#caraidean

TAGH DO CHOMHLUADAR MA'N TAGH THU DO DHEOCH

󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

[Choose your company before you choose your drink.]

Bhon leabhar le T. D. MacDonald, "𝘎𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴"

Albein returns on his next visit blood and battered, yet continues to hold himself up all the same, striding as proudly as he can manage with a limp and a dour expression. From all Zofian's present in the common area, his sights immediately land on the noblewoman they work for, and thus strides to her posthaste, shoving a sealed missive into her hands that is mostly pristine. "It's from your brother." He gruffs with raspy breath, then turns heel to leave.

“Truly? …thank you.”

Clair’s hand hovers over the letter for a moment, a frown on her face as she runs her thumb over the seal. Yes, it was unbroken, and that was certainly his - he even used the correct wax. None of the codes they’d brought up in idle, fantastical conversation as children or anything such as that.

But, to her surprise, it didn’t hold as much of her attention as she had thought it would. She carefully tucked it away in her pouch, pausing to consider her words before flinching when she realized he’d already left the common area.

Well, damn. So much for doing this with some composure. She chased after him, managing to catch up with the limping man with ease and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait. Are you hurt?”

If this truly is a test, then he surely must bear it, slowing to a stop as a hand falls upon his shoulder. A hand he has half a mind to shove off and keep walking, but it’s the voice that stops him in his tracks. 

And then, he exhales, letting his left hand drop rather than using it to brush her off. “I am on my way to heal.” He tells her with as much composure as he can manage, jaw clenching after and breath slow and steady by sheer will alone. His leg is in pain, ribcage more so, and he’s lost track of the rest. Tired eyes flicker towards her, then to his path ahead.

“... If you wish to talk, do not delay me further.” He speaks up again only once he’s steadied his breath, pausing oddly after that to... regain it. It is only natural, of course— he cannot show weakness, not in a public space.. and they very much are in one, where anyone could see. “Ask what you wish on our way there.”

nanna vc: it worked!

There are many operas about war---beautiful, beautiful operas, with complex characters, and ballads that bounce and strike through the crowd’s hearts with each staccato pluck of the violin’s strings; the soprano ingenue’s vocal chords twinging, straining as red streamers ‘splatter’ into gasps and shock and awe from the crowd. 

But real war is not beautiful---real blood is not a prop, and certainly not so easy to sweep away, not made of elegant, smooth, tempered velvet that can be cleaned & purified from the dust of the stage, lint of well-worn costumes, and glittering stage make-up. (It sparkles. Real blood does not sparkle like some kind of fantasy jewel. It’s ugly. It’s grotesque.)

Real blood stains your hands. Dorothea can remember the first time she tasted blood---literally tasted it---the splatter of viscera from one of her spells so intense it sprayed her like a sea salt foam split with chunky clots she dared not name, metallic and warm in her mouth, like the taste as you check if a silver piece is counterfeit. She could’ve puked. But the battle was not yet won.

Bantu returned the hug and wrapped his arms around her. It was astounding to witness how much she’d grown. She was notably taller than him. Her voice was deeper. The pride he felt at seeing her was akin to a parent watching their child grow up. He was happy to see her as an adult. That meant that, indeed, she did not succumb to degeneration as Naga had feared. She would live for many centuries, and would be without the risk of insanity. 

It was the greatest reassurance that he could ask for.

For a moment, he keeps silent, staving off happy tears. 

“I’m happy to see you, too, Tiki.”

“How funny~ Here I am in my true form, and I’m still shorter than you~” Yune let out a chuckle after that remark. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Sanaki. I’ve seen the hard work you’ve done for the people of this world. Carry your head high, and be proud of your achievements.” She then floated over and gave the other girl a gentle pat on the head.