Flashback The Heart that Darkens

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
66 of the Day, Winter of 508 A.V.

The tall, gangly black-clad figure stood on the bow of the boat, ruby gaze scanning the dark city of Ravok patiently. After a moment, her eyes traveled down to the journal clutched in her left hand, ready to snap shut in an instant. "The city of Ravok is a dark place, drawing in the Nuit and the likes of the darkest sides that the peoples of Mizahar try desperately to hide."

As the words escaped her reddish lips, condensing into white fog before her face, she tilted her head, ebony locks coming to hang down, so that she could read the beautiful, scrawling script placed off to the side. Watch who you trust. The young Symenestra's head straightened, sighing gently.

The silk-bound journal snapped shut, before being placed back within her black silk knapsack. Neyasi Tillandsia returned her gaze to the city. "Sometimes I wonder if you're referring to Ravok, or the whole of Mizahar, Vordinan." She sighed, tightening her black silk cloak about her. I really need to get a thicker cloak. She thought, fighting against the shivers racking her body.

Neyasi watched the city coming closer, gathering conclusions, before she realized that she wasn't more than thirty or forty feet away. As the boat bumped against the docks, Neyasi turned around, in the direction of the gangplank. In a few long-legged steps, Neyasi found herself on the wooden docks, looking around her, and scrutinizing the environment.

[Venser Rush]

Dark lines would be visible underneath Venser's eyes as he looked into the mirror, a sigh escaping him. He had not slept properly in several days, the nightmares springing forth again, after several months of sweet salvation by means of distraction. Now, he found it to be impossible. It had only been a year since the oppressor, as Venser called him, had been destroyed, the newly formed scars upon his forearm an unforgettable reminder of both the freedom he now experienced and the power that hatred bred within a person. Not one to be sadomasochistic to the extent of living out a murderous, friendless life, the boy ignored the understanding, instead deciding much of his attention on the pursuit of control. To actively shape one's destiny, painting upon the tapestry of one's own life, was the greatest freedom that he was now entitled to. He had begun to do so, having learned some of what it is to join with the Flux, having tried afterwards to pull the djed from his soul, having a measure of success, but it was a slow progress. Lacking both a tutor and a true, dedicated book to teach him, Venser instead relied on his vague understanding and general knowledge. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind, Venser allowed a moment for him to decide where exactly he was going to go. A wooden ball was held in the boy's hand, a memento that he had made for his brother, though in his time of stress, he had taken to using it. Tossing it around was a way of calming him, even if the poorly made sphere did cut at his fingers occasionally. Venser was a master of pain. The boy's legs took him to one of the docks, Venser intent on finding an open space for him to reflect, to watch the waves of water, the ever-changing shoreline, and to, perhaps, find the glory of the God Harameus in the forever altering scope of events. His life was a prime example of the God's power in this world. When Venser arrived at the shoreline, his jaw would drop, maw agape as he saw the creature that had just come ashore. She was humanoid, of course, though her pale, almost ceramic-coloured skin reminded him of an overly large doll, the ruby colouration of her irises an extremely intriguing shade. He would examine her, noting that the material she wore was skin to armour, the material all set in a jet-black tone. His eyes widened for a moment before understanding came to him. A Symenestra! He'd never seen one in his lifetime, the city of Ravok consisting almost entirely of humans. He'd seen a Kelvic somewhere, but other than that, his experience had been comprised entirely of human beings. She obviously wasn't from around here, and curiousity compelled Venser to step forward, not considering a possible threat. "Hello, there. Are you a..." He cut himself off, deciding it would be rude if he had finished his question. "Anyway, I am called Venser. Would you care to introduce yourself?" Venser was rather awkward meeting new people, unused as of yet to doing so.

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
The young Symenestra's ruby gaze flicked to the left, observing the young man, hardly much more than a boy, who stood before her. For a few moments, she was undecided as to how she was to react to his chosen words of greeting. It took only a few quick observations for Neyasi to decide he posed no threat, though she'd been wrong before. But she chose to trust her instincts.

"Am I a Symenestra, you mean?" She asked quietly, one dark eyebrow rising higher than the other. She turned her body fully to face Venser, both pale, long-fingered hands holding her cloak tight to her body. "Yes. I am. My name is Neyasi." Neyasi paused. How to state her next question? "Do you live here?" She asked, gaze flicking to the buildings and waterways behind him.

Neyasi knew there had to be something here. The journal entry in her father's journal on the city of Ravok was long, and her father clearly had done a great deal here, and it had clearly served of some fascination to him. Besides, Vordinan had been trying to get her here. The least she could do to honor his memory was to complete the journey, and glean all she could from the city. And find my father. She added to the end of that train of thought.

