Closed A Dance of Blue Flames

[Sayana]

Winter 38, 514 AV The moment Sayana heard rumors of the Herald’s Arms hosting a fire-inspired dance she was enthralled – and of course needed to know when the opening night would be. After begging Ser Kevith day after day to give her that night off, he finally relented. “It’s to further my skill in dance,” she pleaded. “Alright,” was his gruff reply. “But you better put in the lost time in performances here, or at least help Remi in the kitchens.” So he knew about that. Not much seemed to get past the old knight, especially in his own tavern. With many words of thanks, the Eypharian almost hugged him, but quickly thought better of it. The knight didn’t seem to be the sort to appreciate hugs and she definitely didn’t want him changing his mind. At last the big night had come. Even though it was just a performance, she was equally curious about watching and learning from other dancers as well as the fire magic they seemed to possess. Sayana had come across hints of magic here and there, but most of the time it was private or cautiously used and the Eypharian had rarely seen it openly used. Perhaps it would only be trickery with fire but to Sayana it would seem no less magical. Sayana tried to be early, but even as she stepped through the door of the tavern she could see that it was bustling with activity. Clearly she wasn’t the only one drawn by the news of a promising performance. Although the Herald’s Arms was well renowned for its “upper floors”, the fire dancing was clearly happening on the bottom floor. Tables and chairs had been moved to create an open space and were also generally pointing in that direction. The bar was busy with people grabbing drinks and the typical leisurely and soothing atmosphere was replaced by one of anticipation. It was certainly not the usual crowd, but it would no doubt boost business. Sayana took off her warm grey coat and placed it on the back of an empty chair. Giving her arms a bit of a stretch after being scrunched up in the coat, she quickly touched up her red lip pomade. She almost felt a little bare not having her small percussive instruments on hand, but she had her dagger and a knife at her hip and a second knife concealed in her top. She scanned the large room for familiar faces and managed to catch sight of a couple of the regulars of the Rearing Stallion. Tonight would be a good night. She might even treat herself.

[Aren]

Aren didn't know exactly how he felt about this particular job, but Scraggy had assured him that it would be no issue. Normally this was not the type of work mercenaries pursued, but the old codger said able Reimancers were currently in short supply within the city, and the Knights' decree that practicing magic required a license would start to be enforced next season. Furthermore, his skills with his scythe certainly would lend themselves to the role of performer, if only for an evening. Though reticent, the Akalak was all too keenly aware of just how badly he needed money, and had hesitantly agreed to the job. Yet now, as he took in the perfumed atmosphere of the Herald's Arms, he found himself regretting the decision. Never before had he used his magical skills, nor his martial skills for that matter, for the purposes of entertainment. It was a rare occasion when Aren got nervous, as he had no idea how to go about such a performance, but the hour grew entirely too late to turn back now. He'd just have to bite down, get through this, and come out the other side smelling like roses. Or jasmines? What was that smell, anyway? It was going to be fine. All he had to do was simply go through a few of the more complicated routines he knew and and the scythe being lit on fire would hopefully do the rest. If it was so simple however, why was his face possessed of such a look of dread, then? Picking up on her temporary employee's sense of woe, the woman who seemed to be organizing the performances behind the scenes thought that perhaps a little encouragement would ease his nerves, "Don't worry, handsome, the music will do half the work. And Scraggy says you can swing that thing like a poet, so just remember to bow at the end, and you'll be fine." She gave him a reassuring smile, which Aren appreciated, but he couldn't help but hope that this was all a dream. Unfortunately for the poor Akalak, it wasn't. The musicians had already been made aware of the pace his routine would take, and were busy rehearsing the performance amongst themselves. Patrons were taking their seats. Drinks were being poured. There was no way out now. Yet somehow, the more he thought about it, the more this sense of inescapable doom somehow served to calm Aren's nerves. It was like being on the battlefield; once there was no possibility for escape or retreat, the idea that the only way to survive was to forge ahead took hold. Whilst the fear and anxiety never truly left, at least these feelings were no longer crippling. "Think of it as a new experience, brother. And, isn't that why you travel?" Seros volunteered, somehow managing to not be an absolutely unhelpful jerk for once. The thought didn't actually help, but the sentiment did. It was nice to see his darker Other's more sociable side every once in a while, as it gave his brother hope for a future where he didn't have to be restrained at all. "Best start getting ready, blue boy, you're the opening act." Said the woman who had tried help him, as she hurried by on the way to doing more important things. "Wha?" Aren's voice squeaked, his eyes suddenly widening in renewed distress.

