Freedom's Weight [Sitkanis]

[Lysander]

Spring 90, 511 Syna was preparing to relinquish the night to Leth as the blinding golden sun hung low on the horizon of the Denvali coast. Silence seemed to hang in the late spring air as a fisherman finished hauling the last of the day's nets into his small dinghy. Labors of the sea had ravaged the middle-aged man's wrinkled face and leathery skin, and deep-set cyan eyes told of far more weathered journeys. With a final heave and a deep sigh, the last of the weighted nets bearing a meager amount of fish for the work he had done setting them had been pulled into a messy pile on the shallow bottom of the wooden boat. "Aye, seems te be de end of de day, ol' bahd." The man's lips twitched into a smile as he peered over his shoulder at an equally shaggy-looking canine whose tail wagged at the sound of his master's gruff voice. The small animal's attention was soon divided and a silence-shattering bark exploded from its body. Then again, and again. Annoyed, the fisherman turned towards the setting sun, curious as to what had drove the mutt into such a fit. Then he saw it, if even for a split second. A flash of a small figure, then the splash as it hit the calm surface of the sun-kissed ocean. Ripples calmed, then nothing. "By Priskil -" His eyes widened and he fell back onto the rough bench, frenzied calloused hands fumbling for oars. He had heard of such events happening, legends of ethereal figures dropping from the sky and living among humans - but those were merely legends, fish stories. Weren't they? I'm free. Salt water stung wide brown eyes and a young boy grasped for the surface, unsure of which way was up. Opening his mouth for air, he managed to take in a lungful of the salty ocean before panic swept over him and he coughed and struggled beneath the surface. Leth, the name sounded awkward in his head, it came to him in a language he had not spoken in what felt like a lifetime. Any attempt he made to recall a more familiar language failed him. Despite this, he knew the significance of the word. It was that of his protector, his patron god, a burning obsession one could only understand if they had experienced it themselves. Where are you? Despite his confusion, the boy knew where he was. Something had happened. He'd slipped through the cracks - a fissure between the realm of the divine and a volatile world he once knew. Thrashing, fighting the current, thin legs kicked for the surface. Then it hit him. Die again, and leave this world and this weakened mortal shell and re-join Leth. Seemingly by chance something rough brushed against his naked body, something wooden. Consciousness fading, his weak, fleshy fingers gripped onto the wood. The fisherman leered down at the child that was attached to his oar and with a swift movement, nearly capsizing his small boat he leaned over and grabbed the child under both arms, hauling him onto the stinking pile of nets. "Ey!" His voice was rough, clearly annoyed that this child had played such a prank on a poor fisherman. Damnable kids. "Where's yer mudder, she oughta know you be out here scarin' de lights out of fishermen." The twisted look of annoyance would fade as he noticed the boy roll over into his stomach, violently coughing salt water out of burning lungs. This mortal shell needed air. Air he sucked in over and over voraciously as his heart thumped against his narrow chest. Yes, he remembered this body. Though, very little, he knew that it had met its untimely demise in excruciating pain. Pain he was feeling now in his chest, having hit the water hard and nearly drowned. "Where ..." The word awkwardly tumbled out of his lips in an exasperated breath. It sounded ugly. His voice, not that of a boy's or a man's but something in-between. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the man that had pulled him out of the water. He could have died again, perhaps Leth would have taken him back. But no, he was still alive. How dare this man mess with fate. He didn't want to be a weak child. No. This was wrong. And this - this stranger, took it upon himself to meddle in his affairs? Deep brown eyes narrowed and he sat up, hands balling into fists. As he shifted his body, Syna slipped into the sea and the pink-purple sky relinquished itself to Leth. "Answer me, boy. I'm taken ye back te yer mum an' she can deal wit' -" The fisherman stopped mid-sentence as, to his astonishment, this child burst into a blinding white light. It was if a star had fallen into his boat and replaced the lanky child. The light illuminated the water around them, and the fisherman's dog burst into another chorus of sharp, frenzied barking. Within the core of the light, the boy's figure grew significantly from that of a boy's to a young man. The light only lasted a few seconds before it faded completely, leaving in its place a breathtakingly beautiful son of Leth. Deep golden eyes were still peering angrily at the surprised fisherman, who couldn't help but gawk at the man that was now sitting in his boat with little evidence of nearly drowning chimes before. Fear rushed over the fisherman. "Take it! Take everyt'ing!" He wailed, grabbing his dog beneath one arm before bailing from his boat and high-tailing it for shore as he sobbed, unsure of what he had just experienced. If anything, it was a bad omen, and his cursed dinghy was no longer fit to catch fish. The superstitious fisherman didn't have far to swim, as when the Ethaefal turned he saw the sharp rock faces that made up the cliffs of a small town. "Where are you going?" The Ethaefal called out after the fisherman, then immediately hands rushed to his mouth in a gasp. That was not the voice that had come out of him moments before. It was far deeper. The light that had surrounded him nearly knocked him unconscious. What had happened? Head swirling with confusion, the Ethaefal leaned over the edge of the dinghy and peered into a moonlit reflection. An unfamiliar face greeted him. Sharp-featured, pale, with sweeping dark hair and a startling pair of curled horns that appeared jade-green in the murky water. "Leth." he said the name again, this time aloud as he ripped his golden gaze from the water to stare longingly at the moon. Was this a gift? This unearthly beauty, something he had not possessed in his previous life, was this some consolation for having fallen back to the material world? He could no longer speak the language of the divine realm, and dream-state memories swirled in his clouded mind. Hands grasped for the oars and, after a few failed attempts, he managed to maneuver the boat towards the rocky shore of Denval. With each stroke, his new muscular body burned with fatigue.

