Completed The bane of my existence (Aoren)

[Caesarion]

75th of Spring, 513 AV

"I'm home!" Only a little after the crack of dawn, Lheesi would hear this in her ears. Caesar ran through the door, and threw off his shoes. His eyes were gleaming with excitement, and he stood taller and more proudly than he often did. It felt like the sun had touched his skin, as his smile and expressions afterward were very bright. It was a different person. "Uh... okay," was the simple response of the young woman. She didn't really know what had gotten into him, only that her fears were relieved. He was fine. No slavers came to abduct him in the night, and no thug's blade made its way into his heart. The rest of the day would be easy, now.

He was still thinking about his sleep, and his five senses when he awoke. He caught Aoren's eyes, and felt his body being eclipsed by his strong and masculine other. It was very hot underground, and he was sure he could recall waking up to the smell of sweat. A scent that wasn't strong enough to ruin or deter the perfect moment. After a romantic departing full of smooching and whatnot, Caesar strode home and never lost his momentum. He was excited to tell Lheesi about it all. Ironically, he was also looking forward to a few quiet hours alone. After all of that constant checking of himself to make sure he wasn't being undesirable, a feeling of solitude would be great. First, though, he had to spill the beans.

"Lheesi, I have a boyfriend!" She stared quietly at first, then smiled a little. That was still a little impressive, though -- you couldn't get her to smile, usually, without talking about Rhaenon. The eternal apple of her eye, or whatever. "Congratulations," she clapped her hands. Then, she returned to her duty. The Ravokii rolled his eyes, and silently complained about the whole encounter. "Well, that wasn't nearly as glorious as I thought it'd be..." Whatever. Nothing could ruin this day for him. Except for either getting dumped, stabbed or taken back to Ravok. All three of them meant that he wouldn't really have anything to be excited for, anymore. And that would've been... very hard on him. This was probably the only thing he ever had to look forward to.

He spent the hours hunting in silence. He didn't take a break like he often did, and spent more time killing than exploring and chattering with other random hunters that may have not liked him, but at least liked to pretend to. Today, he just hunted to be efficient. The faster he finished his part of the job, the more time he'd have to get ready. And getting ready wasn't just putting on his nicer clothes or taking a nice bath. He also had to find out where the hell this stormhold salves place even was. It'd be creepy to just wait for Aoren back at his house.

When he had done enough work, he rushed to take a quick bath to cleanse him of the sweat. Similarly, he returned home whenever that was done, dressing himself with... well, the only pair of clothes he actually had. Fortunately, he was smart enough to wash it this morning, or he wouldn't be anything to smile at. His pants, especially, returned from the cuddly, sweaty, romantic night smelling like a gorilla, or a wet dog. He wasn't sure how either of those smelled like, but it was probably accurate enough. After saying his goodbyes for the day or... days, to Lheesi, and possibly an implied goodbye to the other two, he dashed out the front door and immediately got down to business.

It was nothing more than asking for directions, over and over. He stuck to asking old people, because they were usually the ones that had problems only this craft could deal with. Especially the old men. Most of them didn't tell him anything informative, they just went on and on and on... but eventually, he was sent in the right direction. A certain district where the shop was likely to be.

Fortunately enough, the directions were correct. He feared that he might've been too late, but after all of this, he wasn't going to go marching back home. Simply and daringly, he stepped into the store, and looked around for a few momentary seconds. He walked around, observing the ingredients, reading about nearly all of the supplements and their explanations. Well, he probably skipped over a few, but no matter. With a charming smile, at least maybe hopefully charming, he began to ask his extremely... non-charming question. "Hey, lady. You got an assistant here?"

[Aoren]

Aoren was just finishing up cleaning the stock room of the shop when he heard a rather familiar voice address Mistress Sahfri Blackleaf in a crude manner. The man sighed inwardly. He was beginning to wonder if he had ever met somebody who was so uncouth. Aoren shook his head and stood up from where he'd been kneeling adjusting a sack of supplies. He wiped his brow as he'd worked up a bit of a sweat hefting sacks, organizing shelves, lifting barrels and shifting tools all day. The supply room had been a mess and though he'd been loathe to do it there was no point in putting it off any further. Besides, that's what Mistress Blackleaf paid him to do. Tend the shop and assist her. He twisted his torso to the right and then to the left in an attempt to stretch the slightly sore muscles there before exiting the room and walking to the front of the shop.

