Closed rain don't change the sun.

[Caelum]

Rain Don’t Change the Sun ’Cause the devil’s in the details and he’s taking his toll, sending good men down the foot trails of lost and lonely souls, And I say rain don’t change the sun. Jealous is the night when the morning comes, but it always comes. - Delta Rae. Timestamp: 81 Summer 513 This time the Sea of Grass tried to keep him, wanting blades whipping against Vega's withers as if they might beat the horse back, urge his long companion to balking beneath this altogether familiar sky and refusing to go on. The dread that was once housed in him of the yawning plains and what well butchered memories it had to serve him was eliminated, erased by the events of the time he been away. It was near two years this go around, a clipping from the foliage of time but one dense with the irrevocable. He had arrived by sea, strong hands gripping the railing of the Bright-Eyed Mariner while the mists of the waterfall gusted over him. It dampened the worn leather of his long, split riding jacket and caused the scratched toes of his boots to glimmer and shine. The sunrise had splattered the horizon with blood, but the sheer vibrancy of the Seagate and the crouched city of the Akalak above it stuttered his heart to Syna's tune. She reveled in such mornings. The music of the Bluevein River haunted his senses until his flesh, sun gilded, relented to absorb it. It turned up the corners of his lips and crinkled the edges of his molten amber eyes. The eyes of others followed him as he disembarked and accepted the welcome and warning of the unfortunate Akalak assigned to the port. Riverfall's map was tucked into a jacket pocket. He had been here before, visited and back again through lives half remembered. The sights offered by the city were soaked in alongside the waterfall mist, worn like a mantel so that he might go as a friend and not a stranger in this place that had known him so well. He was an obvious aberration, however, what with his summer coloring turning the curve of his horns to opal lights and banked embers simmering in the bark of his hair. His complexion was sun warmed, his scars hidden. If his attire was well weathered, it was yet well kept and his mount well fed. The dapple-grey was led through the winding roads and right out the City Gate and into the vast blast of horizon. Vega wanted to run and he himself needed to clear his head before he turned their feet toward the best remembered path -- that which led to the Sanctuary. It was the day following the feastday. This thought skirted through his mind as he bent low over the Windrunner's neck and the wind chased them past the place where once upon a time ago Rak'keli herself had come to pass time with him, leaving Her shining mark emblazoned and bold upon his right hand. There was another goddess who had known him, and more recently at that. Nikali's purpose stung, coiled and heavy in a blood thick branding hidden by his clothing. It was, after a fashion, far more reassuring that the blessing of Dira's kind-eyed sister. It told him of a world in need, set out sign posts like a subliminal compass to encourage him toward meeting them. For a man who had spent the whole of his return from the Ukalas hunting up the mysteries of the dead and divine and sussing out the secrets of history, Nikali's mark was a welcome and guiding hand. That was not to say he hadn't taken his time coming to terms with it, and with Her. How far must a man walk before all that he was is left behind? A foot trail of shed skin littered the road of his life, and from them he had not slithered out so much as he hit the ground running, bitter and desperate, driven and hungry. Destruction had met him, crippled and defeated. Yet as he rode through the morning, wallowing in the phantoms of past lives that lingered to greet him rather than tearing through them with terror for their mortal coils, he was healthy and strong. The vibrancy of day embraced him at last, and he returned shriven of the bitterness that had frozen his colors to forsaken in his fall. Yet he still hungered. A recollection of low slung buildings and a thunderous sea cliff hung like a jewel in his mind until, eventually, he and Vega turned back to the city. It was there that he thought to wind his way past the Tower of Nysel and, crouching at its base, tuck a solitary myrdas flower amid the far more elaborate flotsam of petitions left by others. He had taken the flower from the plains, spinning in between his fingers as he envisioned the present day members of his ancient Drykas clan. The Sunsingers, he hoped, thrived still out there in the city that never stayed. His next stop was the Moonstone Bath and Massage to was the dust of a thousand roads from him. He doled out the gold for a private bath with a miserly twist to his mouth. He may well have been flush for the day, but he knew all too well how swiftly wealth sifted out through the cracks of his fingers, funneled away like sand in an hourglass or the ash of an incense blessing. The privacy was worth the price, however. Too close quarters with people had a habit of pushing and pulling him a dozen different directions, wracking him with requirements laid on his shoulders by Nikali and Rak'keli. It had been adventure enough to take passage of a ship to Riverfall and the place, the woman, who lived here that he had vague but determined hopes to root out a home among. Home was a four letter word, or it had been for the majority of his hours back on this earth and he as foreign an inhabitant as a jamoura in the middle of the Suvan Sea. Coming clean to the Sanctuary, smelling of nothing but soap and water, sun and wind, made him cease to regret. There was nothing to be done for the salt blasted state of his clothing or his abbreviated version of luggage, but at least in his pockets were carefully packed gifts. He did not wish to come as a beggar again. Not when Nikali's chain had been rattled in the recesses of his soul for a season now gone, ushering him toward Cyphrus and through the city of Akajia's sons beyond. When the rumors of the Ruv'na struck his ears in the baths, he began to understand. "Hush now, friend," Caelum murmured in the cozy din. There had been distant but blackened figures, some living and others but sentinel pines on the border of the forest that crept along the Sanctuary's edge. He had ridden right into the courtyard while the gulls called to one another in the pasture, wheeling round and round again. Golden eyes took in everything, sweeping the bustling afternoon and finding it quieter than he had expected. But he forgot, it was the day following the feast. Many were still taking holiday with their full bellies or busy cleaning up the remnants of it within in kitchens and dining halls. Unperturbed, the ethaefal dismounted in a jolt of dust and a white grin for Vega's whickering. He clucked and whistled, letting his friend follow him toward the stables. Caelum intended to brush the horse down, set him up with some feed, and then go wandering through the surrounds until his memories and Nikali staked him a spot where he might find his friend. He did not have many of them, and so he placed Kavala's worth higher still. It had been some while since he had laid his head, or seen her smile at him in the moonlight, welcome writ all around. If no one showed by the time he finished setting up Vega, he would go hunting her. Already he had come hundreds of leagues. He could roam half a distance more.

