And she swam. [Lillis & Isikais]

[Lillis]

55th Day of Winter, 508AV She had only spent a handful of weeks as a slave to the man who'd kept her mother before she managed to slip away. Without a plan of any variety, her escape was reckless and idiotic, and in broad view of her captors. One moment she had been carrying a tray from one end of a small gathering of nobles to another, and the next minute she was standing on the waist-high stone wall, peering down at the waves that crashed against the cliffside. And it was by the grace of her Goddess that she did not dash her skull to pieces on the rocks when she dove off that balcony and into the water below. And then she swam. Concealed by the water that cradled her, she remained submerged, breaking through to the surface only every few hours to get her bearings. Compared to the slavers, these waters were gentle, and the constant expenditure of such energy gave her something to focus on besides the fact that she had not taken the time to find Caelum -- what if he'd been taken to Sunberth as well, and she had left without him? Several times she nearly turned back, but she stopped, realizing that she had no proof one way or another where he was. And so she swam. She paused every so often to burrow into a sandbar and rest, but otherwise she propelled herself forward as quickly as possible. She did take time to remove the heavy bangles and decorative gold chains that adorned a Sunberth slave; it pleased her to lay such finery to waste in the belly of the sea. When she emerged beneath the docks of Sahova, she breathed a sigh of relief and lifted herself out of the water and up onto the empty planking. She sat on the edge of the unused dock, her feet dangling over the water, and began to wring the water from her hair. There was a sort of giddiness in her exhaustion; she was jittery and agitated, perhaps slightly unnerved. What was it? She dropped the fistful of her heavy, wet hair and it hit her shoulders with a slap, but that was the only sound, it seemed. Round, cobalt eyes lifted to rove over her surroundings and aside from the lapping of the waves, she was surrounded by stillness and silence.

[Isikais]

It was not common for the denizens of the Citadel to make their way to the docks. The undead had little desire to deal with the insecurities of the living. For this reason the golems saw to all but the most important and complex situations in Port Silence. All of the Nuit had learned over the centuries, though, if there was one creature on Sahova who was likely to do something unusual, it was Isikais. His regular visits to the dock usually coincided with the departure of a ship delivering fresh corpses. He would wait a the outskirts until the boxes were unloaded and the living had fled on the earliest breeze that would carry them. Today was just one of those days. He had lurked in the mostly empty buildings near the docks, watching the unloading golems as they brought the cases for temporary storage, until the carrier golems would cart them up to the citadel to be stored and preserved for the waiting hosts. Having reviewed the corpses, just arrived, though, and finding nothing of use, Isikais made his way out to the docks to satisfy himself that he had viewed everything the latest ships had to offer. He pulled the billowing black robes around himself. There was a patience in his approach born of eternity repetition. The winter winds blew against dead flesh but aroused little sensation. His flesh, too smooth, the high gloss of ceramic, remained eerily still amidst the gyrating fabric of his hood. The unmistakable fragrance of rot and embalming fluid issued from the folds of cloth, betraying the state of his vessel hidden beneath the static perfection of his visible flesh. The slightest shift of a thin brow was the only outward expression of his surprise as he noticed the woman seated on the docks curiously observing her surroundings. "Have they left you behind?" His voice reverberated, an unnatural metallic quality to the tone, mechanical and slow.

[Lillis]

Lillis had been trembling gently as her body adjusted to the temperatures out of the water, but she visibly started at the sound of the stranger's voice. Jolting quickly around, one hand lifting absently to cover her pounding heart, her gaze landed on the source of the speaking. "I --" She rose slowly to her feet and turned around to face him, crossing her arms tightly over her torso. She had lost much of her modesty during the weeks spent among the slavers, but nevertheless, she felt a creeping self-consciousness as she took stock of her current state: Red silk pants clung damply from hip to ankle, and the midriff-bearing top that once boasted billowing sleeves stuck with water and seaweed from wrist to shoulder. She very much looked the part of a drowned cat. "Yes." She said in a tone quiet, but firm. "It seems I've been left behind." A pause. "Not left behind so much as ran away, er... I should say swam away? In any case, I am not presently with anyone else. Except you, now that you're here." She lifted a hand and rubbed her nose with the back of it, sweeping wet yellow curls form her eyes. "Is this..." She tilted her head back and looked about. "Sahova? I've read about it, but I've never seen it..." Lillis was looking for golems, but saw none. "I'm not armed," she said rather loudly, "and I'm here by accident, well, by necessity, and I'd like to stay for the night inside the city?" This was more to the air above than to the man in front of her. "And then I... I'll go, and I promise not be any trouble." Focusing a pair of stark, gray eyes on the stranger, she smiled then and gave a nod of her head by way of greeting. "I'm Lillis," she said. "Please, forgive me if I am behaving strangely. I have had an exceptionally long day."