[Sayana]

As Sayana took a seat, the other man at the table turned and looked accusingly at her presumptuous behaviour. “What? I hear it’s going to be a busy night,” Sayana protested, “You’re not saving this seat, are you?” “I suppose not,” the young man responded simply. The Eypharian studied him for a moment. He had a nice enough face, distinct features, neatly trimmed hair, and fairly young. She was sure she had seen him before. “Do you visit the Rearing Stallion much?” She questioned carefully, trying not to ruffle the quiet man any further. “On occasion. You’re the new dancer there. Started early to mid fall.” He answered crisply. Sayana was momentarily surprised at the precision of his words but then figured that word probably just gets around. “My name’s Alexus,” the young man said with an offered hand as if to make up for his earlier slip. “Sayana,” she replied and shook the offered hand with her mid right. “Tell you what, if you watch my coat while I go grab a drink, I’ll grab you one too.” The Eypharian offered with a smile. Alexus nodded in agreement and Sayana got up to wade through the growing number of people. It was certainly busy, and busier still near the bar. Everyone wanted to get a couple of drinks before the show began. “Two mugs of ale please!” Sayana said loudly above the noise and gave a wave of her high hand way above her head to attract some attention. As she waited on the drinks, her attention veered towards the stage and a cluster of people standing next to it – performers more likely than not. A light smile played across her lips as she caught sight of the nervous shifting and glancing around of a tall blue fellow. She had only come across a few Akalak in her years but clearly they had the same kind of stage fright as other new performers. The bar keeper handed her the two drinks and she supplied the appropriate coin in return. Curiously turning back to the Akalak, Sayana watched as he paled visibly at a comment from a woman who promptly left to attend to other matters. With a couple of smooth steps, an elbow to a customer here, and a duck under a raised tankard there, Sayana approached the tall man without spilling the two drinks held in her mids. “First time in front of an audience?” She asked with a friendly yet amused expression. “You look like you’ve got the jitters already.” She had to crane her neck to look him in the face, so part of the time her eyes simply wandered over his chest. “If it’s the audience that bothers you, don’t look at them. Look at what you’re doing, enjoy it, draw their attention by putting your own attention towards it. Or, if you can always look at the dark little corner where the back wall and the roof meet. Then we can see your pretty face but you don’t have to see ours.” She glanced up again to meet his eyes. “Unless of course you want to see my pretty face, but that has its own complications.” The show was probably going to start soon, and although she wanted to offer him some encouragement, she also didn’t want him panicking about being late or not getting to where he needed to be. “Need a swig to calm your nerves?” She asked and held out one of the mugs of ale. “I’ve got to get back to my seat though.”

[Aren]

