Completed No Place For An Ethaefal (Gile, Zailey, Darshan)

[Yazata]

Yazata. In the beginning, there was nothingness, and only nothingness. Layer upon layer of darkness, and heavy silence. Eventually, pale green eyes fluttered open. This place, whatever it is, was undoubtedly NOT where he is supposed to be. Left, right, up, down...there were no such things, for there was only cold wetness. But even in this state of oblivion, the fallen being’s mind reeled still. The essence of dearest Syna, beautiful and majestic, still resided in his very wandering soul. Torn from his celestial abode, and flung into the gaping maw of an unwelcoming world...there were no coherent thoughts that allowed him any semblance of understanding while he floated, carried by gently rolling waves and glittering waters. Never did he feel as lost as he was now, with him not knowing where to go, what to do, or more importantly, what kind of life this was supposed to be if he can remember his heavenly home, and not be in it. The passage of time was just as vague as everything else in this place was. Not long after, the damp beach greeted his bare body, and provided a somewhat soft embrace for him to huddle on. Confusion was mixed with disbelief, and a small amount of terror. For one, the flickering images filling his head did not help his abrupt birth into the material. On and off, visions passed by like illusions depicting people that he had been, but no longer was. One in particular, was rather prominent. Little more than fleeting recollections, the memories of sun-baked sands, cheers, and a call for what he recognized as a name, dominated his jumbled mind. Yazata, he heard. Yazata, was what he was called, long before his last release of carnal bindings. The glorious name he had after, was gone with his days in the arms of the divine. No longer speakable, nor who he is. The now Ethaefal knew nothing of his current state of being. He only knew that he was in a foreign realm, and that he wanted more than anything to return to where he did not feel the chill of dawn, and the unsettling fears of mortals. How to go back? CAN he go back? Should he go back? There were many questions, and not a single answer. Even his attempts to call out for Syna, whom he thought would be there for him, went unanswered. The errant consciousness that was previously Yazata, was truly, and utterly, lost and all alone. But eventually, there was light. Although soundless, it beckoned to him with irresistible magnetism. He wanted to go there, he wanted to head towards the all too inviting light, but his reborn flesh was heavy and aching. Warmth and brilliance showered the world not too long after, accompanying the deliberate sunrise. One might have thought the motionless, porcelain form that laid on the shore was that of a corpse. He did not move, did not make a sound, until the storm in his head abated. And when he did move, his motions were awkward and sluggish. Syna was suspended where he could only watch -for a second-, but not reach. Bereft, he scanned the skies for a gate, a pillar--any way to assure himself that he has a way back. But there were none, and he was instead left with a bitter realization, and the gripping claws of dread. Saline droplets rolled, involuntarily, from awestruck eyes. It was all the release he was allowed, before a cacophony of noises assaulted his unsuspecting ears. Seabirds called, waves crashed on moss-tipped rocks, and distant noises drew his immediate attention. In a way, it was a merciful diversion. A temporary distraction of having to accept THIS as his reality. Taking a few moments to familiarize himself with his body, Yazata’s figure stood and walked with the idle aimlessness of a lost wraith, leaving a distinct trail of footprints on the golden carpet of sand. Looming large shapes in the horizon, half obscured by the very thin veneer of morning fog, were where he found himself heading.

[Gile Askara]

