Closed By the Letter (Clyde)

[Sayana]

Fall 11, 517 AV

The knock on the door came as a surprise. She was just sitting down to eat dinner with Shiress. The Eypharian got up warily and the knock was repeated louder and more persistently. With a glance to her slave, Sayana reached out to open the door.

The boy was young, surely no more than his early teens but thin as a twig and surpassing Sayana’s height. “We were just having dinner…” She began.

“I have a letter addressed to Sayana, mistress of Clyde Sullins, from Ebonstryfe Commander Clyde Sullins.” The lad said and held out the folded piece of parchment. It had Clyde’s handwriting on it and she spotted her name.

That changed everything.

“Come inside. Have a seat. I don’t want you to go until I’ve read this, in case I want to make a response.” Sayana gestured vaguely indoors with her multitude of arms and was already opening the letter and walking across the room to the bedroom so she might read the letter in private.

He was back. Back in Ravok.

Each word she read with baited breath, while some she had to speak softly so she might sound out the combination of letters. Even as she sat on the edge of the bed looking at the written word, a wash of emotions flooded her. Joy, excitement, relief… Oddly the feeling of loneliness sharpened, and turned into something she couldn’t stand for a chime longer. She wanted to see him. She had to see him. And she wanted to do so now.

When the Eyphraian emerged from the bedroom, she also had the other letter in hand that Clyde had sent in the previous season. The one she had horded for safe keeping, not knowing when she would see the mage next or where he was headed to. But now that he had returned, there was no need of it.

“Excuse me, would you please check the spelling of this one word…” Sayana asked the boy as she held out the first letter, unfolded and open for him to take. Already she was preparing res in her right high hand for what she was expecting next.

The apprentice took the letter and glanced down, starting to read the… A sudden eruption of flame and smoke ignited the parchment, and the lad dropped the letter in surprise.

Within ticks, transmuted water sizzled on the flames and Sayana quickly stamped out the remaining flames on the floor with her boot. Much like a mother, she took the boy’s hands and inspected them for signs of burns. If there was anything, it was too small to notice, and likely more of a surprise for the boy than any real pain.

“Seems like we’re done playing with fire. We’ll be leaving shortly. No, not you, Shiress. You’ll stay here to mind the house. You’ll have a chance to see Clyde later in the season.”

“But it’s already evening. I just spent four bells crossing the lake…”

“I know. And I’m going to see Clyde tonight.”

Letter in question

Credit: Shimoje

[Sayana]

Within five chimes, the Eypharian had gathered up any clothes or belongings she would need for the Lakeshore. Bag slung over her shoulders, and cloak wrapped around her frame, she gave the lad a brief grin.

“So I hear that Clyde Sullins likes to meditate with candles?”

To solidify any doubt, she gave a double wave with her right hands. Unfortunately, her right mid was still healing and remained as if stuck to her lower stomach, wrapped in bandages.

"But that's not what he..." The boy began, recalling the precise wording of the passphrase the Ebonstryfe commander had given him.

Sayana gave a huff and narrowed her eyes as she pulled out the letter once more. "Meditating on candles?" She spoke, without yet finding the phrase in question. "Meditating of candles. There. Happy?" There was a hint of annoyance in her voice, but it reminded her that it was Clyde, most definitely Clyde, who would be a stickler for words and semantics. When at last the boy relented, she bid Shiress a good night, and promptly hailed a ravosala as they got to the canal.

“But you’re not going to be able to get across. The winds calm down in the evening and the ships stop sailing to the lakeshore.” The lad protested as they got into the ravosala.

“Ravosalas still travel.”

“But ravosalas have poles.”

He raised a fair point as they headed towards the shipyard. But one way or another, she was determined to get there. As they neared their destination, Sayana could only feel the soft breezes of the early evening. Syna was still high in the sky, but her descent was imminent. The Eypharian nearly leapt off the ravosala upon arriving at the shipyard and almost forgot to hand over a few coins for the fare.

“How much for a trip to the lakeshore?” She called out to the sailors milling around the wharves.

“Five gold mizas. First thing tomorrow morning.” A man with a large hat and an even larger beard called out.

“I’ll pay you fifty gold to take me over tonight.”

“Fifty gold, eh? The winds don’t work that way. They don’t care if you toss a thousand gold into Lake Ravok.”

Sayana resisted the urge to scowl, and instead calmly looked around the shipyard. “What about that one?” She said, pointing to a medium sized ship with about a dozen oars coming out of the side.

“You and what army? You’d need at least twenty people to…”

Sayana let out a loud whistle that could be heard across the shipyard. There were men and women milling about doing errands and many looked up.

“Have you all heard about the project to build a road south? I have just received word from Clyde Sullins, commander of the Ebonstryfe, that more recruits are needed. Pay is good and the goal is even better. You can build something great, all in Lord Rhysol’s name. We’re making good progress, but a new section will commence first thing tomorrow morning. I promised I would not come empty handed.”