"Excuse him, Mistress Blackleaf. He is new to the city and has not yet been educated on our customs of common courtesy." The last part he said a little pointedly as he gave Caesarion a very stern look. His eyes however danced with slight amusement. Caesar's brazen attitude appealed to Aoren. Perhaps that was because Aoren himself was such a quiet man who internalized the vast majority of his emotions. The Ravokian seemed to speak whatever happened to be on his mind the moment the thought crossed his consciousness. A part of Aoren knew that such a quality could get the other man into trouble but the other part of him didn't want Caesar to stay quiet at all. Sahfri Blackleaf excused herself with a polite nod and went to tend to other more pressing matters elsewhere in the shop. Aoren turned to his outspoken companion and shook his head with a fond smile.

"Is that how you speak to people regularly?" He chuckled and stepped forward just close enough so that it didn't feel as if they were speaking at a distance. Aoren wasn't quite sure whether or not he should embrace Caesar, try to kiss him or just keep his distance. He remembered the man's feelings about affection in public and while Aoren was fine with that he was just curious about where the man stood at the moment.

"You actually caught me as I was finishing up for the day. I just need to tidy up a few more things and then I'm free to leave." Aoren didn't wait for the situation to grow awkward with him just standing there so he turned he grabbed a cloth to begin polishing the counter of the shop. It was already finely kept so it wouldn't take him long. That was the last task of the day he needed to complete before Mistress Blackleaf said he was dismissed for the day. He glanced up at Caesar.

"How was your day?"

[Caesarion]

The moment was kind of awkward. She didn't really respond to him, instead the silence slowly filled him with a feeling of dread, like a giant worm was going to reach into his soul from her mouth and devour him. Or something like that. He always had a fear for women like these in particular. He always wondered if their herbal or magical curiosity extended into the darker arts. "Yes. Excuse me, Mistress Blackleaf. These teachings are often lost on me." He didn't want Aoren to have to 'excuse' him in front of other people. Caesar wasn't totally blind to courtesy. He just liked to speak and act with little regard. It was a part of the way he perceived himself.

Aoren, on the other hand, was quite different. He must've thought a lot on what to say, or it just came naturally to him. Caesar knew that he was going to have to make adjustments, otherwise one of them would probably get fed up with either being excused or having to constantly salvage situations. Wait, why was his mind already getting so negative? He took a deep breath, and let it out. A small relief. "It is." He lowered his voice for a moment, to assure that only Aoren heard the continuation of that sentence. "I'm used to talking to slaves, in Ravok. You don't speak politely to them. You speak to them like they're not worth anything." He preferred to be casual, anyway. There was little he cared to hide. All of those fancy "highborn" in Ravok, and many of the people here, used manners and pleasantries to hide their real opinions.

And sometimes, hide how bloodthirsty they were. The Ravokii probably missed the opportunity when Aoren moved closer, because he was occupied with rambling about slaves. Still, as a show of good faith, he moved forward to embrace his companion, brushing their lips together. "Let's not talk about these ill-mentioned things." He stepped away so that Aoren could finish his work; too much time spent here wouldn't be good for him. He hated the feeling of prying eyes.

Making do with leaning back against an empty spot of the wall, the man promptly answered the given question. Although, his answer wasn't going to be brief. "Crazy busy. Right after dashing home, I ate, went straight out to work, came back, changed clothes, looked for directions forever, ran all the way up here..." And then he rambled some more. While he was sure Aoren was fascinated with the minute details of his life, he quickly changed the subject. "Yesterday, you told me you'd teach me some of that special R stuff. Does the offer still stand?" To him, it was imperative that he learned as much as he could, as soon as he could. Even Caesar had his own agendas, despite how apparently content he was with this boring life. Magic was another step up that ladder.

Of course... that wasn't why he was here. "Uh..." He shook his head for a moment, and broke a forced smile. "Or if you don't want to, we could just be all lovey dovey together?" There wasn't much enthusiasm in his voice. But from his face, you could tell that the idea made him equally content.

[Aoren]

Aoren wrapped his arms around Caesarion's body and hugged him tightly in that brief embrace. He let him go just as soon as he backed away but there was a half-smile on Aoren's lips after the exchange. He leaned forward and gently nudged Caesar's forehead with his own, his most basic and yet moist poignant display of affection.

