[The Stone Garden] Prelude to Revival (Nya & Orion)

[Abashai]

Timestamp: 3rd Day of Fall, 513 AV


The return to Syliras was fraught with memories. The first time they had entered her gates four years earlier, it had been almost immediately after Abashai had met Nya and they bonded. The Kelvic was not even three years old yet, and Abashai a stranger from a distant land. They were strong then, pure in a sense, Nya untainted by humanity, Abashai virtuous in his traditions. It would be the beginning of an adventure, a horrible adventure that would rip their world apart.

The past three seasons had been precarious. Fleeing Ravok, they had been on the run in the Wildlands, living on what they could hunt and scrounge from the terrain, with a few supplies Abashai had purchased from caravans, hunters and trappers. Luck, fate, magic all played a part in the strange family's preservation. Finally, Abashai and Nya agreed it was safe for them to go to Syliras, to put their plans into motion.

Entering the grand gates, they had been little more than wild animals in threadbare clothing, Abashai's beard grown out and streaked in gray, Nya's hair coursely cut with a dagger. They were lean, scarred, weary and vengeful. The child Nya carried in her arms was not hers, but the Kelvic claimed Abashai's son for herself. They cast away the name given him by his Black Sun mother, agreeing to the Benshiran name Micah instead.


The first place they visited was Traveler's Row and thier old friend Matilda. She was overjoyed and sorrowful to see Nya and Abashai, for the Konti had foreseen much of the tribulation the man and Kelvic had endured. The mysterious landlady assured the couple and the child a room.

Abashai and Nya had visited their home cave in the Bronze Woods on their way to Syliras. Their old dwelling brought darker memories to crisp illumination. The Benshiran gathered a small cache of arms, his part of the spoils from the couple's defeat of an Ebonstryfe contingent, safely stored in a stone cache created by he shaped with geomancy in the cave floor, then covered. Shai would take this collection of weapons to the market and sell it for clothing and to support them until they found a means to earn income.

With their own room, and given the opportunity to wash and dress in clean clothes, Abashai and Nya left Micah in the sure care of Matlilda as they went for a walk. They had arrived with a grand scheme to restart the magecraft of Areesa Tallshade, alive in Nya's psyche and shared by Abashai, the latest incarnation of Jefrek. No further progress could be made in collecting the ancient mage's creations, let alone exacting revenge upon their enemies, until they could revive Areesa's arcane arts. But the task was daunting as they stood and peered up at the towering castle before them. they would need resources, funds to accomplish their goals. At the moment, they had neither, and no real contacts. But they had an idea where to start.

"The knights certainly would have their own selfish motives for an alliance," Abashai spoke as they strolled along, finding themselves at the serenity of the Stone Garden, passing its simple entrance, "But I don't trust them, yet. Not without speaking to leadership, to gauge their integrity now. But I also risk them discovering who I am. A Chaon offering a boon against Ravok would be a hard thing to swallow. If we are to go to them, we must be very careful how much we reveal."

Abashai looked down at Nya. They were not the same now, not like they were the last time. They were harder. The rapture of Kelvic bonding and love had been broken, both now just beginning to germinate again. Looking down at the brindle-maned woman, the Benshiran acknowledged the stirring of those old bonds, crushed but not destroyed by his own betrayal. He was also aware that such connections were inevitable, having defined the relationship between the avatars of Areesa and Jefrek life after life. At the moment, what truly held them together was commitment to their goals, each other, and the pervasive bond of Unity. They could not escape it. It laid open mind and feelings, sensations and instincts to one another. They shared one life, divided between them by Dira to steal Nya from death.

[Nya Winters]

Nya followed Shai, quiet in her own way, not willing to do more than relax and let the warmth of summer wash over her even as the long days turned the cusp and started to grow shorter. The cat hunted, guarded the man and child, and moved with them following where Abashai chose to lead them. In a way, the couple had come full circle, though they were still heavily recovering from their lost year. That's how Nya saw it. It was a year of losses, where everything had changed for them and nothing had remained steady. She was learning how to be around people again, Shai especially. And the child, in that, was a big help. He was not of her flesh, but the great cat did not mind for he smelled all of his own and had a personality that was not dissimilar to Abashai's. She used the infant to shield herself from Shai, to buffer their awkwardness with something that they suddenly had in common when nothing seemed common any longer.