[Kavala]

There was nothing familiar anymore where once the old Sanctuary stood. Gone were the wooden buildings and fences and the quiet comfort of the square structure that had housed horses all along its parameter and people in its second stories. Instead, where the place used to rest was a twenty foot high stone wall that was broken only by twin set of wrought iron gates, one on the north wall and one on the south. The north wall faced the road and was the horse gate most people approached. During the day with no threat of enemies, it was wide open and a courtyard far large enough to park several wagons in revealed itself. Barns rose to lofty heights on either side of the courtyard, and an elegant dirt arena stretched out opposite the gates, displaying buildings for people on the far side. The barns that flanked the stone intricately inlaid stone cobbles were each carefully labeled with elegant pavi. One said Broodmares, the other said Boarders. A forge was behind and beside the gates to the east, while a stallion barn also thus labeled stretched out to the west. The wall surrounding was so vast that paddocks turned out from behind each barn and ran acres to the edge of the wall.

There were horses in the arena, strange ones, with a luminous glint to their coats. It looked like most were the same age, and those creatures were being put to the test by a small Konti with long white hair dressed as a man. She had divided the herd into two groups. One milled around restlessly, while the other milled around tiredly. She seemed to be cutting a horse from the restless herd, working them, and then placing them within the tired herd. Most trainers would have the mob of horses interacting, but part of her training was keeping them separate.

Once selected out, each horse was handled, a stiff brush ran over their coat, and then their heads were bent and flexed until they yielded to pressure on the halter and softened up. She would then back them up, send them away from her on a long lunge line, and issue several commands along with working them in big circles. When they were sufficiently sweaty and she was sufficiently satisfied with their progress, they were heavily praised and turned loose to rejoin the other herd of tired animals. It was clear by the heavy breathing of the Konti and the shrunken size of the restless herd that she'd soon be done.

One horse, then a second, and finally the third and last passed through her quick training workout, and she turned them all loose together, releasing them with her eyes and body. It was then she walked back through the arena gate, leaving the horses to relax.

