Realization caused his face to contort into something ugly and undignified, a stark reminder that this was not the creature that had stood before her only moments ago. Yet it was the same man, and Elhaym steeled herself to remember that as she nodded to affirm that they had indeed met before. His stance was wary and he backed away, but Elhaym sought no more closeness than what she had already forced. If she was a Shinya, something more than just an Acolyte who at times was left with a longer leash than others, she might have cut him down right then and there. Yet again, a Shinya did not act so rashly… they would seek the truth before acting. It was not some deep desire to be a true Shinya that held Elhaym back, rather the want for him to explain himself. Laszlo was a hypnotist and a Symenestra by night, but she had begun to believe he was not really a bad person.
She didn't want to be wrong.
Oh, if only we could all go back and change our past, Laszlo. The words floated in her mind, and she made a sharp gesture when he began to ramble as if to cut to the point. Either he explained himself quickly, or she would have to report who and what he was to the Shinya and have him dealt with. Lhavit had no prison; he would either be exiled or executed. He admitted freely to maiming the old man, and for that much her body tensed. Narrowed eyes bore into him when he began to stumble over his words and profess that he was no monster, but he was. Symenestra, as far as she knew, were not above such savagery as to take a woman by force.
He talked. Elhaym folded her arms over her chest as she listened, the soft flapping of her silk coat mixing with his words. It was an intricate story, one filled with emotion and detail. If it was rehearsed, it was a damned fine performance. Elhaym felt herself beginning to empathize with him; she had murdered a group of men in Syliras well, and out of self defense. The Syliran Knights had even eventually figured it out, but she had not been sought after like Laszlo had. A single Knight had approached her and gave her a fair warning; her actions had been justified, but she should have gone to the Knights in the first place. A second occurrence would see her in the laborers yard for the rest of her days. Laszlo had not even been given that much leeway.
"You left Syliras, and I helped you do it. Those Knights would have found you that night if I hadn't…"
Elhaym turned, at last tearing her eye off of Laszlo's face. Something tugged at her mind, a certain rationale that had once existed in her mind so many years ago. The Knights and their smug sureness and invasive methods had always rubbed her the wrong way. Looking back, she thought that her annoyance at them might have fueled her little rebellion. Looking forward, she suddenly knew that in terms of Laszlo and his friend Duvalyon, she had become something far more invasive, smug, and sure than the Knights had ever been. She felt almost... abashed? She wanted to think that it was different, that she owed these people a debt and meant to repay it. Yet who was to say those Knights hadn't felt the same way? Capturing a rapist, well, Elhaym would tear a rapist's door off its hinges if one were known in Lhavit. Maybe she was no different than those Knights now.
So many years, and she had changed so much. They were thoughts not meant for this night; her silence hung in the air, and Laszlo's eagerness to hear her response was palpable.
"Okay. I'll accept that, Laszlo."
A body suppressed like a coil under pressure suddenly relaxed, and Elhaym unfolded her arms to make a waving gesture. "Maybe you didn't rape the girl, and the Knights were acting on impulse. Maybe I was right to hide you… or maybe, you're using your gifts to make me feel that way. Whatever it is, you have to swear to me Laszlo. Tell me that you're not playing games, and that is no hypnotist's trick. You've proven that I'll have no way of knowing either way, so I'm just going to ask you… for the truth."
An exasperated sigh rumbled from her lips as she thought back to that day, trying to recover any details that might disprove what he had said.
Heavy footfalls were drawing near, and a grin crept across Elhaym's face. With some effort she heaved the heavy pot she had been scrubbing up and launched it across the floor. The impact and further noise it made when rolling about was beyond obnoxious, and the symphony of clay mugs and wooden plates being swept off the serving tables near her added the necessary high notes. With the sound of confusion in the air, Elhaym lurched to the heavy and rusted door that led into the alleys beyond and threw it open.