With Micah she learned to speak again, to talk as a human and not just as a cat. Through him she learned how to let humans touch her again, and be aware of it without shallow indifference or haunting disdain. Nya had grown gaunt fleeing from Ravok, the meat melting off her bones as she guarded the child and sacrificed her own food so that he could eat. When Shai had caught up with them, his presence had allowed her to start hunting again and eating without worry the child would be left vulnerable.

Shai himself never knew hunger, not like Nya had, being in the employ of the Black Sun itself. But Nya found him different now. He was harder, and sometimes his eyes were haunted. He moved like a killer and took lives, even if it was just food, without overt compassion. Nya didn't think it was the foreign mark on his body either, though she'd seen it now a time or two. Chaon, he'd called it, though she didn't understand what it meant. The God that had come for Shai after he'd broken their bonds had granted it to him. But to her, it was just another mark on his body. And there were a lot of those. Instead, she thought his coldness was more likely due to the marks on his soul.

In many ways, to Nya, the fall and summer spent in the wilds was like a goodbye trip to her old self, the cat within. She knew what they were headed for, the city, and the tasks they would once more pick up work on. The city meant walls, the scents of thousands of people, and a sky filled with fluttering laundry and towering walls, not trees. In a way she dreaded it, but knew it was necessary. Their life had to go on. They had to make it count for something. There had been too many mistakes in the past, too much greed and suffering and the pursuit of power for power itself. Nya was done playing at being a Goddess. Aressa Tallshade's memories had taught her that. This time it would be different.

Or so she hoped.

Aressa had left the world knowing what she had done was incredibly wrong. She'd hidden her treasure throughout the world at places people couldn't get them... but Nya and Abashai could. Aressa had known that in the end power for power's sake was worthless unless it was channeled into something greater for the greater good. And so as Abashai lead them finally into Syliras and past those great gates, Nya resigned herself to a new phase in their life. He got one room, and they visited with Matilda for a long long time. With the Konti caught up on all that had happened - well all that they were willing to reveal - and Micah having the offer of a babysitter as the pair did their rounds, they were free to sell the goods Shai had brought, get supplies, clean up, and go see the knights.

Nya had no idea how they would make contact with the knights. She didn't know who to go to in order to get a meeting. There was not a single name associated with a knight she knew. But of one thing she was certain... this was not Ravok and these were not the Knights of Rhysol.

"Abashai." She said his name softly as he mused aloud, taking them into a stone garden, a park, to rest for a moment and regroup from their wanderings. She met his gaze, deceptively smaller and frailer than he was in her human guise. Moss green eyes flared for a moment, feral, and then calmed as something he said she did not agree with. As always, a breeze tossed her hair when there was none around and she turned as if to nuzzle something unseen as it whispered in her ear.

"I want to trust these people. I do not know them, but the truth is nothing can be done to us that hasn't already been done, Shai. If you go before them asking for the world and concealing your true nature, then you are creating a storm that may blow in and wreck havoc at any time. If you lay yourself bare with honesty, then there is a chance they will do the same. And if they have your secrets, there is nothing you can be controlled with because the truth is already known and cannot be hung around your neck like a collar. It is your body, and it is your mark, but you should be honest and tell them. The Gods Mark whom they will, some by choice, but many do not have a say at all. These people are wise. They will know this. But if you want their respect, it has to be earned with truth." Nya said softly. She wandered over to a bench, took a seat, and then rose again, restless. The Forest Cat took a look at the stones and then walked forward, kneeling at one. She rubbed her thumb across its surface, read a name, and rose to follow the spiral of stones to the center, wondering who was first to be laid to rest in this manner, honored for all time with a name in a stone.