"Well we're not in Ravok, Caesar and there are no slaves here." Truly there weren't. No man or woman was subject to slavery within the walls of the Fortress City of Peace. The Knights of Sylir would not tolerate it and they dealt harshly with anyone they came across believed to be involved in that black underground world. Aoren was repulsed by the idea of slavery. He could not imaging putting any man in chains and forcing him to serve out the rest of his days as less than human. The concept was difficult for the Drykas to wrap his head around. He simply couldn't understand why anyone would do such a thing when there were people always willing to work the jobs the world needed if you but provided some compensation in return. Then again, he supposed labor that was at little to no cost to you could have an appeal. All the same, he believed it a vile thing.

He continued on with his daily work, polishing, tidying, sweeping, and cleaning up the areas of the shop that needed to be tended to. He nodded his head abiding by Caesarion's wish to let the subject drop. Putting away the cloth he'd been working with he inclined his head toward the back part of the store where the workshop was located indicating the Ravokian should follow him. After that he made his way to the back where rested Mistress Blackleaf's laboratory. The room was filled with utensils designed to assist in the age old craft of Philtering for medicinal purposes.

He listened to Caesar go on about his day. There was a half-smile on Aoren's lips as he found the ease with which the Ravokian was so easily amused or irritated to be refreshing. When he brought up the subject of magic though, Aoren paused. He looked up from what he was doing, polishing a decanter, and stared Caesarion straight in the eyes. There was a furrow to his brow and a deeply concerned look in his cobalt gaze. When he spoke it was softly.

"Yes. It does." He looked Caesarion up and down before shaking his head. "I also said that I would make sure you were absolutely ready to endure such a thing and I do not think you are." To tell the truth Aoren was more partial to just spending time with Caesarion. He had no desire to inflict pain on the other man. Not like that. But if Caesar wanted to learn magic then Aoren would teach him. There were a few things that needed to be done first.

"We're going to have to help you get stronger first. We're going to have to work on your reflexes and most importantly..." He reached out and gently ruffled Caesarion's hair with a smirk then cupped his face in a gentle gesture. He ran his thumb along the ridge of the Ravokian's cheekbone. "...we're going to have to discipline your mind. Magic, in any form, is an art. It takes concentration and should seldom be used without absolute control over the forces you're manipulating." He dropped his hand and set the decanter down with a sigh.

"Are you certain that you still want to learn it?"

[Caesarion]

Ha. He could already tell the idea of slavery repulsed Aoren. Just from the way he spoke of it, and the look on his face. He was definitely not going to want to come to Ravok, then, if Caesar ever visited. Aoren was far too good of a guy to watch as slaves worked themselves to the brink of death so that their masters could sit lazily around and spread their hate. The Drykas must've already figured by now that Caesar was one of these people. He wasn't afraid of what that meant to him, though -- they already had a long talk before about how the situation you were born into wasn't what made you as a person. It was a very relieving talk. A relieving thought. However, it didn't mean that Caesar would stop longing to return to a life where he'd hold the chains.

The Ravokii watched in silence as his companion continued the very dull tasks set before him. He didn't know how anyone could do this all week and not jump off the highest tower in Mizahar. Caesar's job was actually very enjoyable, if you were as macabre as him.

At the Drykas's indication, Caesarion followed him eagerly. The whole place seemed kind of strange, but he had no real opinion of it. This was Aoren's work. Whether it was boring or strange or not, it was honest, and a diligent man like him was probably content with it. Of course, he stopped mentally praising the man as much, once he told him that Caesar wasn't 'ready' to endure the initiation. He felt ready, or at least his ego did. He was still a bit frightened by the idea of magic, but that didn't mean... "What do you have in mind, in particular?" Like always, he shoved aside his real opinion. He wanted to tell Aoren that his mind was disciplined. That he was strong, with fast reflexes, and...

He just didn't want to feel like he was too incapable to get what he wanted. That before even obtaining something so simple, he had to improve what must've been his useless self. "Reflexes, discipline, and strength... is that it? I hope that I'm not missing anything else, although I wouldn't be surprised. It's hard to be so imperfect, post-cataclysm." He was trying to be witty, but it must've looked like he was giving off attitude. Maybe he was. He knew fifteen year olds back in Ravok who had learned Reimancy. What did they have that he didn't? "...Um, so, what should we focus on first?" He had been a bit too anxious today. Maybe all he needed was a calmer environment. This place made him feel strange. "And yes, I'm willing to learn. In fact, I'm unwilling to just let the idea go without at least failing a few times. I'm not a quitter." Or at least he didn't want to be.

