Ride With the Sunset (Callisto)

[Athrias Stormborn]

Timestamp: Late afternoon - 78th of Summer, 510 AV A powdered blue sky was spread across the horizon like the stroke of an impossibly broad paint brush. Wispy clouds trailed across it with a semblance of order. They looked as if stirred by an ocean current toward a destination of which only they were privy. The sun was low in the heavens but shining valiantly. The glowing disk was not yet on the verge of surrendering its reign of the sky to the moon and stars. Every object and structure seemed awash in gilded light as if the day was making a desperate bid to remain just that much longer. A breeze chattered easily through leaves of the trees and meandered through the Windmount stables. It carried with it the full, robust scents of Summer and the merest hint of the Fall to come. It was a fine day to be out under the sky and out in the wind, at least in Athrias’ humble opinion. Athrias had been riding for hours. Letting the wind whip at his clothes, through Ermir's mane and into his face. Nothing mattered when the wind was with him. Whenever he had too much on his mind and not enough time to dedicate to unraveling each issue, he took to the stables and let his horse stretch his legs. Ermir was a tall Gildling steed, standing sixteen hands tall and colored a rich, reddish brown. His mane and tail were a lustrous black that the young man took great pains to keeping groomed well. Ermir was rather behaved for a Gildling but was not completely without his own brand of mischief. Thankfully the horse was contented this day with just riding through the golden light of the afternoon. The fledgling Stormwarden was leading his horse back to the stable reluctantly. He found himself wishing there were a few more hours in the day. Athrias considered the fact that Ermir’s lightly shimmering coat would produce a bit of light if he chose to ride during the night. Even so, he found himself meandering back to the stables. He did not have a clear destination in mind and would not just wander aimlessly outside the castle walls. Having reached a decision he was not entirely satisfied with, his lips pursed and gave an outward sign to his dissatisfaction. Athrias swung his leg over the back of his steed and landed on the left side of his horse. Ermir had been his for about two years and the young man had been learning to ride slowly but surely. It had not gone nearly as well or quickly as he had originally hoped. As he walked, Athrias found his thoughts wandering to his mother. Had she been there to learn from, he would have eagerly absorbed all she had to teach about riding. She was back with her Pavilion among the Opal Clan. If his sadness and anger had started as a jagged stones in his heart, the years that passed served as the flow of a river to smooth them completely. What had been a howling sadness had become a quiet, reserved melancholy that Athrias no longer found acutely painful. Even as entwined in his thoughts as he was, it would have been hard to miss Callisto. Her skin shone with a copper brilliance that was only accentuated by the sun. The Ethaefal woman’s hair was a dazzling red that hung long and straight while horns the color of pearls curled from her temples. They were not those of a beast but instead looked as if they were crafted from glass. Athrias had never seen anything like Callisto and took a few moments to absorb the sight of her. The woman seemed to the Stormwarden as if she had sprung from rays cast by Syna herself and he found her form achingly beautiful. The closest he had come to any divine being was many years ago, in the grip of a storm brought to him by Zulrav and even then he had not seen the face of his god. His light blue eyes did see Callisto’s Ethaefal form very clearly however and it did not take a scholar to know that she was not entirely of the mortal realm. Athrias did not know this in the sense of practical knowledge; more accurately it was something he felt was truth. Athrias was battling the desire to stare, to be held enthralled but the one thing he could not defeat was the curiosity regarding the Ethaefal before him. He almost felt as if he shouldn’t approach Callisto; she a sculpture crafted by hands infinitely more skilled than any mortal and he a humble patron of some divine museum. Looking to Ermir as if the Gildling were a confidant urging him toward some form of equanimity, the man shook his head slowly. There would be nothing gained from staring like a child at Callisto so he walked toward her. As he drew closer, Athrias could see that she was but mere inches shorter than he. “It is a fine afternoon for a ride. Have you taken one today?” said Athrias with a warm smile. His blue eyes would meet almost evenly with her citrine colored orbs should she turn toward him.

[Callisto]

Walking again out in the woods! One would assume after the little bout with nature and a certain rather haughty man that she would have taken the hint that the outdoors was more trouble than it’s worth. But Callisto was drawn to nature, and when Syna reigned in the skies, it was all the more tempting to step out and bask in her rays of light. Sustenance was needed, of course, since the Ethaefal rarely ever ate in her Konti form, however during the long nights, she would often find herself craving the feel of waves on her skin, even when she knew the sea lay far beyond, in the east.

