Completed The Precedent

[Caesarion]

3rd of Spring, 514 AV
20:00

The people were intoxicating. In one way or another, you could grow addicted to them; you could come to find yourself obsessed, enticed by whatever they could offer. Many, if not all, would offer you nothing. Similarly to how you saw them, they saw you only as benefit and self-interest. That was what Caesarion enjoyed the most about everyone. All of the people in the world only gave a damn about them, them, them. The more he lived, the more he noticed. Even he, who had found the light in an unknown place, could only admit to that writhing imperfection in his heart. And there were many more imperfections. One, for example, was his inability to raise or keep money. He couldn't ever make a damn saving -- if he had it, he'd use it, like he was about to do right now. Right . . . now, at this very moment. He had coins in his pockets, and a little pouch within a pouch. Money was practically overflowing in a way that the crooks would enjoy, but side-by-side were Max and Argos, and he himself had grown to be quite the intimidating fellow since coming to be self-dependent.

There were few in this Kingdom who would act when their lives were wholly and most limitlessly at risk. Well, except for him, probably. He could remember now that he himself had tried thievery to spare him the endless grind of the hunt, only to be spared by the whim of some . . . Akalak. Those were some crazy days, but he'd gotten past them. He felt strong now, more empowered, and worth more but in a way that did not permit entitlement -- he did not want to degrade himself with acts that only benefited him. He accepted his inborn selfishness, but he'd built a long road to get away from it. Now he only needed to walk it.

Out of the blue, his furry companions started to bark and growl at some place nearby. It was veiled by curtains, though the smell was so obnoxious that it didn't need a canine's perception to clarify: there were dogs here, smelly and probably not very well fed. But they were here, and so they were on sale. And so he could buy one, which he hadn't really considered before, but it felt like a good idea. Max almost got injured the other day, and Argos was starting to seem weak on one knee. Perhaps they were overworked, much like Caesarion was (at least in his upper class perception), and needed a break. Or at least a helping hand that didn't only gesture, speak softly and put deer into a trance. The trance wasn't always . . . enough, for some creatures. Some had a great resolve to live, and so the dogs would have to act like wolves, and bloody themselves and their prey.

A third. He could only think about that now, what a cure it might be. And so, he stepped into the little tent, the bright light of the torches searing the sight from his eyes. For a moment. When that receded, he could see a great many people in here -- the peasants who took care of the animals. None of them seemed very appealing from first sight, and he had natural preconceptions about what that might mean. They were dirty, unkempt, and just naturally not very keen on one's eyes. Their dogs were about the same, though he saw potential in each one. There was one -- it looked like a dog he'd used to own as a child. It was a very high-class breed, but one ultimately designed for a spoil; the hunt. It was selectively bred to be a killer, and his family of three could only make room for one such creature. He explored his other options, but they did not appeal at all.

Only that one dog, who was ridiculously overpriced, but so enticing. He began to ask around -- about medical conditions, age, status, training. He asked whatever he could, looking for what good he could find to justify the buy that would leave him starving for perhaps at least a week of the long season.

[Aoren]

Aoren made his way through the Great Bazaar of Syliras. It wasn’t as crowded as it normally would be during the peak market hours but there were still a good amount of people busying themselves with one activity or another. He assumed that a lot of them were the merchants tending to their kiosks as the business hours wound down to a close. He had just recently finished his work at the Stormhold Salves shop. The day had been filled with working on food preserves and various ointments that needed to be restocked as the season rush settled in. In the years that he had worked at the shop he had noticed a pattern in the way people bought the potions and poultices available. In the Summer things were focused mostly on purchasing creams and salves to aid in skin health. In the Fall things centered around food preservation. In the Winter the store produced a lot more common illness remedies and in the Spring his work consisted mostly of a combination of the three.

His time in Syliras however was drawing to a close. The winds of change were blowing for Aoren and as he turned his sight more toward the horizon he began to realize the weight of his decision to leave. As this realization hit him coupled with a few incidents out in the wilderness around the city he came to the conclusion that he needed a trusted companion to accompany him wherever he went. As he walked through the Bazaar the smell of animals caught his attention. Once those scents hit his nose he knew he was on the right path. Veering away from some of the other merchants who seemed convinced Aoren had an interest in fine jewelry or exotic fruits he made his way to a larger tent where he assumed was housed the animals in question. Stepping through the tent flap he was met with a hearty greeting.

“Ah! Welcome! Welcome! How may I help you?” Aoren looked up into the face of an elder gentleman. He had a slightly wrinkled face. He was several heads shorter than Aoren but he seemed confident in his movements as he reached up to pet a bird perched on one of the tent posts.

“Good evening, I am looking to buy a dog.” The merchant perked up. His eyes zeroed in on Aoren studying him for a moment before nodding sagely.

