Closed A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Laszlo and Fia pretend they're not dreadfully sad.

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Fia Eaven on October 31st, 2012, 4:23 am


Day 89, Fall 512

When Laszlo swung his front door open to answer the knock, he didn't even have the chance to summon her name, brief though it was, before her voice shook the air.
"Oh fancy that," Fia half hooted her greeting, "The hermit scholar is still indoors!" She grinned and added, "You make me wonder if Syna really was your lady love." Her bright head bobbed toward the clear, cold light. Late autumn had turned Syna's rays the color of frost, making her akin to her lover's hues. "It's not good for either of us to be cooped up. Me Da said sunshine could starve all kinds of maladies. So, get yourself presentable. A lady of me standing can't be caught with something shabby as an Ethaefal." Her hands made a shooing motion, an attempt to compel Laszlo into obedience. If he hesitated, she was lost. It would feed her doubts about the whole outing and she would turn useless and bashful.

Fia waited on the porch lest she be tempted in and made to stay put. It would have been easy to hoard her indoors. She was already tottering on her feet and her stomach was curling with apprehension. Tomorrow she would return to the musty folds of her room after the forge, but today she was going to raise her face toward sky. Laszlo was her unlucky crutch for the afternoon. If there was someone else to cheer, she wouldn't be so mindful of her thoughts.
"I heard of the best view in Lhavit," she called into the house, "It'll be cold up so high. Wear warm things."

When Laszlo was finally wheedled into the light, Fia made a pretty sound of delight. "You're changing colors!" It made her laugh for reasons unknown, perhaps directed at her own ebullience. Her spirited air coiled itself and rested in her eyes before she spoke again, showing a measure of subdued courtesy. "It's nice."

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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Laszlo on October 31st, 2012, 6:14 am

He could guess who it was before he even answered the door. A growing familiarity battled back the notion of surprise when he found the Denvali standing on his doorstep. Laszlo would have liked to greet her in an easy cadence and welcome her inside, but Fia was developing a habit of making unique entrances. She forced the hello back into this throat before he could even speak.

Laszlo's snuffed greeting, still waiting for its turn, shaped into new words before she was finished talking.

"The hermit scholar is still indoors! You make me wonder if Syna really was your lady love."

"Is?" he corrected defensively, feeling childishly affronted. Amber colored eyes briefly searched past Fia's slight stature, as if seeking escape from this sudden assault of kind declarations. He was helpless to defend himself, stunned back into silence while she told him they were to spend the afternoon outside. Ultimately he surrendered, wearing a bemused expression.

When at last she shooed him, Laszlo felt himself take a step backward from the open door, but he paused there. "Um…" He took a look around his flat, doing a quick run of his thoughts. An open book was still laid open on the sofa, heartlessly abandoned. It would still be there come evening. A few seconds later, he raised his eyebrows back at Fia.

"Alright." His own answer surprised him. Well, why not? What did he have going on today? "Just let me, uh…" He lifted one hand to point toward his bedroom, accompanied by a cant of his head. Another moment and he vanished around the corner.

Laszlo reappeared in a brown jacket, with a dark yellow scarf of silk wrapped around his neck. His cloak was retrieved with a practiced flourish as he exited the flat and hung it over one arm as he pulled his door shut and then paused to lock it.

"What?" Laszlo turned back to Fia, who was looking at his hair. Or his horns. He could never tell which. "Oh, yes." He sent his appendages a sidelong glance. "I look like a spruce tree in Winter. A fair trade-off for being ginger all season." The heavy cloak was swept between both arms and thrown onto his shoulders, draping his tall form in a dark curtain of charcoal. It didn't suit him, the top of him colored like a tree in autumn, but it was warm and served its purpose. A quick flick of his wrist freed his short ponytail from the weight of the fabric.

While he was fastening the chain clasp, he became present-minded enough to notice that Fia was ginger as well. "I'm sorry. I'm not really sure if that was offensive. Your hair is very nice."