The cat was like that now. Restless, always, and prone to break away at any intimate conversation or impassioned speech. She held her thoughts close to her, and though the Unity kept them apparent if Shai concentrated enough, their bonds weren't so tight these days that he'd know what she was feeling and thinking because of the marriage and the kelvic bond augmenting the unity. Two of the three broken... lost. She knew he stared after her. He knew she sometimes curled up close to him, snuggling against the small of his back at night for warmth. It never went further than that though, and Shai couldn't be sure why.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion had no grandiose tales, no stories of valor. He'd never faced anything with the power to change the world or strike fear into the hearts of the bravest of souls. He alone had no power to have an effect outside of small circles within Syliras, and within those circles he was oft seen as infamous for his exploits. In the scheme of things he'd been minuscule, unimportant, a speck of dirt in the eyes of the Gods.

That did nothing to alleviate the feeling that the weight of the universe was sitting upon his shoulders.

The end of the previous season had been rough on the squire, and it was taking everything he had not to lose his mind. So distraught was he that he found himself in The Stone Garden, a place rarely cursed with his presence. Dark days had passed for Orion, full of children, anger, vicious beasts, and broken trust. There were no signs of any closure, no one popping out from behind a curtain to tell him it was a joke. No anything. He struggled to fight off the despair, and had quite possibly broken his hand in a fit of rage the previous evening. It was discolored and painful to the touch.

Why he was here and not at the Soothing Waters was a question he couldn’t answer.

It would have made more sense, but he felt..drawn to the memorial grounds. Perhaps a need to reflect and figure out just what sort of person, what sort of man he would be, made the garden seem a perfect place for introspection. The healers could still treat him if he waited another bell or two. The darkness that threatened to was another matter. One that couldn’t be ignored or simply pushed aside.

He couldn’t be sure how long he sat there, lost in aimless thoughts. The smooth stones which made up the walkway could be called anything besides comfortable, but he’d taken a seat to the side of the main traffic area anyways. Eyes closed, he sat cross legged, his right hand absentmindedly caressing the rock around him. His other hand lay protectively cradled against his body to prevent any further damage before he could get it treated.

Trying to clear his thoughts, he took slow, deep breaths.

What am I supposed to do? Everything was going so smoothly. And suddenly…everything collapsed. Everything went awry. What do I do with Emily? With the one on the way? About my training? About my -

A sharp pain shot through Orion’s forearm as his hand reminded him of its situation. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes and stared down at the ground. He was an idiot for thinking he could do anything in this condition. He’d find no peace here. He’d never even get to try with his injury. Orion was just about to give up, just about to stand and head off to get treated and forget whatever stupid idea he had, when he saw them approach.

He’d never seen them before, of that he was sure. He’d have recognized someone like her with no problem. Those eyes were haunting. For a moment, everything faded as he concentrated fully on the two strangers. Syliras was a big city, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t come across either of them. A weight hung over them as they talked with no lack of burden in their tone, though he couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t mean to try and listen in. He didn’t mean to try and eavesdrop. Sometimes his curiosity would simply get the better of him. The two strangers with differing shades of bronzed skin were near. Orion closed his eyes and pretended to be deep in meditation. That was his only shot.

It wasn’t as though someone in full armor could remain discreet if he tried to move closer, after all.

[Abashai]

It was true. Abashai was not the same man who walked the flagstones of Syliras those years ago. Then, he embraced Syliras, became a member of the Cultural Council, called it home for a short time. But torment, abuse and hardship had tainted the Benshiran. Once he had been betrayed, and had become the betrayer himself, trust was a commodity dealt with sparingly. How can one trust when one cannot trust their self? Only after the seasons of wandering had the man come to trust in Nya. Memory said she was without guile, his soul told him regardless of his thoughts, Nya and he were destined to be together, one way or another. The man learned to heed her words, at once the ageless advice of the Magecrafter and the simple sense of the cat.

Crystalline blue-green eyes measured the flare in the deep emerald gaze. Though allowing him to lead them often, Nya did not follow blindly, nor did she hold her peace. Abashai did not probe their Unity much, they were not as they once were, the closeness of love and bond no longer justifying open awareness between them. When Nya had something to say, she said it. Looking down at her, Abashai saw that the woman had ought with his words. His eyes were hard, questioning, but not foreboding.