“Yes, of course you are. Companion or guard dog?” Aoren thought for a moment. He was going to be traveling soon. The road was a dangerous place filled with mysteries that were as wondrous as they were lethal. At the same time he didn’t want a mindless drone that only killed on command. He knew a few hunters who found that their animal companions were far more preferable to human ones.

“A little of both if I’m going to be honest.” The merchant nodded. He scanned the myriad of cages around his tent before gesturing for Aoren to follow him. He obliged making his way through the ramshackle pathway formed by the wall of cages containing animals of all sizes and shapes. Most of the beasts he saw were quite common. There were a few however that made Aoren arch an eyebrow in curiosity but he ignored them as he was lead through the tent by its keeper.

“Will you be hunting?” Was he? Aoren had very little experience with a bow and arrow. It was something that he contemplated taking up quite often. He had very little skills in the way of hunting but he was interested in becoming knowledgeable on the subject. The merchant gave him an inquiring look. Aoren almost told him that he most certainly would be hunting but that would be something of a lie.

“I know almost nothing about hunting but I intend to learn about it.” The elder gentleman nodded. He pursed his lips scanning the cages before moving up toward a few of them.

“Are you starting a family at all?” Aoren shook his head. He wasn’t yet at a point in his life where he was even considering settling down to start a family. The idea of a wife or even a lover didn’t fit into the scope of things at this point in time.

“No. I will be traveling for the foreseeable future.” Another nod from the merchant gave Aoren the feeling that he was compiling some sort of profile. That made him a little more comfortable about his decision to invest in an animal companion. The merchant walked up to a dark corner of the tent. Aoren had to squint to even see that there were a few cages lined up against what he assumed was a wall of the castle.

“Here we are. I think you would be most suited for one of these canine companions.” Aoren peered into the darkness a bit more closely.

“I don’t see anything.” The merchant smiled. He gestured for Aoren to wait one moment then walked off. He could only assume that the animal keeper was going to fetch a light source. He heard the man greet what must have been another customer before returning. He was carrying a torch. Slowly he held it up toward the shadowed corner illuminating the cages there. Aoren blinked.

As the darkness was dispelled the light revealed the interior of the cages. Inside were magnificent beasts with obsidian coats and eyes as red as blood. Some of them were pacing, others were staring at both Aoren and the merchant attentively. There was even a kennel of pups that were eerily quiet. Aoren turned to the merchant who had a knowing smile on his face. It was then that the young man realized his mouth was hanging slightly open. He quickly closed it.

“What are they?” The merchant beamed with pride.

“They are called Bozderon Shadow Dogs. Their fur enables them to blend into the darkness. Those red eyes of theirs can see the heat of a man in even the deepest darkness. Loyal, protective, intelligent and fierce, I would recommend a purebred for you but given your needs I have something else in mind.” He stepped up to one of the kennels containing pups. Aoren looked between them and the silent adult dogs nearby. From the differences in appearance he could tell that they were mixed breeds of the pure version. As the merchant neared the pups they began to yip excitedly. The elder man chuckled making shushing noises as he opened the cage to pick one up. He returned with the pup wiggling under one arm he extended the pup to Aoren.

“Here we go.” Aoren took the pup in his hands. It was bigger than some of the other pups that he could see. Its fur was as dark as pitch but its eyes were not the blood red of the purebreds. By the shape of its muzzle and the slight mane around its neck he would have almost pegged this to be a wolf pup but it’s fur was sleeker and there was a glimmer in its eyes that didn’t seem quite a wild. He looked to the merchant curiously as the pup yipped and wiggled in his hands.

“He’s a mixed breed that one. His father is a purebred Shadow Dog. His mother was a Zypherian Sled Dog. As you can see he inherited his father’s dark coat and his mother’s size but he doesn’t have the eyes of a purebred nor will he likely have the brutal endurance of his mother. He should grow to have just as keen of senses as any other dog though and he’s a smart one. Smart enough to be an excellent companion and loyal protector.” Aoren looked at the pup. He had stopped wiggling and was staring at Aoren curiously. His head was quirked to the side with his ears perked. The dog leaned forward to sniff at Aoren’s nose before licking it suddenly.

“He’s perfect. How much?” Aoren smiled bringing the pup closer to his chest. He ran his fingers over the dog’s head petting him softly. The merchant smiled nodding.

“Wonderful! He’s trained up enough not to run off beyond that you’ll have to teach him yourself. I suggest you start early. A purebred Shadow Dog is about forty mizas and a purebred Zypherian Sled Dog runs around fifty. Because this pup is a mixed breed I think I can bring that combined price down to about half. What do you say to forty-five gold mizas?” Aoren thought for a moment. The prince sounded more than fair. He tucked the pup under an arm cradling it gently before extending a hand to the man.

“Deal.” The merchant shook Aoren’s hand firmly.