There were curious faces and stirrings, but also dark mutterings from those who had seen her extra arms. She hadn’t been taking her usual precautions to keep them hidden.

“And you want us to get to the Lakeshore with no wind?” A man called out from one of the docks.

“Do you think I’m looking for scrawny men, too weak to heft an oar? No, those men and women can stay home and leave the road building to the fit and strong. Who here has their own supplies? Tents, big or small? Basic tools, hatches, axes, saws, shovels?”

A few hands were raised. She was obviously gaining some attention, but still there was doubt and even suspicion of her. It was time to seal the deal.

Spinning around to address the entirety of her audience, Sayana spoke loud and clear, and this time with an overtone of hypnotism ringing in her voice. There was passion, drive, and the desire to succeed. It infiltrated not only her audible voice, but also the minds of those nearest to her. The power of emotion.

“Who among you are devoted to Rhysol? Ready to bend your backs, reap the fruits of your labour, and be remembered for centuries to come? Who is willing to serve your lord and god, even at a moment’s notice?”

It was in that moment that she sent out as many flashes as she could. The image was simple. It was that of a solar eclipse.

A few cheers erupted and she gave her final instruction. “Come back in twenty chimes, packed, ready and onboard our chosen ship. Then we will set out, wind or no wind.”

“And you sir,” she addressed the captain before her, as the crowd hastily dispersed. “You’ll see that the ship is ready to set out across the lake.” There was a momentary grimace from the man, but at last he relented.

The young lad, nearly forgotten at Sayana’s side suddenly piped up, “But it’s just a road. All this honor and devotion for…”

“So? I said that I was going to see Clyde Sullins tonight.”

---

The hastily put together crew was soon aboard the ship. She had managed to convince seventeen men and women to join her. A small group of sailors also joined them, but only enough to sail the ship back come the morrow. As they pulled away from the docks, sinking the long oars into the water and heaving as they went, a small breeze caught the sails and they were able to gain some additional speed. Sayana frequently shouted out words of encouragement and seized control of a drum to keep a synchronized rhythm of the oars.

Syna continued to sink in the sky, but despite all the challenges, they made good time and the days were still long up in the north. Three to four bells later, they were arriving at the docks of the South Trading Post. Leth had taken the place of Syna and with only a word of encouragement suggesting that the new recruits set up camp near the shore in the moonlight, Sayana struck out guided by the apprentice to find Clyde.

It was dark, but the small settlement around the trading post did not take long to cross. Sayana held her cloak wrapped about her to keep off the chill of the night. All the while her bandaged right mid hand and wrist was held tenderly to her stomach. When the boy finally pointed out the campsite and tent which he was certain was Clyde Sullins’, Sayana marched up to it and spoke in a loud clear voice.

“Clyde! Commander Clyde Sullins of the Ebonstryfe. There is one last thing for you to do before the night is through…”

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

11 Fall 517

Clyde had been asleep when he heard his name being called.

“What the petch...”

His tent, more of a small canvas pavilion really, towered over him. At least, towering compared to the smaller one man tents most of the soldiers used. Clyde's was a bit larger, high enough that the top of his head only just hit the ceiling near the middle, though making him stoop a bit on the lower edges. Its contents were also relatively simple, though likewise better than the common soldiers.

Inside the tent was a small desk with a stool where he could sit to write, a chest for his clothes and things, and a wood and canvas cot with a bedroll and blanket atop it where he slept. Those things almost filled the entire tent, still relatively small being a tent, and there wasn't much standing room or empty space inside around the furniture. His rank did merit extras and a nicer tent, but only so much at his rank.

When he'd been asleep Cha had been resting against the edge of the tent, her wooden face resting across his side and back. As he turned and awoke though he found her in his hand, his hand reaching and snatching her instinctively as if he was in a well lit room and taking up a clearly visible thing. By his connection to her they were never apart, and he knew where she was like his left foot.

Rolling off the cot Clyde rose and willed a tiny ball of res to emit from the top of Cha, whose outer core he ignited as flame. Able to see somewhat now Clyde moved to a small lantern on the desk, and broke off a tiny spark to light the wick within and set the oil burning.

A light now formed Clyde let the flames die off, re-absorbing the small bit of excess res. Rubbing at his eyes Clyde headed to the entrance to the tent, using his free hand to undo the simple clasps that held it closed. Once he opened it other lights trickled in, more than the bit that had come through the tiny crack, and the lantern inside became visible outside at his back.

Clyde had to be up early, and so wasn't happy to be awoken before he needed to be. He wasn't in his uniform at the moment, armor not being good to wear to bed, instead wearing some simpler clothes without any shoes. He also, for some reason, was wearing a thick furred hat.