When the two Knights burst into the room, Elhaym was sitting on her rump by the door and apparently in a daze. A gentle man in his mid forties knelt to her side, but the armor and blade at his hip diminished his courtesy. Quite luckily for her, the adrenaline her trick brought gave her voice the necessary stutter to emulate surprise and fear mixed into one. In only a moment they were fully convinced that the Symenestra had knocked her aside and fled into the corridors of the castle.
Of course the next few hours were heinous. The tavern's fat little prick of an owner had a hissy fit like none she had seen before, and cleaning up all of the various kitchen supplies she had (purposely) knocked over had taken far longer than it had to displace them. Still, the fact that she had pulled one over on the Knights was a small victory. They could stand to be a little less obnoxious, so she thought. The night had grown long, and Elhaym soon found herself alone as the tavern shut its doors for the night.
Well, not truly alone. The hinges of the trap door creaked as she threw it open, and rather than descending the small ladder she simply hopped down and drug the door closed behind her as she fell. Landing squarely on her legs and bending her knees to absorb the impact, she noted that her visitor had not bothered to light any of the torches or candles around the room. She thought that was because Symenestra liked to live in caves or holes or something, but she wasn't too sure. A slight feeling of unease nestled its way into her stomach… she had never really considered what this man may have done. Well, no matter. There was no doubt she could handle that pale wisp of a man in a fight.
"Hey, wake up."
Her eyes had not adjusted, but she found her way to a side table where a flint and steel lay just as they always did. In a practiced motion, she drug one across the other and produced a spark that immediately ignited on the oil wrapped cloth of a torch. She had done it a hundred times.
"Well, Knights will be looking for you for a day or so. They'll keep it all locked down nice and tight for a while, but when they don't find you they'll ease up. Else the people will start getting miffed, you know? Anyhow... what'd you do to rile them up so much? Just so you know, I'm no easy prey, so don't go thinking you can pull anything."
Her manner of speaking was so blunt that it didn't even sound like the words of a braggart, just the simple truth. She had unhitched the torch from its mount as she spoke, and now carried it to the center of the room to locate the Symenestra. The cellar was probably larger than Laszlo had expected, and filled with boxes of supplies as well as various foodstuffs. Elhaym's little living space was apparent; there was a hammock strung up between two stacks of barrels, and a chest that seemed to be stuffed to the brim with every worldly possession she had.
She didn't want to be wrong.
Oh, if only we could all go back and change our past, Laszlo. The words floated in her mind, and she made a sharp gesture when he began to ramble as if to cut to the point. Either he explained himself quickly, or she would have to report who and what he was to the Shinya and have him dealt with. Lhavit had no prison; he would either be exiled or executed. He admitted freely to maiming the old man, and for that much her body tensed. Narrowed eyes bore into him when he began to stumble over his words and profess that he was no monster, but he was. Symenestra, as far as she knew, were not above such savagery as to take a woman by force.
He talked. Elhaym folded her arms over her chest as she listened, the soft flapping of her silk coat mixing with his words. It was an intricate story, one filled with emotion and detail. If it was rehearsed, it was a damned fine performance. Elhaym felt herself beginning to empathize with him; she had murdered a group of men in Syliras well, and out of self defense. The Syliran Knights had even eventually figured it out, but she had not been sought after like Laszlo had. A single Knight had approached her and gave her a fair warning; her actions had been justified, but she should have gone to the Knights in the first place. A second occurrence would see her in the laborers yard for the rest of her days. Laszlo had not even been given that much leeway.
"You left Syliras, and I helped you do it. Those Knights would have found you that night if I hadn't…"
Elhaym turned, at last tearing her eye off of Laszlo's face. Something tugged at her mind, a certain rationale that had once existed in her mind so many years ago. The Knights and their smug sureness and invasive methods had always rubbed her the wrong way. Looking back, she thought that her annoyance at them might have fueled her little rebellion. Looking forward, she suddenly knew that in terms of Laszlo and his friend Duvalyon, she had become something far more invasive, smug, and sure than the Knights had ever been. She felt almost... abashed? She wanted to think that it was different, that she owed these people a debt and meant to repay it. Yet who was to say those Knights hadn't felt the same way? Capturing a rapist, well, Elhaym would tear a rapist's door off its hinges if one were known in Lhavit. Maybe she was no different than those Knights now.
