Sunsets Keep No Secrets [Nira'lia]

[Pash'nar]

If only the Konti's persistent cheerfulness could have been contagious. Unfortunately, it wasn't, and there was only so much Pash'nar could do to keep a petulant look of irritation off of his wind-swept features as he looked away from the pale woman and out to sea. Syna's last fires were glinting off the waves, and he sighed, inked shoulders sagging as he felt time slowly slip away like the tide. He smirked at her comment about loneliness, though he wasn't particularly sure he could reply in a way that wouldn't incriminate himself. For now, he was just their guide, their navigator, and their connection to the other Svefra who'd agreed to let them use their larger ship for transportation. He didn't quite feel like their friend—not with the distrust of a kelvic at his throat or the dislike of the Drykas at every moment. Nira'lia was at least making effort to look past his purposefully swarthy exterior, though she had the aid of her own race's gift to speed up the process. No one else had that advantage. Certainly not Sariana, though, if she knew the game he'd played, he was certain he'd be in trouble. What had she told her two companions about her night with a pale, statuesque creature? He wondered. The seas looked calm enough as the skies began to darken. The dark-haired sailor hoped they would stay that way for the night—it was one thing to take care of himself in times of trouble and another to have a passenger like the Konti. "When you met your ethaefal friend, did you see all there was to see?" Cerulean eyes pulled away from the sea, finally sparkling with a hint of mischief instead of the far-away moodiness that was so typically awash in his expressions as he looked back at Nira'lia. The navigator's voice was almost coy, taunting. He could feel the sway of Leth begin to creep across his skin. Pash kept his bare feet on the rudder but let his hands slide away to rest on the rails. He leaned back and held the Konti's gaze. Syna surrendered to Leth for the evening and his eyes never changed, even while his skin faded and paled like cloth bleached in the sun. Tan gave way to opalescence and even his tattoos all but disappeared: only the faintest of lines could be seen in familiar places. His body lengthened and grew almost a full foot taller, limbs elongating and facial features sharpening like a vision coming into more focus. Two horns even whiter than moonlight sprouted from a perfected forehead, obsidian tips catching the lingering light from underneath hair that was suddenly sea foam instead of black. What was blurred before was now made more perfect, more etherial. A hand-carved shard of moonlight where a swarthy sailor once had been, like two different faces of the same coin, "If not, now you have."

[Nira'lia]

If she had seen an ethaefal transform before, she didn't say it. All she did was look at him and marvel at the sight. As night finally arrived completely, Pash'nar's body changed with it. The tattoos left his skin, he grew in size, and iridescent horns appeared from his head. Even his hair had changed. Nira'lia already knew that ethaefals were a vision to behold, but she still couldn't stop herself from admiring him. He might have said something, but she took no notice of it. There was another matter weighing on her mind... a nagging thought that she had seen him before. It dawned to her then why this form of his was vaguely familiar to her. Nira'lia had seen that face before through someone else's memory -- Sariana's memory. Sariana had spoken to her about a horned man, and Nira'lia had taken a peek at her chavi just to get an idea. The konti went pale as she pieced it together. He was the man Sariana had been speaking about! She didn't really peek too deeply into Sariana's memories to know what had happened, but she did know that Sariana had no idea about who he really was. "You certainly have a lot of secrets," said Nira'lia, her face white. She paused. Should she tell him about what she knew? She battled in her mind about telling him. Nira'lia had already upset him with her konti gift, and now she knew yet another thing about him that she wasn't supposed to now? In the end, she decided against it. The konti gave him a shaky grin. "Well, doesn't matter, your secrets are safe with me," she said plainly, referring to what she knew about his race and other facts that he didn't know she knew.