First she noticed Vega. It was like that with Kavala and horses. She often remembered them far longer than she remembered their riders. But this was one rider she wouldn't soon forget. Was Vega here with Caelum or someone else? The Konti broke into a trot, not being able to see the form on the far side of the stallion. "Caelum?" She asked, not caring that she was sweaty and smelling like horse. All she cared about was that it was him and not someone who'd traded for the stallion and had somehow found their way here.

"Caelum?!" She asked, closer now, raising her voice but not in such a way that would startle the road weary mount tethered and being seen too. "Gods, is it really you?" She asked, hopeful and expectant.

new layout :

[Caelum]

Change was constant for Caelum. Another man might have worried to find the Sanctuary so altered, fearing for the survival of friends left behind years now gone; but in studying the new barns, in the pattern of stones that built them and the distant buildings meant for people, Caelum saw Kavala everywhere. It would have left a smile lingering on his mouth but for the towering, stone wall. That he had eyed from a distance and could feel the shadow of even while brushing Vega down. "The storm must have come here too," he murmured to the horse. The brush in his hand swept in wide, soothing circles, shaking free dust and sweat from the pretty dapple grey of Vega's coat. "If you're very nice, I imagine Aweston still works here and will find you a cozy stall..." He trailed off at the sound of his name. It was merely the name he had given himself, baptized in the storm waters off of Black Rock a decade past, but it was beginning to belong to him. Besides, it was a rare hour he heard it uttered, moving so often as an unknown entity down the roads of this world. Sunlight reflected off of the pearl patterns emerging from the summer gold of his horns when he turned, and he caught sight of Kavala even as Vega whickered a happy, tired greeting. The horse's ears perked forward and he shifted, stamping loud drum beats. Absently, Caelum raised a hand to settle it on the horse's neck, but his eyes were all for the small konti coming toward him. It was definitely Caelum. There was no mistaking an ethaefal of Syna standing in the sunlight, be his dark leathers worn and his once frozen coloring just beginning to brink toward the hues of autumn or not. It was like trying to disguise the sun in the sky -- no matter how angry the cloud or black the night, it always emerged, and until it did there was waiting light yet to create such things as silver linings. At the hope buoyant in Kavala's voice, he grinned. It was unexpected, even startling, a transformative expression Caelum did not think to consider Kavala may never have seen on him before. He rolled forward in a long, easy gait, lean and tall as ever. He seemed less hungry, muscles hard but not starved. It was as if even his flesh had at last relented to accept the bounty granted him by his first goddess. He was even clean for once, blood colors hinting through his hair, chasing the gold out of the earth, all the colors visible for being freshly washed. He met Kavala halfway, so startled by the simple pleasure of being known, too accustomed to being a stranger, that he opened his arms to her and crossed the last step to draw konti into a hug. Strong arms snaked firmly around her and his heartbeat was steady as the pulse of the earth beneath their feet. He smelled of soap and saltwater, wind and light; and in another moment, he would remember that Kavala could be as shy of touch as him. And he would be sorry, and try not to let it be awkward, and release her to regain composure. But for now there was still hope and a warm embrace, rustling the god-heavy chains resting at the bottom of his soul. "Hey," he murmured, a hint of humor in his voice. "It is really me."

[Kavala]

Kavala had a no-nonsense walk that even with shorter legs than most caused a great deal of folks to trot to keep up with her. But as she drew closer, his visage came into sharp clarity. She took in his leathers, his familiar stance, and the glint of immortal beauty that seemed to always wrap around him. His hands were equally balanced, like hers were, capable of healing and killing in equal measures. The stride increased, moving from a purposeful walk to a light jog as she kept coming at him, showing no signs of stopping.

Had he not smiled, something she had never seen on the healers face before, her steps might have half halted before him and gave her pause. But the smile was an invitation, if ever he'd issued any, and the konti barreled into him gently and wrapped her arms around him in a way that told him she'd seen to many losses and had marked him in her mental tally among those who had perished in the great storm that had come a few seasons before. There was no softness to the healer as she folded him in her well muscled arms. Women should have curves and delicacies that enticed men to soften as well. But Kavala seemed to hold true to none of those forms. A warrior enfolded him and buried her face in his chest in a moment of weakness. She did not cry, because in her mind the situation did not merit tears, only a celebration and that was well under way in her heart.