“What?!” Clyde started, before his eyes fell on Sayana. By instinct he reached out through Cha, a tendril of aura sight latching onto the woman. Almost the moment he touched her aura he knew it was her, the unique aura familiar to him and clearly who he thought. Still, he almost always checked. A small grin began to form on his face, and Clyde took a step towards her. However the frown dipped as he noted within her aura something off, finding the bandaged arm and hand as he examined her physical appearance within her aural sight. Her injuries were new, and disconcerting.

Clyde did his best to replace the smile, though his worry clouded the expression. Opening his arms, Clyde took another step forward towards her, as if offering her to run into his arms.

“Say! Its good to see you again, even at this bell... What are you doing here? And what happened to your arm?”

Clyde said this last part with a tone of anger, but not one aimed at Sayana.

[Sayana]

When the mage opened his arms, Sayana immediately closed the gap and flung her high arms over his shoulders and around his neck while her lows wrapped around his waist. Her mids stayed between them, her left protecting her right from any further injury or discomfort. But her mind wasn’t on her injury. She was more glad that he was here and he was back.

“When I got your letter, the second one, I didn’t want to wait till morning to see you.” She explained as if it was obvious and reason enough. “For a while, I didn’t know when I would see you next.”

At his question regarding her arm, or more specifically her wrist in this case, she backed off just enough to give them space between them, yet not unhooking her highs from around his neck.

“My arm? It doesn’t matter, it’s healing. Shiress says maybe in another dozen days I can use it again.” The use of the word ‘another’ implied that it hadn’t just happened a few days ago and that the healing had already taken some time.

“But look at you, in that big furry hat!” She exclaimed and ran her highs over the soft fur. “Getting ready for winter already? Will we have one? Or does Rhysol protect us from that?” She was redirecting the conversation away from her injured arm, speaking upon anything else.

“And is Rye with you? I didn’t see him. But of course, being Rye and all, he’s hard to see even during the daylight.”

By this point, the apprentice that had brought her to Clyde’s tent would be trying to avoid lingering too long. It was obvious that the pair were sharing personal moments, but at the same time the apprentice would stay just long enough in case the Ebonstryfe commander required anything further of him.

Sayana for her part, wanted nothing more than to be close to her lover. Eventually when she let go from their embrace, she still remained close to him on his left side, always with at least one arm partially wrapped around him. Part of her longed to ask about what had happened in the forests of Sylira when they had met the tree people, yet at the same time she didn’t want to bring up those memories and preferred to keep the mood light.

“So um, Clyde? You know how you said you’re building a road south for your duties as Ebonstryfe? I may have gotten a few more laborers to help out…” Her tone was part bashful but also part suppressed glee at the accomplishment.


OOCYou might need to work on your interrogation methods to get more info out of her

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

It wasn't lost on Clyde how Sayana flung herself upon him, namely how she avoided contact with her wounded limb cradled by its pair.

By the reaction it was safe to say the wound wasn't new, if she had already grown accustomed to reacting so as to further aggravate it. Her further words in address to it further proved this point.

He was a bit surprised to see her so soon, wounded or not, and he was left to ponder how she'd managed to do so at the hour it was.

It also wasn't lost on Clyde how she tried to lead him away in the conversation, nor how she tried to play off the hurt. A growing gut feeling from the information he'd obtained led him to believe she hadn't injured herself. She'd be ashamed if that was the case, but tell him... Or at least he thought as such.

As she was trying to play off the injury and the subject left him with the impression that someone else had injured her. If long enough ago perhaps worse than just the one arm, if other injuries had healed.

Frowning Clyde made it clear her game hadn't worked, and he wasn't one to be so easily deterred.

“Winter will come out here, on the shore, but in the city proper on the lake it will stay temperate. As for Rye, I believe he's out about, skulking off in some shadow nearby. He'll come if I call.”

Clyde had in fact forgotten about the dog, and in the events of her arrival he'd forgotten about it. Hidden in the shadows near the tent he'd left Rye to guard and doze at night when he was of most use, sending him off to sleep in the day. Inside the city he did the opposite, but at night outside in the wilds he felt better knowing Rye was awake and on guard than having him by him in a well lit day when he could see something coming at him.

Rye would come if he felt Clyde was threatened, but he'd been taught over time to not growl or react at Sayana, and so stayed hidden of somewhere blended into the dark.

Noticing the apprentice he'd sent to deliver the letter, Clyde made a quick nodding gesture away. The apprentice understood and darted off, likely to return in the morning.

Clyde returned the embrace, somewhat awkwardly as he still held Cha as always, keeping his eyes and Aura on Sayana.

He was about to bring up the arm once more, when Sayana distracted him for the first time by her latest comment about workers. Her tone wasn't lost on him, and Clyde let out a sigh as he stroked his free hand at her waist.

“Say, your nothing but trouble, you know that.” The words belied the fact that his tone and expression was playful at his words.