During the day, Callisto would take to her Gildling, Glo, who had no trouble displaying his desires in such a way that it was impossible for the Ethaefal to get the horse to continue on unhindered. She would make stops quite frequently, but all the more to practice with. Today, Callisto allowed Glo to begrudgingly follow her as she walked barefoot through the trees and brush, with not but a simple white, nearly see-through gown swaying in the wind. She raised her head toward the heavens and breathed deep, taking in the scent of the earth, the trees and the various fauna that thrived there. But it was not the same! There were no soothing voices of the divine, no harmonious sounds of a language long since forgotten. Callisto was alone in this world. Alone and forgotten.

But something caught her eye on the horizon. An establishment built on the side of a large castle. Ah, the Stormhold Castle. She had heard the name before, but this was the first time she had laid eyes on it. Not very impressive, was her first thought. Crude, she dubbed it, and primitive in making. Where was the refinery? Mortals, she deemed, were not adequate enough in the making of grand structures. And what a shame it was.

But there were eyes on her. Eyes that bore into her skin, and when she turned her own citrine gaze to meet his own, she quickly realized it was another one of those silly humans she’d had the misfortune of seeing quite a bit these days. Her face was devoid of any emotion. She showed no disgust or discomfort, only a very small, charming smile. He seemed to regard her like some queen to behold. But it suited Callisto just fine. Let him assume what he wished, it would be advantageous to her either way in the long run. Now when he spoke, she stepped aside, and then turned to glance behind her. Glo was nowhere in sight, the bothersome animal. However, the Ethaefal did not speak just yet. She approached Athrias, so close, in fact, that her soft breath fell on his lower jaw. She held that position for several seconds, scanning the stranger, and yet she never once laid a hand on him.

Then she stepped back, “You don’t smell nearly as bad as the rest of your kin. I would agree however, it is indeed a fine afternoon. If my steed had not wandered off to do what mischief he could, I would have most likely ridden here…” She would not reveal her name, nor share in any formality unless he wished it of her. And even then she might simply disregard him.

[Athrias Stormborn]

The Stormwarden had proven over time to be an avid watcher of those around him. He knew his fellow men and women well; their general mannerisms, expressions, ways of speaking and the like. In comparison, Athrias had deemed himself different than most, standing apart from those around him. He wondered idly if the woman before him ever felt that way. To some the assumption of one’s individuality could be considered a mild form of vanity but Athrias saw it differently. No one he knew could hear whispers or voices on the wind like he could at times. In most circles, those that heard “voices” were deemed mad. Also, most he observed in Syliras did not ache to be out in the open air or looked longingly at the sky when a bird passed overhead like he did. Athrias chastised himself for the thought; surely there were others that felt such longings. Even in that same moment, Athrias found himself rather indifferent to the thought of such kindred spirits; there would be little to no chance of meeting all of them. Being bound to the God of Storms he would certainly be drawn away from most that tethered him or at least made the attempt to. It was this thought that caused him to subconsciously distance himself from deep connections with others. When Callisto turned her gaze to him she also smiled. It was a polite expression, which her face framed exquisitely but try as he might he could not gauge the warmth of it. Athrias tried to read an emotion beyond what she displayed but had no luck. Inwardly he marked the color of her eyes, almost the color of a topaz with splinters of rubies shot through them. He followed the glance Callisto cast behind her, as if she were expecting someone or something to be there. The Stormwarden stood still as she approached him and did not shy away from her closeness. Callisto was mere inches from him and for seconds that seemed to somehow stretch themselves, surveyed him. He could feel her soft exhales along his jaw. It was a gesture that implied intimacy, but her hands that never touched him implied otherwise. It was an invisible boundary that she did not violate, yet he found himself strangely at ease with the idea of her ignoring it. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth yet he pursed his lips to quell it before it had a chance to fully appear. It was only fair to allow her to scrutinize him the way he had stared at her. The Ethaefal’s closeness made him acutely aware of the sheer nature of her robe. He could not help but see the elegant lines that formed her frame underneath it. There seemed no imperfection on her body, no blemishes on the smooth expanses of her coppered skin. As determined as Athrias was to remain still to allow Callisto’s eyes to appraise him, Ermir had made no such agreement. The curious Gildling was interested in the woman before them and poked his muzzle around the tall Stormwarden’s right shoulder, endeavouring to investigate the Ethaefal’s scent. A shade under horrified, Athrias intercepted his inquisitive steed’s nose with a gentle hand before it had a chance to completely invade her space. Ermir snorted his frustration and pulled his head away to canter off to a patch of grass more interesting than his master’s need to spoil his fun. By this point, Callisto had stepped back and finally spoke. The Stormwarden chuckled and let the grin he suppressed moments ago finally appear. It was warm and it carried itself into his light blue eyes. His kin. He let the words sound in his mind, to see how it felt. It was an interesting choice of words to Athrias because he had never thought of them as such. The only one he had considered kin was his father and, even then, they were so different it seemed only their blood that bound them. Callisto had obviously been around humans a great deal, at least enough to ascertain their general scent. The Stormwarden tried to mask his pleasure at the distinction she made between he and the apparent unwashed masses. “I would be lying in rather grand fashion if I said I was anything but delighted that their scent has not completely permeated me. I hope in time to completely rid myself of it, truth be told,” said the cerulean eyed Stormwarden, a trace of his smile remaining. Athrias idly swept his hair away from his cheek and along his temple as he looked at her questioningly. “You obviously know of my, people,” he paused only briefly, not pleased with his choice of the word but continued, “I wonder what you call your kin? I have never met anyone like you.” The last statement was delivered with a measure too much emotion. Which one, however, he could not exactly pinpoint. Excitement? Some form of adulation? Athrias took a mental step back and controlled his tone, “I embarrass myself. My name is Athrias, may I ask your name?” Athrias had lived in Syliras for all of his short life. An existence that was made miniscule by the sheer amount of years and lives before this one that Callisto had lived. He had no knowledge of the Ethaefal and the deep emotions the fall from Ukalas could create in them. Yet even without knowing this, he could almost feel that any information she gave him, any story she told would be worlds removed from any he had heard before. Though the Stormwarden had followed his first question with another he sincerely hoped she would indulge him with answers to both.