[Pash'nar]

The statuesque sailor laughed with audible discomfort, shifting his gaze back to the sea for a few silent moments, feeling accused by her choice of words. Normally, he didn't feel the need to keep secrets much at all about the nature of his separate seemings, but he'd played quite a game for a night's worth of pleasure … with someone he'd been hired to transport over the sea. Now, he was stuck here in his petching boat with a petching terrible hand of cards that he dealt himself, knowing the risks and considering all of them worth taking. Unchanged cerulean eyes narrowed briefly at the Konti, suspicion creasing aquiline features: What did she know? "Do I need t'keep my secret safe, lass?" Pash'nar smirked with bravado and attempted to dig a little at the pale woman's intentions with her choice of words, testing the waters' depth with a careful, quiet question. Had Sariana mentioned their unexpectedly heated moments to the women she chose to travel with? Was this why the kelvic hated him—was it jealous? Did the Konti intend to mock his choices now that she'd seen his true face? The ethaefal scowled, unable to disguise his discomfort from Nira'lia, though he let his suspicion cover his weak lies for the sake of conversation, "I ain't one t'keep secrets much 'less I have to. Sometimes, it's better'n makin' a mess when there's no time t'clean up." He regretted his words as soon as he said them. He did keep secrets, and he took an opportunist delight in exploiting them on occasion. Still, he still stung a little from her accusation of loneliness. He'd felt those pangs before, but he'd be the one making petching decisions on how that steered his course. Sometimes, it was best to keep one's mouth shut when it would waltz you into a trap, as well. The navigator hissed and chewed the inside of his cheek, chagrined and ready to eat his own words. "Are y'always questioning' the motives of fallen celestials? I ain't gonna say I blame you."

[Nira'lia]

With a shrug, Nira'lia kept her unwilting gaze on the ethaefal. He had such an enchanting image that she couldn't take her eyes off him. She listened to his words carefully and tried to answer in the most neutral way possible. The konti hated giving advices that were based on her own opinion. "Up to you. Do you want to keep your secret safe?" However, if she had to answer as honestly as she could... she'd want him not to regard it as a secret. This form of his was beautiful, and she couldn't understand why he was keeping it from Sariana, or anybody else for that matter. It took all her energy not to ask about it. "I don't know what 'mess' you might be referring to. I'd say trying to avoid a mess sometimes makes it worse, though... if that makes any sense," she grinned at him brightly. As a konti, she often had a gut feeling about things. These were feelings that she couldn't interpret into something more, and she had no idea what they were for. Even now, when she smiled at him, it was clear that she felt uneasy about the whole situation. All she knew was that she believed it would probably be much easier for him if he didn't keep this a secret. Somehow, she felt like something would be blown out of proportion soon. She didn't tell him this, though. "I don't question the motives of the ethaefal!" she replied with a giggle. "I'm curious, yes, and if that offends you... well, you'd have to get used to it!" Nira'lia smiled at him. "Besides, I can say the same about you. You've done nothing but be wary of me, or Sariana, or Sylkra. Do you always question the motives of everyone around you?"

[Pash'nar]

"Motives? I dunno." The pale navigator shifted uncomfortably, leaning a bit with the wind to steer his old casinor a bit further from the parivel as evening began to settle into inky darkness. The stars twinkled already, dancing off the surprisingly calm deep of the Suvan. Pash'nar scanned the horizon for the faint little cluster of stars that served as his name sake, answering with a distance in his voice dragged slowly over waves and time, "It ain't a matter of questionin', I s'pose, so much as expectin'." He'd learned quickly enough the reactions of most to his earthbound seeming; it often felt as though only Svefra trusted Svefra … And, under Leth's sway, the sheer variance of reactions to a more celestial seeming always left him feeling more uncomfortable than anything else. Amazing or frightening, it seemed as though Nira'lia was a rare, seasoned professional when it came to encountering an ethaefal. Her lack of any particular sway was, honestly, a relief. "Hard to trust a Svefra, eh? Mayhaps I've just learned t'live up to the sentiment." He smirked, deep lines creasing into his statuesque features, avoiding a more direct answer with a racial slur that didn't even necessarily apply to him at all. It was hollow. A defense. Part of the wall that kept things out, at arm's length. He sniffed and looked back at the Konti, something more feral taking over his sour expression and turning it into a much more honest, if not a little intimidating sort of grin, "Aw, petch it. I ain't much of a Svefra 'less I want to be anyways. I jus' find gettin' in trouble interestin' sometimes. I might have bit off more'n'I can chew, though. S'okay. Won't be the first." Shallow waters were harder to sail, but he'd struggled with depth in life and in relationships in general (friendships or otherwise) for more than a few decades. Shallow waters were safer, after all. The lure of excitement was more of a coping mechanism than anything else—it was easier to seek adventure (good or bad) than it was to face the reality of being far from what he perceived as home. It'd become much deeper than that, but it was, if one could take the time to read between the lines, the ethaefal's current in life for the moment. "You make't sound easy—stayin' outta trouble." He teased, arching a sea foam brow.