[Sitkanis]

The days seemed empty, meaningless in fact, now that Adalia was gone. Her shy but beautiful smile, her cute childish laugh, but most of all those eyes that were more beautiful than the purest ocean tide were never to be seen again. They had slipped away in the night to head back to Mura. He had tried to stop her. She was a woman, she wasn't supposed to leave without him. The simple fact was, she left just as gracefully as she came and there was no way to stop her. It seemed as though the longer he was back in Mizahar the more the sea seemed to scorn him. He had almost died in it's depths and Adalia, dear sweet Adalia had left him upon it's waves. Still, the sea called to him. He did not know why. Maybe it was a bit of hope that some how it would give him answers. He felt conflicted between his longing for lost Konti lover who escaped on the sea and his love for Leth who hung so beautifully above it. As Sitkanis walked through Denval he could feel the city winding down around him. Syna was growing tired and was moving closer to her lover. He felt an urge to escape to the shore. He hated to change forms in the middle of the city. By the water he would be alone to change without the prying eyes of the Denvali. It was not that he did not trust them, changing simply made him feel uncomfortable and exposed. At the shore Sitkanis could see Syna bowing her way out to Leth. He felt uncomfortable as he watched. He did not want to change. His deep brown eyes glanced down at his hand as the first of the lights began to glitter over his fingers. They were like little stars infecting his skin and spreading over his skin. They glowed gold as the picked up pace and rushed over Sitkanis' tanned skin. The thing he hated most about his transformation was watching the glittering lights take over his windmark. It was his source of pride. He simply sat on the beach and watched the lights take over his body. It pained him to watch it. Adalia always loved to see the show of his transforming skin. She had always claimed that she found both of his forms equally beautiful. He did not want to think of her so he simply sat, staring out at the sea as the lights began to climb up his neck and across his cheek. He peered out at the horizon as his brown eyes turned a beautiful lilac color. He could have sworn he saw a light out there. Almost like his own but more sudden and short. He found his own transformation annoying. It was so slow and strange looking. Sitkanis cocked his head as the light faded into the night. "I wonder what it was." It had been a little strange that so many Ethaefal had been falling into the sea off the shore of Denval. Did Leth and Syna favor this city? Maybe that is why he had fallen there too. The thoughts were so silly though. Why would there be another Ethaefal off the coast? The race was so rare. There was no way a third Ethaefal would fall into the city, was there? When the last of the lights had engulfed Sitkanis' skin the man looked like a glittering mass for a moment before the lights slowly receeded, much like they came. He was glad to see the lights disapate although he hated the form that they left behind. Where a tall Drykas once sat, a shorter more beautiful man with marble like horns took his place. Due to summer closing in on the city his hair was mostly black but the ends were still clinging to the springs greyish-lavender color. His horns were similar, being green but tinged with a beautiful white at the ends. He was shorter than most Ethaefal, standing as short as they come at 5'6. He was curious, he wanted to know what made the light. Standing up on the shore, Sitkanis tried to push his now short stature to it's limits as he tried to see out to the incoming boat. He had shed his shirt on the beach but was searching through his bag for his small pair of pants. He was so used to changing his clothing at the drop of a hat that he mearly removed his larger and longer pants for his shorter and thinner ones on the beach. He hated his form, he was not nearly as muscular as his Drykas body. As the last of his light shimmered away on his skin he called out to the boat. "Who is out there? What as that light?"