[Aoren]

Aoren nodded. He'd known that Caesar would want to pursue it even if there was a strong risk of death or injury. There was a spark of defiance within the Ravokian. That much was obvious to Aoren already. Aoren fixed Caesarion with a cool stare. There was a slightly distant look to his gaze. It was as if he were staring both at Caesar and somehow beyond him. Aoren's face went blank for a moment, his body stilled and his breathing evened out. He stayed that way for what seemed like a few minutes before he blinked and nodded.

"Truthfully we can kill two birds with one stone so to speak. We will start with strengthening your body. It's not that you aren't strong enough as it is it's just that I am certainly no master of..." Aoren glanced up as Mistress Blackleaf passed by the room. She gave them a cordial nod before continuing on her way. "...of reimancy. I don't want to risk hurting you if you're not up for it. I learned it young but the woman who taught me was a lot more powerful than I am now." He could remember his teacher very clearly. He recalled her lessons. Her sheer power. She had seemed like a goddess to him back then but it was a silly thought now. It was only after a great deal of time and practice that Aoren realized he was capable of accomplishing the same things.

"Go wait outside and we can head for my usual practice spot in a few minutes. I just need to let Mistress Blackleaf know that I am finished with the tasks I've been given and we can leave." He leaned forward and placed a hand on Caesarion's shoulder. He squeezed it gently.

"There's a lot you're going to have to learn and re-learn when it comes to magic. It changes how you interact with the world." The truth of that statement hadn't hit Aoren until he'd been studying his craft for several years. With magic, whatever its form, you posed a question to the forces of the world both inside of ones own body and outside of it.

And the world answered. One way or another.

Aoren took a deep breath and quickly let it out as he pondered how he was going to teach his eager companion. It wasn't that he didn't trust that Caesarion was capable of learning. It was that Aoren doubted whether he could convey the full scope of exactly what it is that he was going to be teaching him.

[Caesarion]

He was very happy that Aoren was going to take the time to tutor him. The farce wouldn't be fun for that long, though. He made a deal with himself to tell Aoren of his elaborate joke whenever they got back to his house. If they got back to his house. "Alright, Ren," he conveniently pulled a nickname, "I'll wait for you outside. And -- you don't have to worry about offending me. I know I'm not that strong. It's a side-effect of lazily sitting in my room for half my life, after all." Before he left the store, he brushed up against Aoren's upper body, and followed into nuzzling their noses together. "Try not to keep me waiting too long, alright?" As he walked away, he held his arms behind his back, humming some random tune. He was thinking of what would be fun to do, after Aoren was free of his duties. You could see on his face that he was giddy, and in his body language that he was nervous.

Life had become a giant mixture of the two extremes, ever since he first encountered his companion in that steaming tub. Finally, as he exited the door, he was met with a glimpse of the sunset, although he couldn't really see the entire thing from his position. It had gotten late already, and that meant that he only got to spend a fraction of his day with Aoren. He wanted to extend their time together, some way. Even the one day they had "off", he had to spend at least half of it selling all of his crap. There was never any break, here. And if they didn't grow attached enough, Aoren might have not even cared to take Caesar with him, whenever he went to Zeltiva. And when they went to Zeltiva...

Wow, was he really worrying that much? He supposed he was just a little silly, because this was his very first relationship. He had always dreamed of this as a teenager, and now that it was here, he just...

Waiting out here, for just these few minutes, became a bitter agony for him. He felt restless, excited, and eager to spend his time with Aoren. Every minute gone was a minute wasted. "Hurry up, fatty," he muttered under his breath. He had become fond of that word, and using it when it didn't even apply. Rhaenon and Aoren were both hulking men of... manliness, so they got the title. Speaking of Rhaenon... "Caesarion, there are men waiting for you at home. They want to discuss the issue with Ravok." It was Lheesi. How, again, did she manage to get here? After staring stupidly for a few moments, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, "Lheesi, I told you not to speak to me in public. People might think things. Y'know, things that aren't true, about us." Lheesi had a brand on her. A very visible one, on her ear. It was obvious to some that she used to be a slave, and just as a precaution... he didn't want to be associated with an ex-slave. People might think... well, that he had a hand in her slavery in the first place.

