Completed They say the apple doesn't fall so far...

[Novus]

“I’m afraid you have heard it the wrong way around,” Novus said, without ire, fixing Brother with a nonchallenging, but steady, frank gaze. “It’s not the male that bears the risk in the mating, it’s the female. And tis not the mate but the fruit of that mating that is the killer.” With his elbows on the table, one forearm draped over the other, he leaned forward a bit with lowered voice. “I’ll tell you true, for Ninus says he has no secrets from you, his brother, and so neither shall I, though half my ancestry might curse me for saying out loud what is widely known, but which they would prefer to be otherwise. A child produced from the seed of a male of my mother’s race is deadly even before birth. During those moments, it begins to poison its dam, from the inside out, so to speak. By the time it is born, the mother is as good as dead, whether she be Symenestra or human or of any other race, save the white fish women of Mura. A child so born, though, is guaranteed a treasured spot in their sire’s home, family and heart. Whereas those like me, born to fathers not of that race, are not so rewarded for not being the harbinger’s of death that our cousins are. My father left Kalinor hale and hearty, and left my mother to her shame, and mine, when I came into the world those few months after.” Throughout this impromptu lesson on Symenestra reproduction, Novus’ tone was even, and bore no especial trace of bitterness, even up to this last bit. “He took what she willingly gave, and went on his way, all unknowing, or so my mother claims, though I think she might say as much to protect her own heart as to protect his so called honor. For all I know, the man has no inkling that he has a half-spider for a son. I might have any number of bastard half-brothers littered across the length and breadth of Mizahar. Who knows?” He was smiling, but there was a grim set to his lips, and his eyes flashed like hard chips of obsidian. “But do not fear, Brother. I’ll not willingly give up a drop of my venom, to any other than him.” Here Novus nodded at Ninus, sat beside him, and even went so far as to lay his black nailed hand over the one holding the fork still, squeezing it gently and with a fond look to the poisoner. It seemed they were brothers too, of a sort, joined in not only desire but in the commonality of knowledge and need for the substance that dripped from his fangs. “Be it noble or nasty, to me it is merely necessary and normal, and I’ll warrant Ninus would never use it to any detriment to you and your other companions.” His smile warmed as he looked at Ninus, his eyes softening to ask that no insult should be assumed on his account. He’d not want to be the cause of any rift between these two. Within a very short while, all three were done with consuming whatever viands they had chosen, and were rising from the table. Making their way outside into the steamy heat of a summer morning, the thin clouds above holding in the humidity, they passed into the street that lead to the main gate of the city. Briefly, Novus entwined his fingers in Ninus’, as Brother preceded them, and he leaned to breathe against his ear, “Never worry about me, sweet friend. I’ve suffered a lifetime of taunts for my pedigree – or lack thereof. I find it amusing that out here, those who held such a lofty opinion of themselves are even more reviled than I am. With that knowledge, and you by my side, I am content, and any such words, no matter how they are meant, roll right off like water from a beetle’s back.” He placed a kiss right below that ear, and laughed merrily.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus smiled gently and tightened his grasp on Novus' fingers as they walked through the city. He followed Brother, knowing they were about to head out of the city and into the Bronze woods. He enjoyed the kiss below his ear, leaning slightly into it with a tilt of his head. "Steel yourself, we go into a place no man goes alone. A forest I grew in, but that holds fear for so many. Beasts and men are the worst of the forest, and I know only the second." Ninus said quietly, kissing Novus' cheek. "Be still, be quick, keep silence and know your worst enemy wields not fang, or claw, nor sword nor bow...but a loud step." He told Novus quietly. They exited the city, Brother walking easily out into the courtyard with Ninus following. Then came the gates...and with a few short yards they were off a dirt road and into the forest. Brother was silent the entire way, and now Ninus fell the same way. He had his hand tightly clasped in Novus'. They would be safe in the camp, but until then they had to be quiet and alert. Nasty things could catch one unaware in the Bronze Forest. Brother, for being such a large human being, was a strangely quiet creature. Ninus' light footsteps caused nary a sound, but to see such large feet land on the forest floor with only a few twigs snapped was a sign of skill. Ninus lifted Novus' hand in his and kissed the back of it. He needed strength if he was going to face his father again. He loved the man dearly, but he had departed at the end of a fit of madness. His mother would be disappointed as well, not in what he had become but that his madness had not all departed and that he would not be staying. It took the greater part of an hour in silence before Brother pushed aside a thick blackberry branch and gestured for Ninus to enter a tiny clearing. There were ten tents scattered at the bases of trees, and the small, six foot by six foot clearing in the center was reserved for a crackling cooking fire. There were a good fifteen men scattered about the camp in various stages of work; one was splitting firewood, another was dressing a deer, a few others were boiling stream water to make