Open robe was her suggestion. There was a measure of danger in full revelation before the Knights. Chaon's were not welcome in Syliras, treated as spies he supposed, for rival Ravok. But what could Syliras do to them that was worse than what Ravok had rendered? Death at the worst. So another generation would come, rebirth, and they would start over again. At best, they would be taken for what they were and allowed to do their work, and provide a boon against the enemies of the city. Nya was right (a mantra he remembered repeating often), gods marked whom they did for their own reasons. Abashai did not worship Rhysol when he gave him his Chaon. Opening his hands, he looked down upon his palms and the symbols of Yahal etched into his skin. And Yahal had yet to take his mark from him, though Abashai's heart had been far from the Holy One.

Shai gave Nya the slightest of nods, smile flat, acknowledgement of the opinion before she again distanced herself. The Benshiran's gaze followed the woman as she followed the stones. She was so familiar and so distant. Layer upon layer, cycle after cycle, the dynamics between the ageless souls had accumulated around them. Companion, lover, victim, murderer, friend, enemy, threat, refuge, teacher, student, husband, wife, betrayer, hater. They had been all at one time or another. Though they had started over, in a sense, after fleeing Ravok, the myriad of roles clung to them, ghosts that reminded them of the grander scheme, the great task they had come to the center of society to take up again.

Still, sometimes, the Abashai that was whispered to him in the still of the night, when he felt the kelvic shift against his back, reminding him of what had been stolen from him, and asking him if he was ever going to take it back.

As Nya pondered the memorial stones, Abashai turned to survey the serene garden. Those few who were passing through did so reverently, and after seeing the tall, dark Benshiran, continued on, though their furtive glances darted to another figure in the park. Shai's gaze shifted to the man sitting on the ground, a Knight. The posture he assumed suggested a search for serenity, though the warrior winced on occasion, as if in pain. The Chaon found it curious to see the knight sitting in full armor, wondering how the man concentrated in what Abashai assumed would be a rather uncomfortable position. The Benshiran noted too, the Syliran glancing at Nya. A sign? The Benshiran put nothing past the gods.

Again, a sober gaze shifted to Nya, confirming his intent. They needed someone, they had no one. Here was a someone. Walking closer to the knight, boots barely scraping on the worn stone, Abashai stopped before the man. "You find her intriguing. You should." The raven-maned man spoke, his Shiber accent thick, his eyes darting again to the kelvic woman before returning to the squire. "Hers, ours, is a long story, but one you, and your superiors, will want to hear."

[Nya Winters]

The breeze that teased her hair whispered and Nya responded, introducing herself softly, getting to know the neighborhood. Though Shai had seen to it that they were cleaned up and decent before their search began, Nya's hair was already free of its bindings and tangling around her body. It had grown out over the summer, long again after her forced confinement and strict upkeep by the man who'd tried to spend a season studying her.

The brindled tresses gave away the presence of the breeze, and then a zephyr that also came to investigate the Stormwarden's presence. They spoke of Zulrav's moods, the three of them, quietly and as the breeze skipped along, blowing dust from the names etched in the stones. The breeze hadn't realized the importance of the names, though it had dwelled in the garden a long long time. In all the mourning, no one had explained to either creature that in this place, the art was a memorial.

The zephyr jumped in to help, scouring the stones, and Nya raised her voice abruptly. "No, my strong friend. Not you. Let her do it. She has a soft gentle breath. Your fiercer voice will wear the names from the stones because of the dirt and sand, and the men that have fallen and are remembered here will loose their identity." She said, following the two creatures of wind around, smiling gently and suddenly and abruptly at something the breeze said.

"Yes, little one. There are things you will always be far better at than bigger, stronger forces. But pay mind to the zephyr. He can chase the gulls and other birds away that will leave droppings where none should be. And that too is an important task." She added, a bit of pride in the Kelvic's voice as she coaxed the air creatures about. In a mild flurry, the little breeze zipped up and down the rows of stones, blowing dust and dirt from the names, eager now that she seemed to recognize the importance of the task. Leaves that had started to fall from the trees and decorative plants that graced the stone garden swirled gently upwards until a fierce wind carried them off out across the walls and into the streets beyond. In only a short time, the park was clean and the names hidden by dust and dirt accumulations were revealed. Nya glanced upwards, studied the skies and shook her head. She kept her voice soft.