And of course, he did, but that was behind him. "That doesn't change the facts, master." With more awful staring, and an obligatory double take, he scolded her again. "Don't call me master! That's a definite way to give people the wrong impression. And who are these people? Why did my brother send them?" This was just wonderful. He was really hoping that Aoren didn't step out right now, because if he did, he'd see a very unpleasant side of Caesar. "They refused to speak to someone with a brand. They said they'd only converse with you. After all, the business concerns you anyway, not me." What that meant was obvious. They didn't want to reveal that they were there for something that Caesar wouldn't like, and wanted to trap him into returning home. All this meant was that he wouldn't go home. Not until they were gone. "Lheesi, go dominatrix on them or something to distract them for the night. If you need to, just sprinkle some of the orange powder under my bed onto them, and the hounds will take care of the rest. I'm not going home until they leave. Can you come find me when they leave?" She nodded her head, but then posed a question anyway.

"How will I know where you are? Do I assume to just meet you here?" It was actually a pretty logical question... logic was something he always missed, when he was under a bit of panic. This was such a pain in the arse. "Just... ugh. Meet me here, same time tomorrow, now scurry off." Well, that was a little rushed, but it gave her the idea. He didn't want Aoren to find him talking to some slave girl outside of the shop. Too many complications. All he wanted was a day of peace. The man poked his head into the shop, and called on his man. "You done yet? Your chances of ever going down on me are decreasing by the second."

[Aoren]

Aoren finished cleaning up the workshop where all the potions and ointments that the shop produced its goods. He then found Mistress Blackleaf in her more private quarter of the building. He gave her a slight bow and upon relaying the completion of his work she nodded and dismissed him for the day. With that, Aoren went to the front of the shop. He spotted Caesar leaning against the edge of the building. The Drykas man smiled at the image displayed there.

The Ravokian man was leaning against a wall. His profile was elegantly shadowed by the rays of sunset highlighting his olive skin. Seeing Caesarion like that made Aoren's breath catch. It was then that Caesar was approached by a woman. Aoren arched an eyebrow but he did not interrupt as it seemed he knew her. The more he spoke with her it also seemed he grow agitated. Aoren did not like seeing Caesar agitated but he was curious to see the kind of people the Ravokian interacted with. She was timid it seemed or rather it seemed she was largely disinterested in the whole of her surroundings. By her posture it was obvious that she deferred to Caesar in some way. After a moment he moved away from the window and went to retrieve his quarterstaff. He grasped it and made his way to the back entrance of the shop exiting quietly. Aoren walked to the front just as Caesar stuck his head back inside the shop to call for him. The Drykas smiled and cleared his throat.

"Well then we had best be on our way." He planted the staff and leaned against it with a mischievous smirk knowing he would have caught the other man by surprise. Aoren nodded to Caesar once he got his attention. "Who were you talking to?" It was an innocent question but it was also a small test to see how much Caesar trusted Aoren. Would the Ravokian be truthful? Or would he lie? There was a clear but steady question in Aoren's cobalt eyes as he studied the Ravokian. While finding the truth could have been as simple as concentrating Aoren didn't believe that would be an effective way to build trust in an early relationship.

[Caesarion]

He smiled happily to his companion, when he spoke of "getting on their way". The Ravokii was eager to leave this place. Too public. Unfortunately, it was public enough for Aoren to manage a glimpse of the whole affair. Honestly, though, he didn't really care if he knew. If he couldn't tell the only person he actually had feelings for about his personal problems, then he'd soon get very tired of holding all of this in. "When I lived in Ravok, there was always a woman who would torment me by trying to fill my life with scandal. After one scandal too many, my brother got angry with her, and took the initiative to burn down her estate, with her inside. Her son also died, out in a field somewhere. I'm not sure who killed him, but --" The man sighed, "I know that I had motive to kill him, and his mother. This was almost six years ago, but Rhaenon reminds me every year that I can be held accountable with a flick of his wrists. He's a real pain in the arse like that." He didn't really answer the question of who Lheesi was, but that was only because he wanted to give the Drykas a bigger picture.

Which, of course, could only take the form of a ridiculously long profiling of his brother. He'd... try to sum it up. "In my brother's mind, we're the greatest enemies, and I'm out to get him, and I dream of shitting on his corpse in the night." It all sounded very sarcastic from his own mouth, but he was actually pretty positive that Rhaenon really did think like that. "I don't know what could happen to me if I go back home. I might get locked up, or killed, or..." He really didn't understand how a relationship could devolve so much. He and his brother used to be the best of friends. Rhaenon was always so nice, before he... well, hit puberty. Maybe he traded his sex drive for a kill drive or something like that. He just couldn't leave the matter alone. Which, of course, was a pain, because Caesar would only ever be content once it was put to rest. "Maybe he just wants me there to dominate my life. Rhaenon likes to be in control of everything. A few years back, I was like his pet. Can't expect a man to give away his prize pig." Captivity could only last so long, though, before something went wrong.