"Gods. You live. I had thought you couldn't possibly be safe, not with how you wander and are so often between places and stages. So many were caught out in the storm, though here we had Konti come from Mura to warn us that it was coming. We went underground... but so many did not. The Drykas were hit so hard, and I thought with your nomadic feet, you'd be the same. And I had been so afraid to look, to see if you lingered in the chavi alive or between." Kavala said, pulling away suddenly, as if she realized he owed her none of the familiarity she took.

But nevertheless, her smile was bright - radiant even - as she pulled back and studied him and then gave his horse a very similar scan and greeting. At least Vega seemed to anticipate the hug he received as well. "Lets get him settled, then you, and I'll tell Aweston to spoil him silly when he gets back from town with a good grooming and some work on his hooves. You've been traveling, from the look of you both." Kavala said, and turned to lead the way into the nearest boarding barn, the one with big stalls filled with sawdust from the saw mill in the city and straw for the more weary horses. She didn't lay a hand on Vega, needing none to urge the horse to come with her and follow her to fresh water and a stall that was already laden with hay and a good portion of grain.

Once the stallion was settled, Kavala took charge and had his tack off, draped over the wall of the stall, and Caelum's saddlebags in her hands. "You are staying, of course, as long as you want." She said, throwing the bags over her shoulder as if she were a horse herself and moving off along a path that skirted the arena and lead around towards what looked like a big medical clinic courtyard. She didn't go into the clinic though. Instead, she lead Caelum east and through a set of sunken double doors that opened wide enough to drive a draft horse cart through. It was a tunnel set into the ground with scones lit periodically along its pathway. The tunnel had no stairs, instead it was built as a smooth spiraling downward ramp that had ridges built into its stone where hooves could grip making the descent or climb easier on a horse.

"We made some changes." Kavala commented and took a branching tunnel to the right, passed by a set of doors, then through a larger set and into what looked for all the world to be a massive common area with an attached kitchen. Less like a true home and more like perhaps a tavern, a hearth dominated the room and had a loose arrangement of couches scattered about. Kavala set Caelums saddlebags down by the largest facing the fire, and stirred up the hearth, adding more wood to the fire.

"I know you probably aren't hungry, having soaked up all that sunshine. But would you like something to drink?" Kavala said, playing the full fledged hostess as she lingered wondering what to get him before she settled in for a long visit opposite or beside wherever he chose to sit. The room was welcoming and had the aura of being homey, comfortable, and well used. In fact, there was a still-warm teacup on one table and a book set beside it as if someone had left them there to go run a quick errand or attend something in the clinic for a moment before planning to return. But there were no windows, only doorways leading off to other parts. It had the weight of stone in the room, above it, and even along the heavily detailed floors. It was constructed carefully, most likely by magic, and the walls decorated in the same manner, a mosaic of blue lapis and green malachite reflecting back.

The hearth itself was the same way, decorated in mosaics of stone, well patterned to match the room and enhance its appeal. Stone scones held up lanterns that lit the place and gave the walls a periodic metallic shine. It was well defensible too, a fortress decorated like a jewel, so that people forgot they were either protected or guarded. But even the tapestries on the wall and the periodic displays of weapons looked anything but mundane. They looked strategically place and well thought out. So too did the glyphs that glowed around the doorways hiding only the Gods knew what within them.

Kavala smiled awaiting his answer, and despite their surroundings, wanting him to feel at home.

