SIR JULIEN DAVINOS

" did thaisha say anything about a scar? it would have been on his back— all that is good, they own his soul, don't they? and somehow ... somehow you kept them from having it. " she doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry. the absurdity of this moment makes either a viable option. the sheer irony that the man who hated thjazi fang more than any other person in the world would be keeping his soul tethered to the earth palpable. " i had hoped beyond hope that he would find a way to avoid his death, even if that hope was foolish. "

she feels the weight of julien's hand upon her shoulder and eyes lift to meet his. " but this ... this is not right. he has to go along the path. there must be a shortcut he take so the tachonis will not find him. " her voice is but a whisper, eyes pleading. " i know you have no love for him, julien. but you must help him. you must. "

When she speaks of help, his hand drops from her shoulder. A moment of silence passes. " Help... him? " He questions, incredulous. " My lady, it is not just that I hold no love for him; I hate him. I've always hated him. The idea that his soul is somehow entangled with mine- that this is somehow saving him from a worse fate- it repulses me. "

Julien had always thought her love for him had been misguided. That he had manipulated her into thinking he was something other than he was. Something worthy of someone like her. As her vassal knight he will do anything she commands of him, but he doesn't even know what she's asking.

her eyes fall to the gem in julian's gauntleted hand. the thing pulses with a strange magic that's sings of the work of house tachonis. though it is terrible sight, she feels a sense of comfort settle over her, knowing it is safe in the orchard and that they will find a way to use to make alba whole again. " there are some druids of the old path here who have traveled to help restore the orchard as best they can. i will have them examine it. perhaps they will find what is needed to restore alba back to her—"

her voice breaks off as he continues. he is telling her something important but the more he speaks, the harder she finds it is to follow. the words come to her, fragmented. thjazi. soul. shadow. attached to julien. the lady's eyes drift from julien's face and the look of disgust that crosses it to his shadow on the ground. she feels her stomach lurch, all pretense of proper etiquette thrown to the wayside in favor of her doubling over and retching into a nearby bush. when she rights herself a moment later, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth, she is very pale. " you are ... you're quite certain? "

He takes a step back again as she rights herself. " I won't even pretend I know how any of this works. But my shadow- it started acting on its own. Even interacting with me and other things. Thaisha said it's some sort of... curse? Because I- " He stops himself, realising that Aranessa probably hadn't seem him do this. He manages to look a bit sheepish, at least. " Because I spat on his corpse during the funeral. " He glances at his shadow again, then back to her.

" The Tachonis were looking for him, I think. He- my shadow- it grabbed this off the table where I found the gem. " He takes the letter Koral Tachonis had been penning out of his pocket and hands it to her. He considers telling her about the other moments. The dark hand on his throat in the barrowdell, being dragged down the stairs by his own shadow in Obrimus manor, but he decides not to. He's already given her so much to take in without scaring her further.

Why do you care?

it is not worth arguing, but still hal cannot resist offering a reminder: ❛ aranessa has friends aplenty here. ❜ she would, his tone suggests, have been well supported and well cared for; julien's presence was far from necessitated. admittedly, there may too be plenty here who have little cause to like her, but she would have been safe — and amongst those better suited to share her grief.

He picks his bottle back up and tries to drink from it, then remembers he just emptied it and puts it back down with a groan.

His eyes soften, if only for a moment. " You are my family too, my lady. " He says. The tone of his voice has changed to almost sound pleading. I wouldn't know how to go on without you. It is left unspoken.

“    i   tried,    ”        occtis   says,   exasperatedly,        “    he   didn't   like   it.    ”        he   looks   down,   scratching   pin   behind   his   ears.   his   irritation   softens   as   he   remembers   the   fox's   early   days.        “    he   didn't   want   to   train,   he   just   wanted   to   play.    ”

He looks down at the little fox as Occtis pets him. He is cute though, Julien can't deny that. That doesn't mean he has to admit it either.

his   new   way   of   resting   isn't   as   satisfying   as   sleep,   even   when   he   does   it   to   the   best   of   his   ability.   it   leaves   him   feeling   hollow,   a   meal   made   of   clouds.   he's   always   a   little   tired   at   best,   and   with   everything   that's   happened,   it's   come   to   a   head.

occtis   walks   beside   julien   (   more   like   stumbles   beside   ).   he's   already   tripped   and   eaten   shit   once.   when   he   does   it   again,   he   feels   a   familiar   impact   at   his   waist,   carried   as   he   had   been   in   obrimus   manor.   there's   a   moment   of   confusion   and   then   a   sigh.

That's the motivation behind it is what he'll tell himself. After all, in what world would Julien Davinos be worried about Occtis Tachonis? No, it's because they're slower because of him. Not because it was kind of funny when he ate shit the first time, but his continuous stumbling went from funny to annoying to worrisome over the time that they have been walking. No, if anyone asks him it is only annoyance.

It was a fragile, tentative peace, but peace nonetheless.

In the flicker of the campfire, the forest glade around them cast into shifting, flickering shadows as the dusky twilight began to fade to something velvety and deep, they were the only two left awake. The pixie could only imagine the look on Thjazi’s face if she told him she was willingly (more or less) in the company of one Sir Julien Davinos, and though he was not her only travel companion he was simply the one that irked her the most, even with what sparing gestures of kindness they had offered one another thus far. It was yet to be said whether more olive branches might be extended.

In the restless boredom of the first watch Thimble had found her gaze lingering upon the carvings on the bracers upon her forearms — Callowyn’s, then Teor’s, now hers — verdant gaze idly tracing the grand antlers of a stag gambolling through that sylvan scene of forests and curling vines and hidden tree nymphs. There had been so many reminders of home, as of late. It had taken her some time to truly acknowledge that it had been Julien’s too, that the thing they both fought for with such relentless fervour was not quite so different after all. It was funny, really, how much they had in common, loathe as she was to admit it.

These quiet nights are the ones he dreads the most. With the revelation of his shadow curse and the image of the grotesque experiments the Tachonis had been doing on his father's body his mind has enough nightmares to supply him with in quiet moments such as this. He almost wishes something would jump out of the forest and attack them, just to get a break from his own thoughts. He hasn't let sprezzatura stray far from his side, even as he's slept

When Thimble speaks up he expects more mockery. He has never known their dynamic to be any different. Her question instead surprises him. He looks to her. A beat of silence falls between them as he tries to figure out if there is some cruel joke she is setting up here. When he doesn't find what he is looking for in her expression, he looks down at his father's sword.