“I'll find them something to do in the morning, there is plenty of work and manual labor to be done. They'll be put to work. But I'll deal with that in the morning. Why don't we retire to my tent, and we can talk and reacquaint ourselves after being apart.”

Growing serious for a moment, Clyde placed his hand on her cheek, making sure she was meeting his eyes.

“But just remember, you are with me. If someone harms you, while you are under my name, that is not something I can just let go. Even if I was willing to do so, to let someone hurting you go, which I'm not... Even if I was, I couldn't let it go. That would be tantamount to letting someone attacking me go.”

This was the closest Clyde had yet come to outright calling upon the wording of the oath, though perhaps not even by those words fully calling upon it. But it was certainly hinting at doing so, and the closest Clyde had come to doing so depending upon how Sayana took his words.

“I expect to hear the full story later, so that I can properly respond to it. But not now. For now, lets go be alone. But soon Say, soon. Okay?”

Assuming Sayana agreed Clyde would lead her into the privacy of his tent, tying the the entrance back shut at the ties and sealing most of the light of the lantern within its confines. While it wasn't soundproof, it kept off prying eyes, and was as much privacy as one could get in the middle of such a camp.

[Sayana]

OOCGet ready for a long one!

Sayana smiled when Clyde confirmed that that his dog was around. Even though she couldn’t see Rye, she was fond of the shadowy dog and was glad of his presence. There was a momentary pout and then a grin when he called her out as trouble, and she leaned into his body, adjusting her injured arm as necessary, as he moved his hand along her waist. The extra work force would easily be dealt with. Frankly by either of them. A small consideration to be made for the reward of being together.

As the mage placed a warm hand upon her cheek, she looked up into his blue eyes. As he spoke, she didn’t turn away or break their mutual gaze. But at the same time, he would see a myriad of expresses, subtle and not so subtle, cross her face. Shame, love, fear, cowardice, anxiety…

She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to tell him everything. Yet she fought so hard to earn a place in Ravok. It was her fight, her consequences. She wasn’t a hopeless child without his guidance and protection. But… She wasn’t afraid of the mage, not now. She hadn’t been for a long time. She was afraid of the unknown powers that awaited her, or that awaited them.

A gnawing itched at her heart and at her soul. She was reminded once more that their relationship, its success or demise, represented potential permanent damage. Of course, it was also in her own best interest based on how she felt towards Clyde. The words came down hard as a hammer when he essentially, not quite, but nearly equated her own well-being with his.

Like a bubble ready to burst she took a breath and… the pin-prick never came. Instead the mage smoothly postponed the topic of conversation and invited her inside the tent.

Numbly, she nodded and tried to regain some semblance of composure. She delicately stepped into the tent after him. It was quite large and she didn’t even have to duck for most of the space. The desk was no surprise, really, despite how it would be awkward if he needed to set up camp somewhere new. The lantern filled the tent with a friendly glow and the bed, or cot, was a welcome sight. They were certainly not meager quarters despite being camped outside the city.

“So you arrived a couple days ago?” She asked as she sat down on the edge of the cot. Despite her attempt to sound interested, there was something sorely lacking in her tone. She simply couldn’t take her mind off the incident that had happened in the summer. How it had happened, the moments after, how she was coping, how she was going to explain it to Clyde. If Clyde had repeated his demand for answers, it might have been easier to put up another barricade, but as it was, it continued to gnaw at her being.

“And did you make it back to Sahova?” Again it was another question to which she barely paid attention to, and inwardly she cursed herself for it. They hadn’t seen each other for more than a season, yet she was too fixated on her own problems to even fully listen and understand the trials that Clyde might have gone through.

As if to remedy this, she sought out tricks and behaviours to relax into her normal self. Two of her left hands traced fondly down his arm and one along his back. She had positioned herself on his right side, so he’d be furthest from her injured wrist. Her eyes then drifted over his body as if looking to see more. But it was hollow. Shadows of behaviour. Shells of well-practiced actions.

At last she couldn’t hold it in any longer. The itch was incessant, the gnawing uncomfortable, and like a child trying to keep a secret, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. After a moment or two trying to formulate her thoughts, she approached it at an angle.

“Clyde, I…” There were several ticks of silence as she took a deep breath and allowed herself to continue. “Clyde, I don’t like being an Eypharian in Ravok.”

It was a strange way to put it. If the mage was particularly receptive, he might notice how very contradictory it was to her usual excessive self-pride. Not only for her individual self but herself as a six-armed Eypharian. Nevertheless, as soon as the first words came out, the rest came in a torrent.

“Getting citizenship was a hassle. Even under your name. I get glances and glares on the streets. It’s now a habit that I wear a cloak to cover my lower sets of arms. And when I do let it slip, people look at me strangely or treat me like I’m lesser or not to be trusted. I don’t like being an Eypharian here.”

It wasn’t just denial of her race. There was something more to the tone in which she spoke. She spoke as if something could be done about it.