[Lysander]

Row, row, row. Concentrating on the task at hand seemed to take his mind off of the burning sensation in his arms. Falling had been a particularly unpleasant experience - to put it lightly. Hands loosening on the oars, he slumped forward to let the waves pull him slowly but surely towards the shore. "Who am I?" The alien voice came from him again; deep and masculine, it spoke in a clumsy, ugly language. He knew what he was, that was obvious. There was a name for his kind, those that had fallen from the sky. Ethaefal. Something crossed the Ethaefal's mind and an uneasy look stained his perfect face. A name. People had names in which to identify themselves. What is my name? That was a good question to start with. There was a name in particular that sounded nice in his head. He didn't know if it had ever been his, but the name Leth had given to him in his short divine existence simply would not manifest itself aloud, not with the mortal bounds of his flesh and blood body. The other name would have to do. "I like Lysander." He appeared to be getting the hang of the voice. An audible hum, then he nodded proudly. "I am Lysander. I am Ethaefal. I am Leth's son." The Ethaefal called Lysander rested his elbows on bare knees, staring intently over the contents of the boat that had been ... bestowed unto him by that poor, terrified fisherman. There was a stinking heap of fishing net, filled with all manner of ocean garbage - kelp, sponge, and here and there a small dead fish. At his feet, a metallic shine under the moon caught his eye. He reached down to grab a dull fishing knife and held it between his hands. It wasn't nearly as interesting as it insisted when it demanded his gaze. Lysander wrinkled his nose and dropped it again, letting it fall onto the putrid net. Something inky black caught his eye and a hand shot beneath the rickety bench, hauling out the object of interest. Heavy linen felt soft between Lysander's fingers as he unfurled a sizable cloak. Dyed black, with a bronze clasp. The naked Ethaefal let out a fleeting laugh as he pulled it over his wide shoulders and fastened the clasp. Fingers groped behind his head for the hood and he slipped it on. Something cool and smooth caught his pinky finger on one side of his head. As he pushed on the foreign object his head moved with it and Lysander stopped for a moment to run his hands over smooth, curling horns that grew close to his head and were half-covered by wispy black hair. A thrilled grin pulled back Lysander's lips and the hood covered his head well - if not for two awkward lumps. "Who is out there? What was that light?" The voice startled Lysander and pulled him from his narcissistic trance. Had someone else seen him? Turning to stare at the shore, he would notice a figure on the rocky beach ahead of him. Not far ahead, either, as the wooden boat unceremoniously went aground seconds after he noticed the man on shore. Lysander peered down angrily at the craft, useless against a rocky ocean floor it seemed. "Fine." Lysander's voice was rough, frustrated that the boat seemed to be intent on staying a stone's throw from shore as he gracefully stepped out and back into the water. It was knee-deep and cold, just as shockingly cold as it had been when he landed. It was then that Lysander decided he was not a fan of being in the water - but what was more unnerving to him was how far he was from the ground. Lysander's height had shot up eight inches from his earthbound body, his legs long and lean, trunk muscular and defined and the shoulders that were wrapped in the warm cloak - his only article of clothing - were far wider than they had been before. Slowly, he approached the figure that had shouted at him chimes before confidently, seemingly un-phased by his own nudity. Feet met beach sand and Lysander squinted through the darkness searchingly. The newly acquired cloak lapped around his shins, half-soaked by his trek through the shallow, rocky water. By the time he had reached the shore, mere paces separated them. Shadows had melted away and Leth's light lit up the flawless, ethereal features of the curious stranger. He was shorter, something Lysander was not accustomed to, and his eyes looked profoundly sad. That's when he noticed the telltale marble horns. The same color and beauty of which that sat ungracefully beneath his linen hood. The first words he uttered to another would be less than graceful, and even a bit probing. "Did you fall too?"