This latest turn of events had thrown Aren for a loop. He was starting to acclimate himself to the notion that he would have to go out and perform, but he wasn't quite there yet. The news that he was going first, as a sort of warm up for the following acts, did not sit well with him at all. He'd been hoping to be able to observe a few professionals doing their routine in order to get some sort of idea of what he could expect, but alas that prospect was now gone. "Get a hold of yourself. It's not like-" Seros' tried to talk some sense into his brother, but a sudden distraction prevented him. The woman now speaking to him seemed rather familiar with what the Akalak was experiencing, offering some words of counsel. An Eypharian, like his mother, her six arms brought back memories that the reticent performer hadn't thought about in years. Aren smiled, before remembering where he was, after which he proceed only to nod in acknowledgement of her advice. Taking the proffered mug of ale without a moment's hesitation, he chugged the whole thing down in the vain hope that it would loosen his nerves somewhat. Unfortunately, he knew someone his size would need a very strong drink or a just a great deal of the weaker stuff to achieve such an effect. "Yeah, and I'm up." Aren managed to get out, just as lights began to be blown out in anticipation of the upcoming show. His eyes couldn't help but follow the girl's swaying hips all the way back to her seat, before more pressing matters drew his attention. As the azure mage took center stage, scythe already in hand, he noticed the bucket he had requested off to a side of the performing area, whilst a few lit candles dotted his immediate vicinity. His heart pounded in his chest almost as if this was a life and death situation, but fortunately his body was at least acclimated to working under those particular conditions. As all of the unnecessary light sources were finally put out, a soft, mournful elegy began to play. Just as it did, Aren's arms began to move with slow, fluid motions, adopting one of the most basic routines he knew. These were one of the simplest series of practice movements he had ever learned, but as his weapon's steel blade reflected off what little illumination remained, it became frighteningly obvious that the scythe's edge was deadly sharp. This wasn't some faux warrior pretending like he knew how to swing some rusty sword around. Here, there was an actual chance that something could go wrong and either the performer or the audience might lose a limb. Doubtless it all added an element of excitement that was very much intentional, and probably one of the reasons he had been hired. In the final moments of this slower section, Aren caressed the blade of the scythe a few times when it shifted position between his hands. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but those with keen eyes and close seats would be hard pressed to miss the pale, translucent gloss that was left behind each time steel and flesh came near each other. As the beat of the music sped up, Aren's movement's slowly accelerated and shifted to the more realistic pace of an actual training exercise. In addition, he seemed to be very deliberately allowing his swings to graze the candles at his feet, snuffing them out in the process. As more and more candles fell to his near misses, the warrior's blade seemed to speed up just as he appeared to vanish deeper and deeper into the blackness. His Akalak eyes allowed him to see the crowd perfectly, though, and he could tell they weren't entirely sure if this was part of the show. For a few seconds after the last candle had gone out, the only assurance that the performance continued was the sound of air being cut asunder as the towering blue warrior's scythe continued it's cyclonic movements, even in pitch darkness. Yet suddenly and with only the climaxing crescendo of the music for warning, Aren's snaith (the staff part) came crashing down against the floor of the Herald's Arms, a blast of fire simultaneously lighting the blade of the scythe up like a fireball. A collective gasp and an all around sense of awe told the Reimancer that the gesture had been well received, yet the performance wasn't over yet. The fire mage merely paused for effect as the music settled into a very melancholic lament. His arms were starting to burn now, and he took the very brief lull in the action to catch his breath, but almost immediately the blade was brought into full swing again. In the almost total darkness, the flame seemed to dance absent strings as Aren entered into the most complicate, most grueling routine he knew. His scythe whirled about him with the illusion that he was surrounded on all sides by enemies. The music seemed to suggest that this was a brave warrior's frantic last dance. Soon, he would be overwhelmed, but he would not go quietly into the night. The crescendo rose as it had previously, but this time it grew even more furious as it matched Aren's faster movements. Faster and faster it raged, seemingly without end. Yet, at it's climax, it did not settle back down, but stop suddenly. The warrior was dead; his fight had been a worthy, if hopeless one. As the Akalak's flaming scythe rapidly slowed and then came to a complete halt, candles began to be lit all around the tavern. Once he was plainly visible, the crowd could see that Aren stood bowing nearly motionless (save for the panting of his chest), exuding all the nobility of the melody's imaginary protagonist. His weapon tucked at his side, it's flame was still burning, as he waited for his cue to leave the stage. In the moments before the patrons made their reaction known, his mind couldn't help but be a jumble of doubts. Had he done well? Did they hate him? Was he getting paid? He really, really, would like to get paid.

[Sayana]