it safe to drink, still others were fletching, sharpening, or repairing leather armor. Brother put his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply, gaining the attention of the boilers, sharpeners and darners. "Hey, I know not all of you remember the kid we pulled out of a tree, but our boy's home." he stepped aside and thrust Ninus and Novus forward with ham-sized hands. Dead silence reigned in the glade. Ninus saw one or two men snort in derison and turn back to their tasks. A few others smiled welcomingly, but it wasn't until he saw a long-haired figure coming toward him that he winced. The figure hurrying toward them was a strange sort. Reliably human, with salt and pepper hair down past his waist and most of his body hair shaved cleanly off. He'd even plucked his eyebrows a bit too much, resulting in thin lines that furrowed together as he approached Ninus. While he wore a shirt, from the waist down was a tattered skirt that hung raggedly about his ankles. A lopsided belt too large for his slender waist struggled to hold a dagger. The creature pursed his lips and folded hands tipped in long, pointed fingernails across a narrow chest. Brother ran a hand behind his neck, and with a mumbled 'ma'am' moved off to greet his fellows. Ninus bit his lip nervously, saw the man cock one skinny hand back, and recieved a crack that turned his head round, made him stumble and let go of Novus' hand. "THAT was for never writing, or visiting. Your father has been worried SICK. Sick, he's been thinking you were stabbed in an alley somewhere, and once I told him that you might rat us out to the knights he was chewing his fingernails down to bloody nubs. If you've betrayed us to save your own hide in that...that...petch-hole of a city I'll skin you right here. Oh, and the men you poisoned? We touched one and the lot of us were sick for months! I grew a beard. A BEARD, Ninus. You know how much I hate that." The creature snarled. Ninus rubbed his cheek, and opened his mouth to say something, but the man lifted one long, skinny, sharp finger. "No you don't, I don't want to hear it. Not a single petching letter and what am I to do? Come and visit you? No, I have to keep savages like your father in line. I know he kicked you out of the group but that was until your madness calmed down." The man paused and looked at Novus, his expression softening. "Dear, I'm so sorry they dragged you into this. They're complete animals at times. Animals!" he shouted the last behind him at the men, who suddenly had other activities to attend to that wasn't staring at Ninus' awkward family reunion. "Well? Introduce me. I didn't teach you manners from those fancy books to have you gawking like a fish in front of someone I don't know." the man sniffed, tucking a long strand of black and white hair over one ear. Ninus looked apologetically at Novus. "My mother." he said. "Excuse me, I do have a name you know." Ninus cleared his throat. "Novus, my spider, this is mine mother Freidys." he said with a sweep of his hand toward the strange man.

[Novus]

Novus was no stranger to this concept that Ninus warned of, that beyond the tenuous toehold that sentient beings clung to in the form of cities, the wildlands were rife with dangers untold. Yet still, he felt at least a little measure of comfort with the press of hard yew against his back, and the blades at his belt. He was not a completely defenseless babe, though it was true that the only targets of his weaponry to date had been the beasts he hunted for food. But he had no quarrel with the sage words Ninus imparted, for they would have been the same he himself would have given. To go out from the city and enter the forest, one should take a very healthy dose of caution along with one’s courage. So at one point, when Ninus lifted their entwined hands to kiss the back of his companion’s, Novus made no reply in noisome words, but merely squeezed those fingers gently, in reassurance. He sensed that Ninus was uneasy, but attributed that mainly to the hazards the poisoner had alluded to. However, the brief glimpse of the man’s upbringing that Ninus had shared with him the evening before, and the sight, and sensation under Novus’ fingertips, of his many scars, had not nor would not be forgotten so quickly. Novus himself had more than a bit of apprehension about meeting Ninus’ rough kin. But mistakenly assuming that Brother stood in fine representation of the rest, however many that might be, he was not as concerned as perhaps he should have been – for both of their sakes. So when they had reached the camp of the brigands, Novus was pulled up sharp by the realization that he’d been greatly mistaken in that assumption. The reception to the prodigal son, or perhaps the wayward son, was cool to say the least. And Novus was half-ready to protest the way Brother had so roughly shoved them to the fore as if they were some wretched trophies to gawk at. He hadn’t tried to delude himself as they had ventured forth from the city, that the type of men who’d as soon cut your throat as belch would be exceedingly amiable towards him, who they knew not. But he’d have thought the sight of their returned brother in arms would have elicited more joyful remark. The framing of Ninus as the kid they’d pulled from the tree was lost for the moment on the newcomer to the troupe. He didn’t know the full story of Ninus’ abandonment and rescue, and for all he was aware, the father and mother the poisoner had referred to were in fact the biological procreators of his newfound companion. As such, he’d have thought their offspring would at least have merited more respect, if not outright affection, amongst the men who followed their lead. From such thinking, it was clear that Novus was an ingénue when it came to such creatures, who for the most part knew