“Excellent! Now then, let’s go back to the front and get this all sorted out. Shall we?” The animal keeper turned to lead him back to the forward part of the tent. He stopped turning slightly to look between Aoren and the pup.

“Have you decided on a name?” Aoren looked at the pup under his arm. It peered up at him curiously. Aoren was suddenly reminded of a lesson he’d once had when he was much younger. He recalled his mentor, Leoshan, speaking in a language that was far beyond the grasp of what he could understand. He just knew that the word he’d heard then seemed to fit. He had no idea of its meaning but as he looked at the obsidian pup it stuck.

“Isikai.” The merchant seemed puzzled but nodded his approval. The pup seemed to approve as well as his ears perked up. With that Aoren followed the merchant rounding the corner only to come face to face with none other than…

“Caesarion.”

Note-45 GM for puppy

[Caesarion]

This was something strange to say, but after learning hypnotism extensively, sometimes Caesarion couldn't help but phase in and out like an astral walker or someone beyond the normal. It wasn't quite as magical -- it was more like spacing out than anything, but it had started to happen all the time. He was constantly turning everything into a process of repetition. Everything he did, in his mind, was becoming so common that it lost any meaning. It was like looking into a mirror for hours, and then simply not being able to see your face, or blurring it out. One of the methods of training hypnosis, for most, but for him it'd become something that ran his life. He had looked into this dog's eyes -- this black creature with the jagged tail, and had completely lost his focus for quite some time. It wasn't until, unfortunately, he heard a voice that he snapped out of his mundane fantasy. The voice was barely recognizable, as it'd been some time since he'd heard it. When he did hear it, it spoke softly and very forward -- yet he remembered lacing every word, in his mind, with a poison. He'd made this man to something he wasn't, a moral defender and everything Caesarion feared to see.

Thoughts rushed through his mind, but his eyes kept trained on the animal. He did not move, or think much, or try and acknowledge the presence. That was a whole challenge of its own. When it really came down to it, though, he'd grown up and changed. He'd already forgiven himself for how he acted when he came to Syliras, and so it wasn't his regret that stopped him. It was a simple question -- will things change again? Would speaking to Aoren now return something that was lost to his life? Was it really worth it to try and make amends, or was it best to stay in silence? He'd finally gotten some stability in his life, content to hunt and to run with his dogs day-in and day-out. He'd met friends that were good to him, and people who had sought after him in the night. And so once more, he questioned it -- is it worth it?

No matter what, he decided, it was best to at least remove the regret. He'd thought often and long about what he'd do if he saw this guy again, and always at the forefront of the list was apologize. For everything. Oh, it would be hard to do, but worth it at least. He closed his eyes for a moment, sight of the blue irises being cut off from him. When he opened them again, he was looking at Aoren's face. It seemed different, in a way. Stronger, maybe, or more resolved. It was like Caesarion's face -- maybe they'd grown from the mutual, unpleasant experience. It was unknown, only a guess that anyone could garner by a simple glance. As much as he'd like to seem mystic, he wasn't a clairvoyant -- probably never would be.

His two dogs, Argos and Max, had been chained up in the corner to prevent them from harassing the cages of the other dogs. From where they were, they stared at Aoren with inquiring eyes, Max's tail wagging and Argos appearing mostly apathetic. The man of Ravok looked back at them, perhaps to check if they were okay or to see if they could really understand emotion to the depth people said they could. If they could, then they would understand how difficult it was to be here at this very moment, and why he essentially refrained from saying anything to the guy who'd called to him for. . . probably too long. With his last glance at them, though, his attention became devoured by the man, Aoren Skycrown. His name was that of fantasy, and that's what he had become to Caesarion over time; a myth. He'd forgotten that he might one day actually get stuck talking to him. And damn, it was really hard.

"Hey," he started. Not exactly articulate, but Aoren wouldn't expect an entry from the encyclopedia of everything in a situation like this. "I'm uh, looking for a dog. A new friend for my little guys. Didn't expect you to be here." That was for sure. But he supposed the man had the qualities of a dog lover -- he was exceptionally righteous, he had a protective instinct, and he was more connected to nature than to other people (at least in Caesarion's mind). He'd suddenly wished that he'd gotten into cats instead, as if to prevent this encounter from ever happening.

[Aoren]

Aoren was…conflicted.

Seeing the man that was in front of him had shocked a response out of him. He had said Caesarion’s name purely because it was a knee jerk reaction. The sight of him had wiped Aoren’s mind blank of anything but his name. That was what Caesarion had become. A name linked to unpleasant complications. He recalled the near intimacy that he’d shared with this man and it had left Aoren far more cautious with his feelings than he’d been before. In spite of all of that though Aoren could comfortably say that he’d grown from his experiences with the Ravokian man standing awkwardly before him.

