the flavored tang. As if an agreement had been reached within, he speaks their mutual answer aloud - One for the memories. Karyk shifts about, displacing their warm connection briefly as he pulls out a pouch, open and tilted. “Ahhhhh, you still have some!” Her grin could have easily fit young Sharay’s face as she helps herself to a few. Nearly unknown to her, two fingers tuck three pieces of the dry wrinkled fruit into her front pocket to be found again later. Popping one into her mouth, her skin flushes with the memories associated with their flavor which must have also been the same for him as well, ‘Our Pond,’ he says. His proposition pauses the popping of another cherry, leaving her mouth gaped open. It remains so as she sits upright and twists to face him. Her fingers finish their motion and the fruit makes several transits around her mouth while her eyes watch his smile teeter-totter between hope and regret. No answer. Nothing said, she uncurls from his side to stand and offers a hand to help him to his feet. Without releasing his fingers she lifts their hands high and circles below them, tucking herself neatly back to his side with his arm over her shoulder, still holding hands. With her first step to nowhere except a well-trodden path to their home, she speaks, “We’ll build it right where our tent was, looking out over the hazy waters at dusk when the crickets are loudest. It'll have at least three bedrooms and a broad porch so we can watch storms roll in. Do you think we could put a swing in the tree? For, you know...” Certainly it was like jabbing her thumb with a painfully beautiful thorn, but she wanted the image of their story to bring her comfort in dreams to come, to fight back inevitable nightmares while she's alone in the dark. Hope-filled dreams based on something they built together, even if only in their minds. 'Come with me as if,' encourages her squeeze of their clasped hands. Just a short jont before the pain becomes too brutal to continue.

[Karyk]

And rather than respond with a flurry of words as he'd expected from Salara, she stood and offered him a hand up. Karyk took her up on this, and stood, and soon found the woman tucked in next to him, against his ribs. Arm settling in around her shoulders he held her there, in the most natural position in the world. Karyk let her lead the way, and listened to her kind, fantasizing description of a house by the pond. Their pond. "Of course there'd be a swin'. An' a small dock for the rafts, maybe a barn. An' a smoker, for all the meat we get huntin' together. I'll teach the chitlins to fish, to build. We'll camp under the stars when the cherries ripen." It sounded perfect, and doable. Not like perfect dreams that were unattainable, like how he used to want to own and build his own galleon. But if he couldn't be in Zeltiva, what was the point? Other cities were fine, but Zeltiva was the only place worthwhile to build a proper ship in. Unless he had his own dry dock somewhere... but those took years to make. Karyk knew that they'd have to say more. And he really didn't want to. He just wanted one last day with this woman before... before they were forced to go their own ways. He slipped his arm from her shoulders, and took a step back from her, still holding her hand. Karyk spun her toward him, and in a single step forward, pressed himself firmly against the front of her body, his face inches from hers. His lips were a breath from hers, his nose teased at her own, before he pressed firmly against her lips, an arm wrapping around her waist pulling her tight against him. There was desperation, a yearning to give her everything he had, for one last night together. To ensure she would show up in a year if he did. His other hand snaked up along her back, as his tongue teased at her lips, his own desire firm and evident against her. He would talk no more. Karyk was, after all, a man of action.