"No. There are people here. Let's hold off on the rain until darkness drives them indoors then we can wash the rest of the dirt away." She said, knowing the park was already clean but that the winds still wanted to help. They got so little attention from the sentient beings they often watched and it saddened her some that in general people didn't realize how much life was all around them.

Distracted, the kelvic had lost track of Abashai. She lifted her head, scented the wind, and swept the garden until she saw him standing beside a resting knight. Downwind, she drank in both of their scents and started towards them, restless again, in many ways no better than the winds she frequently befriended. Nya slipped up beside Abashai cautiously, not wanting to interrupt. She did not meet Orion's eyes, nor did she stare at him. Instead, she let her eyes loose focus and watched him with her other senses... her nose, her hearing, listening to see if he took deep breaths, or small hurried ones. Was he relaxed? Was he cautious. Did he smell like rage or violence.

Orion had a scent that was none of those things. He smelled clean, and had the scent of a child on him, a little girl. Nya relaxed, thinking him a father. And though he was clean, there was a slight scent of perspiration, the kind that came from discomfort or pain, rather than exertion. The body produced different chemicals for different things, and Nya could often determine which was which if she paid attention.

"You are hurt?" She asked suddenly, her eyes snapping to him and watching the way he hunched over slightly, cradling an arm protectively against his side. She could not smell blood though, which was always a better sign than blood and pain intermingled. Standing beside and slightly behind Shai, Nya met Orion's gaze for the first time, her moss green eyes brightening with curiosity. The moment before she'd met his gaze, if he'd been looking, he would have seen nothing there.. nothing but dead.

[Orion Michaels]

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when it seemed they were studying him. It was a curious feeling. After so many years of being the one watching and studying from the dimly lit corners of taverns, to have the focus was an eerie feeling. Soft footsteps approached as the tall man spoke first. His accent was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. A lovely woman he'd met some seasons back spoke with the same twist on her words.

Orion looked up slowly, trying to hide the discomfort he experienced. His hand continued to throb, and the tightness in his thighs and calves from sitting in the armor was beginning to wear on the squire. He wouldn't waste the man's invitation to speak. The former doctor raised to a standing position to properly greet the stranger, offering him his right hand. "You caught me peeking, huh?" Grinning sheepishly, he looked fully on both he and the woman. He'd thought himself much more subtle fellow than what this man was making him out to be. He couldn't lie, it was hard not to gawk. Not only was she a vision of beauty, the way she moved about the stone garden speaking as though it was answering her words, well, Orion wasn't the only one who kept a close eye upon her.

He raised his eyebrows at Nya's question. He wasn't exactly hiding it well, but she was quite straightforward. He instinctively protected the injured hand from the unknown people, cradling tightly against his body. Those haunting pale green eyes bore into his soul as she studied him. It was disconcerting, it was unnerving. "Ah, yes, I trained a little too much last evening. I didn't realize the extent of what I'd done to myself until I took a moment for myself here in the gardens. Haven't had an opportunity to get it looked at. Please, worry not. I'm fine." Orion couldn't bring himself to look directly at Nya. There was something about her, and it couldn't quite put his finger on it. It felt as though he was gazing upon someone whose value in life was so much beyond his.

He felt . . . unworthy.

There was no time to wallow in confusion, for of more concern than Nya's presence was the statement Abashai had made. "And what tale do you hold," Orion asked cautiously. He'd normally find himself skeptical when people claimed to have something the knights needed to deal with. It was rarely anything of importance. Someone was offended, they'd gotten separated from their companion in the bazaar. Everything they had in their lives was the most important thing; everyone else could wait as far as they were concerned. Prior to joining the knights Orion hadn't realized just how demanding people could be. He'd rarely, if ever, called upon them. To see how people were was an eye opening experience.

Yet, even with those thoughts, he believed they truly had something worth sharing.