He beckoned her onward with the sweep of his arm, asking her to lead. "Where are we going?" The tone of his voice made it sound as if she had already told him and he'd forgotten. "Forgive me if I seem disoriented. I'm not often kidnapped." The Ethaefal wore a faint, but warm smile by the time he ended his sentence.
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Fia Eaven on November 1st, 2012, 9:34 am

"Does it matter?" she asked with a faded smile, "I'm just glad to be out with company." The last word sounded more like "you" in the ear. "I won't tease, though. The Observatory on Sartu Peak. Never been at any time of day. Seemed a shame." In their previous conversations, Laszlo was either stooped or sitting. Fia now found herself having to toss words up to reach him.
"I don't often kidnap. So don't expect a neat job of it. You may not believe it, but I am called shy in some corners of the world. You've just forced me hand by being shyer." It wasn't entirely meant. She knew her state of mind wasn't one that begged for impromptu visits like the ones she inflicted on him.
"How's your katana, by the by? Are you taking care of it?" Her eyes cast forward again, catching a passerby's head quirk in curiosity. Laszlo had been in stranger pairings, but she hadn't. She was still a fraction of autumn, crowned in reds and gilt, where tall Laszlo was winter's evergreen with shadows in its boughs. Time permeated him, but spared him its residue. Fia saw the glimmer of her first thought again and took it by the tail. "It's good to have something to defend yourself with." She had seen the grisly, sudden consequences of being unprepared. "I used to have a slingshot. Pity all places aren't as docile as Lhavit." She glanced up and back at Laszlo, her face telling a minor tale of amazement, "I have heard of cities where even common men know a bit of magic."
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Laszlo on November 1st, 2012, 11:19 am

The katana? Laszlo glanced at Fia beside him, feeling the sharp pang of a forgotten obligation. Eventually he just tossed up his eyebrows and returned his attention to the city in front of him, concealing his guilt in nonchalance. "It's in fine shape." He gave his usual vague reply while she was pulled into her thoughts. "I've barely even gotten into any sword fights since you last furbished it."

Truth was he hadn't removed the weapon from its scabbard since Fia brought it to his home. She had shown him ways to care for the blade properly, so he could no longer blame his lack of knowing how. Like cleaning up his flat, it simply became one of many things left by the wayside. He wondered without caring if his indolence was a symptom of something larger.

The luxuriant hanging gardens, iconic of Lhavit, that usually spilled from suspended balconies and sprawled across flowerbeds had atrophied over the course of Fall. The natural warmth of skyglass kept the city partially protected against the full force of a high Kalean Winter, but many lovely things were simply not meant for colder weather. Many of the decorative trees—not the evergreens of course—were half stripped of gold and red leaves. Long tangles of ivy had dried up and died, to be replaced by its offspring after the Winter.

Leaf husks blew past Laszlo's feet as he walked, skittering along the road as if they had some place to go. Slaves to the whims of a fickle breeze. It was probably good that Fia had pulled him from the confines of his apartment. She wanted the company, and he needed it, even if he sometimes thought he didn't.

She mentioned magic, which piqued his attention. Naturally, the topic struck some inner chimes, but he hastily grasped at them and held them together to force their silence.

"All of the Shinya are wizards, by tradition," Laszlo pointed out. "I've seen some of the magic they practice. They dedicate their lives to its study and control. I wouldn't want to be a pickpocket in a city safeguarded by that kind of power. Probably why Lhavit is so docile." The Ethaefal narrowed his eyes as he reflected on what he'd said. "That came out grim. I apologize."

A quick clearing of his throat helped put his thoughts back into alignment. "I can see it. You with a slingshot. I bet you have impeccable aim." He could somehow imagine the sight of her killing a hapless quail for dinner without a flicker of pity. Laszlo hardly knew her, but Fia seemed to possess a brave pioneer's sense of conviction and practicality.

"How are you getting by?" It wasn't quite as direct as "how are you holding up", but it was more polite. "I've found Lhavit is very kind to its newcomers. The natives are usually quite accommodating and patient. Have you found a place to live yet or are you still staying at the inn?"

As they crossed over the bridge to the Sartu, Laszlo impassively crossed eyes with several strangers who noticed him passing by. In the day, the Lhavitians were more scattered and sluggish, but the few active and about were still pleased to see an Ethaefal. Some smiled, or even waved. Others remembered his more shadowy companion. He wondered if they realized that, for all of the previous Summer, there had been a different woman walking next to him.
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Fia Eaven on November 2nd, 2012, 3:43 am

"You flatter me," she laughed, "It's been so long. I probably couldn't hit Dusk Tower if it was about to fall on me." She responded to this compliment over the one bestowed on her tresses. One was a skill able to be earned, the other merely chance in the blood indifferent to effort or goodness. At least Ethaefal had purchased their beauty with years of devotion. The rest of them either lorded it without right or felt the insipid cruelty of its absence.