“My arm, my wrist…” She let out a soft sigh, more preparing for the words to come rather than anything wistful. “They came at me quickly. It was organized and coordinated. I probably could have dealt some blows in return, I would have liked to have slit some throats, but… Who’s going to take the side of an Eypharian if there are citizens dead? Who’s going to take the side of some probationary citizen?”

She gritted her teeth trying to tone down her rising anger and frustration to continue her story.

“It’s not like I didn’t fight back. I did. Kind of. But I could tell it was planned. It was too well coordinated. And maybe five or six of them. No, six definitely six. I remember their faces. And it hurt like a mother petching… petcher.”

There was a pause after her feeble choice of words. It brought on a momentary smile, but it didn’t last long.

“If Shiress hadn’t been there when I got home… I’m not sure what would have happened. How it would have healed.”

The Eypharian was quiet for several moments. Even after giving a more detailed account of what had taken place, she still glossed over the exact nature of the injuries. Partly, she wasn’t sure of them herself, only that it had hurt like a trip to Hai and back. But partly because it was hard to admit that she had been hung like a broken doll, high arms twisted and wrenched behind her back and legs held aloft so she could be thrown into her ravosala.

“But Clyde, I’m learning that there are other ways I can protect myself. So I can hide, and blend in. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

The Eypharian turned slightly away, curiously modest as some might be if doing makeup or undressing. She then reached within herself, feeling the djed flow through her. Holding out her high arms just a little, she pulled at her djed and let it tingle against her skin. She made rubbing and washing motions with her two arms, focusing on a lightening of colour. Trying to move quickly, she then turned her attention to her face and repeated a similar rubbing. Her skin and complexion grew paler, but due to the rush and her earlier emotional state, the outcome was more varied in colour, almost blotchy looking. She then ran her fingers through her hair as she pictured a sandy colour glittering with Syna’s light. This came out better, since her imagery and concentration were stronger, although a couple of darker hairs persisted as undertones.

Finally she turned around to face the mage. Her entire face and some of her neck would be substantially paler and her hair would almost be a natural blonde. There was a moment of anticipation, since she desperately wanted this to be okay with the mage, and because she truly believed it could be a solution to the hardships she had been experiencing.

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde sat with Sayana, quickly answering her buzzed questions of distraction before she could dwell on them. He focused on her face, her eyes, doing his best to not react a she traced her hands along him. He kept her aura passively inside of his vision, like a peripheral whisping of motion out of the corner of his eye he was aware of but not fully focused on.

“Yes, just a few days ago. And yes, I made it back to Sahova.”

He didn't divulge any more, didn't go onward or explain beyond the barest details and instead waited and gave her the chance to get to the point.

As she spoke Clyde listened, keeping his face neutral while his insides were a swirling mix. Being a human, he'd never fully considered much of the issues she had, and didn't need to deal with them directly. But as she spoke he fully considered her words, and the inherent underlying problem and flow within Ravok. Its contradictory and self abusive nature that ruined its own effect.

As he listened Clyde pondered within his mind, a small side bit of his attention thinking and dissecting even as his main focus listened. Three solutions. Do nothing, go under, or go over. It was a simplified set of answers, but true enough in said simplified situation.

However as she spoke of being attacked Clyde's eyes turned hard, into a storm, an expression that quite clearly conveyed that if those responsible were present right then... They'd not make it two paces.

Multiple assailants attacking her. Coordinated. Planned. If it had been a random act he might have thought otherwise, and even still a bit of himself thought he was being paranoid... But clearly if it was planned Sayana had nothing to do with it. She was but a means. He was the target, and her a means of proving something to him, or to strike at him.

Clyde was about to answer, to respond, when Sayana's tone and intent changed, a ripple across her aura as the colors and shapes roiled and reformed into a new focus. A different emotion and reaction with the woman.

A few moments later he felt the hum of djed upon her, djed focused and ringing outward from her head and hands. While she turned away to block his mundane sight, he could still see within her aura said physical sight. Could see what her body and hands obscured, and could see the changes as they took place.

As she turned to reveal herself Clyde was not surprised, already having seen in its shaping the changes. It was quite clear she was hoping for some acceptance from Clyde, for him to approve and go along with her. Clyde's face took on a mix of sorrow and weight, of a burden being dropped upon his shoulders. But only for a few moments. Then he inhaled, and exhaled, pushing thoughts away to look at them from afar without judgement. Taking in the whole, and reacting in one succinct fashion. His face growing calm on the second exhale, Clyde rose and turned to look at Sayana, uttering a simple “No.”

Before she had a chance to react, to argue, Clyde continued onward into a tirade of his own, equally impassioned though in a different way than Sayana's. Within Clyde it was rather like several odd shapes pieces were turned on their side, fitting anew and into a new image.