[Sitkanis]

Leth hung quietly in the sky as his two sons moved closer to meeting one another. Sitkanis' lilac eyes were focused out on the water as the boat got closer. The last time he had seen a boat in these waters it had been Adalia's. He could not chase after her, not onto a boat. What if he fell off the boat? He couldn't swim. His fear was just another reason why Adalia was gone. He was not strong enough. Even in his past life he had not been strong enough. A glassbeak killed him as a Drykas and now little by little, a Konti was killing him as an Ethaefal. At least it felt that way. Sitkanis watched the boat intently, much like an animal would as it was stalking it's prey. He listened to the sounds around him, mostly to the waves. He wondered if Laviku was watching, maybe judging him a bit. He often wondered if the watery God watched him from the sea and laughed at his fear. Silly little Sitkanis. So high and mighty until he reaches water. The God was not actually speaking to Sitkanis he just was imagining what the God might say. His hands balled into fists although he could feel there was not as much strength behind the action as he was used to. When the boat reached the shore Sitkanis was surprised to see a creature that looked similar to him step out of it's hull. He was much taller of course. That fact alone made him uncomfortable. It seemed every Ethaefal he met was taller than him. Leth must have been having a laugh about that one. The creature was male. That much as evident even if he seemed to be a little beautiful for a male. A lot of Ethaefal were though. He liked to think that his nightly form was more manly but that might have just been a misguided hope. The boy spoke up and Sitkanis' lilac eyes followed his lips movement. He had not met an Ethaefal like him since the day he fell. He wanted to understand what others like him were like. "I fell but not recently." He stood there looking at the boy almost as if he was trying to see through him. "I fell in the fall. It is spring right now, or more so, almost summer." He was not sure if the boy knew what was going on around him. He knew that when he fell he had no idea what was going on. "Do you know where you are." He spoke flatly as he looked at the boy. "Or who you are?" The questions were sort of pointless. Why would the boy know where he was? He just fell out of the sky. "I am like you, an Ethaefal." He was a bit jealous of the boy. He wanted to badly to be back with Leth. Things were safe up in the Ukalas. There was no Adalia to haunt his mind or a past life to invade his dreams. There was no pain or longing, just peace. The boy in front of him had been ripped from it all, just like he had. He could not help but want to help him. "You are far from home. I can promise you that much."

[Lysander]

At least this one didn't jump into the ocean and swim away from him in fear. Lysander's lithe fingers slid around the clasp of his cloak and let it slide off of his shoulder. This coastal town's air was cold in the late spring air, biting at his wet extremities. He caught the fabric with his free hand and wiped cool water droplets off of his pale marble skin, down his arms, stomach and hesitating for a moment - to his back. Eyes grew wide at such smooth skin, remembering only layers of scar tissue. Ugly, terrible scars, now lifted by Leth. Leth ... A pained look struck Lysander as his golden eyes leered at his new acquaintance. He knew who he was. Well, he knew who he was now. Everything else was hazy. Lysander wasn't sure how he knew he was an Ethaefal, merely that he knew that there was a word for perfectly flawed beings that slipped through the mending fissures in the Ukalas. Lysander had fleeting memories of a life that ended far too early. A life that wasn't entirely his. A painful life. "Lysander." A simple response, punctuated by a small smile. "My name is Lysander." Then he paused as the smile grew into a proud grin and his voice seemed to become more lofty - almost too cheerful to have just fallen from grace. "Is that a good name? I just made it up in the boat." Don't act like such a child. A voice in Lysander's head pulled him back, forcing his grin to flatten and his eyes drop to his hands that now held the black linen cloak. Those hands were much larger than hands he felt used to owning, forearms thickening into biceps that actually had muscle definition when he flexed. Everything about him was larger. Pink rose on Lysander's cheeks as his eyes dipped lower, beyond his taught stomach and narrow-set hips. Everything. Pursing his lips, Lysander forced his eyes away from his own statuesque figure as he turned his attention back to the shorter man that stood before him. Does my nudity bother him? No. How could it, I'm gorgeous. If Syna had dominion over their heads, Lysander would have hidden his shameful young body, whipped and beaten before his soul discarded it so long ago. "Far from home," Lysander quirked a brow, lifting his unblinking stare to the cliffs and precariously placed buildings above momentarily before the warm smile would return. "It seems so. So, where am I? And who are you?" Lysander wanted to reach out and touch those beautiful horns, his graceful features, as if he were looking into a mirror he could simply reach through without any trouble. A look of desire shone in Lysander's golden eyes. Not carnal, no. This form was new, exciting, and this man shared it. He wanted to be closer, he wanted to touch him, to know he was real. Why was he here, of all places? The date of his fall would have been ... a while ago, in a world restricted by time. Was he some sort of guardian, a gate keeper - no, that seemed overly complex for an occurrence that should not even have happened. The cold air bit at his skin again and a shiver ran up his spine. It had been forever since he had cold, fatigue, pain. The wet cloak fell from his hands and landed innocently at his feet, the wet cloth unable to provide much warmth in the evening costal air.