[Venser Rush]

History and study of other cultures was not a subject he took to studying extensively, preferring to delve into the study of literature. He'd only learned to read about four years ago, deprived of the education given to his brother. But, in that time, he drove himself to success with the skill. He had learned, with help from Verin, a smattering of the Tongue of the Ancients, which had helped him learn about the Flux, as well. He'd not been surprised by the way he'd killed his father, just by the suddenness of it. "Neyasi? Such a strange name. Interesting." The young man was astounded that she'd made her way here, having heard from his brother how dangerous the outside world was. In the cities, they were safe, but how did she manage? "Maybe her appearance frightens people." It was understandable, seeing as those without the wit to imagine were fearful of that which they did not understand. It was the same closed-minded, fearful nonsense that spawned the discrimination against wizards. Venser nodded in response to the Symenestra's question, allowing the opportunity to take a better look at her. Her arms were longer in proportion to a human female's, her claws seemed both dangerous and interesting. But, she looked frail, much like the doll he had initially imagined. Her arms, long as they were, made the female look as if she were meant to be on all four limbs, like an animal. It was not ugly in any way, merely... curious. He would smile at the Symenestra for a moment before he replied, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And yes, I do live here. I have been in Ravok all of my life."

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
Neyasi watched him, her blood-red gaze watching him carefully. She nodded as he spoke once more. "I see." She said. In the back of her head, there was a niggling question that she couldn't dismiss, nor could she answer it. Why had the boy approached her?

In truth, Neyasi had never been raised to discern the advances of males from friendly conversation, nor had she been taught how to gain their attention. And it was at times like this, when she found herself speaking to a male undoubtedly close to her own age, that she wished she had.

The last thing she wanted was to end up in a fairly awkward situation.

"You would, then, perhaps know where I might find the most popular tavern or pub?" She asked. In her experience, searching for answers in the most popular, common gathering place was an excellent place to ask questions, and poke around. Of course, there was always the danger that Neyasi would be poking her nose where it wasn't wanted.

But that was a risk Neyasi was fully prepared to take.

[Venser Rush]

Considering how extraordinary of a creature she was, her request was surprisingly normal. Of course he knew. His father was known to frequent the town's tavern in his time alive, and Verin had taken an interest in going out to associate with the world, a task that Venser had not yet taken to. Far more intrigued in his studies, he only met the occasional fast friend, speaking for a time, but most were limited in the scope of their understanding. Their prejudices were base and at their nature, foolish. Venser would clench his fist for a moment before remembering that the Symenestra was there, nodding slowly in response to her question, "Yes, I do. I have been to the Malt House, which is the tavern closest to home for me. I would be more than happy to guide you there. I would caution you against it, but I am sure that you have your reasons for wanting to... mingle. To delve into the public forum was something that even Venser, a human and perfectly in line with the city of Ravok, was, for the most part, unwilling to do. Anti-social tendencies were long-standing, and besides... there was nothing to do with other people that he couldn't do with Verin, or couldn't enjoy better alone. But, there was something about strangers, foreigners to the city, that appealed to him. Perhaps it was a fresh start, or the fact that change and new was interesting, but it was easier that way for him. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he would look to the Symenestra again, his head tilting so that it nudged to his right, towards the pathway leading back to the city proper, "I can take you there, if you'd like."

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
Neyasi tilted her head, listening to him, watching him. She had once been told that most of the people of Ravok were ignorant. It had, of course, been Vordinan who had supplied her with this piece of information. But, this boy did not seem to be ignorant, in his speech, or in his manner, which led to Neyasi's next question; Could she trust him?

Upon her arrival at Sunberth a year ago, Neyasi had encountered some of the locals of the lawless city, and even thinking about it made the hairs on the back of her neck lift, simply because it had, in truth, been terrifying. It had only been when Vordinan had stepped in to save her from the accosting of a much older human male that Neyasi had actually felt safe.

Vordinan had once told her about Ravok. She could still remember that conversation. 'Ravok is a dangerous place, Neyasi. The citizens think it is safe and a good place, but, they are wrong. It is full of conspiracies and misleading organizations who would wish to squeeze them for every penny they have.' Thinking about Vordinan made her heart clench. And, of course, there was the note he'd left in her father's journal beside his entry on Ravok. Watch who you trust.

Neyasi peered at Venser more carefully. It did not seem to her that he was trying to mislead her. More... Like he just didn't know how to act. That in itself was curious enough, but Neyasi could sympathize. Making a final decision, she concluded that this boy really was of no threat.

"If you could take me there, that would be most appreciated." She said, giving a slight smile, and dipping her head.

