Three Ethaefal (Laszlo)

[Eridanus]

Day 33, Winter of 511 AV
Nightfall
The Patchwork Port

It was a cool winter night, and the darkness of the sky was alleviated only by the dim lights of Leth's Orb above, accompanied by the little flickering sparks of the mundane torches that lined up along the port. Eridanus had no idea why he was here, drawn from his resting place with a sort of strange vigor to watch the moon against the backdrop of crashing waves.

It was as if there was some call from the moon, an instinctive hunger that beckoned him forth. It was insufficient for him to appreciate the pale light just from his abode, no he needed to see it all against the never-stopping bustle of Laviku's domain, to see it all against Morwen's chill, to see it all without the artificial clamor of human-made buildings.

The ethaefal hummed a short piece, a random improvisation of Vani melody against a melancholy series of chords, an expression of his desire to see his god once more, just so he could as a simple why? as to his fate and predicament. Does a father not notice when his child has been torn away from him?

[Laszlo]

Lost again, Laszlo wandered aimlessly along the darkened, vacant streets of Alvadas. He had left the tavern for some cool air, then turned around to find that it had somehow scuttled away and tucked itself in another corner of Ionu's playground. Hot, white breath had passed through his clenched teeth, hanging in the air for a moment in front of him—an impotent huff of frustration that dissipated in the cold Winter air a moment later. It wasn't the first time this had happened. Obviously the city had something planned for him, although Laszlo was not glad to play to the whims of a city that imitated life and consciousness. Yet, what could he do to fight it? He was Have it your way, Alvadas. At least it wasn't busy, tonight. Seven could handle the tavern on his own. He probably thought that Laszlo was out killing another Ethaefal. Heh. It was at that moment, or close to it, that Laszlo realized he could hear the sound of waves crashing into the rocks. He slowed to a stop, muting the sound of his footsteps, then tilted his head to listen. The Suvan Sea again? It was always nearby, Alvadas being a port city, but the shifting streets didn't always deposit a man so close to the water. The last time he'd heard the water this clearly, he'd been inside the House of Mirrors, standing before Siofra's lifeless body. With a grimace, Laszlo pressed on. He kept the tavern in mind, hoping Alvadas would deliver him to where he wanted to be. Every so often, he passed a lit alleyway, painted in moonlight, but ignored it and chose another path. Laszlo would choose where he wanted to go; the city would not decide for him. Yet, it kept appearing, over and over, and the sound of the water never diminished even as he spent the better part of an hour walking. "You're a bastard," Laszlo finally cursed, glancing up at the sky as if Ionu was there. He wasn't; Leth was, but likely Leth was the only one listening. Perhaps he could pass on the message. It was his gesture of surrender, finally taking the alleyway when Alvadas presented it to him again. He existed the city and entered an untamed piece of coastline. Huge rocks and boulders jutted up from a sea of cold sand, while just several yards away, the powerful Suvan Sea thrashed against the bellies of nearby cliffs. A salty spray occasionally could be felt on Laszlo's face as gazed curiously down at the water. The waves each exploded with a deafening sound that reminded him of thunder. Between the roars of the sea, Laszlo became aware of a masculine humming. It was a foreign, somber melody that somehow spoke to him. It was familiar, and for some reason he thought of the spirit of Chaeli in Kalinor. Faced with either jumping into the sea, where he'd tossed Siofra's bloodsoaked corpse, or heading back into the city and likely go nowhere, he chose instead to wander the coastline, following the sound of the song. An Ethaefal revealed himself behind a mass of rocks, seemingly unaware of Laszlo's presence. A Lethborn. The false Symenestra's keen vision fixated on his glittering horns. "Son of Leth," he greeted coolly, stepping into the moonlight. "Are you lost as well?" Laszlo approached the Ethaefal, falling beside him. "It seems Alvadas has pushed me into meeting every other Ethaefal by dumb chance. I've seen so many here, now. You're the fourth, at least." Laszlo offered a clawed hand, ashen, slender fingers just a little too long to look human. "I'm Laszlo. A son of Syna."

[Eridanus]

A slender man, neat and prim with an air that showed his higher than normal social status or station approached. His features strongly reminded Eridanus of the symenestra doctor Dhalvasha who he met back in Sunberth as well as the symenestra thief Shai. He introduced himself as a son of Syna, and the leth-born raised his brow.

"Oh? Greetings, Laszlo. I am Eridanus, and to whom my allegiance lie should be quite evident; you having pointed it out earlier."

It was rare to find one of his own race, whether they be aligned with Leth or Syna, and he was surprised to hear that he was the fourth ethaefal this Syna's child had met.