[Sitkanis]

"Lysander..." Sitkanis sounded the name out in his mind. It did not sound like a constellation. When Lysander spoke up again Sitkanis understood. It was because it wasn't a constellation. The boy had made it up. "Strange..." He voice was still deep in his form but not as much so as his deep baritone when he was in Syna's light. "It is as good of a name as any I suppose." He could not push himself to smile at the boy. It did not feel right. He was happy to have found another like himself but he was still worried. Last time he had met an Ethaefal of his kind he had almost killed her. Instead, she killed herself because he had threatened her. He did not want to hurt someone again. Not like that. Not with Leth watching. "I'm Sitkanis... or Sitka. Some people have taken to calling me Sitka." He didn't particularly like the nickname but it seemed that people enjoyed having a nickname to call others. It made them feel closer. He had never had a nickname for Adalia. Maybe that was the problem. Sitkanis could truly care less about the boy's nudity. He was far past the insecurity of seeing other people naked, regardless of gender. He looked into the boy's eyes, trying to see their color. He wanted to compare their hue to his own. "This is Denval. It is part of the Kalea region. All mountains and the like." He looked out to the sea behind them and then back to Lysander. "And sea I suppose. You clear see that though." The boy seemed to be cold. At least it seemed that way. "We should get you into town. It's warmer there." He dug through his bag and threw a shirt and pants at the man. "You can borrow these but I need them back when Syna comes up. I am taller during the day." He did not know how he felt about sharing his clothes but the boy clearly needed clothing to get into the city. As the pair walked Sitkanis tried to think of things to say to the newly fallen boy at his side. "Do you remember anything? From your past life I mean." He wished he could remember more about his past life. He still could not remember much. "I remember very little and I've been fallen for a while." His hand absentmindedly came up to his arm and felt where his windmark was absent. "I remember enough to know I'm missing things though." He pondered over where he would take Lysander once they got into town. The Strangers Welcome seemed like a good enough place. Neither one of them would eat or drink though. In the city Sitkanis led Lysander through the streets, nodding silently at the people who passed by. Some knew him, others only knew one of his forms. Either way, he was sure the slight of him with another Ethaefal at his side was a little strange. He knew where he wanted to go. He sought out the place where he had first found answers about himself. "Denval is a good place to fall. People are very accepting here. At least I have found them to be." When the two stopped they were standing in front of the labyrinth. "The Denvali say the labyrinth is a good place for finding answers... or meditating." He was not sure if Lysander would want to do either but it was a good place to talk if the boy felt like doing so.

[Lysander]