[Venser Rush]

The idea of entering the tavern was not a good one for Venser. His father had been a suspected member of some terrorist organization striving to overturn the established Rhysol-worshipping order of things in the city, a sentiment that Venser, and his brother especially, disagreed with entirely. While not one to worship Rhysol, Venser did allude to him in his prayers, thanking him for the blessings that were placed upon the city of his choosing. But, the majority of his prayers were directed to Harameus. The God of Change was what Venser decided was the most applicable God in his life, having experienced the strength of change first-hand. Even now, though, Venser and Verin would occasionally pay for their father's dedication to Sylir, occasional glares pointed in their direction, though Verin was quickly proving the opinions about them wrong. Venser was also having his doubts about the Symenestra's trustworthiness. She was a stranger, and from what he could see, a natural-born killer. Long, clawed hands, supported by elongated limbs and a sleek frame, she could likely tear an ordinary human to ribbons in a matter of moments. Venser had, of course, learned to defend himself, if only just, following the death of his father, but still, the threat was real. He'd be sure to keep pace with her as they approached the Merchants' District, "We'll be there soon. In any case, if you do not mind me asking, what business does a Symenestra have in Ravok? I've yet to see one of your kind here." In fact, he would be surprised if more than a select few, mostly visitors to the city, had seen any at all. The city was almost entirely comprised of humans, those that weren't were oddities, looked down upon. Racism ran rampant in the city, the concept of equality was foreign. Citizens were treated fairly, most others were either enslaved or scoffed at. The life of a foreigner was not an easy one in the city of Ravok, which was, partly at least, why Venser took such an interest in them. Because they likely came into the city knowing this, yet decided to come anyway. This implied that their goals and objectives were of a higher order, one that they were willing to sacrifice something for. It intrigued him.

[Neyasi Tillandsia]

Neyasi Tillandsia

_
Neyasi frowned slightly, as they started to walk, mentally examining the question. It was not casual conversation. It couldn't be. The wording seemed too deliberate, and to the point. And it was understandable, as well. The boy trusted her as much as she trusted him. She forced herself not to smile wryly. Mutual. She thought, before pulling herself from the reverie of her thoughts.

Ignoring her guide would most likely end badly, and skipping around the question deliberately would not get her anywhere, except perhaps digging a deeper hole. So, to some level, it seemed she would have to answer the question. Neyasi's stomach flip-flopped. She didn't like the idea. Her father had undoubtedly had enemies on the surface world. It was the only explanation she could see as to why someone would magically ambush her and Vordanin.

In the end, it all comes down to trust. Perhaps if I leave out his name...? Deciding upon this, Neyasi wiped the thoughtful frown from her face, staring ahead for a few moments, deciding upon the wording of her next sentence or two. "You really must not get very many Symenstra here, do you?" She asked decidedly. Don't skip around it, you idiot. She reminded herself of her earlier conclusion.

"I'm looking for my father. He disappeared three years ago. Evidence points me towards Ravok. So here I am." She said, tightening her hold on her cloak. How can the surface-dwellers live with this constant cold? She thought irritably, doing her best to hide the shivers racking her frail body.

[Venser Rush]

A Symenestra disappearance three years ago? Evidence? Eyebrows arched as Venser stopped for a moment to look at the Symenestra. Was she cold? She was terribly frail looking... perhaps the armour she wore did little to protect her from the elements. He wondered to himself why she hadn't bought herself new clothing, despite being in a new climate. Disregarding it, he instead turned to the young woman's words, instead. She seemed to be hiding information, but it mattered little. She was, from what he could tell, being truthful with him. Venser was not the sort to bleed his heart out to a stranger, either, but at the very least, he could offer her guidance. "Three years ago? Such a cold trail. How unfortunate." There was a measurable amount of pity in the boy's voice, but it was unable to be articulated as a facial expression, the boy lacking the ability to truly empathize. He nodded slowly, processing the information still as he commented, "Three years ago... Well, as I've said that I've never seen a Symenestra, I can do little to help you. Perhaps the bartender, Grayson Falkes, will know more. I'd not speak to anyone else before him. He's a... pleasant sort, if anything." Venser had met the bartender on the occasion that both he and his brother would be taken out into the city, the man accounting their age as little more than an inconvenience. Venser was likely brought along only by Verin's pleas, but in public, Venser was safe from his father, so he willingly tagged along. The man had seemed more than happy to serve the patronage before he and Verin had sat at the table with their father, and despite their quiet chatter only to one another, the tender had complained twice about them. A more recent encounter with the man was far more civil, the man placing his palm upon Venser's shoulders, an almost thankful expression upon his features for having killed what Grayson likely perceived as treasonous, blasphemous cur, scum of the highest calibur. This was his father's legacy. Comparing the Symenestra's devotion to her father to his own, a bitter smile materialized upon his features, only to be replaced a moment later as they stood outside of the tavern, "Welcome to the Malt House. was all he could manage as his eyes set immediately towards the bar, checking to see if Grayson was present. He was, of course.