[Nira'lia]

The konti couldn't help but give a light shrug. Ethaefal or Svefra, she already had experience with both. While an ethaefal was much more difficult to come by, she was from Zeltiva, where a lot of Svefra passed. While they were not trusted by some, they were a common sight in Zeltiva – that said, she was not one of those who didn't trust them just because of their race. Nira'lia listened and his words brought upon a look of puzzlement to her expression. "It's not that staying out of trouble is easy... more of, getting into trouble is much more challenging," she said. Nira'lia didn't know why, but that's how she felt. It was as if whatever trouble Pash'nar thought he was in, it seemed to be a consequence of whatever decisions he had chosen. Choosing the wrong decisions on purpose wasn’t something that Nira'lia would be able to do naturally. The konti was simple-minded and transparent, regarded as dim to some people, but she seldom got into trouble for it. She was not one to dig herself into a hole because of lies or games or bad decisions. At most, her obliviousness would lead to others being irritated, but that was it. And so, she simply couldn't relate with Pash'nar's thoughts. "I don't get it, though... do you think you're in trouble right now? And if you are, you said yourself that you find that sort of thing interesting. So, good for you, right?" said the konti.

[Pash'nar]

He laughed again, shaking his head with a toss of sea foam hair and pale, pale horns. Perhaps if she knew the details of the situation he'd entangled himself in, his words would have made more sense. He persisted in being obtuse, navigating the long way around the heart of the specific issue, for the sake of the Konti's friendship with his other passengers. Whatever his intentions had been for his more intimate choices, he was sure Nira'lia didn't need that on her slight shoulders between her traveling companions. "Ah, petch it." The opalescent ethaefal cursed hoarsely, thumbing his nose at the pale woman, "You're a young sprog, eh? Still a bit wet behind th'ears. Well, maybe that joke ain't as funny 'bout Konti, but you're at least all full of that Syna-blessed sunshine an' smiles an' those one-horned things with rainbows. It's nice, but it's tirin'. Anyways, look, how's 'bout I let you sit 'ere an' I tell you what to do for a while instead, eh?" Pash'nar leaned and tied the mainsail line down to its winch as he teased the young woman, all the while with a smile carved into his aquiline features. Sure, her cheerfulness was refreshing, but it was also difficult to defend against. The best way to handle the assault was simply to change the subject. With a sailing lesson! The shard of moonlight stood and stepped down off his perch at the stern of the ship with a wave of a pale hand, "Go on an' make yourself comfortable. You'll be steerin' 'er in no time. Then I can be scoutin' …" He winked, but his tone wasn't as joking as his expression. He was indeed out at sea and at a distance from the slightly more relative safety of the larger palivar to look out for pirates or sea monsters or whatever could be worse than those things. It wasn't every night he was spoiled with a spare set of hands. Keeping the ship straight, under supervision, was simple enough. Even the smiling young Konti could do that. "Jus' rest your feet there. It ain't the standard method of steerin', but its the, uh, Pash method of things. Put that together m'self." He ducked the boom to his mainsail and stood with a hand on the jib, using his free hand to direct Nira'lia into position.

[Nira'lia]

"I wasn't telling you what to do..." the konti whispered sheepishly. However, she hopped down from where she was seated, enthusiastic. She didn't even have an inkling that he had purposely changed the subject on purpose. Her oblivious and simplistic mind was now too focused at what he could possibly teach her. Nira'lia couldn't help but notice that he had a smile on his face. Perhaps talking about sailing was one of those things that could do that, she didn't know. She decided to push the observation aside since he obviously didn’t enjoy being ‘judged’. "Wait, so you want me to steer the ship?" she asked as she put her hands on the tiller. It was the first time in her life that she was going to be given such a privilege. Nira'lia followed his instructions and steadied her hands upon the tiller. Even if he had been using his feet up until this point, the konti thought she'd get more leverage if she just leaned down and used her hands. Something in her knew she'd probably just trip over it if she did it his way. Just to experiment, she slowly moved the tiller slightly to the right to see if anything would happen. Disappointed, she found out that such a slight movement didn't really amount to much. The tiller was heavier than she thought which was not surprising considering that it was meant to direct the whole ship. Surely, careless little movements shouldn't amount to much. "Am I doing this right?" she asked, glancing at Pash'nar. In reality, the konti wasn't really doing anything, her hands were literally just on the tiller. However, she felt quite proud with herself. "Wait, I think the waves are sending us to the right, let me get us back on path..." The konti had no previous experience with steering a ship, and she thought that pushing the tiller to the left would get them to that direction. However, to her surprise, the ship actually turned to the other direction, which caused them to lose their original path even more. "What happening!? I think it's broken!" exclaimed Nira'lia in a fit. "Oh... wait... oh." The konti realized that moving the tiller to one direction would move the ship to the other. It made sense when she thought of its position and the rudder's. Embarrased, she put the ship back to its right path. "Ah, sorry..." she said. "I think I got it now."