less loyalty and bonding than the rats Ninus preferred to keep company with. However, in those first few moments, Novus held his tongue and kept his eyes and ears open. He was far from afraid (again, perhaps more evidence of his naivety), only cautious and wary. Of course, he had but a brief moment to take in those evident to view, before the sound and sight of the one hurrying forward completely captured all of his senses. The sole term of address which their guide murmured before turning away fell on Novus’ ears clear enough. But his eyes were quite confounded as he tried to process the two bits of information. Even the visuals were confusing for a moment, though Novus wasn’t completely unaware of men and boys who, by choice or by lack of other options, passed either occasionally or permanently as females. He thought it odd to find such a one in a camp of such roughnecks, but he’d hardly had time to even cogitate on any of this individual’s incongruities, when that hand was drawn back and let fly. Novus was so taken off guard, never thinking that Ninus would have been the recipient of such a poor welcome home, that he’d not had time to intercede in any way or deflect the blow, for surely he would have otherwise. As it was, even as Ninus’ hand was wrenched from his, his other went to his belt, a completely foolhardy gesture, considering that he was a stranger in their midst. And it was now obvious that even those known to these men weren’t going to be treated with soft gloves. Novus barely registered the vitriolic diatribe that spewed forth from those loathsome lips, as he glared at the harridan, unsure of what was to come next. That moment of uncertainty probably preserved his life, for he had time to truly reflect on the absolute folly of offering any violence to this foul creature, surrounded as they were. In fact, his dark eyes took in the others, who either looked up at the exchange or who pointedly looked away, but none raised a voice or hand to interfere, and a few returned Novus’ glare with baleful looks of their own. With fingers relaxing, Novus decided instead to step closer beside Ninus, and offer what support he could in the form of placing a steady hand to his friend’s back, as the other went on, chastising and berating the errant stray for being too long away and for having dropped off communication, all to the great dismay of the alluded to father, with various unpleasantries thrown in. In no way was Novus connecting this appalling vision of frost and acid with any sort of parental personage, and he wondered greatly who this hermaphroditic harpy was. The allusion to Ninus having poisoned some unspecified men, Novus put down to some wild flight of fancy, for he didn’t think it at all reasonable to conclude the rant was based in truth. Why would Ninus have poisoned his own brothers? And Novus was given no opportunity to counter any of what was being flung at his head by this bizarre person, who only paused long enough to jab a bony finger in his face and draw breath to begin a new onslaught. More ridiculous talk of madness and Ninus being forcibly put from the merry band of outlaws had Novus’ brow knitting tighter and tighter into a frown of vexation that this unseemly and extremely hostile display should be allowed to go on. But almost like a spigot being turned and its flow of water halted in mid-spate, this foul shemale softened like a night blooming flower. Turning to the newcomer, the sight of Novus’ dark attire and expression seemed to bring out some sickly sweetness from this wreck of a blossom. He was almost more aghast than if the long haired witch had turned his acerbic cant to include the ‘guest’, as it so clearly included the ones scattered about, for whom the creature seemed to hold some particular ire as well. To the semblance of an apology offered, Novus only gritted his teeth, the multitude of curses gathering there behind his teeth jamming together, each one vying to be first out of his mouth. His glare must have shown full well that he was as like to return the blow delivered to Ninus, as to return any sort of felicitous greeting. But Novus was quickly supplanted in the man’s consideration when his aggravation was once again directed at Ninus. And when his friend turned those unhappy eyes to the Spider, Novus returned that look with one of his own – filled with indignation and concern, all on Ninus’ behalf. Those two words that fell from those sweet lips were almost enough to make Novus reel back physically with the shock he felt. His mother? Surely Novus had heard wrong, for this awful thing could not be mother to any creature – neither by biology nor by any sense of maternal feeling or consideration! Novus’ mouth opened, but all the curses had fled, swallowed down or evaporated in the heat of this startling impossibility. But no, it was repeated anew, and this time a name given, to ground this horrific flight of fancy further in reality. Novus could but stare at his friend, dumbstruck, for a long moment, searching his dark eyes for some sign that this was a joke – a jest being had at his expense. There was, though, only an abashed candor, that knew no refusal. Novus swallowed, clamping his mouth back shut once more, trying to read in those black depths what was to do here. The storms he saw brewing there clouded any sure reading of what Ninus desired him to do, or say, but Novus felt that his friend wanted, above all, for the least amount of ire to be provoked in the coming exchange. Novus, concluding that any such provocation would only be turned, most likely, once more against Ninus, swallowed again, and slowly turned his gaze to the now somewhat serene face he’d gladly have smashed his fist into. How many years had he had to practice the schooling of his facial muscles to reflect…nothing? To