Sayana couldn’t help but smile as he chugged down the mug of ale. “Have fun up there,” she said with a wave and turned to go back to her seat. Well, maybe he would and maybe he wouldn’t but if he was performing at the Herald’s Arms he had to have at least a few tricks up his sleeve. The Eypharian stopped partway to her seat and took a good swig of the remaining drink she had, satisfying her thirst. As she plopped back down in her seat and offered the mug to Alexus, he raised his eyebrows at the single mug. “What? I was thirsty. Already drank mine.” She lied with a shrug. The young man didn’t comment her excuse and was plenty happy to be getting a free mug. “Ooh! It’s starting!” Sayana whispered with a childish sense of joy as various sources of light were extinguished. To her surprise, it was the same Akalak who took center stage to start off the show. Now wonder he was so jittery about it all. And to top it off, he wielded a long curved blade upon a staff. At first she wasn’t sure whether he regarded it as a prop or a weapon, but as the music started it soon became evident that it was the latter. Her eyes followed the blade with keen interest as he moved it about in what seemed like slow attacks and blocks. He no longer seemed as nervous as he had been only moments before, since now he was in his element. Part of her envied his smooth skill and precise movements, for although she incorporated blades and other props into her dance, they were merely props. Perhaps it was time to actually learn to wield a weapon, an impressive one that is. Knives and daggers were not the sort to show off in a dance. As the music began to speed up Sayana wondered if there was going to be any display of fire in this act. Maybe he was just warming up the audience for what was soon to come. After all, who didn’t like watching the strength and skill of a trained Akalak? Although, for some reason it was starting to get rather dark in the tavern. The Eypharian frowned and glanced about. The only source of light from the back of the tavern were the faint glowing coals of the fireplaces which were hardly enough to see by. And on the stage, the well-placed candles were going out one by one. Forcing her attention back to swirling and cascading blade, Sayana kept her high and mid arms relaxed upon the table. Yet beneath the table she gripped her dagger with her low right, unsure of whether the fading lights were going to be the cover for an attack. As it the blackness pervaded the tavern, Sayana grew even more tense. The only sounds she could hear were the swishing of the blade and the soft sounds of shifting and mutterings from the audience. Soon the music began to pick up again but it didn’t ease Sayana’s discomfort. “If it stays dark any longer, I’m going to --” Whoosh! A flame erupted from the staff igniting the blade. Sayana gave a gasp alongside many others and then a bright smile lit across her face. Now here was a good show. She slowly loosened her grip on her dagger realizing that had this been a ploy for a secret attack, it probably would have happened already. She watched with new excitement as the flames danced through the nearly black air. Only snippets and half shadows of the dark blue man could be seen and he was almost as ethereal as the flame itself. Faster and faster. Left, right, to the front and behind. The flame seemed everywhere at once, yet at no place for long. Then suddenly it stopped, and the music with it. The battle was over. As candles were being lit once more, there was a small moment of silence as if the audience wasn’t ready for such an abrupt ending. Sayana quickly recovered and got to her feet applauding loudly with her highs and her mids. Someone had to take the lead for the applause of such a magnificent first act. Soon the rest of the audience gave its appreciation with much clapping and even a few whistles. Though not everyone leapt to their feet like Sayana had. But it was soon time for the next act and the audience quieted down ready to enjoy the rest of the evening with a good first impression. “Now there’s someone with talent,” Sayana commented to Alexus with a nod towards the stage. “Sure you don’t just fancy him?” The young man teased. “I do not!” She retorted. “Besides, I’d only settle for an Eypharian. And they are rather scarce here, other than the ones that are a piece of shyke. Though for just a night of fun… I bet I could get just about anyone in this tavern.” “Even me?” Alexus challenged with a raise of his eyebrow. “Bah! In your dreams.” “In yours… Six-arms.” OOCI mostly just responded to your performance, but feel free to overhear any, all, or none of their banter.

[Aren]

"I don't believe having six arms is something that should be used as an insult. My mother, who was similarly blessed, made sure to raise me better than that." Aren had only caught the tail end of the conversation, and having no idea as to the nature of the pair's relationship, didn't exactly know what to make of the comment. Was this guy just some acquaintance, overstepping his bounds, or was this merely a conversation between lifelong friends? Could they have even been something more? That would be a bit disappointing, the Akalak thought. Still, he made sure to stress the fact that his own mother had shared the same number of appendages with the lady in question, and an insult to her might be misconstrued as an insult to a certain large, blue, scythe wielding performer's parentage. A few chimes before, Aren had deftly abandoned the stage to make way for the following act, much to his relief. Claps and whistles did generally mean that he had done well, in most cultures he had encountered, but he certainly was not eager to test the assumption. It was good enough that it appeared that he hand't screwed up. Before long, his scythe had been casually dunked in the nearby water bucket and his tired hands had squandered no movement re-strapping it to his person. Knowing that if payment was to come it would be from the man that had arranged the job, and not from the contractor themselves, the mercenary hadn't wasted any time bothering the people busy helping prepare for the next show. In seconds, he had been out of the rear exit of the tavern, and eager to make his way home, when he realized he had forgotten something. He couldn't recall if he had actually used any of the Eypharian's advice during the act itself, but even his thick head was now coming to the conclusion that her presence had served to distract him from the nervousness that had ceaselessly gripped the first time performer. Who knows what reaction the Akalak's own nerves might have provoked if she hadn't come along; and gratitude was not something one should ever be remiss in expressing. And so, circling around the Herald's Arm, Aren had made his way towards the establishment's front entrance, suspecting that the chaos of the impending performances would make it difficult to cross the stage area towards the seats at this particular moment. As he stood there now, after his thinly veiled threat, his exposed skin still gleamed from the earlier exertion. Additionally, the decidedly-inhuman golden eyes he possessed seemed to drill into the back of the young man's head in expectation of his reaction. The towering warrior wanted to make sure that, when the gentleman turned about, his intentions could not be confused in any way. In case the banter between the Eypharian and her acquaintance turned out to be more than that, of course. "Friend or fool?" The Akalak briefly uttered, in a low, guttural growl, his mother's tongue on his lips. His Arumenic was generally only used for incoherent cursing, but he assumed the girl would be able to understand him well enough to get the gist of his query.