"Whatever it may be, I'm sure I can direct you to the right people. I'm Orion Michaels, squire of Captain Knight Dinah Lorene. I know, I'm not exactly what comes to mind, but I'm happy to help. " Perhaps Dinah would be able to aid these two strangers. She could certainly do more than the troubled squire could. He couldn't keep his life under control. What could he do for these travelers?

[Abashai]

As the young man stood to his feet amid the clink of metal armor, standing fully as tall as the Benshiran, Abashai's gaze darted back towards Nya. He caught the end of her conversation, the tendrils of her long mane teased by the breezes which whom she spake. The beings of air were attracted to Nya, she was chosen of Zulrav, marked and commissioned by the Storm God. The Kevlic's interactions with the winds had been a boon many times over during the past year, scouting terrain and whispering warnings to the Storm Warden. Moss-green eyes met his cool blue-green, and as she turned his way, Abashai's gaze returned to the knight. The Syliran coyly confessed his observations as well, as Nya drew near.

Though their eyes would not meet, the Benshiran knew Nya was assessing the stranger, discerning his scent, much more telling in some ways that visual inspection, and a sense Nya trusted as much or more than their eyes, and so did Abashai. His companion demonstrated no concerns over the man, and Abashai relaxed, if only a bit.

Curious was the dynamic between the warrior and the Kelvic, for all his effort to appear the opposite, the knight seem preoccupied with Nya, as if humbled simply by her presence. Nya did have a feral beauty, something Abashai remembered finding so appealing about her. But the Kelvic's demeamor was more curious and animal than elegant, and the knight's sudden shyness around her made Abashai dart a quizzical sidelong glance at the woman. Nya, for her part, addressed the immediate and obvious fact, he was hurt. The knight brushed off the apparent injury as a training incident, which Abashai found plausible.

Finally, the Syliran addressed Abashai. The man was a squire, not a full knight, but a willing aid who could get the two of them in the door, so to speak. The swarthy man gave a subtle nod of his head in official greeting. "I am Abashai, and this is Nya Winters. It is our pleasure to meet you, Orion Michaels." Abashai toned with sober congeniality. "But who we are is not as important as who we were." The statement was true, on many levels, and a slight smile graced Abashai's lips, though his eyes did not reflect it. "We are a year escaped from Ravok, fugitives from Black Sun and powerful Ravokian families. In that, we have a common enemy, the Knights and ourselves. We have a proposal that would benefit both parties, and bring woe to Ravok." A dark eyebrow raised over a crystalline aquamarine eye.

[Nya Winters]

Nya studied the knight with a tilt of her head and offered half a smile, something that was rare on her face these days. Her eyes conveyed no emotion though, not even as she glanced at Abashai and nodded to his words. But she had more to add, much more, and something in the knights eyes called to her sense of honesty. The kelvic rarely lied anyhow, she found it a troublesome habit in humans. "He means we seek Asylum. We are something of value to the people of Ravok, though they do not know this, and if they find out they will stop at nothing to get us back. We have important information that will lead to true power, power the Black Sun craves. It is time this power comes back into the world. Such things pick their own timing, but we wish to pick how and in who's hands it comes back into. This is power that can change the world. The type of power people write in books having a capital P. Do you understand?" Nya said softly, moving forward to stare into the man's eyes and slowly circle around him.

He had not always been a knight. His body wasn't exactly suited for it, though she could tell he was mid-transformation into a body that was stronger and more powerful. Graceful, beautiful, but he had the tinge of drink about him - faint - as if he was no stranger to a bottle. Lines crossed his face, from worry or laughter, and she wasn't sure which was true. She suspected worry, for he had a heaviness about his carriage that clued her in much the same way he moved as if not quite comfortable in his skin told her his body was in transition.

In many ways, the young knight and the pair from Ravok were alike, moving from one state to another, seeking a balance that wasn't there yet but could be envisioned. She glanced up at Shai and noted that he too was staring , dark eyebrows raised over his pale eyes. Her ex-bondmate was handsome in the light and taller than Orion, but so much darker than he used to be. Abashai was a force unto himself, dark and vengeful in Nya's eyes. He also moved like a predator now. He'd always been a warrior, but now more than ever his hands were stained in blood.