deflect contempt and derision with an expression that would not give away a single thought or feeling to his tormentors. To drop the lines of happiness, or sadness, or anxiety, or boldness, and simply…look at them. Neutral in the extreme, for try as they might, they could never force him to give up what he held most dear – his control over himself, and his inner autonomy to be how he saw himself, and not how any other perceived him. This was a skill he had cultivated, and which now he brought into play, for Ninus foremost, that he should not invoke further wrath upon his friend, and for himself, so that he should not be tempted to slit this witch’s throat and thereby gain his own swift death. “Freidys,” he said simply, with a nod that might have passed for politeness. “I am Novus Ordo, of Kalinor, recently come to Syliras, in search of my father. Your…son…has offered most kindly to assist me.” He kept it at that, not wishing to be effusive in flowery sentiments which he certainly did not feel, such as being glad to be there or happy to make the witch’s acquaintance. He’d thought Ninus to be an oddball, certainly. He found the man being claimed as his dam to be simply…repellant, in his abuse of the poisoner. His gaze went back to Ninus, and he reached again for his hand, gripping it but making no overt display of concern for the glowing red mark on his cheek, other than in his expressive eyes. In company such as this, Novus had no desire to unman his companion, or make much of what might be perceived as a sign of weakness.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus gently held the hand that grasped his, grateful that Novus hadn't drawn any sort of weapon. He'd seen how, the instant Novus had placed his hand on his weapon, one of the fletchers had quietly set an arrow to his bow. Novus would have been dead the second he tried anything. Freidys was nasty with the knife himself, and while seeing a fight between his mother and his prospective lover would be fascinating...it was in no way desireable. Freidys had gone silent, most of the anger leaving him like a ship dead in the water. Ninus released Novus, reached out and took his mother's hands. "I apologize, from the depths of my heart, for not easing your fear and pain at my departure. I know such anger is borne out of such years of waiting, and hearing nothing but the silence of the forest about you." he said quietly. Freidys nodded and sighed, pulling Ninus close and hugging him. "I know I owe the men here, more than any man will know. I know the blades I have placed here, I make no illusions. But I want to mend such fences with kindness and love. I wish to speak to my father, for it is with him and you I wish to begin sawing saplings." Freidys kissed Ninus' forehead. "I know. Listen, both of you come to my tent. We can drink tea and speak." he said, pulling away from him and walking away to a large tent, the largest of the bunch. Indeed it was a pavilion meant for five or six men. Ninus turned to Novus and kissed his cheek. "He's not so bad. Think of him as a mother hound who has lost her pup to see him returned as a man. Hysterics were expected." Ninus said quietly. "Come. I desire for you to be glad with him, and to see him as I do. Not as some evil thing." He drew away and followed Freidys into the tent, smiling and shaking his head as he did so. "You have stolen his tent from him, lorded over his house and his belongings. Is his slight to you so deep, the knife so buried in your flesh you could not forgive him even ten years after such a slight?" Ninus asked of Freidys as he entered the tent. It was spacious but by no means luxurious. The white canvas had been stitched a hundred times over, and the bed was a rather well-arranged pile of bear and deer furs. Small nightstands stood to either side with oil lamps, and a chest at the foot of the bed had seen better days. There were books lining the floor winging either side of the bed, ragged, torn, water damaged. A cooking fire ringed in stones was in the center, heating a large iron pot of water and surrounded by various boxes and packages. There was a small table to the left of the room on a ragged rug, with pillows to sit on. Ninus took his seat at one of these, looking at the chest. "Thou hast disarmed my father?" he asked Freidys. Freidys took the pot off of the fire with a rag wrapped about his hand, smirking over at Ninus. "No. He's gotten new weapons. But he misses the ones he forged himself, and he can't come into this tent. Not until he makes up for the wrongs he's done. I know you were just a child when it happened...but we still raised you together, and gave you that. Your father and I haven't been lovers since you learned to walk, but I've saved his life a hundred times since then...and he mine." Freidys said as he picked up three cracked cups and settled at the table. Ninus sighed. "Mother of mine, thou ist cruel to keep torturing him. But this is not why I have come. From whence has he gone?" he asked. "Two days past. Should be back any day now. Scouting with the only horse we've got left." Freidys said. "He's the cruel one. That's the end of it...he's lucky he doesn't wake up with a knife at his neck." The man-woman poured three cups of tea, simple pine and lemon tea that Ninus knew well. His mother made it every day, and claimed it kept him strong. When a few of the men had fallen sick with scurvy from no fruit, that point had proved true. "Dost thou feel thine bed is cold and thine heart just as so?" Ninus asked. Freidys sighed. "I don't miss him, and that's the end of it. What's this business you can ask him but not me?" he returned the question with a question. Ninus looked at Novus. "My friend must find his sire. A caravaner, who travels from here to the lairs of the widows below the earth." he said.