So many years, and she had changed so much. They were thoughts not meant for this night; her silence hung in the air, and Laszlo's eagerness to hear her response was palpable.
"Okay. I'll accept that, Laszlo."
A body suppressed like a coil under pressure suddenly relaxed, and Elhaym unfolded her arms to make a waving gesture. "Maybe you didn't rape the girl, and the Knights were acting on impulse. Maybe I was right to hide you… or maybe, you're using your gifts to make me feel that way. Whatever it is, you have to swear to me Laszlo. Tell me that you're not playing games, and that is no hypnotist's trick. You've proven that I'll have no way of knowing either way, so I'm just going to ask you… for the truth."
An exasperated sigh rumbled from her lips as she thought back to that day, trying to recover any details that might disprove what he had said.
----
Syliras - Winter, 509 AV
Heavy footfalls were drawing near, and a grin crept across Elhaym's face. With some effort she heaved the heavy pot she had been scrubbing up and launched it across the floor. The impact and further noise it made when rolling about was beyond obnoxious, and the symphony of clay mugs and wooden plates being swept off the serving tables near her added the necessary high notes. With the sound of confusion in the air, Elhaym lurched to the heavy and rusted door that led into the alleys beyond and threw it open.
When the two Knights burst into the room, Elhaym was sitting on her rump by the door and apparently in a daze. A gentle man in his mid forties knelt to her side, but the armor and blade at his hip diminished his courtesy. Quite luckily for her, the adrenaline her trick brought gave her voice the necessary stutter to emulate surprise and fear mixed into one. In only a moment they were fully convinced that the Symenestra had knocked her aside and fled into the corridors of the castle.
Of course the next few hours were heinous. The tavern's fat little prick of an owner had a hissy fit like none she had seen before, and cleaning up all of the various kitchen supplies she had (purposely) knocked over had taken far longer than it had to displace them. Still, the fact that she had pulled one over on the Knights was a small victory. They could stand to be a little less obnoxious, so she thought. The night had grown long, and Elhaym soon found herself alone as the tavern shut its doors for the night.
Well, not truly alone. The hinges of the trap door creaked as she threw it open, and rather than descending the small ladder she simply hopped down and drug the door closed behind her as she fell. Landing squarely on her legs and bending her knees to absorb the impact, she noted that her visitor had not bothered to light any of the torches or candles around the room. She thought that was because Symenestra liked to live in caves or holes or something, but she wasn't too sure. A slight feeling of unease nestled its way into her stomach… she had never really considered what this man may have done. Well, no matter. There was no doubt she could handle that pale wisp of a man in a fight.
"Hey, wake up."
Her eyes had not adjusted, but she found her way to a side table where a flint and steel lay just as they always did. In a practiced motion, she drug one across the other and produced a spark that immediately ignited on the oil wrapped cloth of a torch. She had done it a hundred times.
"Well, Knights will be looking for you for a day or so. They'll keep it all locked down nice and tight for a while, but when they don't find you they'll ease up. Else the people will start getting miffed, you know? Anyhow... what'd you do to rile them up so much? Just so you know, I'm no easy prey, so don't go thinking you can pull anything."
Her manner of speaking was so blunt that it didn't even sound like the words of a braggart, just the simple truth. She had unhitched the torch from its mount as she spoke, and now carried it to the center of the room to locate the Symenestra. The cellar was probably larger than Laszlo had expected, and filled with boxes of supplies as well as various foodstuffs. Elhaym's little living space was apparent; there was a hammock strung up between two stacks of barrels, and a chest that seemed to be stuffed to the brim with every worldly possession she had.
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