Lysander gave a shallow nod as he repeated the nickname aloud. "Sitka." Sitkanis' full name slowly faded out of Lysander's short-term memory as the shortened version of it seemed fitting for the Ethaefal. The sound was an enjoyable one, the harsh contrast where the second syllable met the first produced a pleasurable sensation in his mouth. Lysander said it a few more times under his breath. Sitka. Sitka. Sitka. If the other could hear him, he surely sounded completely mad. Articles of clothing were tossed at his feet and Lysander bent down, grasping the trousers as he put one leg in, then the other and fastened them at the hips. They fit well, if not a bit long. The shirt was pulled quickly over his head and almost instantly he felt warmer. Remnants of Sitka's body warmth hugged his cool skin and the scent of the man lingered on him. This would do, until morning. "Thank you. And it is no problem, I get a bit shorter." Lysander nodded, smoothing out the shirt over his chest. An understatement, the change between his forms was rather drastic. His eyes flickered out towards the dinghy that had innocently floated to shore with the tide now that it bore no extra weight and he approached the craft again to grab what he could. Besides, he had fallen with absolutely nothing. No clothing, no money, no home. Could a boat be a home? Lysander extended his arm into the boat and grabbed the dull fishing knife. He spotted a small satchel pushed safely into the bow of the vessel and, without a moment's hesitation, grabbed that up too. The net full of fish and debris would be left, on the other hand. As Sitkanis lead him into the town he called Denval, he began to speak to him again. More questions, of course. And why not? Lysander would have done the same. The slowly drying cloak was pulled back over his shoulders so that he could pull the hood over his head again in a vain attempt to minimize the odd looks he seemed to be getting. As if the horns were the only thing that set the unnaturally beautiful man apart. It was naive at best. "Do I remember my life?" Lysander winced, a hand wandering across his chest and around to his back. His smooth, muscular back. "No. Not really. I know that it was painful, like my death, but I do not remember details." It was a relief to know that Sitka had little recollection of his life, too. Lysander was surprised at how low his voice could get as he murmured. "I do not think I was a criminal, but I feel as if I was punished as such." Sitkanis stopped at the entrance of what he had mentioned was called the 'labyrinth'. Lysander's hand lifted to touch one of the tall stone slabs, dragging his fingers across the cool surface. He wasn't sure he wanted more answers just yet. Sitkanis seemed more interested in Lysander than Lysander was. It wasn't that he wasn't interested, he was just afraid of what he may find. "Sitka," Lysander's endearing golden eyes searched the man at his side and his voice reflected the helpless feeling burning in his stomach. The next words out of his mouth reduced the Ethaefal to nothing more than a timid child, and tears welled up in his eyes. It was too much at once, and his voice fell to a mere whisper as his right hand grasped at the fabric of the borrowed shirt along his shoulder. "I'm scared."

[Sitkanis]

Maybe Sitkanis shouldn't have offered his nickname. Now Lysander would start calling him Sitka or worse, expect Sitkanis to think of a name for him too. "Lys... Sander... Ander?" He thought of different ways to shorten the boy's name but they all seemed awkward and wrong. Not that they would not work for Lysander but that he did not see himself giving another person a pet name. It seemed too endearing or more so womanly. Adalia had always given him cute little names. "I love you Sitka my little star..." He looked ahead at the moon as he tried to push the fleeting memories of the Konti away. She didn't belong in Denval anymore. Not even the thought of her deserved to be in the city. She had abandoned him. He did not give notice to the fact that he had deserved it. Sitkanis looked the boy over as he pulled on the clothing. "Good, I won't be shorter than him for long." He worried a bit as the boy put on the clothing. What if he did not get it back? He would have to get more clothing then, not that it would be an issue of course. He just did not want to. He had been wearing the same clothing for a while now. Perhaps he had grown attached to it. When Lysander moved closer to the water once again Sitkanis felt himself growing a bit uncomfortable. He did not know whether the boy could swim but as he watched the boy get closer to the water he felt a cold chill run down his spine. In his mind he saw the Ethaefallen girl running into the waves, sacrificing herself to Laviku's depths so she could go home to the Ukalas. He had tried to save her. He had even thrown himself into the waves to get her back to shore. In the end she had died though. Leth had watched as his son was unable to save his Ethaefallen sister. He wanted to stop Lysander from going near the water but he stayed silent. He did not want to have to get closer to the waves himself. "Details are the hardest part. All I see are small flashes." The small flashes were all he had though. He clung to them like they were his lifeline. "I remember a dog which I assume was mine. She was brown, or more painted color, named Nekara." He smiled as he remembered her. The memories of her were his favorite, although few. He closed his eyes as he saw her running through the grass and playing with a boy... his boy, his son. If only he could remember his name. It was strange to him that he could remember the name of his dog but not the name of his son. "My personality is starting to come back a bit. I don't think that is a good thing though." His smile faded as he thought of his bursts as his former self. They had scared Adalia away. The talk of death made Sitkanis uncomfortable. He did not know how he died. He didn't even have an inkling of it. He could have just passed in the night while he was sleeping for all he knew. He looked at Lysander curiously. He knew that at night one could not tell what an Ethaefal was really like. They were far too different from their past-life forms. He did not seem like a criminal though. He talked far too much like a child. He clearly didn't look like one though. Sitkanis was well aware of the fact Ethaefal did not age but even in Lysander's night form he appeared to look younger than Sitkanis. "Like all things it will return I suppose. Memories are tricky for us... for Ethaefal." It was clear to see Sitkanis was not skilled in talking to others on topics as introspective as this. "They come but they are not very clear. At least not in my experience." Sitkanis looked at Lysander quizcally when he heard his name spoken. "Lysander." He did not know what else to say to his name. The boy seemed to be shaken up. Did Sitkanis do something wrong? He was not sure what to do with others when they were upset. Adalia had been a lot like him with emotions. She tended to just have one constant emotion. She was just quiet and affectionate. There were rarely any mood swings to deal with. The only time he had seen her mad was the night she left him. "What are you scared of?" He could have made a good guess as to why Lysander was scared. He did not voice it though. It was better to let the fearful talk for themselves. As the boy talked Sitkanis thought of the boy in his memories. The one who played with Nekara and stood beside him in the grass while hunting. He had been so young. It pained Sitkanis that he could not get to know what the boy would be like when he grew up. More so, it scared him that there might have been other children. He could have forgotten completely about them. He had been a father but he barely even knew what his children were like. He did not know their names, the sound of their voices, or even the joy he felt when he saw them for the first time. He was feeling much like Lysander did. He truly had no idea who he was. A father? A husband? A Drykas? There were not any memories to let him know for sure.