[Caelum]

It was a good embrace and an even better smile from Kavala following it. He ambled after her with a smile of his own lingering on his face as he watched Vega settle into Kavala's care with an air of contentment and ease. . "I wasn't on the road when the storm hit." The confession rolled before him, carrying with it clashing notes of sorrow and bemusement. It was as if he at once held a bottomless grief for what he had witnessed as well as a wealth of graveside humor. "I was in a place called Denval. It was far, far north of here." And by the lower tones of his words, it had not weathered the storm too well. (That was the understatement of the season.) When Kavala completed seeing to Vega, Caelum prowled out of his slouch against the stall wall, gave his horse an absent pat, and swung back into step with the konti. It had been a long time since he had walked at her side, but his stride adjusted within a few steps all the same. He was too weary to argue over who carried his bags and, besides, a few of his more gentlemanly inclinations had been whacked out of him by the flat of Captain Astrid's sword once or thrice. There was little like a heavily pregnant woman swinging steel at your head to teach a lesson. "I didn't come through the Sea of Grass," he went on, peering at her sideways. That small smile continued to grace his countenance. It was the simple pleasure of being here and being with her, so easily welcomed back into the fold of the Sanctuary. The heart of the place had not changed even if the construct had. "But by boat. I'll need to travel to Endrykas eventually. I want to," he corrected himself. There was an element of reluctance in him all the same. His feet wanted to wander circles right here for awhile. Maybe the rest of him needed to too. "I've come through a great deal of devastation en route. Lots of problems stretched over the world of late, Kavala. If it's all well and good with you, I think I'd like to stay awhile." He cast her a grin -- there it was, yet again. "I'll bed down in the barn with Vega, eh?" As they passed into the below, he grew quiet, the rest of that thought left incomplete as he took in the new and improved -- and rather awe inspiring -- stronghold his friend had built. The stone walls he reached out to touch, trailing his fingers along the surface. His hands were rough as the hands of man against the hands of time, so unlike most ethaefal, but rather familiar to any horselord. "How on earth did you do this?" He wondered, eyes rising up as they moved into the sprawl of the common room. Dusty boots trekked him a circle, turning him about with the torch light glinting off the glow of his horns. He was not a creature meant to be kept underground, away from the sky. Not in any of his forms. It made his bones feel heavy, as if shot with the iron of meteorites; but it was not a fearsome thing. It warm, even cozy, like a hearthfire rather than a dangerous conflagration. "A drink," he mumbled once he dropped at last to one of the couches. He stretched out long legs, head tumbling back with a sound that was half a laugh and half a groan. "Yes, gods, please. Something strong and cold if you've got it. Otherwise, just strong." His chest shook with a silent chuckle and eventually he lifted his head again, pulling one hand down his face before blinking almost owlishly after her. "Kavala? I missed you. How have you been? Honestly. There's so much to say, but I want to listen and learn even more."

[Kavala]

She leaned back, getting comfortable, something that was a bit more difficult for her these days with her thickened middle. "Sama'el Sunsinger initiated me into reimancy." She commented idly. "I gave him a good string of striders for it too. Turns out I have something of an affinity towards stone. Though if you are staying awhile, we'll have to make you something above ground in the sun to keep you happy." She added, thinking of which structure could have a rooftop apartment added to it so Caelum felt at home. Most likely the healing college could handle such an addition. She couldn't imagine him being happy sleeping in the bowels of the earth like the healer was.

"Denval? Ive heard of it being somewhere far to the west of here. Someone... a champion of Ivak, mentioned it was destroyed when he told me... no showed me through a Dreamwalk what caused the storm and why." Kavala said, pinning Caelum with an intense look before she rose and went to fetch him something hard.

There was a metal chest, more like a wardrobe than naught, in the kitchen area of The Sanctuary. Within it was stored a block of ice that was slowly melting in the insulated metal. Upon it and around it on shelves were food kept at lower temperatures. But more importantly in a small keg resting on the ice itself was one of Sybel's latest batches of brew. Kavala swiveled the tap on the keg and drew Caelum a large mug of the ale. It was not something one could get anywhere. But it was their own label. For herself she took a glass of water cold from the hand crank in the sink and a basket of dried seaweed to settle her ever miserable stomach.