“Let me explain, and let me explain fully, all of it, first.” Before he uttered the words Clyde didn't understand or consider them himself, but as they formed he felt their rightness, and felt the idea's within resonate within him.

“There are, at their core, three solutions to any problem. Over, under, or nothing. One can go over a problem, forcing it out of your way. Sometimes this is by force, brute force. Killing, attacking. Or more subtle force, weakening your foe so they are no longer a threat. Making changes, so the problem no longer exists. But regardless, it is your action to take, and being taken.”

“You can also go under a problem. Letting it make choices for you, reacting. Taking the shape it warrants. If everyone who has more than a hundred mizas is robbed on a certain street, you can avoid the street, or stop carrying that much money. It is reactionary, and is accepting of the problem. It is the submission to a problem that it cannot be solved.”

“Or, you can do nothing. Ignore the problem. Generally that doesn't work to well if its your problem, often it works better when its someone else's problem. But some people do it, to varying degrees of success, hoping that if they make no changes, chance won't visit the same problem upon you again.”

“Morphing, changing your shape to an acceptable form, is going under a problem. Not addressing it. Not trying to fix it. Accepting it as a truth. That is something that in this instance, I cannot do.”

Clyde paused for a moment, holding up a finger to make it clear he wasn't done but pausing for effect. He was at his heart a teacher, and knew how to explain so as to not overwhelm.

“Now, this problem is admittedly mine, though you were the one hurt. But I, in ignoring the problem, let it happen. Someone, clearly wanting to strike at me, or to make a point, chose you as an example. Perhaps they thought I'd take the second option, and be cowed. You were simply an avenue to get at me, or so it seems most likely. If this was simply your own problem, if you were the true target, I would let you solve this on your own without my help if you wished. But as its not, I cannot sit by and let you find some solution to fit the problem.”

“Ravok, for all its glory, has a sickness. A taint. It is hungry snake without food, biting at its own tail. Turning on its own. It wasn't so long ago Ravok had such distractions... To a degree at least. But it is not your place to change to suit the problem, the problem itself must be addressed.”

For a moment Clyde was lost in thoughts, of his crucible, of Rhysol, of the Rising Dawn, and events he'd taken peripheral parts in. Breaking from his revery Clyde met Sayana's eyes once more before continuing.

“Magic is to do the impossible. When you begin using it to fit in, to get by, to... Exist and function in society. That, that is wrong. I don't really want you using that magic, morphing, but I certainly don't want you using it to exist. That is wrong. That is not what magic is for. That, is not the solution to our problem. We are not going to go under this problem, but over it.”

“It is one thing to use magic for your own uses, to do what cannot otherwise be done, to gain advantages. While I might not like you learning morphing, for such uses as that while I might not approve I would accept. But I don't want you using it to exist. Down such a path... It is not good. Use magic by your choosing, not by another.”

Turning another piece of the oddly shaped designs within his mind, Clyde made another decision, a shifting of perspective.

“I will find a solution to this problem. We will. By going over it. By changing the city if we must. But we will never go under it. A solution, in some form, can be found. And it will be. For both my, yours, and the cities sake, it must. Lest it end as the snake biting its own tail, not knowing it hurts itself till its too late.”

Clyde spoke matter of factly, as if finding a solution was a done thing and he but simply had to put in the time and effort to make it so. He spoke with no uncertainty, but with the assurance, conviction, self assurance, and rightness that few but Clyde could pull of. Or at least for which few would attempt, or for which few would be convinced in their own rightness enough to attempt it. Clyde, being Clyde, had no such problems in making such statements, nor any such limits in his belief of his own capability.

Pausing, Clyde started and met Sayana's eyes once more as if he'd momentarily forgotten she was there. “Okay, now I'm done.”

[Sayana]

“No.”

The blunt refusal startled her and her magic wavered as she lost focus. Colour returned to her cheeks and arms. The bright blonde of her hair relinquished to her normal rich brown. She was about to reply, summon some sort of rebuttal, but he was having none of that and had already begun his more thorough explanation.

The Eypharian bit her tongue and listened. But even so, her pride stung and she didn’t directly look into his eyes. Instead her gaze was pointed just off center rather than up towards his face. As she listened, her expression remained serious and firm, almost forcefully neutral. It was nothing like the piercing anger she had seen in his eyes earlier.

A flicker of expression broke the still waters as he suggested that the problem might be his. She looked up at him with a hint of surprise. Did he really believe so, or was he just trying to be nice to her? As Clyde carried onto Ravok and its faults, she moved her left high hand to gently clasp the mage’s hand, then enclose it completely using her left mid.

Even though the mage went quiet and drifted into thoughts of his own, she kept her silence. She had been with him long enough to tell that he wasn’t done. And even though she had questions, a multitude, she equally knew that he’d let her speak at a later time. There was a moment in which their eyes met and she didn’t force her gaze away.