Gile Askara Fate... It was an laymen's term for those unable to to take control of each day, letting fate take you places was kind if like saying you had no goals and just wanted to let life play out however it would. That was how his father had become a cobbler instead of vying for more power in the dynasty. It made Gile a little sick to think about, he'd seen his father for breakfast as he did like to see the man every now and then, and his slave could cook well.... Fried eggs and grilled pork were simply hard to pass up when offered freely, and yet his father hung on words like fate and providence, such weak concepts. Gile fumed when he considered his lack of position in the dynasty, he was the same age as the heir and shared his blood but was nowhere near close to ever running the family, something he desperately needed to change. He had started working for the family, persuading slaves to give up their rebellious ways, or to make them rat out their cohorts. It was not glorious work, but it was a start, and it let him freely practice his skills. Their was something to be said about how if one enjoyed their job they never worked. Gile appreciated the saying. As Gile walked upon the beach enjoying the morning air in it's still col humidity he noticed a second set of footsteps join his, and looking up he followed them as he walked until they led him to a sight most worth drinking in. A pair of pail feet attached to slender legs... attached to a pert bum and thighs... hips, a thin midriff,sloping shoulders, all topped with long hair. Grinning a little dumbfoundedly he began to wonder if he should start believing in fate. Shaking his head Gile gathered his thoughts. As entertaining as staring at such a figure was, he was either in the presence of a runaway slave, or a dynasty brat who'd partied to hard. Either way he could play the hero, returning a slave o a dynasty would get him good graces and clothing and taking a dynasty brat home would do him the same. Approaching slowly Gile cleared his throat to make a sound and put on a smile. Assuming that the figure turned around to notice him he would greet them with a kind. "Hello" and offer them his black cloak. If they did not turn around he would simply drape the cloak over their back and firmly place a soft hand on their shoulder. After either action his line would be, "It's dangerous to share such a splendid figure so easily, too many a slaver would want to lay claim to someone so defenseless, though, you'll be safe with me." As he was speaking Gile searched in his head for the place where his energy liked to hide and pulled it out, and put it in his mouth. swishing it like thin honey he began to add a djed to his words so when the word "safe" came out of his mouth it would add a sense of comfort to it, not much power was used but enough, the word was filled with a sense of comfort and warmth. Observing the person closely Gile was amused and concerned simultaneously, at such a range it became obvious that this person was a little special, they had three horns, to pert cute horns adorned their head, and another cute hanging horn adorned their pelvis. It was an unexpected development but as an Askara something like that could hardly shake him, though there was a lack of any branding or tattooing anywhere to be seen, just who was this stranger?

[Zailey]

The sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon when Zailey was leaving her home that morning. The locals were, mostly, still sound asleep after merrymaking late into the evening. Such activities held little appeal to her though, preferring another kind of fun. With fishing pole resting against her shoulder, and tackle box in hand, she had a relaxing day of fishing planned. It was as much leisure as it was a necessity. The more fish she caught, the less Miza she needed to spend on food. On a good day, she could even sell some of her catch; sadly, since her arrival in Kenash, those days were far and few between. 'I really need to ask the locals for some pointers,' she thought to herself. She was still hopeful though, telling herself that if she managed to snag something today, she would get to try cooking it the same way her grandmother did. Even if she didn't have the recipe memorized yet, the book her mother gave her before leaving had detailed instructions. On her way to where she thought might have been a good fishing spot, in the dirt, Zailey scanned for track. She knew nothing about tracking or identifying tracks, but she did see what looked like the shape of a person's shoe. If there were other prints, she certainly hadn't noticed them. It was still fun to try while nothing more interesting was happening around her though. In a handful of ticks, Zailey was walking down the shore and came upon a nice large boulder. It was perfect distance from the water, and even provided some cover from peering eyes. Satisfied with the location, she sat the tackle box down near the rock and leaned her pole against it. After a bit of a fight, she had her fishing line set with a bobber, lure, hook, and squirming worm. Walking to the waters edge, she held the baited pole over her shoulder, and with the flick of her wrist, the line flew, sloppily, landing in the water with a bloop. She still needed to work on her technique, but at least it landed in water. Even if it was only a couple of meters out. Crouching down, she planted the butt of the fishing pole in wet sand, enough for it to stay standing up right without her help. With an exaggerated stretch and long yawn, Zailey sat down on the ground, taking her boots off, and digging her toes into the cold sand. Resting her head on arms that perched atop bent knees, she sat quietly listening to the sounds of morning. In the distance, the haunting call of a loon filled the air. Accompanied by the trail of toads and frogs that lived on the shores and reeds of the swamp and the ever-present rhythmic heave of calm water pushing against land. All of those sounds made that morning very tranquil, even if it was humid. Fishing was mostly a waiting game, and while Zailey waited, her thoughts wandered back to her home in Riverfall. She had spent many mornings like this with her father when she was young. Except back then she usually just watched him do the fishing. Now, here it an unfamiliar place, she scolded herself for not paying more attention or asking questions when she had the chance. One bell passed, then another, and Zailey still sat in the same place. Slowly, the stars disappeared, giving way to stunning hues of purple and red. It would probably rain later. In morning's first light, the waters surface reflected the masterpiece above. It's only distortion coming from her fishing line and the water bugs that created a few small ripples. After some more time with no sign of activity on Zailey's line, the sun was just over the horizon, and she was starting to nod off. Stretching where she sat, the uncomfortable tingle of needles in her legs reminded her how long it had been since she had sat down. Standing up, a quiet groan escaped her lips, which was met with an annoying voice not too far from her. Peeking out from behind the boulder, she spotted two figures. Normally, she wouldn't have given the situation a second thought, but her intuition told her that something was off about those two. Quietly, she went over to her fishing pole and reeled it in. Maybe she was over thinking this, or maybe she was being paranoid, but fishing would have to wait for now. Gathering her things, she tried her best to hide them in one of the boulders' natural crevices. Zailey wasn't sure what she was going to do just yet. The cloaked figure wasn't really doing anything from what she could tell. Could she act on something like suspicion of suspicion? Maybe. But for now, she would try to follow without them noticing, which made all her movements very exaggerated. Walking on tiptoes and taking long strides. She was no doubt the suspicious-looking person to anybody that saw the three of them.