Isikai barked. The high pitched yip of the pup drew Aoren from his stunned thoughts. He gently placed the wiggling pup down on the stone floor. Isikai circled around Aoren’s feet but, true to the merchant’s word, did not wander very far. He nodded to the merchant who seemed puzzled by their stunned interaction.

“Oh, uh, right.” Aoren fished into the pouch on his hip withdrawing the agreed upon amount of mizas for the man depositing them into his hand. Aoren made a mental note to replenish the amount of mizas he had on hand. He didn’t often carry too much but he’d come to the Great Bazaar knowing that this would be an expensive venture. It was proving to be costly in more than just monetary ways which was more than Aoren had expected. As the animal keeper took his leave, having been paid for his services, Aoren eyed Caesarion. He took a deep breath steadying himself, holding back the emotions that wanted to boil to the surface. When he was a bit less prone to make a fool of himself he spoke though his voice was still laden with underlying emotion.

“I could say the same. It’s been a while.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the other man’s name out loud again. This moment felt almost like a dream…or a nightmare. Aoren had always known that the possibility of bumping into Caesarion again was very real. As he looked back he saw the Ravokian man as little more than an out of place child grasping for attention in a strange new place. Aoren had reached out to him out of a longing for companionship. There was something different about the way in which Caesarion carried himself though. His back was a little straighter. He seemed more on-guard.

“I…” Aoren didn’t know what to say at the moment. He was drawing a blank. How did one pick up after the way they had ended things? They had hardly parted on good terms. “I needed a traveling companion.” That seemed like a good place to start.

Aoren knelt down reaching over to pick up Isikai. The pup had decided to get into a staring match with a strange looking lizard the name of which escaped Aoren at the moment. When the Drykas picked up the dog it wiggled a little before contenting himself with sniffing Aoren’s boot. He pet the pup as a means of channeling his emotions. There was something therapeutic in that simple act.

“This little guy seemed like the perfect one. I’m about to head to Zeltiva. I…” He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Aoren chose not to look at Caesarion. He focused his attention on the pup that was now doing his best to figure out a way to get Aoren’s boot off of his foot. “…I need a change. I need to see what more the world has to offer besides stone walls and armored knights. I’ve always talked about going to Zeltiva. Now I am. I leave very soon.”

He hadn’t realized just how much he’d been in need of change. Aoren loved Syliras. It was a place where Hope could be rekindled in the right circumstances but he was beginning to feel as if he’d lost a bit of himself in the seclusion of the stone walls of the Fortress City. There were numerous reasons why he was leaving, Caesarion was part of them but he was not the determining factor.

“H-how have you been?” With that he looked up into Caesarion’s eyes forcing himself to stop avoiding the fact that the man was standing right in front of him.

[Caesarion]

It was, after about two or three seconds, quite apparent that Aoren was feeling just as awkward as Caesarion -- probably even more, considering he was the one who'd gotten stormed out on, last time they met. While the man from Ravok wanted to make amends, perhaps Aoren wanted to avoid him. He couldn't really tell; he didn't know what was up or down with this guy, and that was accounted to the fact that he couldn't really get to know him at all before they were ripped apart by . . . circumstances. Caesarion's father had died, and he left, and then everything just went to hell. The peace he'd found in Syliras crumbled to dust, and he needed to rediscover himself, once more. It just so happened that he did so quite weakly, a way you could pity. It was difficult for the luxurious and the entitled to show strength when it was needed. Only someone like his brother could manage that feat, as he was more of a crime lord than a noble gentleman.

It was definitely funny, though. It was literally funny just how things turned out; he was stuck in a smelly tent, dogs barking and whimpering, and he could barely look at the man's face, and vice-versa. If he'd known it'd get like this, he probably never would have stepped into the Sacred Arch. What did he even go there, for, anyway? He was looking for a relief. He was looking for pleasure, to attract and be attracted. He was there for the same reasons one would go to a tavern -- to lose himself. It was an adventure, and one that ended poorly and without gain. Knowing that, he could understand why things failed the way they did. Reflection was probably the best way to discover anything that involved one's self. He learned that in the months after, where he spent his time praying and asking for the truth. He asked for a slew of things; forgiveness, hope, and a sign. He'd taken small little things as his signs, and had found hope in the mundane. He forgave himself.

This was, on second thought, his moment. It was a beautiful opportunity to show something he'd never shown: the ability to admit his wrongness. The ability to show compassion for someone else. Everyone had always been regarded in self-interest; how they could benefit him, entirely expendable once they could no longer do so. Aoren was probably just another man in that game of his, but he knew now how insidious he had been. That game could end today, if he just let it be known, then slain. "It really has been," he said. His eyes were less fidgety, more focused. He tried to show his charisma; he smiled, stood straight, tried to keep eye contact. It was difficult with Aoren looking all over the place, but eventually balance was restored.