"Oh, it is a grand city," she said an easy sing-song, "But it feels too bright at times, and far away." She seemed puzzled by her own appraisal, "I sound ungrateful, when I am not. But…" she was trying to wake whatever roosted in the back of her throat, "Do ever get the feeling something is so fine it can't be yours? It's like looking at stars. The lonely majestic multitude." It was spoken as a line not her own, but she couldn't remember what voice made it beautiful to her. "There's nothing of me in these peaks. All the earth I turned is Laviku's now." Fia caught herself speaking a dreamy vapor of what thoughts visited her in the night watches. It made a single point in her cheeks color.
"I didn't mean to get dreary. No," she finally answered, "Haven't found anything that felt enough like home. I'm likely being too picky about things. When you lose a true thing, all you have left are ideas of it. And I think ideas are more demanding than a real thing ever could be."
Fia put the tips of her fingers over her lips and made wan smiles beneath them. Her voice was humble. "You should rap me on the head when I start to talk like that, Laszlo."
A crossroad was met and her hand floated outward involuntarily, as if to pull him her direction. It settled back to her side, the fingers flexing around memory.
"I think it's this way. Do you know the city well?" she smiled, as if proud of him, "It seems to know you."
He would start to realize this was her first trickling step down this way. New courtyards and gardens were small enchantments to her fluttering by like moths. The queenly towers and purple peaks drew less of her eyes than the fine filigree on a gate or the bent head of a crocus. Occasionally she glanced to Laszlo, as if to say look at this. Despite it all, the world could be generous. It seemed a thing both of them needed to hear. Why do you seem acquainted with mourning, Laszlo? It was on her breath, but never spoken.
"So why 'Laszlo'? I imagine if you can pick your own name, it means something."
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Laszlo on November 2nd, 2012, 5:05 am

"I abhor violence," Laszlo answered defiantly, giving Fia a playfully chiding look. It took a little longer for him to form a meaningful reply. His mind preferred to work slowly, needing time to digest her wandering thoughts. When you lose a thing, all you have left are the ideas of it. Too right, Fia.

He knew what she meant, the likes of her being something like a speck of hardy ash on the surface of a well cut gem. She struggled to feel as though she belonged. It made Laszlo wonder what Denval must have been like. "It's a challenge, being forced to move forward once the familiar has been stripped away. And I agree. Sometimes I think Lhavit is too dazzling." To his night form, where mere starlight could have been enough illumination, parts of the city could be literally too bright to look at.

There was something he'd read in one of the books he'd borrowed from the library. It took a moment to remember the exact wording. "Sublime upon sublime scarcely presents a contrast, and we need a little rest from everything. Even the beautiful."

It seems to know you.

The Ethaefal responded with a gentle smile and a quiet chuckle, without parting his lips or giving an immediate reply.

Sometimes, Laszlo managed to possess an immortal's patience. He was still new, and standing against eternity, he had barely begun, but having confronted death on several occasions had made him see the precious short time that earthly creatures were given. Where most mortals seemed to consider their lives in ten-year increments, his had no marked end. The passing of days would never ebb away at his youth or vitality. At least not on the outside.

It became clear to Laszlo that Fia was not absolutely sure where she was going, but he was in no hurry to push her in the right direction. Whenever she seemed uncertain, he moved absentmindedly toward the Observatory, wordlessly showing her which way to go so she could continue leading him. He was glad to let their pace slow to a meander while she absorbed the new, sparkling features of the Sartu Peak.

"I work for another Ethaefal in the city," he said finally, allowing their conversation to take the same pace as their tour through Lhavit. "He's a prominent alchemist and teacher, and he's very busy. I run messages and packages for him all over the city. I've become familiar with the roads, but there are still places I don't know."

When he was still learning the twists and turns of the city in the sky, Laszlo's first impressions had been darkened by his purpose for coming to this place. Fia was downtrodden by her own tragedies, but she had come with higher hopes and wider eyes. He watched her with a hazy smile, vicariously absorbing her enchantment over delightful things he had overlooked before.

His expression acquired a thoughtful shadow when she asked him about his chosen name. Laszlo looked down.

"There was a little girl I knew in Syliras. She's the one who found me after I washed ashore, and she claimed she saw me fall." Courtney Fenwick. She would have been a few years older by now. Likely her memories of the strange, beautiful horned man she once knew had been soured. Or perhaps she thought the Symenestra she saw had done away with him. "Her pet bird had recently died, and he was called Laszlo. She was convinced I was his reincarnated form. I had no name that I could give her at the time, so that was the one she used for me."

Children of course struggled with the concepts of death and the things that followed. Her puerile attempt to understand the nature and motion of the ukalas had been charmingly obtuse. "I grew fond of it. Suppose I liked the idea that someone had been waiting for me to come back."

Having reached the Sartu's highest tier, Laszlo slowed to a stop, turning his attention to a grand structure nestled here in the canopy of the Misty Peaks. It looked to be made of gleaming marble, catching the sunlight well here at the highest point in the city. Laszlo nodded toward the statue of a woman in at the center of its lushly decorated garden. Her arms were held toward the sky.