[Novus]

Novus was not as taken aback by Ninus’ rapprochement with the man he looked upon as his mother as he might have been, given the acrimony the poisoner’s appearance had sparked in the creature’s thin chest. Such were the foibles of the parent- child relationship, and though Novus himself had never been on the receiving end of such ill usage by his own mother, he couldn’t discount the fact that not all offspring were so lucky. So at his friend’s adjuration that he be at peace with this bizarre being, and having seen that, upon Ninus’ apparently sincere and heartfelt apology, Freidys had settled to a more loving and calm demeanor, Novus was content to do as Ninus bid. He accepted the kiss and the request with equal aplomb, though determined to keep a wary eye on the mother that could seemingly turn monster in less than a heartbeat. Novus had been unaware of the arrow aimed his way, and so his outward equanimity as he went with Ninus into the tent was willing, though it might easily have been forced. The contents of Freidys’ mobile abode were curious, as was everything else about him, and his son. Novus looked around with an unguarded expression of frank intrigue, eyeing the books especially. He heard the words exchanged, having to do, without any question, with Ninus’ father – who was absent from both tent and camp. The two spoke of some alienation between the ‘parents’ but of this, Novus could not make heads nor tails, nor did he inquire. That would be rude, or so he thought, and besides, he did not wish to stir up any hidden hornet’s nest of vexation with Freidys. So he sat next to Ninus without saying anything, and took the cup of tea which was offered to him, and sniffed its fragrance with olfactory pleasure, even as he kept vision and hearing focused on the odd man-woman. It had become readily apparent and unquestionable that the two men had set a precedent for their child, such that it came as little surprise that Ninus himself was not a one for the ladies. It was unfortunate, though, Novus thought to himself, that the poisoner had had such bad luck finding another of like mind. This made Novus consider whether or not Syliras was in fact a good place for him, as well, if such was the common sentiment there. In Kalinor, his own tastes – which had been both naturally germinated, and then further cultivated from his social status (or lack thereof) – were certainly frowned upon by a culture where every Symenestra male was expected to do his reproductive duty in propagating what was, in reality, a dying race. But this was not to say that, as long as that function was fulfilled, carnal, or even emotional, desire for another male could not be accommodated. Still, it was uncommon, at least as far as being out in the open and in the public eye. Novus’ dalliances with males that came in with the trade caravans, humans for the most part, weren’t censured as they might have been had he been privileged to be of pureblood, for in large part, no-one gave a damn what he did – as long as he didn’t go sniffing after a pureblood female. That would have garnered him a sharp blade through the heart, unquestionably. He knew there were places in Mizahar where the love of one man for another, or for one woman for another, was not looked at askance at all – or he’d heard as much. The redheaded eagle riders who occasionally had come to Kalinor to bring and take back smaller trade items had said so about their mountain homes. And the web fingered seafarers, who styled themselves the children of Laviku, allegedly held that amorous living arrangements of any kind were entirely acceptable, as long as children were begotten in sufficient numbers. They even were claimed to not worry who a child was born to or of, and all raised the little ones together, as a communal responsibility. So, Novus mused as he took one tiny sip of the hot, hot liquid, he supposed if Sylrias should not prove to be a benign haven, he could seek a life elsewhere. He had no roots now. Though in truth, he did not fancy himself either a sailor or a volcano dweller. His thoughts, momentarily turned down this speculative path, came right back around again, when Ninus gazed at him and made a remark as to the purpose of their journey to the brigands’ camp. At sight of those eyes, Novus felt that he had no reason to leave Syliras, even though it be a hostile city, as long as those black orbs regarded him with such amiable intimacy. Early days yet…but he could hope. Swallowing the sip a bit hastily, and thereby slightly scorching the back of his throat, Novus spoke up. “Yes, my sire was one who signed on as a guard with a merchant named Mathias Sychel. He was in Kalinor long enough to sire me, and not much longer. That was twenty-two years ago. My mother spoke of him often, and from her description, I have a good image of him in my head. She thought he might return one day, but he never did. So when….” Novus hesitated, stopping himself from stating anything about the real reason he had had to leave Kalinor, and said instead, “…so when I decided to leave the place of my rearing, I chose to come here, to Syliras, where he had told her that he was born and raised and lived, when not on the road. I thought I might try to find him, and…and…” And what? He’d thought about that moment for a lifetime, it seemed – the day that he might meet his father, face to face. What did he expect to garner from this occasion, should it ever even arise? Of what utility would it be to either of them? Could he hope that the man who probably never even knew he had a son, a half-widow at that, would be glad to be so elucidated? Would his father greet him with open arms and heart? Wasn’t that too wild a supposition, too far fetched a hope? Well, it was as good a goal as having no other, Novus had concluded, two seasons previously when he had left his birthplace. He might as well attempt to locate the man, as to go here, there, or elsewhere in the world. He could not be any the worse off, should he find that human needle in the haystack of that world, and then be rejected, than if he had never tried to locate him. He’d only still be alone, right? “And…get to know him,” Novus finished, his voice trailing off a bit, his eyes dropping to the cup, his mind dwelling on the oh so recent reunion he’d just witnessed between parent and child. Acrimonious, yes, on the one side, but apparently spurred to that by love, and a sense of loss for that love removed and hidden away. He could never hope to experience the same. That seemed a bit sad. Eyes lifting after a moment, to regard Freidys and not Ninus, Novus added, “His name is Latch. I know little else of him.”