[Sayana]

“An insult? I do protest. I spoke in fondness of the spidery lady.” Alexus replied. His gaze met the Akalak’s piercing yellow eyes for longer than one might have expected, particularly since the young man had no apparent skill in combat. Although he was not stupid enough to start a fight with the blue warrior, he wasn’t going to be walked all over either. “Oh knock it off, the two of you,” Sayana said as she got to her feet and stepped between the pair ending any sort of staring contest they were having. Candles were beginning to get snuffed out and when she glanced around Sayana realized that they were one of the few still standing. That’s when he caught her by surprise. “Friend or fool?” Her eyes widened briefly at the language he used, but she didn’t respond right away to his words. Instead she caught his hands briefly in two of hers. “Do sit,” Sayana spoke softly yet firmly in common. She looked meaningfully into his eyes and released his hands before pulling up a chair from a neighboring table and setting it next to her own seat. “Friend or fool? Foolish friend. Someone to pass the time,” she finally replied in Arumenic almost as though it was an afterthought as she settled back down in her chair. “But come now, you were fabulous up there!” She continued reverting back to common. A couple of heads turned at the animated conversation and Sayana quickly changed her voice to a whisper. “No really, that was some very impressive stuff you pulled off.” By now the room was quite dark again and a second performer had made it to the stage. This time it was a woman, perhaps an inarta due to her long flowing red hair. Alexus had also turned his attention to the stage. Either he was being courteous enough not to interrupt Sayana and the Akalak, not to mention the rest of the audience, or he had resigned to the fact that she probably fancied the blue man – whether she admitted it or not. “And then the way you lit up your blade as if it were nothing at all,” Sayana added with a grin and a gesture of her hands but then forcibly stopped herself from chattering on. He seemed a man of few words. But maybe that was just her impression because he had been so nervous before the show. She placed her mid and high arms lightly upon the table and angled herself towards him as she looked over his figure. He was tall, taller than her by far and was well built. And his skin so blue that even in the darkness there was no denying it. Her eyes roamed over his skin before she jerked her head away to look at the performer on stage. The inarta, or so Sayana assumed, was now spinning ropes about her body with small balls of flame at the ends of each.

[Aren]

"And in what world does being likened to a spider-" Aren growled, now almost certain this individual meant insult, despite his supposed umbrage. Before matters could come to a head, however, the Eypharian in question stepped in between the two quarreling men. Separating them with her body, Aren was forced to come to the conclusion that she was either very kind, or perhaps not insulted at all. Either way, it was the lady's prerogative to decide how she felt, though the Akalak still eyed the young man behind her with suspicion. Taking his blue hands in her's, the dark skinned Eypharian bid him sit, eventually confirming that the boy was, indeed, a friend. At least, that's what Aren had understood, though his Arumenic was so rusty he might have easily assumed the opposite if she hadn't already stepped between them once. Unstrapping his scythe and laying it at his feet, not a moment had passed since the towering mercenary had sat when an irascible looking man approached the chair the warrior had taken. He brought a mug of ale with him and briefly gave the Akalak a look that suggested that perhaps this had been his chair only a few chimes earlier. Aren had looked at him for only a second, as his gaze was lingering overlong, when the man's eyes abruptly shifted as if he'd realized something all of a sudden. Grumbling something, the poor fellow seemed to wander off in search of another chair. Promptly returning his gaze to his new acquaintance, the would-be performer was glad to hear that his act had been appreciated. Even after the applause, he hadn't been entirely certain if he'd done well, or if the crowd was just not being rude. His new six-armed acquaintance seemed to have genuinely enjoyed it however, and that was already more than he had ever expected. "I-" Interrupted by the glares of the other patrons of the tavern, Aren also instinctively hushed his voice just as the Eypharian woman opposite him had done. "I do private parties, too." The Akalak cheekily whispered in a suggestive tone, though he knew how plainly obvious his lie would be to anyone who had seen his uneasiness earlier. Eypharians did not generally tend towards shyness or modesty, which was partly the reason Aren was the way he was, himself. An Eypharian mother which exuded an immense amount of pride and self-confidence was bound to have an influence on her only son. Thankfully, he hadn't taken after her completely, as evidence by his earlier bout of nervousness. Additionally, sometimes he could be awkward and more often than not he possessed a sense of humility which, among other things, he certainly did not inherit from his mother. "My name is Aren, by the way." The blue hued warrior offered, hoping the striking brunette would return the gesture. He suspected that, if her roaming eyes were any indication, she would. Turning his attention to the show with a smirk, the azure Akalak figured perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to stick around for a while longer. He hadn't yet thanked this mysterious beauty for her help, after all. "Hey, that red haired girl sure likes playing with balls..." Seros mused, the crassness and immaturity of the comment provoking only an inner sigh of disgust from his brother, as was intended.