She set the ale down in front of Caelum and rested the glass of water in front of her own seat. She planted her rear back on the cushioned chair, tucked one leg up under her and then broke off a piece of the seaweed to nibble. "The Champion of Ivak came through here a few seasons ago. He had quite the story to tell. Gods born, Gods released... the world is changing, fast, and there are so very few to protect those that are left after the Valterrian. So much has been lost. And there is so much work to be done. You came at a good time, Caelum. I want to restart here. Nysel wants this. The world has been far too long without the Cytali. I was only a blind slave brought to rein and utterly reprogrammed by the Cytali before. I was the bodyguard of their leadership in the times before. I never lead, but I saw plenty and I remember all of it. And I think I can do them justice now." Kavala said, looking at Caelum, judging his reaction and wondering what he'd think of the action.

[Caelum]

Caelum accepted the mug of ale with a murmur of gratitude. An elbow slid back against a cushion and he propelled himself into a better seat so that he could take a deep swallow. Pleasant surprise flickered over his face and he let it linger for Kavala to see as she spoke, so she would know how much he enjoyed the ale. He took a second deep swallow but then those drafts slowed, and slowed. Golden eyes locked on his friend's face, he sat up the rest of the way, riveted to the words she was speaking to him, an elbow spilling to his thigh. By the time Kavala finished, Caelum had stopped drinking altogether. In fact, it appeared as if he had forgotten the ale entirely and the sheer intensity of his regard could have crushed a person of weaker character than the konti possessed. Silence simmered between them. One heartbeat, three. It was broken by the shocking means of a laugh. Caelum was laughing, a true, deep sort of the laughter that came right from the guts and left him clunking his mug down on the table so he could bury his face in his hands and try to contain it. It wheezed out of him as he tried to swallow it into chuckles and eventually snickers where he could gulp in a breath and shake his head. He was still shaking his head when he lifted his face and flung his hands lightly out, toward Kavala, palms open and facing up. "They've done it again," he exclaimed, attempting to regather his wits enough to explain this madness to his friend. "The gods, Kavala. The gods have done it again. Fucking hell." This erupted a fresh round of laughter, but it was shorter this time, though it rode him to his feet to pace around the room. He had always been restless, cagey, a better thinker on his feet than sitting down. His restlessness held none of the desperation and sense of inevitable doom as it had previously, however. It was just him, always needing to be moving, one way or another. "Do you remember how I told you that I felt I was being called to Denval?" He asked, glancing quickly at her as he performed an about face to pace in the other direction, idly wandering around pieces of furniture as if he expected his path, where ever it may lead, to always wind and ravel like a river. "Only I don't think I knew then it was Denval I was being called to. I just knew it was north. North and away and she was calling me, pulling at me. Faster and faster. Anytime I lingered, it would drum up in my head again and I had to go." His palms slid together, the top sliding away and straight out. He used his hands a lot and sometimes they would fall automatically into grasslands signs to augment his words, Pavi being an even more familiar language for him than it had been before. "So I went, of course. And within minutes of setting foot in Denval I felt it. I felt her and I knew I had finally reached the place Syna wanted me to be. She called me there for a purpose and it was.." He trailed off, shadows falling over his face. "It was hard," he said plainly. "But there was.. It was a lot. Your friend was right. Friend who is Ivak's champion? Gods," and he laughed again, quick and sharp as sunlight on a blade. "It all comes together and falls apart and comes together again, doesn't it? Because Kavala --" He swiveled, heel scraping against the floor, to stride toward her chair and drop to a crouch before it. He reached for her hands, tugging lightly on them until he could press them between his own and meet her eyes. "It's clear as blessed day to me now that Nysel has called me here. I felt it in me when the smoke began to clear, but I was uncertain. I'm not any more. Love, I am Cytali. I've been a seeker for the son of Wysar and Akajia for lifetimes, and I know this because what all happened in Denval revealed to me full recollection of my last life. My life as an ankal of the drykas, lover of Syna and arrow of Nysel. My name was Kasb'el." And here, now, he smirked at her. One hand loosed itself to reach into a pocked and withdraw a glittering, golden necklace. From the chain swung like a time keeper's pendulum an ornate keyhole. "Kasb'el Sunsinger. And I remember you." The Necklace :

[Kavala]

Kavala nodded, listening intently to Caelum's words. She raised her eyebrow a time or two and shook her head once when he spoke of stepping foot into Denval and knowing, but she paused when he stopped. He left so much out. She could tell.