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Freidys listened quietly, taking sips of his own tea. Ninus fell silent; this was between the leaders of the highwaymen and Novus. He had done his duty bringing Novus to them, now it was for him to hope that they could find Novus' sire. Freidys frowned at the name Mathias Sychel. "Mathias Sychel. Sounds familiar." he said. "Kalinor is west from here, across the sea, in Kalea. That would be a long, long journey for a caravan to take, and a dangerous one. Assuming they skipped the ocean, one could easily travel for two years. The common trade routes go south to Zeltiva then over to Kenash, Riverfall and Blackrock. After that they usually turn back to avoid going too far into Falyndar. Another route goes north, to Novallas, the Spires, and ends at Avanthal. So to get to Kalinor, your father must have gone the eastern route. Took a ship over the sea, landed at Karjin, and headed up through Spires, Denval, Sultros. But that route ends at Wind Reach...so he must have deviated to go to Kalinor. I know a few caravans brave the roads there." Freidys chewed the inside of his cheek. "Unless...there's a trade route that's been out of service for a good ten years now. Too dangerous and trade-dry for the risk. Goes across the sea, to Alvadas, Kalinor, then heads up to Wind Reach. The only problem is, those cities are too far between for a good rest in an inn, and the profits are too small. Oxen get lost, ships perish. I know eventually the caravan masters decided it wasn't worth the trouble." He got up and squatted on the bare soil floor, drawing a half-circle U shape with his finger. "The whole of Mizahar is shaped like this, with the top of the half-circle being the sea. Your dad could have settled anywhere along this U shape, depending on which of the trade routes he took. Now, you could ask Mathias Sychel if he remembers which one your father took and scour the cities...but that might take years. Not to mention I doubt you have the funds." Ninus frowned. "Is there no way?" he asked. "Is it hopeless?" "Not entirely. Churchkey has a lot of interactions with the other highwaymen. We keep each other abreast of troubles, like knights patrolling, or some particularly nasty beastie settling on the road, or a caravan a bit too well-armed." Freidys said. "It's part of how we stay alive out here." He took a sip from his tea. "We could put out some feelers for you...but it depends. That's a dangerous business, and we usually don't do it for just anyone." Ninus bit his lip. "Mother...he is as bound to me as father was to you. This is not just a request upon his soul, it rests on mine as well." he said. Freidys stood and turned to look at him, surprised. "You've taken him for a life partner?" he asked. "And you didn't TELL your mother?!" Ninus could see the ire beginning in Freidys' eyes and he swallowed. "Dearest mother, caretaker, this has but happened in less than a fortnight." Ninus blushed as he said it, but saw Freidys' eyes calm back to their normal, moss-green hue. Ninus' description of his mother as a snake was terrifyingly accurate. One moment he was calm, the next bristling with fangs and hissing. "Well then young man, I have to ask you what your intentions are with my son before I do this favour for you two." Freidys said to Novus archly, his eyes raking up and down the half Symenestra.