"That's Tanroa." If he were more familiar with Fia, he might have touched her shoulder to summon her attention. Respecting the polite distance between them, Laszlo expected his voice and presence to be enough. "I should come to the Temple of Time more often, but lately she and I have had a trying relationship. If you can call it that."

Distracted, Laszlo turned in the spot to briefly glance at the Observatory, which still lied ahead. Making an inward note, he returned the moment. "If you stand here and squint, it looks like she's holding the sun."
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Fia Eaven on November 2nd, 2012, 10:41 pm


A child's bird. She found a new dearness in the sound as she imagined a girl singing "Laszlo" to a trembling mound of feathers. It was not the lofty source she imagined.
"I like to think there's always someone waiting," she supplied quietly, "Whether we know it or not." She nodded once, "It's a good name."

Fia squinted on cue floating to her toes for the proper illusion to be cast. Tanroa's patient fingertips let the sun gradually roll into her palm. The statue's expression was painted half white by the glare. What remained was both sympathetic and withdrawn.
"'Tis true! How clever! Not that I didn't believe you." Laszlo's admittance to a trying relationship was met with confusion. Fia cast a questioning look over her shoulder at the Ethaefal. "Trying? You'll never change –" Comprehension suddenly crested drowning her initial ideas of agelessness. Tanroa and her appointed lights made Laszlo bend a knee everyday. But for his past life's shape, it wouldn't feel like obeisance. "She has a lovely face," she said, moving the conversation to kinder things. "Think Tanroa approves of the likeness?"

Fia's path across the peak was an organic tangle in place of a line. She saw the Observatory, but did not rush toward it. She was adopting the Ethaefal's pace, but for differing reasons. The sooner she arrived, the nearer they were to the view. And when their eyes were full, the outing would be done. He would drift home and she would slip into the Inn, drawn of the spirit to acquire new company. There would be no distraction, and her white hands would have nothing else to barter for company. Her brazen visits required a slip of pretenses. She mocked herself: Might I just sit here, like on a green knoll away from the rest, Laszlo? And trouble your peace with a heart changing from the dead?

"I wouldn't imagine you as a courier," she mused aloud, "But even hermit scholars need to buy quills and canary colored scarfs." It was the breadth of her conversation before they reached the dark doors of the Observatory. Fia arched backward to let her eyes reach the building's highest dome. "I wonder what it's like in evening. Have you ever been? Probably should have asked before."

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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Laszlo on November 3rd, 2012, 2:47 am

Laszlo's attention moved from Tanroa's likeness to Fia as he considered her question. It took him a moment to realize she was not deadly serious, but he had been caught in his thoughts again. If he were anything but an Ethaefal, his listlessness might have seemed rude. "I wouldn't have any complaints if someone made a statue of me." There was lightness to his tone, more than just the humor. He was enjoying himself. "As long as they got the nose right. I might be cross otherwise."

He turned back to the temple and studied the stone woman a little while longer. The hints of mirth drained from his face and became replaced by something quiet and unreadable. The Goddess of Time stood rigid, absorbing the Ethaefal's scrutiny. She had appeared in many of the poems and ballads in the library's collection, her influence powerful enough to be felt by every poet who ever held a quill. The poignancy of words floated back to him while his eyes fixed on Tanroa's timeless face.

Laszlo's bitterness with the gods was slowly fading as he gradually learned to accept that he had only himself to blame for Abalia's death. There was still no peace in himself, but he sensed it would eventually come. Tanroa would deliver it when he was ready.

Again, Fia's voice pulled him back into the world. Laszlo turned his head and made a face. "Alright, you must stop calling me that or I'll start believing it." He moved onward, rejoining the fiery haired human as they continued to ascend to Lhavit's highest point.

When the last of the road had finally been passed underfoot, Laszlo did not hesitate in opening one of the large, heavy doors into the observatory. He held it there, allowing Fia to pass. "Twice, yes, but never in the daylight hours." Iraltu's Observatory brought the both of them inside, shielding them from Kalea's high winds and the white glare of a cloud-filled sky. The lower level of the building was open and round, lines with bookshelves spilling over with journals of astronomy and depictions of the constellations. Several elegant desks were set along the sides, cluttered with recent research and long scrawls of mathematics. Two of the three Lhavitian astronomers present were meeting at one desk, while the other appeared to be trying his best to ignore them.

The door shut behind Laszlo and Fia, canceling out much of the outdoor ambience. Three heads bobbed up, then fell back down.