"What purpose, Caelum? What did She call you to Denval for? She who? Rak'keli? Syna? Or someone else?" Kavala knew it was important. It was a weight on him, though she couldn't tell if it was a good weight or a bad weight. She understood why he was here now, and knew that undoubtedly he was called. And she knew by whom. It all made a great deal of sense. But there was more she had to learn from him, a lot more, before she fully understood what he was saying.

"Yes. But I don't think its always meant to come together and fall apart. They ask. We don't have to act. Many things that happened didn't have to happen. But they did because we made them happen with our free will. We don't have to do this. But I think we NEED too." She said, shaking her head.

Was Leo a friend? Maybe. She definitely respected him. And she would tell Caelum the story of the Djed Storm. He had ever right to know. That was Leo's purpose of sharing it with her after all. He needed to know about Ssena and all that had happened.

What he said next shocked her. Kavala knew some of it, suspected some of it, but to hear him voice it was astonishing. Tears came to her eyes and she blinked a moment, taken unaware at how his words moved her. It made her past somehow real, somehow important. Kasb'el Sunsinger? Her eyes tracked his movements and then lingered on the necklace. It was beautiful. Her blue eyes went pale as she tracked the swing of the pendant back and forth.

"Tell me." She said suddenly, abruptly, needing to hear it all spill out of him, the past, the history he spoke of. The necklace looked, almost.... like... a memory flooded her, one she'd dreamwalked with another and knew but had forgotten. The necklace looked like the cover of a Inac, the Cytali's pendant that housed the keys to their most important chavi. Strands of hair, clippings of nails, small written words poems or sketches. The heavy pendants moved with people through time, often catching up to the Dreamwalker when they began to walk again in their next life.

And as she waited for him to talk, she reached out to take the necklace, unable to help herself from wanting, no needing, a closer look.

[Caelum]

“I found it at the end of the world,” he told her, speaking of the necklace, words hushed in lamp light. A faint smile ghosted across his face as he watched her with the necklace. “After a fashion. But I swear to all the gods, Kavala, it called you by name.” He unraveled back to his feet, stepping back to give his friend the room she might need to absorb these stories. They were dense with the irrevocable and strung all together with prayer knots and bits of blood and bone. He lifted his hands, fingers shoving back through hair that was starting to bleed from gold to red. He brushed past the curve of his horns and scraped about on the broken heels of his riding boots to amble loose hipped in the opposite direction, pacing once again. “Need,” he chuckled. The sound crawled through the sprawling cavern, rich as earth crumbling in hand. “Yes, I believe you’re right. We don’t have to, but we need to. It was Syna who called me, Kavala, and I needed to go. I didn’t know it and I resented it and it near drove me dead with haste, but she was right. Denval was a city on the sea, surrounded by mountains created in the Valterrian that are so difficult to traverse that they managed to cut the Denvali off from the rest of Mizahar for centuries. I died there, or near there, during the cataclysm. I, as Kasb’el, brought a miniature army of drykas with me at Syna’s bidding in an attempt to retrieve an artifact marked by Syna and Leth both before it fell into the wrong hands. Denval was nothing more than an outpost for the Suvan army back then, but it housed the Solduvan Stone, precious to the gods.” The pulse of Kavala’s need to learn these truths, as terrible as some of them might be, near opened his jaws for him with how strongly it bid him speak. “I failed Syna,” he sighed, an old cut through the center of his soul. “And we died, we all died, in our attempt to steal the Solduvan back for her and the entire world broke itself apart with Ivak’s grief. I ascended then, however, to her realm in the Ukalas; and it was not until I came to Denval in this life that I began to remember the rest. There was a strange magic working through the city, one of which I’d never seen or heard of. Every time any of us attempted to use the power of our gnosis marks, no matter what god or goddess had marked us with them, things would go wrong. Either it would not work or the power would backfire in some way, harming either our intended recipient or the user herself. Regardless, the gods were thick there.” Golden eyes, haunted, turned back toward Kavala then; and they seemed to gleam, reflecting the light in the room back at itself as if in them had been caught a piece of Nikali’s mirror mask. “I met Nikali.” His voice was hushed now. “And saw Syna and Leth. Rak’keli spoke to me, whispering in my ear, and agents of so many other gods and goddess including Ivak’s Zaital crowded around. They had all been drawn to Denval, and all had lived a life long ago in which they had come across the Solduvan Stone. We discovered that the artifact had been imbued with magic, the strange one I mentioned earlier, and it was in the hands of a mage driven made with overgiving. The magic is called Static, and once we retrieved the stone and subdued the mage, it relinquished its grip on the city.” He sank now, perching on the arm of a chair, and his hands curled around it on either side of his eat. His shoulders sagged and his head went down, but his eyes remained up, wary as a boxer; but he hooked his regard on Kavala. “Then the storm came,” he concluded. “And I don’t believe there is a Denval left anymore. There are so many memories of my life as Kasb’el, but it’s the end of that life I recall the most clearly. I could tell you more, but it is like any life – long. Long and busy. I spent most of it in service to Syna and Nysel.”