[Novus]

Novus listened, with a growing sense of discouragement, already knowing all that the brigand had to impart, about the various trade routes. But hearing it anew, and spoken out loud like this, the chances of ever finding his dad seemed to grow more and more remote with every word Freidys let drop from his thin lips. His own experience and talk with the various traders who had braved all the risks to get to the cavern city of the Syms had fully informed him that Kalinor was far removed from any beaten path. Yet there were ships that came to the shore of Kalea, over the low mountains to the north-west, and some who still came by the land routes. He tried to lighten the dismal outlook by repeating to himself that, if he never found the man, he’d be no worse for having looked. But it was clear that Ninus had heard the woeful lack of probability of achieving this goal, as his mother explained how things were, for his questions smacked of a sense of pessimism for the venture. Freidys’ response had Novus feeling a little leap in his chest, a tickle of a hope that perhaps…some news could be had – if there was news to hear. He understood, though, that he was nobody of any account, and of no import whatsoever to the thieves. Ninus’ reply in turn, then, had Novus’ head spinning, as those words tumbled forth, and he looked at his companion as one in a daze of confusion, though it was not one necessarily of alarm, but something more akin to bemusement. Bound? As life partners? What was this? Clamping his mouth shut before it could fall right open in amazement, Novus stared at the poisoner. Less than a fortnight? How about less than the complete cycle of day turned to night and back again? He saw the color in Ninus’ cheeks, and he knew full well what put it there. The cheeky little rascal! Novus was just congratulating his friend – his partner? – silently, for a job well done in appeasing the man. Novus would have likened him more to a porcupine, for he’d seen few who could bristle up with such sharp barbs as Freidys seemed inclined to. But of a sudden, that prickly mien was turned on him, and his eyes at first startled, as Novus blinked once, and then twice. Did he feel the most subtle of nudges against his knee? Was Ninus intent upon telling him something with that touch? Like a bolt of lightning in a summer sky, Novus’ mind raced to process the quick exchange and what best answer he should give to Freidys’ pointed look. And like a jolt of electricity, he understood, and the words flowed with few stumbles from lips that he could barely keep from the grin that lurked thereon. Novus nodded, eagerly, slipping his hand over to catch and entwine in Ninus’. “It would be my most joyous pleasure to so inform you.” His eyes were still on the old thief, but his fingers squeezed those others to demonstrate he understood, and might yet need some confirmatory back up. “You see, as I’ve said and you can well imagine, I am newly come to the walled city of the knights, and quite completely alone. Or…I was.” He turned his gaze on Ninus, and his voice softened a smidgin, even though, in his mind, Ninus had designated them partners simply to bolster this request for his parents’ assistance. Beyond that…well, Novus took that blush for the display of a slightly guilty conscience, for he was sure Ninus was not prepared to really claim his as partner. “And then I had the greatest good fortune to be brought to your son’s door, by a fantastical guide, and now, it seems, he has set me on a course that, I had asked for but which I could have in no way imagined turning out like this.” The mixed blood’s tone held a note of wonderment, as if even he was hard pressed to see the machinations and twists of a poor fortune that had suddenly seemed to flip, with him landing fully on his feet, and in this man’s arms. Novus smiled, warmly, raising Ninus’ hand to his lips, and enclosing it with both of his own, kissing the exposed fingers. “And I am content to stay with him and lay with him, and to protect him if I can and be his companion, if he should wish it, for I think in all of Mizahar, I should not find such a one as him.” And this, though it could be interpreted in any number of ways, was verily the truth. So saying, Novus leant in and placed a tender kiss on Ninus’ lips, a lingering one even though it was chaste in the extreme, holding a promise to echo those which he’s just given voice to, even if his “partner’ only meant this as a ruse. With his eyes on Ninus, he said in a very low voice, “And this is what he desires too, or I am very badly mistaken.” With what a tumult of mixed emotions did Novus gaze into those dark circles, wondering what in the hell was going on behind them….and what would come of these impromptu words that had seemed to leap up right out of his heart and into his mouth, with no thought of passing first through his brain.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus felt a little guilty for deceiving his mother, his blush deepening as he kissed Novus nervously back. He smiled gently and put his hand on Novus cheek, kissing him again. "I have wanted it since the spring of my life." Ninus said quietly, resting his forehead against Novus' for a moment. It had only been meant as a ruse, since he knew Freidys wouldn't stick his neck out so far for someone who wasn't family. He wasn't ready for such a deep commitment as life-bonding, and would have returned to his family for such a ceremony. He smiled nonetheless and kissed Novus again, drawing back and looking at his mother. He had one eyebrow raised and a rather cynical expression on his face. "Better get over that enthusiasm, it will pass once you both figure out men are snakes." Freidys said. "I suppose I'm happy for you Ninus. You deserve it. Alright then, since your boy is officially family then I suppose I'll have to let your father in here when he returns. I'll let you have the tent for tonight; I'll go sleep in his, and he will sleep under the stars." Ninus frowned a bit but said nothing. Freidys, while not the leader of the highwaymen, was known for getting what he wanted by hook or crook. He had little doubt his father would be unwittingly kicked out to sleep on his cloak by the fire while Freidys absconded his bedroll. "I'll see what I can do for you." Freidys said, going to Ninus and kissing his cheek. "Get some rest, dinner is in an hour. I'll tell the men not to bother you." Ninus blushed as he looked at Novus, alone in the tent. "I...I apologize. My mother would never have left such a comfortable burrow as this glade unless you were bound to me. Thou art family in their eyes now, and protected at least upon the roads my father watches. Perhaps the entirety of the wood." he told him, shuffling close to sit next to Novus and kiss him. "I would like you to keep your promise...to keep me and lay with me tonight." he said ever so quietly, trailing kisses down Novus' neck.