[Lysander]

"What are you scared of?" Lysander's lips hung open for a moment in shock, eyes stinging with tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks. Did Sitka not understand how he could possibly feel even a modicum of fear? Maybe I'm being stupid. His head tilted upwards to stare at the moon over the tall stones in the Labyrinth, hood falling off of his head and a thick mop of black hair flecked with lighter strands from season's change fell limp over his cheeks and he remained quiet for a few chimes. It was obvious Lysander was ashamed to admit such a thing when it was not met with understanding - especially from someone like himself that had been through the same ordeal. Another long chime passed, and Lysander finally spoke in a low tone. As they walked through the Labyrinth, he picked up on the hushed atmosphere of the place. People were quiet, respectful. "Well," he began, slipping hands into the pockets of the pants Sitka had let him wear. "A lot of stuff, I guess. I just fell from the Ukalas in a body that is foreign to me, with memories that are murky at best." Frustration rose and cracked in Lysander's throat. He wanted to be somewhere private. The Labyrinth was quiet, but it was still open. Lysander wasn't comfortable speaking so much in such a place, either. And worst of all, the solemn mood of the place reminded him of death. Despite his protest, a crystalline tear rolled down Lysander's pale cheek and he turned his head away from Sitkanis before wiping it casually away. He shouldn't be crying. It was inappropriate, but Sitkanis' seemingly aloof nature wasn't helping. Was he looking for a hug, and for someone to tell him everything was going to be okay? No. But fears that he assumed Sitkanis would understand being questioned certainly threw him for a loop. Lysander would change the subject, if he knew what to talk about. He inhaled sharply, hoping the tears would magically go away. He wasn't sure why he was so easily flustered, although being physically and mentally exhausted certainly didn't help quell his emotions. "I'm sorry I'm so useless. My memories seemed more vivid when I fell. Then I changed, and now it's as if they were a bad dream I cannot remember." A sigh, then his gaze dropped to stare longingly at his companion. "I may be more apt to answer questions like that when Syna rises again." That is, if you decide to stick around that long. The thought forced Lysander to look away again as he shuffled through the Labyrinth, one foot begrudgingly putting itself in front of the other as his fatigue began take over his mind again. He had nowhere to go in this strange new world, and thoughts of the unknown were wearing on him. In fact, those seemed to be all he had. "Do you ever sleep in this form, Sitka?" The boy questioned, his voice ragged, but curious. It came with a pang of regret, an admission of weakness on his own part. Was there something wrong with him? Questions of Sitka's own fall began to tear at his curiosity. Sitka. There was something about the man that, despite his inner struggle, his fatigue, something that calmed him. He wanted to remain in his presence. When Sitka had smiled, however brief, it forced Lysander to mirror the gesture. And there it remained, long after it faded on Sitkanis' solemn face.