[Yazata]

Yazata. Yazata’s brief moments of silent musing about this strange place he found himself in, came to a swift end. A foreign voice, coming from behind his back, brought his slow and wary gait to a complete halt. The way his form flinched was telling enough about his surprise, and by the time he turned around to face the source, dark fabric was -rather unexpectedly- draping over his bare figure, followed by the sensation of a firm yet gentle hand resting on his shoulder. Porcelain skin disappeared beneath the black, and the newborn sunlight caught on crystalline horns in a shimmering glint, as the pale green eyes quickly lifted to look at the face of an...unknown man. But of course. This was not his home, this was not where he was supposed to be. Nothing, and no one, would be familiar. Despite the apparent surprise tinting his silent gaze, the youth made no attempt to move away. The additional warmth brought about by the cloak swathing him was very much welcomed, after his rather cold and wet ordeal. Lips parted to mouth his puzzled words of thanks, but nothing really came out. His own state of undress did not bother him as much as what this other person was saying. Slavers? What-- Safe. The man said that he will be safe, and the mere utterance of the word made his tense shoulders relax just a tad. This person, he did not seem to be hostile, or malicious. Quite the opposite, if their kind approach was anything to go by. Yet still, his increasing comfort did nothing to help his struggling speech. He knew what he wanted to say, he could think it loud and clear, but when he made the attempt to voice the thoughts out, his tongue stumbled, and letters of a language far too divine for his current self to utter, died before their birth. That was frustrating, as much as it was harrowing. The fallen’s distress kept him partially uncaring for the eyes roving his body. “Up--” Finally, a single word made it out after a short struggle. When he spoke it, it sounded odd and just...wrong. But he was able to somehow find the knowledge of communication in a mind that was buzzing with too many things and images, all at once. “How do I...go back up?” To assist his still difficult speech, a slender index finger pointed upwards, where the beaming face of Syna bathed the world in brilliance. Blinking slowly, another realization dawned on him before he hastened to add. “Thank you, for...this.” A warm smile was drawn on his face as he gave the gracious stranger his appreciation, while his hands closed around the long garment to swathe himself with it. Very slowly, his mind was clearing up, but the fog of uncertainty still lingered in the very back of his head. Strangely enough, the more he spoke, the less arduous it was becoming for him to form coherent sentences. Like easing into an old yet comfortable outfit. “You are?”.