"I needed some companions too -- that's why I got these little guys. This one," he pointed to a black dog, "is Argos." Beside him was a mix of black and brown, he was large but almost hound-like in his body type. He seemed more intimidating by merit than Argos, but he was the sweeter of the two, and you could notice it at very first glance. "The other is Max." With that being said, he followed the movements of Aoren's new animal companion. It was small and cute, but probably quite a breed considering the money he'd just saw him hand the merchant. Like in all things, Aoren would probably make the clever choice in his buy. Caesarion sort of just chose the animals that he took a spiritual liking to -- the way they both looked at him, when he approached their cages for the first time, told him something. He just knew that they would have to be his, otherwise no dog could be.

"What's his name?" He asked. Somehow, he'd grown excited by the addition of a new companion into this conversation. Even though Aoren and he were essentially strangers to one another at this point, his memories of a more endearing time left him feeling like somehow this dog was a part of his life. Like he was connected to him by an invisible string. He liked that feeling, although he'd probably come to regret it later when, surely, Aoren decided he didn't want to see Caesarion or talk to Caesarion. He knew it'd come. It was already here, but it'd come on stronger and more fiercely in time. This man . . . he could feel it. He didn't want to be a part of the Ravokian's life. He felt quite betrayed by him, in the past.

He stopped for a moment when he heard him speak of Zeltiva. Yes, he always knew he wanted to go. In fact, he'd assumed until this very moment that Aoren had probably already left. But, he didn't, he was only still talking about it. Maybe something kept him back here, or maybe he just wanted to be ultimately prepared. Syliras was a great city, safe and strong. Everywhere outside of it was a hell of its own; a warzone, death, slavery, carnage, diseases and all the creatures of the black abyss. Of course, his thirst for knowledge and enlightenment was strong, and so he would leave. Caesar always knew that.

The man's smile became very chameleon, shining brightly in light of some words and then disappearing altogether at some. Aoren leaving made his smile fade, as somehow he felt like that was perhaps a horrible thing. Like he would never get a chance to redeem himself. Like the memory of him would fester in his mind forever if he could not get a second chance to be his friend. That was painful and until now, he'd thought it would be a truth he just had to live with. Now, he deluded himself by trying to belief that Aoren could be fond of him once again. He remembered being very important to the Drykas, and that made him very happy. Those days were over, but he could at least try to re-imagine them.

"I hope you find happiness in Zeltiva," he told him. It was almost bold to say, considering the tense air they had been breathing. It was hard to speak as if he could be happy for Aoren, after all of this. But he did want his happiness, even if that meant a loss of opportunity for Caesarion. "I first dreamed of coming here through standing over the dead body of a slave. I searched for a life that was free, safe, where everyone could be their own person and live however they wanted to. Then I remembered this place, a city scorned by my people, but only because they feared a place where people could be free. I've found happiness here, more than I've ever had in Ravok. Change is good. These walls can't hold a guy like you forever, and I'm glad that you're finally breaking free. I'm happy for you."

He had gotten very involved, speaking freely about the violence of his home. He spoke almost as if the man cared to hear his story, when in truth he just didn't know what Aoren thought of him anymore. He could only be at his best, so as to not hope for the worst.

"I've been good. Really happy, proud, and different. A little tired, though! Never had to work for anything in Ravok, now I have to work for everything. I sort of miss the entitlement." His smile returned.

[Aoren]

“Isikai. His name is Isikai.” Aoren gently pat the pup’s head earning an affectionate nuzzle from the dog for his troubles. The gesture brought a smile to the Drykas man’s face. He looked over at Max and Argos admiring the dogs from afar. Nodding, Aoren rose to his feet allowing Isikai to continue sniffing around. He could tell already that he had bought a very curious dog. With time that curiosity could be trained to become very useful. Aoren just needed to figure out how to do it. It would be a work in progress for them both, human and canine.

“I don’t know exactly what language that is but my old mentor once used the word. It stuck out in my mind so I chose to use it.” He folded his arms over his chest regarding Caesarion for a moment. As the both of them stood there working past the awkwardness of the situation several things went through Aoren’s mind. He questioned whether or not he had it within him to stand there speaking meaningless platitudes, exchanging pleasantries or beating around the very large bush in the room. There was truly no sense in avoiding. It was plain to see that all that was running through Aoren’s head was also running through Caesar’s.

“I don’t know what I am going to find in Zeltiva, but I’m going to find something. Something different.” That was all he wanted at the moment. He wanted change. Too long had he stood idle in the walls of Syliras closing himself off from the world too afraid to venture beyond the safety of the Fortress City but always dreaming of the places beyond it. The truth of the matter was that he had never been ready. He had never been prepared. He was now. He had been through enough in the past year to ready himself for what troubles may lay ahead on the road he was about to take. Whether or not he would survive those troubles was another matter entirely but he would face them nonetheless.