Yet as he continued on, and tried to teach her why this use of morphing was wrong, she began to think of counter examples. She used hypnotism frequently and when she pleased, would he say that was wrong too? But what about him and Cha? Did he not use auristics at least once or more a day? How else could he have traced the star for so long and have kept them on its path? Even as the questions danced on the tip of her tongue, she managed to restrain herself until he truly was finished.

“Clyde.”

She paused to compose her thoughts. He had spoken reasonably yet he certainly hadn’t answered all the questions.

“You’re going to go after them, aren’t you? But what will happen in the meantime? If I go out now, just as I am, before anything has been done, it will be no better than your ‘ignore’ option. And if it’s my problem instead of your problem? They mocked me for my arms as they were wrenching my highs behind my back. It may have been just a means to an end, but it might have also been the purpose.”

“And why can’t I keep myself safe in the best way I know how?” Her voice rose with anger for a moment, until she deflated slowly, clamping onto his hand like a lifeline.

“Clyde… how are we supposed to change a city? What if it’s not an isolated event? And if I can’t do morphing and you propose to be my constant escort? How would that make things any better? I need to be able to go out and do things. I have my own livelihood. I got a boat, well, ravosala, and I’ve been able to make my own way. Even still, I occasionally get glares, but I also get nice people too. But that’s because I almost always keep my mids and lows under a cloak. Is that any better? And if I didn’t, then what?”

Even though her thought process shifted from one thing to the next to the next, she did not appear to be completely opposed to his ideas, just the execution.

“But Clyde, you use auristics a lot, don’t you? Cha hardly ever leaves your side. Often I catch you lost in thought or gazing off into something much deeper. Surely you must use auristics at least once a day or more. Why can’t I use morphing? I’m careful. I make small changes. Maybe it’s not fully my choice, but what if it was? What if I was choosing?”

Despite her argument and counter points, she didn’t expect him to budge. He had made his point very clear and all that was likely was another long explanation. Yet at the same time his preposition to ‘go over’ the problem was innately enticing, not like any of her own solutions.

“Clyde… I want to solve this the right way, but I don’t even know where to begin. I feel like I should know, that I ought to know. I can toy with people’s emotions on a whim. But… I just want people to like me.”

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde considered Sayana's words, though did not outright agree with them. Squeezing her hand back, Clyde met her eyes.

“In the meantime? In the meantime, I expect you to be you. Your normal unflinching, amazing self. Not someone else. Not to give in. There is no solution in giving in. Certainly not in the long term. But even in the short term, what is the point of getting by by breaking who you are. By appeasing others. At that point you stop being yourself, and instead become what others want or expect of you.”

Clyde paused for a moment gazing even deeper as if staring into her soul.

“If I had done that, I'd be a nothing blacksmith in Syliras, of no import or value. Just another simple metalworker, going nowhere and with no future beyond the next horseshoe. I want many things for you Sayana, but never that.”

While he spent a lot of time talking, his past was one subject Clyde rarely brought up. While he had met Sayana in Syliras, even then he'd been a mage. A powerful one, one with permission and backing of the knights to work, but still himself. Always himself.

Clyde didn't go into detail, but it was clear even for his normal calm tone that there was a bit of extra emotion and back story related to being himself and Sayana doing likewise.

“I don't expect you to ignore it, or to be cowed. How you want to go about addressing it is up to you. Just know your more important than them, if they should try it again. Your not to go dying just to be nice to a few simpletons. And if needed, make my position on such a situation clear.”

“As for the city, I highly doubt it was an isolated incident. How does one make a journey though? One step at a time. Everything is a question of scale. Bigger scale just means more investment of resources and time. It doesn't mean its any less possible. It doesn't mean giving in and staying home, surrendering, is the solution.”

At the note on his own magic use, Clyde paused, pondering her words for a half chime before speaking. When he did it would likely be clear he'd spent that half chime trying to phrase himself nicely. Whether or not he succeeded was another question.

“As I've said, everything is a question of scale. Not all magic is equal, and not all magic is equal across users. Or even always equal amongst yourself and different magics. What might be difficult to a lesser user of a particular magic, would be a pittance to a master. You've seen me use magic quite freely quite a few times. But how many times have you seen me strain, to truly push myself and use something on the upper end of my capabilities?”

“There is a difference in using magic, in taking a thimble of water from a well versus draining it dry. Most of the magics you've seen me use, Reimancy and Auristics... I've mastered those. Most of their uses I've done about you, have been said pittance. A flicker of notice, a candle being lit amongst a roaring forest fire. Whereas what you speak of, would be draining the well dry, and digging deeper for the brash muddy muck at the bottom, and further still till only blood comes up. Of overgiving.”

“You admitted though that you are new to morphing. What to a master morpher would be as easy and tiring, djed wise, as breathing... To a new user, or even a moderately skilled one, would be taxing to say the least. And constantly using the magic to change yourself and appear not as yourself, that would certainly be taxing if not the death of you. Death if your lucky. For with magic, for those who press too hard, who keep going and go beyond and overgive... That can be worse than death.”