[Gile Askara]

Gile Askara When the boy reacted Gile's first reaction was to arch an eyebrow, the figure before him seemed lost, lost for words, lost for thoughts, in almost every sense imaginable, they were lost. waiting patiently Gile decided that now was not a time for words but a moment for quiet contemplation, what he had before him, was worth more than their wight in mizas, the horns only grew on one such creature, the sad fallen children of the heavens. There was no dynasty for such creatures, no matter how fair or beautiful they were, such creatures were reminders that the gods were above and watching, and reminders of the gods own fallibility. Anyone with an educated background had heard of the children of the sky's fallen from their heavenly home the creatures wandered lost looking for a way to return. Gile frowned for a moment, this one before him, this boy with horns and pail green eyes was not safe, he was lost, and confused. This child of the sky was new to this world, an unscarred body with skin unmarred by pain and toil. But he would not be able to remain so long. Gile was not one to fight against the natural order of things, this child of the sky would make a slave worthy of boasting about for a week, and yet, looking at the slim boy before him who knew not of the grim reality that he had fallen into, well letting such a fate befall him felt cruel. If anything Gile could easily clothe him, take him home and feed him, stall for time, arrange his own thoughts and feelings. On one level he wanted the boy, for himself, and to an extent that would satisfy his desire to protect him as well, if the boy ended up in the hands of the rodacke, such a figure would last days, a week i he was lucky, but if the boy was a personal servant, he'd have a chance. Their was a market for oddities like him and to deny that fact would be a crime, but to allow such a treasure to escape him, well that was a great sin, as a Araska having a slave such as him would no doubt be a bargaining chip to greater things. You're being selfish his mind said, but the other half of his heart cried out that he'd be protecting him. Pushing back the thought Gile decided that he would have to focus on the now, he could take the boy to the market, it was still a wee hour of the morning and he was awake and ready to take down any might challenge his passage, so long as he was able to keep the boy tucked to him ad hide his horns, he could get him to his apartment, he could protect him their tell he could decide on what to do with him, it was vexing. Ah! I can avoid branding him! I can have him tattooed elegantly with my mark, that would avoid making him suffer unduly, yes, if I make him mine, I'd not harm him needlessly. Coming back to the boy before him and leaving his thoughts behind he focused in on the boy who finally began to speak. “Up--” “How do I...go back up?” “Thank you, for...this.” “You are?”. How to answer such lonely questions, it only took him a moment to realize what the boy was asking and Gile was filled with a mild sorrow when he realized that the responsibility to answer was his, and his alone. This child of heaven was not going home, not any time soon. He would answer the easiest question first. "my name,Is Gile, Gile Askara... at your service, but I'm afraid my first service to you s a grim one, You can fly on the wings of eagles, climb the tallest mountain, and you will not find your home, the heavens are far away from you." What could he do to soften such a blow though, if he awoke one day to know that the Askara was no more and his home was gone, he too would miss the place that was his kingdom of sorts. Perhaps he should be bold, comfort them reaching around the boy Gile adjusted his cloak around the figure, adjusting it to better fit his slightly smaller body, pulling it more tightly around him so that it would better warm him, and in the process Gile gave the boy a soft hug, he wasn't going to hold the boy too firmly for fear he might break him, but enough so that some of his warmth would be transferred over. Now to use his magic again, he'd have to watch it, even if it was a single word at a time, overuse of his magic was unhealthy and dangerous, but he felt that this time it was warranted, not for manipulation, but for comfort. "Your home is here now, on this ground, with me and all others who walk the land, this place, is called Kenash, it is my home, and with luck it can be yours too" With that the ball was in the boys court, Gile did not wish to use force,he didn't want to think of using coercion, not if it could be avoided, but if he had to.... It would be for his own good, in the long run, he'd be protecting him. I want to avoid that though... yes, lets void dark thoughts.