As he stood there listening to some of Caesarion’s inner most thoughts Aoren couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride in the other man’s achievements. When he’d arrived in Syliras, Caesarion had practically jumped at every shadow he’d come across. He had been flippant, a smart ass and a man naïve to the true hardships of the world. Aoren knew of his life in Ravok. The Drykas man could pass no judgment upon him for his upbringing. In reality he knew only what Caesar told him of the city or what very, very little was ever spoken about it in whispers.

“I am glad that you have found happiness.” He reached out. He reached out almost as if to place a hand on Caesarion’s shoulder. He hesitated then let his hand drop to his side. “Listen, Caesar…” Aoren sighed.

“We were a pair doomed to fail. Not because of you. Not because of me. We were doomed because neither of us was ready for the other. I’m leaving Syliras because I can’t stand to stare at these walls anymore. I’m leaving because I want to learn and because I will journey to my homeland after that. I need to find answers I’ve been too afraid to seek most of my life.” He looked down at the Gnosis that rest on the back of his right hand. It would have been easy to just look. There were times when he sincerely wanted to but he didn’t feel that was the answer he needed.

“I can’t do that here. Will I be gone forever?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on what I find. The way we parted…I…” He hesitated for a moment before gaining his resolve and pushing forward. “…it hurt. I won’t deny it but I learned from it too.”

“Where that leaves us?” He gave Caesarion a small smile. It was a little out of place but there was a glimmer of something meaningful in Aoren’s eyes. “I don’t entirely know but I hope it’s not a bad place.”

[Caesarion]

Isikai. It was a nice name, masculine and exotic in its own right. It was very... Aoren, if that made any sense. Like there was no surprise at all that he'd use a name like that. As for the mentor, he wondered if he was speaking of that lady who'd been teaching him the beginnings of salves and whatnot. Caesarion only met her once, and she was quite memorable, enough so that he'd recall her even now, nearly a year past. Either way, it didn't matter. The name of the dog didn't mean anything, and neither did the dog at this point, save for in one very important factor. Isikai was a symbol, like Argos and Max were. He was a symbol of loneliness, of the desire to have something to hold on to in a merciless environment. Caesarion bought these dogs to quell a longing. It was ironic that they'd be an instrument with which he could see Aoren once again.

Zeltiva was a great city, like Syliras. Perhaps even greater. It was filled with knowledge and amusement, a place for one with a philosopher's heart to land. He remembered sitting in a wooden chair, with Aoren beside him, and talking about that place. How he'd like to go with Aoren, when the time came. How he'd be excited to see such a place. And he was still excited, and still hopeful, but he knew where the line would be crossed. Zeltiva was a dream that he could imagine in his prayers and in his sleep, but Syliras was the reality that he'd fought hard to keep alive. He doubted that he could change to suit the needs of another place. In truth, he was aware that he couldn't even blend with the Sylirans. They all . . . looked at him quite strangely.

He didn't say anything about how Aoren wanted to find something. It was simple enough to realize what type of person he was, and so he didn't need to acknowledge his wanderlust when it presented itself. He was, after all, a Drykas. Right?

The larger man was reassuring in many ways. He told him that he was glad of Caesarion's situation, which was something of a relief. The fact that he could be glad for him meant that he still cared, even if only a little. When Caesarion first made the mistake of ruining their relationship, a large part of it was done in response to what he believed was Aoren's apathy. He didn't think he meant anything anymore, which drove him insane -- in Caesarion's mind, Aoren was the only one who might care. With him gone, there was no compassion, and therefore no hope. Just hearing something that might finally put that hopelessness to an end was a great relief. "Thank you," he responded, quickly. It was spoken quietly, as if to not be heard. Whether it was or not didn't matter.

Some words afterward . . . stung, a bit. He already knew that they didn't have a chance, at least way back then. Aoren was perhaps only recovering from his own pain, and Caesarion was obliged to destroy himself whenever he had the opportunity. He was spoiled and naive, and Aoren was lost in a different world. Neither of them really did have what was required to work, the Ravokian especially. Things had changed, definitely. Caesar knew what real hardship was, and also the limits of the human mind. He didn't expect others to bend to his will anymore. He wasn't a noble, just a man who waved talismans and liked to run around with dogs.

Honestly, the more Aoren spoke, the more difficult this became. At first it was actually quite easy, he just wanted forgiveness. He could get that in a simple way or a complicated way, but no matter what he knew Aoren would find it in his heart. Now, he wasn't sure what was left. He wasn't sure what he wanted or how to get it. He didn't know if he wanted to be his friend again, or something more again, or to ask him if he could join him across the world. He felt like this was the opportunity of a lifetime, or the rejection of a millennial. But even so, that meant that there was a straightforward choice before him, and he would resolve to choose: either bravery, or cowardice.

No matter what Aoren said, he could never be inflicted as much disappointment as if he never asked.