"Is that so? I am afraid that you are the first Child of Syna that I have met in this city. The only other leth-born I know is the Headmaster of the Acumen Asylum, though we are not exactly on great terms," He ended bitterly, knowing that what could have became a never as soon as he left the Headmaster's care many years ago. Though he had returned, the trust was broken, the relationship eternally wronged, and the best he could was to avoid the older leth-born whom he had once seen as a mentor.

He looked away from his fellow Fallen, glancing at the sky and sighing in an eased despair. The crashing waves created a consistent rhythm against the shore, and he imagined the stars blinking at a pace, keeping in harmony with the sound.

"What brings you here, Laszlo Son of Syna?"

"Me, a strong compulsion within me beckoned me to watch the moon against this natural setting. Perhaps Leth has a message for me. Perhaps not," He added, waving his hand to gesture at the sea and the night sky gently.

[Laszlo]

Laszlo turned to watch the sky, as Eridanus did, studying the moon with a more academic regard. It was difficult to stare straight into it, as the neon moonlight seared his sensitive Symenestra vision. That of course reminded him of the fiery Syna. What odd irony that a child of the Sun Goddess would be put into a body like this one; even at night, Laszlo's world was as bright as day. He glanced away before his eyes began to hurt, focusing on the rocks below them instead. The cliff was steep, and the waves thrashed against it with astonishing rage and power. Not far from them was a small jetty, which boldly stabbed out into the water. The sea threw itself against the rocks there too, but with considerably less power from where they were standing. Watching the power of continuing waves, Laszlo wondered how Alvadas simply didn't crumble and fall into the water. Then again, this was Ionu's city. Perhaps there was no Alvadas at all, and everyone here was just wandering around the mountains. "I'm lost," he admitted freely, in response to the Lethborn's inquiry. Pocketing his hands beneath his cloak, he gave a shrug and a half-formed smirk of chagrin. "That happens often here, where the streets are always changing. Presently, Alvadas is preventing me from going home. I keep ending up here." Laszlo turned his head, placing his glittering amethyst eyes on Eridanus' horns. They shined beautifully in the moonlight, and filled Laszlo with a sort of longing he couldn't quite name. "Don't feel too badly about the Headmaster. I don't appear to get along well with other Ethaefal either. The most recent one… well, I'll spare you a story." Gravel crunched beneath Laszlo's feet as he turned and walked the edge of the cliff, passing behind Eridanus and moving into the shadow of a large, jutting boulder. Being out of the neon moonlight was relief on his eyes, though it made his pupils shine like a cat's. With his vision less polluted by moonlight, he turned to focus on the jetty again. There was an odd flash of color that didn't seem to belong there. Oh, wait… Gods… "Hold on." Laszlo straightened, furrowing his brow. "Eridanus, do you see that? I'm not sure how well your eyes work in this light, but look there, on the jetty." A long arm escaped the walls of his cloak to aim a blackened nail at the strange, pink shape amid the distant rocks. "Is that… a person? Or…" If it was a person, he wasn't moving. "…A body?"

[Eridanus]

Eridanus listened to the child of Syna as he spoke, his expressionless face betraying no sense of emotions. Then again, the appearance of his exterior forms differed vastly in his mortal seeming and his celestial form, and it was interesting that Leth chose that form, that personality, that part of him when he was at that part of life.

"If you're not busy a story would be most welcome," the leth-born said in response to the other ethaefal. They were not like the other mortal races, who were always rushing from place to place, trying to get what they needed to get done before their short lives expired. The ethaefals were not immortal, but they had the gift - or curse - of longevity. They may have lost the communion with their gods, but at least they had the time to seek it back if they so wished.

Suddenly, the symenestra pointed somewhere at the rocks, muttering something about a body, and Eridanus looked in response, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out the shape. At night he was in his full divine glory, just as Laszlo would be in the day, and with this form he was free from any of the frailties of the other mortal races.

That meant that his vision was obscured only by darkness, but with Leth's light he began to slowly make out the shape.

It did not look like a person, for his knowledge of the anatomy of the sentient races in Mizahar did not look as grotesque or out-of-shape as this one. Furrowing his brows, he began striding towards the rocks, intent on taking a closer look at this oddity.

With a short gesture that meant "Come check it out with me" to Laszlo, he wordlessly closed the proximity between him and that odd pink lump on the rocks, and when he finally got a better look at it the first thing that struck him was the smell.

The familiar smell of decay.

The pungent decay of death.

The sweet whispers of death that plagued the living.

It was rare for bodies to wash up on Alvadas' shores, for the current of the seas would push any bodies drowned in the Suvan Sea somewhere else, if they were not already eaten by the many unknown sea monsters. That only meant that this was one of those rare cases, or that the body was dumped somewhere in extreme close proximity to Alvadas for it to return in such a manner.

"A corpse," He whispered in a matter-of-fact way, in the event that the symenestra had not deduced it due to his poor eyesight.