[Yazata]

Yazata. Whatever answers the bewildered youth was hoping for, they did not come fast enough. Expectantly, hopefully, the fallen’s soulful gaze remained fixated on the person before him. He seemed to be lost in a moment of pensive thinking, which he did not dare disturb no matter how urgently he wanted the reply. Unwittingly, the bare feet rocked a little on the soft carpet of sand as anticipation mounted. Sinking deeply into his own thoughts once again, the horned youth was very much unaware of whatever thoughts were keeping the other silent. Not too long after, much to his dismay, the man was starting to speak. Gile. Gile Askara. Mentally, before he said it loudly, he mulled over the strange name. In an almost inaudible whisper, he mouthed the name once under his breath, as if testing how well he can pronounce it. How amusing, despite all circumstances. The short thought about the man’s name was banished to the furthest crevices of his brain, with the latter part of the sentence echoing ominously to drown out anything else he had been thinking about. There was an indescribable feeling that filled his tightening chest; it was that of fear, despair and uncertainty all at once. Whilst somewhat expected, hearing the spoken reply only gave this reality a palpable shape. An undeniable fact that gives no chance for hopes or wishes. Why was he cast down? Why was this happening? Perhaps, because he somehow deserved it. After all, everything happened for a reason as the logical conclusion would be. Was this not what he had always thought, believed, and trusted in? His future from now on, was just as nebulous as the furthest stars. The paling boy, was frozen in time, and in place, as his head reeled to process the finality of his fate. While Gile’s hand tended to the cloak he was wrapped in, the boy’s green orbs were moist with the welling of tears, but even those, were frozen in place, too. Only the gentle hug, helped jolt him out of his momentary stupor. At first, there was a faint sniffle, followed by the quivering of someone who barely held back the need to weep. There was no protest to the embrace, and instead, Yazata’s trembling figure merely succumbed to it. Despite the candid delivery, the man sounded truthful and quite sure. And yet, it still did not feel any less surreal. The hug, as brief as it was, absorbed at least part of the unpleasant shock. This kindness was to be relished and appreciated, in a moment of dire anguish. The dipping sense of alarm slightly helped the boy relax, at least enough for his tense body to loosen and unwind with a small sigh. Tired and confused, he had a lot he wanted to ask about what this world -his new home, as Gile put it- is supposed to be, and so little to do by himself in a place that was so completely foreign and unusual. And perhaps, just perhaps, there will be a way back for him to find. Maybe, until then, he can learn to survive in whichever realm this is. Surely, Syna will not be leaving him to this torment for long. Ever the believer of goodness in fate, the youth held onto that feeble hope desperately. “Kenash.” The fallen murmured, with a voice that was still heavy with strain. This was no home of his, but his own had forsaken him and now, he will have to rely on the word of the only person he knows. Gile was, undeniably, comforting enough for the shaken boy to be around. “Where is home? Where to go?” Or rather, a better question to ask would be, where will the man be taking him? But no matter the answer, the heartbroken sky dweller saw no option but to comply and follow.

[Gile Askara]

