MYSTIC WARLORD OF VALACHIA !

Trigger/Content Warnings: blood references, drug use, sex references.

they're no stranger to long days of travel, especially not when it comes to proper journeys like this. they only ever pay to be taken somewhere if time is truly of the essence, or if they have no other option. thankfully, while the matter the duo has been pursuing is urgent, it's likely been wiser to travel on foot, lest they drag an unwilling and innocent bystander into a skirmish with the forces of hell while on the road.

it's what's led them here; in a shared tent, at one of many temporary stops on their way. the proximity isn't what makes the evening feel different; they've been traveling together for weeks, after all, it wouldn't make sense for the prospect of seeing one another so vulnerable to start being a problem now. it's the ability to relax and lower their guard, the reprieve from the exhaustion lingering in their bones, the ability to get off their feet after a long day, that truly makes them realize...

they're grateful to have sypha here.

... no, that's not quite it. they are grateful, of course, but that descriptor doesn't satisfy the unknown feeling in their chest. in the low light of the setting evening sun from outside, they look breathtaking, though akiko isn't entirely certain of whether they'd ever vocalize such a thought.

wait, what the hell ?

it's strange. mid-conversation, whilst recounting the day's events, discussing their progress towards their destination, akiko realizes they're hardly hearing the words sypha is saying. they're listening, of course, but they find themselves more transfixed on... the way their face looks as they speak, the way their eyes scan the map to determine which route to take the next day, the way their gaze rises to meet akiko's to confirm they're on the same page.

... their own question is simply one of what to do with this feeling.

( go out on a limb. show them you trust them. )

" i— " akiko clears their throat, closing their eyes for just a moment, even if one is covered by the usual patch. " there's something i need to ask you. " here goes nothing, they suppose. " if you were to learn that i was... hiding something from you, would you trust that i have my reasons ? " it's a question that has the sleuth's heart racing. not out of embarrassment, but out of shame; they really should have come clean about their... affliction sooner than later.

though, it begs the question, how does one calmly bring up the fact that they're harboring the corpse of a demon ? that it still lingers beneath the skin, despite its dormancy ? that even akiko themselves isn't certain of what it can truly do, for better or for worse ? that, in the worst case scenario, they aren't even certain of whether they can trust themselves, let alone whether they're worthy of anyone else's—

" i... you know, it's probably for the best if i simply show you. "

with a deep breath, they bring their hand up to their face, remove their glasses, and hook their thumb beneath their eye patch. " just— promise me you won't freak out on me, alright ? i think i'm already internally doing that enough for the both of us. " maybe a joke at their own expense will lessen the tension in the air, or that in their chest. once they steel themselves, they lift the fabric... and open their eyes. their right eye is fully crimson, anything resembling an iris hardly able to be discerned from the rest of the sclera. a permanent tie to the hellish matter that calls their body home.

it's somewhat surreal, seeing them with full clarity for the first time, even if they're scared shitless. " i- i'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have. but first, i want to assure you, i'm... " akiko sighs to themselves, practically forcing themselves to maintain eye contact at this point. " i'm not a threat. to you or anyone else. this doesn't change that. "

She and Jalon were grateful for the help. The construct sentinels were a pain in the ass to deal with, and it was better to have an extra set of hands than to go it alone. They should have brought a third with them, but hindsight and all that...

"Thanks for the help." Maren smiled at them as Jalon went to pilfer through the downed constructs to see if there were parts in them Bellara could use. The woman gave them a list of things to look out for and they intended to get what she needed.

"Of course," Sypha replied with a slight smile from beneath the shadow of their hood, quickly shaking the woman's hand. And yet, it was Jalon's title that caused them to straighten with interest. They'd heard of that title; perhaps not as exalted as the Inquisitor had been a decade ago, yet...

The Nasrides Palaces in the Alhambra 😍

The reaction was, as they had expected, a bit shocking. And a little funny. “Well--yes, seeing as that’s a massive cliffside right in front of you.” They had followed behind through the mirror, hands clasped behind themselves. “Nor is it Thedas. Everyone thinks that at first, but this place... is a bit more complicated than that.” 

Nels hopped down the steps with an exaggerated flourish and an arm waving to call attention to the converging point on a statue in the middle. Elven in design, much like the rest of the architecture, though on the other end of the gap was likely more shocking. 

Woodlands, trees, Nels had to imagine also the colors that Bellara had described coming off in mists only to be sharply contrasted by the mixture of Nevarran and Tevinter architecture nearby. “It’s not the real world, but it’s not the Fade either. Best we’ve been able to make out is that it’s the meeting place of all the Eluvian’s across the whole continent and the memories of their locations have spilled over to this place. It seems to be called the Crossroads.” 

It probably would’ve been a bit more impressive if the veins and tendrils of blight weren’t throbbing so wet on the walls. Nels couldn’t help the face they had to make. 

Startled by the sudden precipice, a burst of flame emitted from their soles and propelled them a few feet backwards, landing solidly like a cat scrambling to avoid such a fall. The ground scorched slightly when they landed, but Sypha peered to frown at that cliffside as if it were a sapient person flashing a shit-eating grin at their trepidation. Religious fear, superstition--surely, they weren't mistaken for being reasonably wary of a realm infamous for being unpredictable and dangerous.

It was a little funny, but Sypha had been grateful that they'd never really entered the Fade much. All living beings did when they dreamed, but it was intensely different from being physically present as they were now. And, of course, mages tapped into the Fade when they used magic, but Sypha was almost grateful that they kept their skillset constrained to combat and largely avoided the more dangerous side of magic.

Recollections of their mother's lessons trickled back within their mind, yet some were divided or fragmented compared to others. Aisha had entered Uthenara before the Veil had been erected by the Dread Wolf, and only awoke long after where her disconnection to the Fade meant she lived out her days as a mortal elf, however long it had been before. Even she had scrambled to make sense of the age of man Thedas had entered.