Suddenly, Laszlo thought of Seven Xu. Apart from being a Dra, he was also a Lhavitian astronomer—if only a novice. Perhaps he had worked in this place once? Or studied for long hours? Or perhaps the human astronomers had kept the likes of him out of this place. Previously, Abalia had staunchly vouched for Laszlo's Symenestra form to gain their welcome.

Coming up alongside Fia, he gently placed his hand on her arm as a gesture to keep her from feeling lost in a place so grand, usually meant for the literate and educated. Gaining her attention, he indicated the staircase to the side with a cant of his head. "No one is allowed upstairs without supervision. Let me talk to one of these men."

Laszlo broke away from her then, withdrawing his hand back into his cloak as he approached the lone astronomer.
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Fia Eaven on November 4th, 2012, 9:10 am

Fia stepped gently into the observatory, reverent as a penitent coming to temple. Her eyes roved over maps of stars and volumes robbed of their gilt by years of handling. She had forgotten the observatory wasn't simply a high ladder for her to find a view from. Quietly zealous men tried to read the heavens and follow the tread of Zintila. They seemed more intent than bold, hunched at their desks, but Fia could think of nothing more ambitious than charting the innumerable.
Laszlo's instincts as to her state of mind were correct. Shrines to learning made Fia timid with a combination of wonder and inadequacy. Since her mind did not drift to critical places, she failed to realize the men at the desks would be just as puzzled if taken to her place of employment.
The Ethaefal's light, guiding touch surprised Fia, but she became amenable to his direction. Suddenly shy, she only nodded as Laszlo offered to talk with one of the daunting astronomers. Despite the outing being her idea, he was being good enough to see it come to fruition.
As Laszlo spoke to the astronomer, Fia waited in the center of the room with her feet together. She seemed a momentarily content child waiting for instruction, her hands clasped in front of her.

He had been here in the evening to consider the stars. She tried to imagine the gray figure at peace in the darkness, his head tilted into moonlight, and kindle this docile picture with the Ethaefal who stopped to show her where the sunlight struck a garden just so. It was a kinder pairing then she had managed thus far in her secret attempts to bend her thoughts toward courage.
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A Lonely Impulse of Delight

Postby Laszlo on November 4th, 2012, 7:22 pm

After spending a moment of quiet discussion at the side of the room, Laszlo bowed his head and muttered an audible thank-you. The astronomer began gathering his research into a papery, portable bundle, while Laszlo returned to Fia's side. The usually lively Denvali had grown quiet. As he approached, he considered Fia's demeanor and tried to read what she wasn't saying.

"After you," he told her gently, giving an encouraging smile and sweeping one and toward the stairs. Laszlo then indicated the astronomer, who had finally stood up from his desk. He looked grateful for the reason to separate himself from the other two, who hadn't stopped their hushed conversing. "He'll be right behind us."

The spiraling staircase led into the second level of the Observatory, which revealed itself to be a smaller version of the circular floor below. The floor was adorned with a large, mathematical-looking mural in the shape of a quarter-circle, resembling the design of a sextant. Much brighter than the room below, Syna's radiance poured in from an enormous glassless window, granting a perfect view of the stars, if there were any.

Sprawling all around them instead were the mists of high Kalea, crested with snowy mountain peaks and rolling evergreen forests, a static sea of shadowy green dotted with red and yellow where deciduous trees stubbornly decided to grow. Lhavit laid out in one direction like an enormous, glimmering spider, with the largest peak, the Zintia, held in place by four iridescent bridges. The size of the city could be fully appreciated from here, with the farthest Sharai Peak obscured by a fine airy haze.

Laszlo drifted toward the city and rested his hands on the railing, which protected him from a considerable fall back to the ground. He curiously considered the distance to the ground, thinking of the deep, lightless chasm of Kalinor. On the other side of the Observatory, the bottom of the fall was covered in a thick, heavy fog.

In his dayside form, Laszlo was less immune to apprehension toward heights.

"Look at that, Fia." The wind tugged at Laszlo's auburn hair, traced with tufts of a deeper brown. Tresses were pulled from his hair tie and were free to dance around his face. Like the city, his skin glittered in the sun, although by now it had receded behind a white veil of clouds. "Over there I think is the Shinyama, and the Tenten on the other side. This was a good idea you had."

The astronomer, more focused on his own work, settled somewhere nearby. He only spared the shortest look at the view and returned to his writing.

Off into the distance, probably somewhere over the ocean, the clouds became much darker and ominous, and it looked as though someone were smearing them down toward the earth. "I think that might be rain. I wonder how far away it is."
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