[Callisto]

“You have some shred of decency, and some measure of respect, boy.” And indeed, he was a boy in her eyes. He was right to assume she had lived many eras, far more than any mortal man could ever hope to achieve but she could not help have that subtle sense of aloofness to her. Her eyes, although the color of molten flames were cold in nature. She viewed everyone around her in a different light, those untouched by the rays of her Goddess. And what a shame she had to share! Deep seated rivalries. Wars and bloodshed. The Jealousy in her was growing in her heart, but she only needed to focus on the subject in front of her to evaporate the sudden thoughts.

They were lives long once lived. She needn’t worry about such trifling things when in a presence of a man that held her in utmost regard. He was genuinely curious about her, as most she had met were. They wanted to know what she was, they wanted to feel her horns, touch her hair dipped in fire and her skin that glowed and shimmered with a radiance unmatched. And he would let him have all these things, for a price.

“Of course I know of mortals.” She remarked, almost uninterestingly, “I see them everyday, always bothersome, always unaware and insensitive. What can one possibly learn from such creatures but the multitude of weakness that lies in all men’s hearts? Greed, lust, desire, hunger and pride.” She circled him, as if sizing him up, but her expression remained passive, unchanged; unapproachable. “I am an Ethaefal. A Fallen One, a Lost One, yearning to return to the Mother Syna.” It seemed like a routine for her, explaining herself over and over, and perhaps she had! But whether she seemed irritated it was difficult to tell.

“Tell me, why are you so interested?” She held off on revealing her name and instead converged all of her energy into the release of her astral arm, detached like a thin film from her joint on her elbow, then the rest of the arm until a phantom limb hovered in front of her, invisible to the naked eye, “When you see a creature you’ve never encountered, do you approach it willingly? Do you give out your name in the hopes you will become acquaintances? That creature does not know right from wrong, it could attack,” And at the word Attack, Callisto’s astral limb shot forward, encircling itself around Athrias’ arm and jerked him forward so roughly, his chest pressed against the Ethaefal’s own. She gave him another charming smile.

“My name is Callisto, human. And your admiration is greatly appreciated.” Her voice was soft, gentle and yet distant. But when Athrias would look down, he would see her hand clutched onto her three-pronged suvai, pressed against his stomach almost threateningly. “Do not take me lightly, however, I wish you no harm, I only assume caution.” She released his hold on him, reverting her astral limb to it’s state bit by bit, from the joint to the rest, until she could feel and move it once more. “It is a beautiful day, Athrias, what shall we do today?” And the Ethaefal seemed pleasant now, the shadow of her hostility vanished like the wisp of clouds overhead.