Gile Askara Gile sighed inwardly, it seemed that while his voice went through to the boy, his heart did not. He could not heal the rift that the boy must be feeling, it was mildly irking, to know that it was simply out of his control, he needed more power, if he was stronger such a situation would never be beyond his control, as it was he would have to accept his flaws and move on. Sighing Gile thought about what to do with the boy. They were on the shore of Dry island, thinking of nearby shops and locations he could drag the boy too he smiled slightly when one came to mind, it was only a short walk away from where they were as well, It was also run by the Sitai... another Dynasty but at the very least the Askara and the Sitai had always been on good terms so in return for a favor it was likely he could easily have their services rendered quickly, and quietly. Again the boy spoke bringing Gile out of his thought. “Where is home? Where to go?” It was an odd question, or more exactly an oddly phrased question, Shrugging it off as the boy still being confused Gile smiled at him. "For now, you may consider me home, as for where we are going, it's a surprise." with that Gile Scooped the boy up, carrying him bridal style. He expected him to be a bit heavy even for how thin he was but he was surprised at how light he was. Perhaps he wasn't made out of the same stuff he was. he had to weigh less than half of what Gile weighed. Shrugging at the development he was just happy that he wouldn't break too horrible a sweat as long as he paced himself slowly. Walking off of the beach Gile walked towards the nearby building that made up the inner part of Dry island. within about two minutes he'd reach his destination. "you really mustn't cry, not yet anyway, I'll only ask that you hod back the tears those beautiful eyes of yours are holding back for a while, once we reach a safer place, Home, you may cry as long as you see fit, until then try to be tough for me." As he walked into the proper of the island he made sure that the hood of the cloak was over the boys head, he would need to obscure the horns for certain. Beyond that the walk was simple enough, Gile was not the biggest man, nor the most imposing but only a few were scattered about in such early hours, and of them most were either slave or freeborn, Gile would happily stare down anyone who challenged him in the morning hours, inform them that too cross him was to cross the Askara, a hard glare would follow and if needed a djed laced threat never hurt. After finishing up the walk Gile smiled, he'd arrived at where he wanted to be. The turban, the perfect place to get an outfit that suited his little friend. The building was small and obscure, it was passed by rumor and reputation, though the Sitai Askara, and any other family that had the slightest inkling of interest in the more theatrical things in life. Softly setting the Boy down Gile took him by the hand and led him into the shop, down the main corridor, and into the store, where clothing of all sorts littered the walls. Addressing the woman who ran the place with a smile Gile proceeded to pull the boy willing, in front of himself. Then without warning he would pull the cloak down and toss it aside. Staniding Behind the boy he would hug him to himself, and peer over his shoulder grinning at himself for being so Mischievous. One arm under the boys armpit and across his thin chest, his other hand concealing the boys nether regions, he didn't want to embarrass him too horribly. He was counting on the boys mild case of shock to prevent him from reacting to quickly, after all it was likely he was exhausted, and in Giles favor a little easier to play with. "Madam! I bring before you a work of art! As an Askara, I would beseach thee to help me dress him in an outfit worthy of my family name. Of course, money is no object, and I'm sure i can repay you for this sudden and early request. My name Gile Askara, and I never forget a favor" Nodding slowly the woman would look to the pair mildly surprised at first before resigning herself to Gile's whims. Not that it didn't hurt to have added a little Djed into his words to convince her to do as he asked. The word favor was laced with seduction, a desire to please. However it came with a price, in the morning excitement He'd been using his magic a bit excessively. The mild taste of iron in his mouth informed him that he shouldn't be using any more Djed for a, little bit, at least not from his mouth. "Of course Gile... we can dress up this... friend... of yours." Choosing her words carefully the woman Agreed, before beginning to look the boy over. "so what did you have in mind." "I'm not too sure madam, I'm sure the three of us together can come up with something though."

[Zailey]