[Sayana]

Sayana relaxed as the tension eased between the two men and the Akalak took his seat. As much as she liked the attention she didn’t want a fight to break out and ruin her night out. She did of course come here to see the fire dancing and she didn’t want all her pleading to Ser Kevith to go to waste. When another fellow came over looking for his seat, Sayana did a poor job at concealing her smile. Snooze you lose, or make a new friend to save your seat. “I do private parties, too.” Was his soft yet cheeky advance. She glanced slyly up at him and placed her hand in her hair, propping her head upon her arm on the table. “Private parties? For me and my friends, or just for me?” She asked curious if he’d trip up on the thought of performing for her friends since he had clearly meant private, as ‘private’. Even though she hadn’t been serious when suggested it, her eyes suddenly lit up at the idea of hosting a party at her home and inviting various friends. After all, what else is an apartment of your own useful for? She watched him with an amused expression trying to gauge his response. Despite seeming soft spoken initially he also seemed to know how to play. At his introduction the Eypharian smiled and replied, “Aren, now there’s a good name for a fellow.” With one of her hands nearest him, she traced it from his shoulder down his arm to hold his hand gently. “And my name is Sayana,” she finally answered. As the Akalak turned to the stage, Sayana’s attention followed his. The inarta was a charming young woman and she was certainly skilled. The balls of flame whipped about in faster and more complex patterns practically creating solid lines of fire through the air. She moved a little in time with the music but it was clear that most of her concentration was on the display of flames. “So are your private parties just as hot and firey as your public ones?” Sayana asked with some suggestive undertones. She looked back into his shockingly yellow eyes that contrasted so sharply to his deep skin and also to her own eyes. An eruption of flame brought her eyes quickly back to the stage, for now all the ropes were ablaze and they were twisting and coiling through the air and… wrapped about her arms! Sayana involuntarily clenched her hand in his and she stared at the flaming ropes as they coiled and uncoiled about the inarta’s bare arms. Was it a trick, or was she blessed by the gods? She appeared to be unscathed and the performer’s expression was that of an ordinary performance with nothing gone wrong. Sayana suddenly noticed her tightened grip and slowly eased it, hoping that Aren wouldn’t think any less of her, or better, that he hadn’t noticed.

[Aren]

"Special one time event, but unfortunately only a single guest per invitation allowed. Of course, there's only been issued one. It's very exclusive, you see." Aren smiled, knowing she'd understood his meaning all too well, just as she would understand it now. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Sayana." The Akalak offered with a slight nod of his head, his golden eyes following one of her hands as it trailed the length of his arm. When said hand finally got down to to his, the Eypharian held it gently, as if testing to see if the skin was rough or smooth. Being a warrior, Aren did not have the soft, unmarred hands she might have been accustomed to, but that was a point of pride for him. The girl on the stage, meanwhile, was putting on quite a show. It was an interesting display, thought even the Reimancer could not tell if there was any magic involved. Sayana, however, did not seem sufficiently engrossed with the act to prevent her from continuing her leading questions, for which Aren was grateful. He was enjoying the exchange, and finding someone that he did not feel like he would be taking advantage of was a relief. Innocence and naiveté were charming and endearing qualities, but they could be just as frustrating sometimes, for a man of honor. A sensuous woman who knew what she wanted could be exceptionally appealing, in her own right. "Oh, profuse sweating would be inevitable." Aren replied, as the pair's eyes met for a brief moment, before they returned their gaze back to the ongoing performance. The act was certainly engrossing, almost as much so as the company, but when the routine heated up, it took the Akalak's new acquaintance by surprise. He'd seen much stranger during his travels, but it was a neat trick, assuming it wasn't magical in nature, and he couldn't blame anyone from being taken back by the display. If there was some arcane competent to it, it was enough to fool even a mage like Aren, thought his experience with the subject was admittedly limited. The blue skinned warrior's upper lip curled upward ever so slightly as he felt Sayana's grip involuntarily constrict around his hand. As she slowly released it, his own fingers tightened for an instant. Saying nothing, he merely continued to watch the performance, unabashedly acknowledging that he liked the feel of her skin on his.