[Isikais]

It had been quite some time since Isikais had heard so many words at once. Quite a bit longer since they had come with such a tangled rush of emoted confusion. He simply stared for a moment, attempting to process the flood of promises and pleas. Just as he had finally parsed the comments he realized that his focus had drifted and the continuous drip of djed needed to maintain his appearance had ceased. Static spotless flesh began to twitch erratically, hues of brown and gray creeping veins of rot and decay across his cheeks. Lips dried and thinned, bright blue eyes clouded to clouded milky white, and his thin black brows curled into a long silver tangle. It was only when eyebrows peeked into his line of sight that he realized he had lost his composure and likely terrified the young woman in the process. "My apologies Lillis. It takes a great deal of concentration to maintain my appearance." He pulled the hood a little lower as he spoke, covering what he could in shadow, without obscuring his view entirely. "You are indeed on Sahova. There is no city, only the Citadel. Being unarmed is in your best interest." He rattled off the responses in the order the questions had come, methodically addressing each, but the final request. He paused for another moment giving consideration to the unexpected find he had made on the docks. He wondered if any other creatures had similarly washed up on the island before this day. "You may spend the evening in my quarters, but I fear I have neither food nor water, nor storage for your...waste." He turned and began toward the citadel without waiting for a reply, there being no need to negotiate further. "It would be best if you spoke to none of the others while here." He added as he casually strode from the docks.

[Lillis]

It was not a look of terror that crossed her face as the visage of her companion began to transmute -- she had seen much greater horrors in her time and she had done enough reading on Sahova and it's inhabitants to know, in only the most basic terms, that they were not... alive, so to speak. But she did stare, quite unabashedly, pretty cerise lips slightly parted, cobalt eyes round and wide as saucers. She found it exceedingly difficult to resist the urge to poke at him -- but her mother had raised her well and she had no desire to offend her would-be host, nor to anger him in any way (for, indeed, if he could keep up a mask of flesh through will alone, Gods only knew what else he was capable of) and thus, she kept both hands clenched in tiny fists, arms curled around herself for warmth. "Thank you," she said at length, visibly snapping out of her fit of staring and casting her gaze to the planking beneath their feet before deigning to meet his eyes once more. "I appreciate it, much more than I can say. I'll be fine without food or water for one more day, I'm sure, and can tend to my own... waste." She blinked and stepped quickly to keep up with him as he made his way off of the docks. "Why?" She asked, trailing a foot or so behind him. "Why shouldn't I speak to anyone else?" She wondered briefly if she might be the only actual living thing on this island just at present and the notion exacerbated the chill that had seeped all the way into her bones. "I won't, I just mean... why?"

[Isikais]

Why? The question itself was the reason. There was an incessant hum to the living that was not to be found on Sahova. Only the ocean winds moved with such unpredictable rapidity. Though the Nuit escaped the absolute stillness of true Death, time it seemed would be a slow thief of vigor. With all of Eternity before them, the scale of time grew wide, days replacing hours, as a regular measure of time. Such an inflation of time would appear to the mortal observer as, alternately, patience or lethargy. Whatever descriptor was more accurate, the view from the other side was far less flattering. To creatures of such longevity the living were a haze of furious thrashing, always burning hot and fast. Fearful of the end that death brought, curiosity desperately grasped for some shred of satisfaction before the end; an end which for the Nuit, would come only when they invited it. "Because they will not be as patient as I." Isikais called back as he walked the path toward the Citadel. "We are static creatures, the Nuit, uninterested in change we do not create." He paused, only his head turning a full half circle to face her, features smoothed into rigid and flawless lines. "The kindest will think you an annoyance. The worst will think you a disruption. If you have read as you say, you can imagine how we handle "disruptions" on Sahova." There was only a hint of menace to his otherwise even tone. His neck crackled and popped, head returning to a forward position, and he continued walking. He considered silently as they traveled the road and neared the massive Citadel gates, that there might be a third possibility. He had chosen to omit this possibility, for fear the the young creature might inadvertently hear his own intentions in the comments. There was always the possibility that they may simply wish to study her and learn what secrets of flesh and djed she may harbor.

[Lillis]

"Oh." And that was all she had to say in response. She followed at a quick pace behind him, allowing her eyes to dart this way and that as they moved -- she made no effort to constrain her curiosity, but she did keep her lips tightly sealed. Well, for the most part. "I didn't catch your name," she said with perhaps an undertone of forced levity. "I don't typically make it a habit of shacking up with strangers for the night." She also did not tend to make it a habit to be set upon by slavers (though that, admittedly, had become somewhat of a trend) nor to dive from balconies into the rocky waters below, nor to spend several days under water, nor to emerge in the city of the dead. Undead. She shuddered. "Thank you," she added, "for letting me stay with you. It's incredibly generous..." and she had quickly run out of any other options whatsoever, save another night in the embrace of the sea.