[Athrias Stormborn]

Callisto’s first reply may have been a praise, after a fashion. It did not seem as if she used the words casually so Athrias took them for perhaps a bit more than they were worth. The ethereal woman called him a boy. Had it been someone else, he may have bristled at the word. Yet the way she said them suggested it was not an insult but merely a truth in her eyes. It did not seem as if she were open and friendly, at least not immediately. There was no warmth in her eyes and the inexperienced man could not pierce the veil that kept him from reading her emotions through them. The Stormwarden had fancied himself a rather good judge of people and their intentions but Callisto was an entirely different challenge. Rather than concern the Stormwarden, her expressionless eyes had him intrigued. In his experience, those that gave nothing through their gaze had the most lurking underneath. Neither her words of men nor the tone she used upset him. Athrias could assume from the examples she gave of men that these were the prevalent vices that she had been exposed to. The Stormwarden could not help but feel a twinge of sadness at this. There were mortals that held virtues and values apart from those she mentioned. Athrias considered himself a good man and tried to master these desires in himself. Callisto began to slowly circle him and her appraisal of him seemed to continue. He followed her with his gaze and a turn of his head as she came around his other side for her expression forbid anything more. An Ethaefal? He had never heard of their race but Syna, he had heard of the goddess of the Sun. What he knew past that, however, was little. When Callisto asked why he was so interested he blinked a few times and considered his answer. “I am not sure how I could be uninterested,” Athrias said with a smile. The Ethaefal’s tone as she continued made his smile fade but it was because her words made a great deal of sense. The Stormwarden did not have much time to think about her utterance because an unseen force wrapped itself around Athrias’ arm and yanked him forward. Adrenaline shot through him and tiny needles prickled up his spine. His blue eyes searched for a hand but could see nothing. His chest was pressed to Callisto’s and his eyes traveled from his arm to the Ethaefal’s smile. “It is my pleasure,” said Athrias as he nodded. Finally his eyes caught the sight of her suvai against his stomach. His muscles tightened involuntarily under his tunic. She could have opened him in a motion, likely before he even noticed. He never went outside of the walls of the castle without his own blade but it was looped through the straps of his pack on Ermir’s saddle. It was obviously not an attack but clearly meant to impress upon him her ability to defend herself. He certainly would not take her lightly. Callisto’s mood shifted and she seemed as if she had never issued him a warning. As she reverted her astral limb the Stormwarden’s hand traveled to the back of his head and he rubbed it thoughtfully. ”I would suggest a ride through the forest perhaps? There are the Hotsprings a short ride away. I am sure Ermir would not mind if you were to ride him,” suggested the Stormwarden. He was not sure if the Ethaefal had walked or rode into the forest. If it turned out her horse wandered away, he would be fine with simply aiding her in searching for it. Athrias walked slowly to Ermir and grabbed the Gildling’s reins. He grinned as he leaned against his horse and awaited an answer from the stunning Ethaefal.

[Callisto]

oocNo words can describe how sorry I am that this is so dreadfully late. Forgive me!

“Perhaps you are correct in your interest.” She replied curtly, “I would be…if I were in your position.” Meaning human no doubt in the mind of any sensible person. It would have been a lie to say she did not enjoy the raw surprise she incited in Athrias after her little act. But he also seemed unafraid, even in the face of potential danger! Was he a fool? Or was he foolhardy? Such little resolve it took to release him, and yet the Ethaefal had half the mind to slice off his arm where he stood. A reaction, that was all she wished. So surprising how the normally regal woman had the intangible idea to incite something more out of this man. Was it a result of boredom? Perhaps.

When he offered up the possibility of a hot spring, she cocked her head at him. “You are so bold, sir, inviting me to such an intimate location having just met me. It seems your manners do lack some refinement, but I will not hold it against someone who hails from such a less than honorable heritage.” There was a smile lingering on her lips. “I jest, of course. I am not so cruel to condemn something that is so ingrained in you.”

Citrine eyes glanced at the horse and a slight look of disapproval crossed her countenance. Instead, that charming smile greeted Athrias once more. “That will not be necessary. Shall we walk? Why tire your poor steed when we can have a healthy exercise walking through these lovely woods.” She waved over to him, as Callisto began her graceful gait down the road. “Come,” she called, “Show me these hot springs, I am curious, perhaps I will add it to the few locations reason enough to warrant returning to visit.”

Should Athrias agree, and after several chimes had passed, Callisto once again spoke, “If you would humor me, Sir Athrias. I would be curious to know where it is you hail from…. Have you traveled often? Do you know the ley of this land? And of your family, do they still linger?” It was as if a child was asking him the questions only a child wished to know, but there was genuine curiosity, one apparent in the enthusiasm of her words.