[Khamsin Inn] Beginnings Pt. I [Tazrae]

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Beginnings [Tazrae]

Postby Alric Lysane on December 24th, 2021, 5:51 pm



He laughed at her words about horns and stubbornness, the fact that she was beginning to feel like she could mock him – if affectionately – was a good sign. It would be quite dull indeed if they could not make fun of each other every so often. Besides which it was soothing to have something other than magic and studies to lighten the mood, too much darkness could be just as damaging as too little, he knew. After a while he subsided into chuckles, deciding not to point out that she had quite the stubborn streak herself.

“It is getting late,” he conceded, though he did not feel tired, if anything he felt more awake than before despite the day’s trials, “and I would like your company, I would even if there was no magic to be done though you are a balm for the learning”

There was little else to say as she set about making sure the fire would be serviceable for the night, and with little to do but watch and listen he tried for one more attempt at using his Djed, her previous words about other senses being used tugging at his curiosity. He returned to the pool within himself, the one she thought was so large though he had no frame of reference for comparison, and touched it once more, this time forcefully grabbing a handful and pulling back from the rest. He tugged and pushed it, this time into his nose and he carefully sniffed the air, focusing his attentions upon Taz. She smelled of fruits and flowers on the surface, but beneath there was an earthy tone to her, a unique blending of scents that filled him with the sense of wildness and a breathy freshness. He pushed the remnants of the Djed into his ears and there was a very faint melody, a blending of sounds that seemed muted to him – he did not think that hearing was something that came naturally to him then, like her and sight.

He did know, though, that he would remember that scent for a lifetime, and it had filled him with a lightness of spirit that he had not felt much of lately. His attention was brought back to her as she started to remove her dress, again surprise losing him his grip upon the last flickers of Djed. For some reason the fact that she was wearing undergarments made it more difficult not to stare, though he did try to take his eyes off of her. He would have thought after spending most of his evenings watching performers possessed of very niche talents, he’d have grown used to it, the way she saw it, but apparently not. She had a grace and form to her that was different than the others, and what was more he saw beyond the flesh to the woman.

“Yes, just a…body” he muttered to himself, too low for her to hear properly.

“Sleep Taz, I look forwards to being squeezed to death by you later,” he said, finally breaking his gaze from her skin with a series of yawns, “but I will stay up a while longer yet”

He was feeling quite fatigued, a deep sense of tiredness starting to creep upon him but not yet to the point he’d sleep beyond a little while before waking with bad dreams once more. He had learned of late that a little while longer of open eyes brought deeper and more restful sleep, as if his mind were simply too drained to show him the horrors anymore. He picked up his journal, turned to a new page and with a piece of charcoal sifted from the edge of the flames he looked at her, eyes closed and seeking slumber. He drew slowly, smudging it out where it went wrong, outlines first and then inner detail. He was no artist but it was less about accuracy and more about the feel of the thing. He had started to be more creative of late, his time spent researching and finding new knowledge opening doors he hadn’t stepped through in many seasons.

By the end he was reasonably happy with the likeness, though he acknowledged it was more how he saw her than an accurate rendering, the flaws smoothed over and the sharper edges curved slightly. The hair had given him some trouble until he had realised it was mad as it was, escaping all of the time, and so he simply had his own fun at her with the wild wiggles and curls. Sighing he finished his last bit of wine, threw the blanket to the side and crawled into the bed.

Strangely it wasn’t uncomfortable, not that he was awake long enough to really think about it much, his eyes closed quickly and the tiredness they ached with slipped over him and the darkness enveloped him.



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Alric Lysane
Reluctant Nymkarta
 
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