Caesar wasn't the type to bend forever. He wanted his own individuality. Not his brother's idea of solidarity. Anyway, he decided he had been whining too long about his mean brother. He began to walk forward, crossing his arms, and glancing back at Aoren every so often. "When I left Ravok, I took those three with me. Lheesi was permitted to leave because her girlish obsession with Rhaenon had started to annoy him. The others just weren't that useful... or coherent. The one you saw just then was Lheesi. Just another member of my merry band of misfits." They weren't too merry, though. Lheesi didn't really like the others. The others didn't like Caesarion. And he didn't like any of them. But it was the best he could do to try and be a good person; to strike of their chains. "Without trust, there's no such thing as 'love' or whatever that fancy thing is. I trust you to not get angry with me, no matter what I tell you about the old me." He wasn't sure if he wanted to say this, but now that he started, and now that it was obvious, there wasn't really a good excuse for lying.

He realized that he suddenly felt very truthful. He just... wanted to spill everything to Aoren, for some reason. It felt like he was finally getting out years of repressed thoughts, and locking them inside of the mind of someone who might understand. "I used to own them. That's the family business, y'know? We don't raise cattle or craft swords. We sell life for gold." He was pretty positive that all of the Ravokii stereotypes would slowly come true in Aoren's mind, the longer he was around this man. He'd see that they were vulgar, crude, cruel. Maybe he'd also discover that amongst them, there was a man he could come to adore. But that was just a little hope of his. After a while of walking, he turned back, and laughed a little. "I'm sorry, that must've all been terribly depressing. And to think -- in my final hours before getting mutilated in the name of Reimancy, I've decided to moan on like a little waif. But, there it is. I'm no longer mysterious or exotic; I've spilled out the secrets. Any questions?" Hopefully not. He would've liked to put this whole awkward moment behind him, and move on to something better.

OOCsorry for the boring post ><

[Aoren]

Aoren followed behind Caesarion while he listened to the other man's story. The tale of how the feud between his brother and him had followed him even to the walls of Syliras. The concept of such deep seated resentment between brother was foreign to him but he supposed that everything had a reason behind it. The reason for which was quickly followed by Caesarion's admission that his family was deeply involved in the slave trade. Aoren's brow furrowed slightly at this but it was beyond him to judge Caesar for such actions. The Drykas male had no reason to judge anyone. He was no enforcer of laws nor was he the righteous champion of a god who opposed such things. To his knowledge the only deity that he truly served had no real stance on the subject though she was inherently a peaceful goddess she was largely neutral in the grander scheme of things.

"I suppose we all fear what one day may replace us that is until we learn to understand what it is that is the object of our fear." He shrugged his shoulders. "Did you ever think that your brother causes you so much pain because he's afraid that one day you'll outshine or surpass him?" A fact that, at least to Aoren, was already happening given that Caesar had chosen to abandon that life and in the process saved three others. He could see that when Caesar spoke of the former slaves that he did so with a great deal of distaste. There was no fondness in his eyes. No ease of his expressions.

"You may not like the people who have been made a part of your life right now Caesar but the fact that you saved them, even if you didn't mean to, shows that you are already twice the man your brother is." Aoren stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Caesar's shoulders pulling him a little closer. He hugged the Ravokian tightly but without squeezing the life out of him. "I think that makes you a much brighter person." He released Caesarion from his hold and continued to walk with him.

"You don't need to be afraid of judgment from me. I'm no enforcer and I've seen too much to pass judgment on a man's character if he's brought no harm to me. You sound as if all you want to do is escape everything that you left behind. The more I talk to you, the more that seems clear as day." He flipped his staff so that the tip of it was resting over his shoulder. He tucked a hand in his pocket and observed their surroundings. They were still within the city but Aoren was considering something. "I'd like to see where you live, Caesar. Before we head out into the wilderness actually." He nodded firmly. The way he spoke it would seem he would broker no room for argument oblivious to the fact that there were two Ravokians waiting for Caesarion at his home.

"Besides, I forgot my pack back in my living quarters and we need to take a few things along with us. We're going to be a while and it will definitely be dark by the time we start heading back to the city. If we come back at all. You said you are a hunter, yes?" He nodded answering his own question. "Well since I'll be teaching you what I know, you could teach me what you know?"