[Isikais]

"Nader Isikais Rozat." It was more a declarative than a name, the way he rattled it off. The trail was not entirely straight, but it always traveled north, rising at a steady incline, the highest ramparts of the citadel apparent first, then the long stone bridge, and finally the massive doors. Still, so close to the heart of the island, where so many mages lived, there was a plenary silence. The pair did not stop to request entrance from some unseen gatehouse, or some guard hidden in the ramparts. The doors simply opened wide, unbidden. A corridor of dull glowing orbs leading into the dim stone hallways. Even the sound of rodents or the buzzing of insects was missing in the corridors of Sahova's great bastion of the walking dead. They wandered the halls, double-backs and roundabout through identically plain passages. It would have been easy for a visitor to think that the route was a ruse, designed to confuse and mock the unfamiliar. In truth it was the layout of the complex, unfettered with directional posts or landmarks of nearly any sort. It would be easy to assume that the designers intended to befuddle, sending would be intruders wandering amidst dangers and defenses. "While I will not prevent you from wandering the halls of Sahova until you meet your untimely demise, I can assure you that leaving my quarters will bring you only that." Again, that hint of menace, that began to seem his best attempt at compassion. Finally arriving at a simple wooden door, the likes of which they must have passed hundreds of times so far, Isikais produced a key from the folds of his robes. It was a closet of a room, ten feet by fifteen at most, a single full length mirror, white and red runes drawn over the face in wax pencil. Beside the mirror a hip-high and decrepit wooden table of drawers held a roll of wax pencils and an assortment of papers. Against the other wall a large wood and metal studded chest was the only furniture. No windows, no candles, and only a single yellow orb suspended from the ceiling by hook and string to provide light. "These are my quarters. Do not touch anything." Isikais muttered, as he went straight away to the mirror. Placing a hand to one of the glyphs, he closed his eyes, repeating the same phrase over and over, a nearly inaudible whisper. The runes all began to glow, light pulsing colors dancing across the glass. Flesh began to shift again, cheekbones wandering slightly higher, irises paled to crystalline blues. Strands of lush brown hair began to curl down over his face. When it was done he ran a hand across his cheek, and up, pushing the unruly locks back, along with the hood of his robe. "There. I assume this will make you less uncomfortable." He seemed human for the first time, flesh vibrant with life, and body suddenly less rigid. Walking to the chest Isikais removed the first article of clothing stacked neatly within. It was an old uniform, foreign to most all who lived today. An Alahean soldier's garb, grey and gold with the worn emblem of the great fallen nation sewn neatly onto the chest. Isikais looked to Lillis, a gentle half smile, and the first human looking expression he had delivered.

[Lillis]

Lillis followed quietly, obediently, attempting to keep track of just where she was headed in case some tragic turn of events required her to recall the way out with urgency. She let his subtle threats wash over her with but a simple nod of acknowledgment: death did not frighten Lillis. She saw the countless deaths of her former selves while she slept; saw the deaths of countless strangers when awake. It seemed to her that, aside from the rather revolting effects of decay, the Nuit had a good thing going: they had managed to remove themselves from the cycle. Upon their arrival to the appropriate door, she counted the doors that lead to the nearest corner back in the direction they'd come from and stepped into the small room behind him, keeping her hands to herself as she was usually wont to do. She focused on him curiously as he went about his strange ritual and wondered silently why the runes were familiar. And when he had finished, she smiled warmly and had to admire the craftsmanship of it -- he looked healthy, almost. "You look nice," she said easily, only then aware of what a wreck she must be, all smudged with sand and seaweed. She plucked some of the offending greenery from her hair and twisted it between her fingers, not sure of what to do with it. "So, um..." She felt the brief, albeit sharp, pang of regret at leaving all that golden finery in the ocean: all she had, it seemed, were the slaves clothes on her back, red silk and dripping. "Do you... um. Is it -- does it hurt?" A pause, while she crinkled her nose and fixed her gaze on him. "The whole, body switching business, when you... you know... transfer? Does it... I read that it takes a while, but does it hurt?"

[Isikais]

"Thank you." Isikais watched the woman pluck the greenery from her clothes, the occasional drip of seawater splashing against stone floors. Careful to observe the modesty she had displayed at the docks, Isikais put his pants on first, under the robes, then, lifting them over his head, put the jacket on without a shirt. "I have no undergarments for you." He said, handing the white button down top of the uniform to her with one hand, and reaching for a set of trousers with the other. "And I have no womens clothing." Isikais handed off the garments and turned his back, offering her a modicum of privacy in the tiny room. "No, it doesn't hurt." Fingers ran across his collar, tracing the patterns of gold thread. "But it does leave me rather exhausted. For that reason I try to do it as infrequently as possible." He lied. Humans always seemed perturbed by the process of changing bodies, despite the fact that only corpses were used, this woman, he imagined, would be no different. "Tell me, young woman, how did you end up wet and alone on the Island of the Dead? It is not an enviable fate." Still facing the wall, Isikais held out a hand for the wet clothes. It would not be wise to leave such things in this chamber, the water and sea-flora threatening mold in such poorly ventilated conditions.