Zailey was still following the pair, staying at a distance she thought would draw the least attention. The only trouble was that from that distance, she couldn't hear a single word exchanged between the two. Nor could she see the stubble hug clearly, her paranoia telling her that the man with the cape was trying to keep the dainty person from struggling or running. With a stern gaze and determination, she was going to thwart this alleged abduction. There was no going back now; she only hoped that her pole and tackle box were hidden well enough. After just a few ticks she was surrounded by buildings on the left and right. The streets were still quiet and few people were out. That made it easy to keep track of the pair she followed. However, with so much of her attention occupied, Zailey failed to notice the unsettled brick sticking out of the ground ahead of her. Slamming the toe of her shoe against it, she lurched forward, the momentum forcing her arms out in front of her. The surprise of it was evident in the way her features twisted and the way her breath caught in her throat. It quickly changed to relief though, when she somehow managed to catch herself. The near accident had drawn curious glances from onlookers, making Zailey chuckle nervously and give a quick wave before picking up her pace and hurrying onward. It only took a moment to spot the pair in the thin crowd, and closing some of the distance between her and them made it even easier. She would have to be more careful now. Which would prove difficult given her lack of skill and watchful eyes already locked on her. However, those who watched, also moved out of her path. Making passage easy until the door to a building opened and a man stepped out into her path. Zailey lacked the necessary coordination, reaction time, and athletic skill to dodge him. Their shoulders crashed together, sending the man backwards and against the door he had walked out of and putting Zailey on her bum."Sorry," she hollered before picking herself up and dusting off her pants. She got up just in time to see the pair she was after, entering an ordinary looking building. Zailey hurried after them, coming to a stop at the closest corner of the building. Taking a moment to regain some composure, she tried to smooth out some unruly strands and waited for her breathing to even out. After a few ticks, she glanced through a window, but her vision was mostly obscured by bright and pastel frills. She admired the beautiful dresses and the elegant fabric used, feeling a tinge of jealously toward the girls she had seen strolling through town wearing similar attire. Now was no time to consider becoming a princess though. Scooting toward the door, she looked inside and saw her targets back. It was a perfect opportunity to slip inside unnoticed, but to horror, a small silver bell cheerfully announced her entrance. She might have recovered from that misstep if the next thing hasn't happened... Zailey felt two strong hands on her back forcing her to step forward and brace herself against Gile. With a quick breath, she recoiled, looking behind at the person that had shoved her. A tall, muscular, gruff man stood there with his hairy arms crossed over a barrel chest, glaring eyes, and scowling lips. Undoubtedly fearsome. "Askara," he yelled, "this cretin been following you all the way from the beach." The behemoth craned his neck, stepping forward on one foot, and shoving an accusing finger in Zailey face. "I don't know who she is, or what she wants, but she looks like trouble to me." He growled the words before leaning back on his heels and effectively barricading the door. "Me," Zailey asked incredulously, "you're the one picking on a little girl," she retorted, venom on her tongue. "I'm not the one behaving suspiciously, lass," there was a hint of danger in the tone he used. "Don't blame me," she wined, "he's the one who's acting suspicious," pointing to Gile. By then a mixture of anger and embarrassment had turned Zailey face bright red. She was angry that she had been, in her mind, falsely accused, and embarrassed that she was behaving the same way she did in Riverfall as a child when her older brothers told their parents about the mischief she got herself into.

[Darshan]

Darshan quickly made his way out of his home just after he had freshly concocted a somewhat concentrated dose of pillow-sap. Darshan dressed in a rather typical attire for the day; black clad in his three piece suit with a lack for a tie. Around his right hands middle finger he wore a “ring” with a mysterious and incredibly sharp protrusion from the side of the ring that rested in between his digits until the time came that he would make use of it. Beneath the black and white folds of cloth in his sleeve he wore a utility bracer with three needles coated in pillow-sap attached and ready to fire. Alongside the needles were two vials of his own venom just encase he had to engage in combat in the open; after all in a dangerous place like Kenash one always had to be prepared to defend themselves.

As he paced down the street with a very charismatic walk; his brow arched due to the fact that he saw something strange. A group of people that waltzed into a shop, and Darshan did not hesitate to follow suit. He was not a man above stalking his prey in order to gather information about them before he made his move; Darshan was a rather smooth individual after all. He would make it appear as if he were shopping, and make his move then. He saw a familiar individual among the group of three; the one with the freckled face and the red hair. She was the woman he encountered a few days prior in a herb shop. However, there was one among them that truly stood out; Darshan disregarded the other male and set his sights upon the strange looking one.

He looked like a “Star-child” in Darshans eyes; he was worth quite a pretty miza. However, Darshan had to figure out exactly how he would diffuse the situation and separate the other two from him. The Dhani shook his head from left to right violently which caused his hair to whip about for a moment, and it was then that he made his move. With his weapon concealed, and a small vial of clear liquid at the center of his sternum he approached with a friendly face. For now he would attempt to deceive them all; he would act like a worker at the establishment. The Dhani was certainly dressed appropriately for the act, and now all he had to do was execute it.

Prior to his approach he listened carefully to several of the words spoken; the disgusting man was a Dynasty member. His name was “Gile Askara” he was completely and totally unaware of the young man that accompanied him. Darshan had already known Zailey, and as he approached confidently he first locked eyes with the only man he perceived as a threat in the situation. Darshan extended his right hand to the dynasty member, and with a friendly smile he introduced himself.

“Why hello there you three! My name is Darshan, it is nice to meet you. I'm familiar with you Zailey, but your other friends here? Who are they?” He beckoned as if he were clueless despite the fact that he had not been.