"It leaves us where we want it to, Aoren," he told him. "There's only a little while before you're gone, right? And you might never come back. There's not going to be a divine sign pointing back to me, and no one's going to give you an answer but you. So we have to decide, before you go -- what do we really want?" It was an ultimatum, one that he would only ever dare consider, knowing that this might be the last time he could ever make it. The last time he could ever see Aoren again. Even with all of the people surrounding them and giving them strange and confused eyes, he couldn't let it slip. "I just know that if things end the way they are, I'll always think about it. It'll be years and it'll still be on my mind. I'll always find myself wondering how you are, and regretting the way I acted. I'll wish that I had a second shot, and that's what I wish right now. I want to go to Zeltiva. It might sound insane, but so was wanting to come to Syliras, and I don't regret that decision." He made his intentions clear, knowing they were likely impossible to accommodate. It was fine. Speak now or forever hold your peace, right?

[Aoren]

It took a few moments for Aoren to process what just transpired. He stood there staring at Caesarion uncomprehending of his words. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. The man who he wasn’t entirely certain of his feelings for had just asked if he could accompany him on the road to Zeltiva. Aoren had heard of an out-of-body experience before. He’d heard that it felt as if time itself slowed to a crawl and everyone was in perfect stillness. Aoren felt none of that.

He felt as if he’d just been submerged beneath a waterfall. There was a ringing in his ears. His heart felt as if it had just decided to go sprinting across the Syliran Fields as it pounded within his chest. He didn’t quite know how to respond with the abruptness of the question. Caesarion’s intention were perfectly clear. He wanted a second chance. He wanted to be able to rebuild the bridge he’d burned.

Aoren just didn’t know if that was a bridge he’d be willing to cross.

Isikai must have sensed Aoren’s dilemma. The pup pawed at Aoren’s leg drawing his attention. The onyx fur of the dog seemed to draw in the looming darkness of the tent. Isikai whined then barked before dropping onto his forepaws in front of Aoren wagging his tail in the air. The pup then darted over to Caesarion repeating the motions trying to get someone’s attention. Aoren managed a smile. He knelt down picking up the dog ruffling the fur on his head as he squirmed.

There had been a number of times when the Drykas man had considered searching for a partner to travel with. He had settled on simply traveling in the company of one of Leo Valini’s caravans as it set out for Zeltiva on the fifteenth day of the season. It seemed as if his patron goddess had sent him the answer he’d been searching for albeit in an unexpected way. He sighed.

“Travel with you to Zeltiva, eh?” Cobalt blue eyes met olive green. He searched the depths of those irises searching for some hidden agenda or an underlying purpose to this ultimatum. If there were any, Aoren couldn’t find them. Caesarion’s eyes seemed filled with as much trepidation as his own. “I had been planning on taking the Kabrin Road in the company of one of Leo Valini’s caravans. It might be nice to see something of a familiar face.” He still wasn’t entirely sold on this idea but maybe this was a chance for him to help guide someone in need.

Caesarion had changed since the last time Aoren had seen him. He was more straightforward. There was a look of strong conviction on his face where there hadn’t been before. The young man who he had met at the Sacred Arch Hot Springs was still there. He had just done some growing up. Isikai began tugging on the sleeve of Aoren’s shirt nipping at his arm and pawing his chest in an attempt to play. Aoren grabbed the pup’s muzzle gently shaking it with his fingers and tickling beneath Isikai’s jaw. The mixed breed huffed and sneezed shaking his head back and forth rapidly drawing an amused chuckle from Aoren. He looked up from his dog to Caesarion.

“Do you have travel gear?”

[Caesarion]

For a while, it seemed, there was just silence. It was like the moment where the sun rose and the sky took a great deep breath. The silence made him tense, a little worried, but mostly he held steadfast. He was certainly expecting for the man to say no, and he was entirely ready for it. What made him tense was the slight possibility that he would say yes. If he did, then Caesarion's life would change entirely. He'd say goodbye to Syliras, to his friends here, to his home and everything he'd built. But that was alright, he was still young. He could build it all again in Zeltiva, when and if he went. Plus, he'd have a helping hand -- Aoren. In that regard, though, he wasn't sure exactly how things would turn out yet. He wasn't sure if he'd really grown all that much. I mean, could a minor metamorphosis shape such a wholly different outcome from one that was a complete cataclysm? He was stronger than he'd ever been, but he was far from being a ward of virtue and temperance. He would just have to make sure that his imperfections did not come into practice.

The man's dog seemed quite unnerved, as they were, and it eventually came to running back and forth between them. He wasn't sure what exactly it wanted, though Argos seemed disturbed by its frantic moving and started to whimper loudly. The Ravokian turned around and gave the dog a . . . look, and the crying was silenced. Unlike with Aoren and his fresh-faced pup, Caesarion had been with these dogs for a year. They both loved him and feared him, and knew what he wanted when he wanted it. Shushing them required nothing more than a glance.