“And if you go changing yourself into a djed drained djed addled husk of yourself trying to do such a thing, that would be much greater harm than anything those men seeing too many arms might. Much more permanent, and harder to see. I've seen them, seen what such former mages become. Seen entire buildings full of them in Zeltiva. People who lose control, who let their magic or others control them, leaving nothing but a shell behind.”

“And those are just the ones bad enough that anyone can easily see the changes. There are many degrees between being visibly changed in the mind, and the first bits of overgiving.”

Clyde shook his head, a saddened expression on his face.

“So long as you let another choose for you, so long as you are cowed and go under a problem, any magic of that is not your choice whatever you might think or say. That is but an animal reacting to pain, shying away by any means they can.”

At her last comment though, Clyde openly smiled.

“Like you? Why the petch would you want that? Half the people aren't worth the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. If you try to please them all, to make them all like you, you'll only drive yourself mad. Better you like yourself, who you are, and those important and worth it. But if you want everyone to like you, magic wasn't a wise choice to make.”

“Any journey begins with a step, and then another, and so on. But don't try to make everyone like you, that is a losing battle. Choose your victories, don't try to take the entire passage in one step. Besides, if they only like you because you've put magic on them, or because you force them, or pay them, or something... Whats the point? Better they make the choice themselves, than you force them and they'd not do it otherwise, by whatever name.”

[Sayana]

Again the mage failed to tell her what she wanted, or what she thought she wanted. He didn’t even budge for ‘in the meantime’. Since she didn’t have an easy retort, nor was she fully certain of her position at that point, she remained silent and continued to hear him out. However when he spoke of what his life could have been in Syliras, the words left her lips out of surprise more than anything else.

“You? A blacksmith?” The softness of his hands, his tall slender build, and his mental intellect far more absorbed in ideas than the physical suggested anything but.

“I like you far better as a mage.”

At last she turned her body towards him so that she might briefly caress his cheek with her high right.

For almost the entire conversation up until now, she had sat rigidly side-by-side with him on the small cot, with only the occasional glance with her head. Her right hands, and most importantly her injured right mid were furthest from his sight even if she had forgotten to factor in his magical sight. Yet now her body angled inwards. Her left low migrated to his thigh while her other lefts still clasped his hand. Her rights were no longer forced to the side and instead rested upon her lap. The bandaging for her wrist was still clearly present, however not as excessive as it once was.

As he continued to talk, she listened attentively for the most part. Occasionally her face twisted in thought as she considered his viewpoint yet was unable to reach a true solution right away. He didn’t present the easy way out, but in terms of the long term, he did raise valid points.

When it came to magic. He was reasonable. Too reasonable. When it came to magic, she frequently enjoyed getting lost in the realm of djed. And yet… Ominous thoughts of getting stuck in a morphed form sent a chill down her spine. To think that she had been so strongly considering morphing her other arms away. When had this happened to her? When had she changed so much?

But when Clyde mocked her desire to be liked, a momentary scowl crossed her face. Yet it was broken almost immediately by the comparison he used.

“Azmashe,” she interrupted. “Not you, of course. Them… It’s a desert saying.” She scraped her boot against the ground then gestured him to continue.

She was somewhat more receptive, yet it was still a hard thing for her to swallow. Especially when it felt like half the city didn’t like her the moment they laid eyes upon her. Even though Clyde spoke reason to her mind, it was a hard adjustment for something so rooted in her body and soul. So for the moment she chose a compromise.

“For the rest of tonight, Clyde, I want to think of no one but you. But wait a tick, I’m not trying to deflect the problem or avoid it. I think you’re right. I should… I should be myself. Arm up with two dozen daggers, or whatever it takes. I’ll find a way. We’ll find a way. But for now…”

She shifted to straddle his lap and leaned in for a deep kiss. Worries and fears seemed to melt away as her high hands cupped around the back of his neck and her mids rested upon his chest. It had been too long. Over a season. Lust, passion, affection… yet she felt something even more. He was an anchor, unshakable, unmovable, even amidst chaos.

She broke the kiss briefly. “I could be Ravok’s first Eypharian noble. Her first Eypharian queen.” Such fantasies were hardly more than that, but were evidence of her slowly adjusting outlook.

Sayana found herself nearly at the mercy of passion when she caught herself with just enough will power to satisfy a different desire, or more like a curiosity that had been slowly developing since she had first met Clyde, since she had first signed his grand oath.

“Clyde?” She asked, eyes level with the mage’s. “I was wondering if I could… see the deeper you, the magical you. Would you grant me permission so that I might look upon and sense your aura?”

Almost the moment she asked, she felt suddenly self-conscious of her abilities in auristics. Yet the curiosity didn’t waver in the slightest.

Credit: Shimoje