[Novus]

With his heart beating a little too fast, Novus heard the confirmation that Ninus gave, knowing though, that in the clever wording, the poisoner was not really claiming him, but only the longed for ethereal someone who might yet be his life partner. Still, it was a good start, and even if it was mostly a sham, on Novus’ part the prospect seemed a happy one, for as long as the ruse might last. Freidys, of course, had his own skeptical view to throw on their purported bond, like a wet blanket over a flame. But he seemed content with their affirmations, and Novus was actually quite surprised that Freidys then, rather abruptly, left them to their own devises. Just like that, there were only the two of them, sat side by side, co-conspirators in their calumny of what was, in truth, a rather sacred concept. Not that Novus gave a damn for that. Ridiculous or not, he was glad of what he’d said, for whatever fruit it would bear him – a father, or a partner, or possibly neither in the long run. For now, he was happy. Tomorrow would bring what it chose, and he’d have little say in that. This moment, though, he could savor. Ninus seemed much more abashed at the mishmash of half truths and outright lie that had been propounded in order to secure the aid Novus needed. But his words brought only further joy to Novus, and a wolfish grin to his already smiling lips. “I’m glad beyond words that you were willing to go to such lengths for me, Ninus. You have no need to apologize. It’s I that owe you,” he replied, as Ninus moved closer still. With this ready forgiveness of even the perception of an offense, Novus leaned in to receive that next kiss, which was quite a bit more passionate than the one presented before his mother. The next words he murmured against Novus’ neck, as he laid down a trail of soft kisses, were met with a soft moan, and hands raised to cup about his face and head, as Novus bestowed kiss after kiss about Ninus’ ears and cheek. There followed a long moment of breathless movement, as it seemed some spark had been ignited between the two, and each was eager to fan the flames with lips and hands. Panting a bit, Novus finally made a reply to Ninus’ request veiled as a mild suggestion. “I’ll keep you, and my promises, each of them, as best I can, Ninus,” he breathed against the other’s mouth, interspersing words with fervent kisses. “We would not want your mother to think that we were not in earnest, now would we?” They had been seated upon two of the cushions that encircled the low table, but only a few feet separated them from the bed of furs, strewn on the floor against the other side of the tent. Novus left off his kisses against those sweet lips long enough to cast a quick glance that way, and then gaze deep into Ninus’ eyes. “Do we have to wait until the night?” he asked, in a low voice that fairly brimmed with desire, for truly, this renewed intimacy made him burn for more. “We have an hour. We could at least be more comfortable…over there.” He nodded, clear in his intent.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus pressed his body to Novus', kissing him fervently. "I would be in earnest with thee." he mumbled against Novus' ear, leaning his head back to recieve the kisses to his neck and ears. He was being fanned into flames, much like the poison of a cherry, but so much sweeter. They parted, panting with desire, and Ninus looked to the bed. "I know I asked thy patience with me, but I have impatience with myself, and my nervousness." he stood and took Novus' hand, pulling him toward the bed. He kissed him, pulling the half-breed's shirt over his head and doing the same with his own. He pressed his body to Novus, hungry with desire for the other man. "I dangle over a precipice from which I have no experience holding on to." he whispered to Novus. "But I wish thine body to take mine, entwined in black poetry, shifting, limbs tangled to make one form." He undressed himself, gently pushing Novus to sit on the bed and straddling his lap, naked, wanting, his face flushed. "Teach me, I am but an eager student listening to your every word." he told him, his hands eagerly going to Novus' pants. "Thy touch makes my skin burn.." It was an hour later that Ninus lay in Novus arms, panting, his head on Novus' chest. His hips were still shaking from the culmination of their desire, and it had exhausted him. He opened one black eye to look up at Novus, shifting to pull one of the furs over their bodies. He was fairly sure he could hear the clanging of the dinner bell outside, and his mother shouting to form an orderly line and grousing about something. Ninus smiled faintly. Freidys wasn't happy unless everyone was scurrying under his feet. When the shouts grew louder he frowned. Freidys was usually just complaining about everyone's table manners and trying to convince them that bread didn't count as an eating tool. This was much louder, and angrier. He heard footsteps approaching the tent and was suddenly glad he'd pulled the furs up. "-my gods-thrice-damned son, Freidys, and I'll make petching sure you can't stick him in there and sharpen your bloody knives all day! Besides, its my bloody tent, and I haven't seen him for six years." Ninus sat up as the tent flap was pulled aside, revealing a sour-faced Freidys and another man. This one had dark silver hair with long stubble on his jaw, but his eyes were a bright hazel. He was of medium build, but decently tall, and dirty from a few days of rough riding. He was wearing leather armor and gloves, with dark green breeches and a once-white shirt streaked in sweat. He cleared his throat when he saw the two in bed, a bit surprised. "For the gods' sake Church." Freidys pulled down the flap in front of his father's rather surprised face. Ninus fell back on the bed with a loud groan of dismay, putting his hands up to his face. The first time he'd seen his father in six years, and he was naked.