"A meeting sooner than later would be preferred, if you could help us acquire one." She said firmly, still circling the knight, still half lost in her examination.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion raised a suspicious eyebrow at this Abashai's story. He wasn't terribly familiar with the Black Sun, but he knew Ravok well enough. While his interaction with the city were few, they were polarizing. He was only on the path to knighthood because he'd helped apprehend a double agent from Ravok. That spy had led to a healthy distaste for the location, but on the other hand, Kyra had been from there. She was all that bad, but she had disappeared without saying goodbye..perhaps nothing good did come of there..

Still, the conversation was enough to take his focus from the troubles of his mind. No more Emily, no more Hadyn, no more Kyra, and no more pain.

Orion reached up with his uninjured hand to rub his hand across his rough stubble, blue eyes turning to Nya as she spoke. Everything that the pair said seemed to carry such weight and meaning. It felt like the struggles of the world sat upon them, and as though they'd experienced more in an encounter than he'd in his entire life of whining about unfairness. He shifted uncomfortably in his armor as she moved about him. He was being studied, auditioned to play some small part in this grand tale they weaved, but he was only a squire. "I-I've got a million questions, but I don't know that a billion answers would begin to cover the surface of what you claim. If it's true.."

If what they were saying was true, then the knights would absolutely want to get their hands on it, if just to prevent it from falling into the hands of a Ravokian. Did he take them to Dinah? Did they try and go and petition Grandmaster Dyres immediately?

"Follow me," he commanded softly, weary eyes looking between the two travelers before shifting to lead them from the gardens. "You know, this place commemorates those knights who fell protecting the city. You don't..you don't suppose this power could slow the addition of names here, do you?" He let out a quiet sigh before glancing back with a small smile. "If this power is as you all say, I probably couldn't pretend to comprehend, hmm?"

There was something about them, and he wasn't sure what it was. He didn't trust them, at least not entirely, at least not yet. They were two coming from Ravok with claims of a world changing power? It sounded like the things of fantasy. Who but the Gods and their champions could wield that kind of might? Perhaps there was one among the order who could validate their claims.

[Abashai]

While Nya stalked around the Knight, Abashai saw her for what she was. It was the forest cat that observed the younger man, her senses alive, sharp mind reading every tell his body revealed. Her instinct was to evaluate prey, but the Kelvic's understanding of humanity allowed Nya to assess other attributes as well, honesty, stability, weakness, strength. As she circled the squire, the forest cat expressed a more forthright verson of Abashai's cryptic explanation of their purpose in Syliras. While Nya moved, the Benshiran remained solidly still, though crisp eyes moved to keep appraised of every thing going on in the garden around them. Situational awareness was an habitual trait. Though he stood as the authority of Syliras, armed and armored before the dark Benshiran and plainly clad woman, Orion appeared to be the prey, and the civilians the predators.

Admittedly, the knight had been given a tale that anyone with good sense would find hard to swallow, and his qirked expression all but revealed his apprehension. Nya had certain powers of persuasion that she rarely employed, a magic hypnotism that could nudge the mind of a target in one direction or another. Abashai had no qualms about using such against the squire, if necessary. But patience would have her place, for Orion visibly swayed in his consideration of their request. Perhaps he would lean their way of his own volition.

Abashai's ocean green gaze drifted to Nya, feral moss green soaking in their prospect. Finally, the squire admitted the gravity of the odd couple's claim, and acquiesced to aid them. Abashai flashed a small, humorless smile to his ex-bondmate, falling in behind Orion. The warrior asked a pointed question of the man and woman, regarding the impact of their intentions upon the roll of names that the future would etch upon the stones of the memorial gardens. Shai's gaze again darted to Nya. Hopefully, what they created would not come near to the devastation of life Areesa's original creations wreaked.

"That may be true, Orion Michaels, we intend to aid Syliras. The power we are talking about can be used to make right many things as well, in the proper hands. You do well in helping us. As far as comprehending it?...not long ago, I could not have fathomed it myself. There are capacities in all of us that lie hidden, squire, who knows what yours may be? "