[Kavala]

“The end of the world?” Kavala said, raising her eyebrow and wondering what such a place was. “And what was it doing there? What is the end of the world even?’ Kavala asked, reaching out to take the necklace and cradle it in her hands. She didn’t blink when Caelum stepped back and began to wander. Fingers splayed out, Kavala studied the pendant carefully, understanding what Caelum was saying about it calling her name. The metal was intricately worked, wrought around a keyhole that seemed to withhold the answer to the universe behind its metal workings. But Kavala understood inherently it was symbolic of her life, and that the lock itself was representative of the questions she constantly asked and all the things she needed to know.

Running her thumb over the tiny stylized key, she smiled, knowing immediately it represented her mind and her will and indeed even her conscious. But there was something not right about it. There was something completely and utterly unnerving about an absence she couldn’t explain. The Konti kept turning the necklace around and around and around, frowning. Something was wrong with it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She was distracted though when Caelum halted his pacing enough to match eyes with her and utter a word that Kavala was familiar with. Need. That followed with a story about Caelum meeting a Goddess Kavala was intimately familiar with. When other gods named were mentioned, the Konti raised and eyebrow but wasn’t ready to let the first name go.

“A long life is not a bad thing, Caelum. Sometimes I think we are here to witness things. Maybe your purpose was to be an eyewitness to Denval’s demise. Someone has to pass on history. If none witness it, then it does not become true history like we know it. “ Kavala said softly, then met his eyes again. “You need to write down what you witnessed there. About the Static… what is that anyhow? And about why you think the city is gone. Someone should let their memories live on even if the city is truly destroyed as you think it is. I wonder if anyone was still there when it fell. I could try to find their chavi and see if it really was destroyed. You don’t have anything of anyone who might have been there and not left do you?” She asked curiously, uncertain who he might have grown close to and lost.

“Nikali is a tricky Goddess. I don’t know if you know this, but I have an older sister, Akela, who is marked by her. It was a heavy burden for her, to always be aware of other’s needs. In many ways she wasn’t living her own life, but instead living a life that moved from meeting one persons needs to anthers. She was here for a while, but I wasn’t a Dreamwalker then. If I had been, I would have made sure I had the means to keep in touch with her to make sure she was okay. Its such an invasion of privacy, but I miss her every day and hope she survived the Djed Storm. But maybe she didn’t either. I don’t know. I really wish I did. You would have liked her. She was infatuated with weapons. She said they kept her far better company than people ever did.” Kavala signed softly.

She snapped her attention back to Caelum and tilted her head. “Tell me about Kasb’el. How long ago was that and you said you remember me… was I there?” Kavala said, looking curious. She noted his words about Syna and Nysel and nodded. “We tend to serve and reserve over and over again don’t we? I haven’t found a life yet, perhaps save my early Kelvic one, where I didn’t serve Nysel, Rak’keli, and Eyris.” Kavala said, noting that what seemed true for her also seemed true for Caleum.