Back to silence, again, after the whimpering stopped. Eventually, though, Aoren seemed to have his thoughts fully gathered -- he sighed, and then he spoke. Travel with you to Zeltiva, eh? It wasn't exactly an affirmative, but he could already feel the words climbing to outright approval. As long as it wasn't a no, then it was probably a yes. Aoren was a very generous person, with his patience and his heart. He might have not thought it, but Caesarion knew. If he was not that way, then he wouldn't still be here. He'd be gone, far away from the slaver and his pride. "Yeah. Travel with me, to Zeltiva." His eyes were inquiring, he awaited an answer. And then, as far as he could tell, he got it. Leo Valini's . . . caravan, and familiar faces. Something like that. All he could really hear was the wailing 'yes' hidden within the stretches of his words.

Of course, the relief was abruptly ended when a rather terrifying question was posed -- did Caesarion have travel gear? "W-well, I mean... I have scale armor, enough to buy food, and if not I can hunt it... but that's pretty much it. I'm honestly not aware of what I'll need. When I came here from Ravok I sort of just sat in the back of a wagon and let some mercenaries do the work." That was, of course, back when he could actually afford mercenaries. And a wagon. Now, he was broke like a Dek and probably as competent as one, too. Aoren would have to show him the ropes. He'd probably be a burden, honestly, but at least he knew some magic, and how to hunt. That was the only thing that'd keep him from being a total liability. But either way those talents only came to use if the situation turned for the absolute worst.

[Aoren]

Somehow Aoren had known that the answer to his question would be something of a “no”. He gave Caesarion a shake of his head and a lopsided smile before sighing. It was only to be expected. He couldn’t hold it against him. Aoren certainly was no master of the wilds. He had about as much experience living in the wilderness as any other average person. There were a few things that they had to learn to do before setting out but he had a few days to prepare for them both. With a firm nod of his head the matter was decided.

“Well, we aren’t going to have mercenaries at our beck and call on our trip. It looks like we’ve got some purchases to make and a camping trip to take.” Already Aoren was comprising a list of necessary items for the road. He compared that list to the money he had saved up. “The gear isn’t cheap. You’ll also need a horse. If..if you need help, I can help you.”

He hesitated as he made that statement. It was strained. The words felt like lead in his mouth. While he had been angry and frustrated the last time both of them had met, an offer to help had been part of the reason they had went their separate ways. Aoren wasn’t entirely sure how Caesarion would take another offer. He adjusted the pup in his arms offering Isikai a hand to nibble and play with. Aoren’s newfound companion seemed more than happy to lightly nip at his fingers to which the Drykas man responded in kind. He gave Isikai a glance before looking up to search the planes of Caesarion’s face.

“You said you can hunt so that will help but unless you’re an exceptionally skilled hunter that won’t be enough. I’m not trying to belittle you, I just want to be sure.” Ever the careful planner, Aoren knew the dangers of the wilderness all too well. He’d encountered his fair share of brushes with death even in the Bronze Woods. He could only imagine what dangers lay beyond the carefully patrolled borders of Syliras. Embarking on a journey of this magnitude was no joke. It had been something that Aoren had been planning for nearly two years. It had not been a decision he came to lightly. As it stood he was completely ready to take the trip by himself but the addition of another person complicated things. He teetered on the edge of whether or not this was a good idea.

He still felt no small amount of discomfort in Caesarion’s presence given their situation. Part of him also suspected that the other man wasn’t fully prepared to undertake such a trip. They would be on the road for nearly the entire season braving the dangers of the Kabrin Road. While that was certainly the safest route to and from Syliras and Zeltiva that safety was far from guaranteed. He found himself questioning whether or not Caesarion was making this decision because he truly wanted to go or because he was clinging to a last shred of hope that Aoren would allow him back into his heart.

“I was going to buy a few more things for the journey tomorrow anyways. We can pick up the gear that you’ll need in addition to what I still need. The caravan that I have looked into is leaving on the fifteenth day of the season. That gives us a small amount of time to finish preparing for the journey.” There was still a long list of things that Aoren needed to do before he was ready to leave and that list had just gotten longer. For a moment he felt the weight of the decision he’d just made and wondered if he’d regret it. A large part of him suspected he would. A smaller, more hopeful part told him not to listen and just go with what was being placed in front of him.

For what was a life spent not taking any risks?

“Hardly a life at all…” Those words echoed in Aoren’s thoughts. So there they were. Two almost strangers awkwardly reaching out to one another in the most suitable way they could. The road to Zeltiva would be a journey not just of worldly dangers but of emotional ones as well. What awaited them there? Aoren certainly didn’t know but for the first time in a long time…he was hopeful.

“Do you know how to use a bow and arrow?”