[Pash'nar]

Pash'nar managed to keep his balance (and his head safe) while Nira'lia experimented with her freedom at the tiller, laughing a little at her surprise and confusion. He didn't speak up right away, however, allowing her to take her time and figure things out, one pale hand on the mast so he didn't stumble as the ship rocked a bit before the Konti found how the directions moved opposite her natural perception. "Oh, aye. It ain't so hard." He finally grinned, "Steerin's prolly th'easy part, once y'get the hang of it. It's chartin' an' navigatin' that can get complicated, though the stars are clear an' easy to read tonight." He glanced up as he spoke, attempting to determine their location by the constellations that stretched across the early night sky. He recognized their slow motions, scanning for the most familiar and brightest beacons. They were still a fair distance from Alvadas, obviously, and it was less the journey that seemed dangerous than the monsters the djed storm seemed to have drudged up from the depths of the sea in the wake of its chaos. "Lean a bit more toward 'at there an' you'll find us runnin' more parallel to the parivel." He pointed toward a small arch of stars that almost looked like the back of a turtle shell in profile, "Keepin' those stars square in view will lead us toward th'Patchwork Port an' Ionu's City in no time." He nodded once he felt they were facing properly and arched a brow in the woman's direction, "What brings you so far from th'White Isle, anyways? I thought your kind liked it there." Had he been less sober, he may have joked that it seemed rather entertaining in his mind—an Isle full of lovely women who enjoyed the sea as much as himself. Perhaps too entertaining on occasion. He chuckled, though he realized not all Konti necessarily called Mura home, the majority of them did, "Unless o'course it ain't where you're from." He understood well enough that not everyone ended up where they belonged.

[Nira'lia]

When Pash'nar looked up at the night sky, Nira'lia mimicked him. She stared up at the skiy, even if she couldn't interpret what she could see. Nira'lia didn't know really know much about stars, but one thing she could agree on was that they were pretty to look at. Nira'lia stared up at the arch of stars he was pointing at. Was that a constellation? Because of her curiosity, she asked, and hoped she could learn a thing or two about astronomy. "Does that group of stars have a name?" she asked as she did her best to manipulate the tiller into moving the boat towards the direction of the stars. Nira'lia repeated the words that he had said in her mind -- Patchwork Port, Ionu's City -- she had heard Alvadas being called by many different names, and since she was going to be staying there for an indefinite amount of time, she attempted to scavenge as much information about it as she could. She listened to his question about the White Isle, an expression of slight sadness spreading over her face. The Konti couldn't help but notice the chuckle that he gave, and she shot him a puzzled stare. "W-what's so funny?" Nira'lia was finally content with the direction of the boat, and judging from the nod that he gave her, she came to the conclusion that he was fine with it as well. She took her hands away from the tiller and relaxed herself. "I'm not from Mura, I've never been there," she said simply. "The only images I have of it are a product of words and memories of other people." The Konti didn't know why he'd even be slightly interested in her life, but since she had involuntarily delved into his secrets already, she thought it would be a favor to share some things that she didn't normally talk about. "I've lived in Zeltiva half my life, and before that, I was in Sunberth... I, uhm, I was bred to be a slave," after a pause, she kept a lingering stare on him. She wondered if he had ever seen Mura -- it was her lifelong dream to go there. "Have you ever been to Mura? What can you tell me about it? I want to go there, but fate says I have other things to attend to as of now."