[Sitkanis]

The boy seemed to only be getting worse. Sitkanis frowned in frustration. He had no idea how to speak to Lysander. Emotions were a woman's job. They were mothering and they had time for the more sensitive parts of personalities. Lysander was like him though. He had fallen away from father Leth and unlike Sitkanis, he was now faced with someone who could help him understand what happened. He did not want to show compassion. It was so feminine and soft. Reluctantly he placed a hand on Lysander's arm and looked up into his eyes. "It is scary. Trust me, I know." He could not keep eye contact with Lysander for too long. He was starting to feel uncomfortable. "You are taking this much better than I did though. My fall was the worst experience I can remember." He wanted to stay rigid and cold. No emotion was good emotion. He could feel it creeping to the surface. The tears, the pain, the memories. Everything he tried so hard to forget. He stared at the ground searching for the right words to say. He had kept the entire experience of his falling to himself since it happened. He had played it and replayed it over and over in his mind but he never talked about it. He didn't even talk to Adalia about it. "I fell on the same night as another Ethaefal from Leth's domain. I was scared, I don't know what came over me. I-I... I tried to kill her on the shore." Sitkanis' lilac eyes were wide and for the first time since Adalia's departure full of emotion. "She ran from me into the sea and... I don't know. I tried to save her. I..." Here it was. Here is where weakness set in. He could not tell Lysander why he could not help the girl. It was so childish. "I'm scared to death of water. She drowned herself and I couldn't save her. Leth saw the whole thing." This was why Sitkanis kept his emotions locked away. He was safe when he could not feel them. "I did not know I was even an Ethaefal until... Leth knows when. I had no idea who I was, where I was, what I was, or even where I came from." He could not look at the boy. He had shamed himself by admiting his weakness to him. He could now use it against him if he wanted. Once he started talking about his fall the story had just poured out of him like water. He looked sheepishly at Lysander, a hint of tears in his eyes. "So yes, I understand that it is scary." He would not talk about it any further. Lysander had gotten empathy but he would not get a couple's session of trading feelings. That much he refused to do. Sitkanis listened to the world around him as the the pair of Ethaefal walked into the labrynith. It was quiet enough. At least that meant no one saw his pathetic show of sorrow. He would not have been able to face the city if someone had. He felt a small bubble of anger rise up in his chest when Lysander called himself useless. "You are not useless. You fell from the Ukalas, you found yourself in a new body, you are allowed to be disoriented." Sitkanis was now sure if he was a spiritual man but at times he spoke like one. Of course, one would expect nothing less from a son of Leth. "Feel blessed that you have any memory at all. When I fell all I could remember was grass and running horses. I know what it means now but at the time I did not have a clue." The grass and horses were his memory's feeble attempt at remembering Endrykas, his home. It did not seem like home but in his memories he son was there. He did not know what to think of him. He did not feel any emotion for the boy. He only knew he was his son because in some flashback of the child he could hear himself calling him son. The talk of sleep bothered Sitkanis. He could not remember the last time he slept well. No, he did. It was at Adalia's side with Tempest, her Ivaski resting peacfully at their feet. "I used to. Lately I have not slept too well." He was not sure he should bring up his lost Konti lover to the boy. Would he even care? "I more so forced myself to sleep at night. I wanted to sleep when my lover did. I did not like to sleep when Leth was out but I wanted to be with her, to be close to her." He felt a small smile play on his lips as he thought of the little Konti sleeping peacfully in his arms. It quickly faded as his mind slipped back into the situation at hand. Sitkanis looked at Lysander. He was not sure why he was telling him such personal things. Maybe it was because he finally had met an Ethaefal like him. At least one that he did not drive to kill themselves. There was someone else who knew what happened to him and understood it. "If you want to sleep you can. I don't mean to sound intrusive but I would want to stay with you until you woke up. Seeing your body change back for the first time can be just as scary as seeing it change in the first place." He would not let his Ethaefal deal with his new life alone. He refused to have another life be taken when he could have saved it. "I will help you through this."