Darshan revoked the idea of playing the role of a worker; due to the fact that they were currently with another individual who decided to help them dress the other person. Hopefully the subliminal message he spoke to the group would not be realized, and they could carry on about their day. Darshan was generally a man of very few words, but when it came to the manipulation of others, and attempting to gain their trust he surely did not mind pulling strings whenever they were available. Words and stuff

[Yazata]

Yazata. It was a fairly odd concept, to consider the man named Gile his home. But considering his current circumstances, and the lack of any real choice in the matter, this offer was still very much appreciated. A surprise. This whole day is still one big surprise for him, starting with his ungraceful fall, and now...this. A tiny, involuntary yelp escaped the fallen’s lips, when he found himself lifted off the ground and up into the other’s embrace. Despite the flux of bitter emotions and dark thoughts, the boy tensed for only a fleeting second, before loosening into the hold. Slender arms wrapped around the man’s neck to secure himself in place, while his chin rested on Gile’s shoulder, looking back at the golden shore they were leaving behind. Promptly, the youth exhaled a soft sigh, but spoke nothing in complaint. Gile was very much free to take him wherever, and it was not merely because the boy could do nothing about it. This foreign land, he stood no chance of going anywhere in it on his own, and he understood that very well. If there is anything he can find solace in, it would be the fact that he had been fortunate enough to be in the care of a nice enough man. Perhaps this Kenash, will not be such a terrible place to live in, after all. “I…” The horned being paused, breathed in, sniffled, and shook. “Okay.” The quiet single word of compliant understanding followed the boy’s bubbling resolve to curb his misery. This will not do, it will not do at all. No amount of crying, or wishful thinking, is likely going to help him in any way. It would make far more sense for him to brave himself, and uphold his faith in the fairness of destiny. While the road twisted, and the scenery changed, he found himself staring through the lowered hood, in a mixture of awe and curiosity, at the very unfamiliar yet still intriguing surroundings. Not many people traversed the nearly empty streets, and the tranquility of early morning was all the more pleasant in the wake of his harsh landing. The moment his bare feet touched solid ground once again, he readily followed his guide inside, into a building that was both odd and quaint. This place, as strange as it is, was not without its charms. Instantaneously, Yazata’s attention was effectively grabbed by the rather lavish display of clothing. Garments of all styles and sorts, colorful fabrics, intricate embroidery. The sight provided a much needed distraction for the boy, who let himself be led by the hand until he was pulled and placed to stand before the slightly larger male. There was a gasp of surprise both at the abrupt removal of the one article that kept him decent, and the chill that came after that. Slightly, the now bare form squirmed, then stilled. Redness seeped into the porcelain cheeks and tinted it a faint shade of pink. He was not sure if he should be embarrassed, or grateful for Gile’s strategic placement of limbs. When the man spoke again, the boy took in what was said with attentive concentration. Not really sure why he was deemed ‘a work of art’, that part was quickly ignored. It appeared that Askara, was a name well-known enough for Gile to use it for persuasion. Clearly financially secure, as well. Although, naturally, the name still meant nothing to a ‘foreigner’ like him. Bashfully, he met the woman’s examining gaze with a puzzled one of his own. The somewhat distant chiming of a bell signaled the entrance of yet another visitor, but the youth did not spare much attention to that until he felt the soft impact and turned his head promptly to inquire of the source. Not even a tick later, a most rowdy conversation was taking place between the newly arriving patron, and a rather large man he did not even notice was there prior. Instinctively pressing himself against the only one he knew here, the fallen struggled to keep up with what was going on before him now. Accusations were exchanged and confusion only mounted, until yet another person made their way into the scene with a confident yet friendly presentation. By now, he did not even make the attempt to try and understand what was going on, and just found it a better alternative to go with the flow of things. While loud, the girl seemed quite unlikely to cause harm, and the man in the dark suit even less so. Zailey, he called the female, so that must be her name. And, introduced himself as Darshan. These names, he will have to try and remember them. “Yazata.” His own name was uttered softly, accompanied by a small smile, and a hand placed on his chest for affirmation. “You are...friends?”.