Cas nodded along as Hylas spoke of the town and the mountains in the distance. Time wasn't on their side and Cas knew little about the area they were currently in. He didn't know the side paths or hideaways like Hylas did. Right now, he was relying on him to get them to shelter for the night and then to the safe house. However Cas knew they maybe traveling through Crowen would be a good idea. If no one was going to recognize him, they could stop for food if they had anywhere they could get food from. They didn't have any other forms of sustenance on them, and Cas didn't know if Hylas had any at his safe house. He presumed he did, but right now he had every right to not trust him. At least he would know where the food from Crowen came from, "You know these parts better than I," He replied, "Which route would be faster? Going through or avoiding Crowen?" It was vital they made up the time they had lost talking about themselves on the side of the road and discussing the other's identity. Time, it seemed, had never been a friend of his. The prince seemed to always be running out of time. Not enough time with his family before they were killed. Not enough time preparing to be king. Not enough time to get this message to his father. Not enough time- he calmed those thoughts. It seemed the past years of worries were catching up on him. And this newfound stress of a war larger than anything he or even the continent had ever seen before was the catalyst. Traveling with the most wanted assassin was the cherry on top of the situation. Cas will his brain to remember his training. Clear the worries, one problem at a time, people first, yourself second.
Hylas softly frowned as he considered their options. The raven on his shoulder shuffled, peering out into the trees and foliage as they walked. Sleep out in the open, find our way through the woods, then to the fields. Or, head closer to the mountains and follow the river into the rolling hills. "It's not just about time, I suppose," Hylas said, stepping over a fallen tree, "We have to consider the few peripheral risks involved." In that very moment, he sorted through all the problems they might run into, in his mind; as was his habit with overthinking. He thought of it more as being observant and reactive, though truly it came from a place of panicked decision-making. Of course he had to learn to improvise plans and analyze these situations; his very survival was built upon his will to go on, and any potential failures within his reputation had been saved by it. "If we stay heading south and camp in the forest, there won't be much comfort in it for us, and there's the small risk of running into something hostile," He stated, sighing as he remembered the night he barely escaped a struggle against something sharp and feverish in the dark. Nothing is more terrifying than a presence you feel, but can't see. "—It may be more direct, but we also run the risk of getting lost, as no paths lead to the fields and the safehouse." Perfect, secluded, warm, and silent, the abandoned monastery past the hills of Crowen was perhaps the closest thing Hylas had to a home, and now as they spoke of ways to get there, he felt the quiet ache of exhaustion whispering to him memories of the comforts he held in the heavy clouds and sunlight of those unnamed fields. "And so, I would argue that we go southwest. The caves are small but good enough. It's still warm, and we can follow the sound of the rivers closer into town. I know that route better, and hardly anyone strays that far from the main path leading to the first real town; further southeast of where we're passing through. Crowen receives no travellers or merchants; it's rare that goods from Eirus or other parts of Valthea make it there."
It made sense, Cas supposed, to head southwest as Hylas said. If their were caves, albeit small as the other said, it didn't matter. It was some form of shelter for the night. He didn't expect it to rain, nor get very cold over night so the caves would be better than staying on the road, "We'll head southwest then." He replied, "We can also stop into Crowen on the way through for supplies." They needed parchment and ink and food. And Cas wouldn't mind finding some sort of a weapon while they were there. The chances were small, and he doubted Hylas would let him carry anything now that he knew who the other was. He also knew that writing this letter was going to take a few tries. With his mind in a hundred different directions the prince knew it was going to be hard to condense his thoughts into one concise and clear letter. It had never been a strong suit of his, even if as he grew older his skills had improved but when it came to important issues, proclamations, it took him days to write down his thoughts clear enough to read out loud. Procrastination was a serious problem for him. But there was no time to put off writing the letter. Maybe by the time they reached the safe house tomorrow and he had had a night to think about what to really do, it would be easier for him. Getting the letter to his father was a different issue. He knew that Hylas' raven would do the job, but he didn't trust either of them. He could tell that the assassin had trained his companion well, but with who he actually was, Cas didn't know if he wanted to risk the letter falling into the wrong hands, someone Hylas might have worked with before or might even have connections with Zaros himself, "If we were to get lost we'd be having more issues then we already are. Let's try and avoid that at any cost."
Hylas nodded, beginning to consider things they would do well to purchase in town as they continued through the woods. He had a fair amount of money on him, and goods were inexpensive in Crowen. "Yes, we'll need provisions, I suppose." He said, thinking back to his safehouse; of the supplies he stored there and things they could do without. "There are crops, where we're headed," Hylas said, wearing the faintest of smiles and raising his shoulders in a quiet shrug. Though it wasn't a home, he still took care of the place, mending windows and caring for the grounds of his secretive sanctuary. His came to gaze wander over the landscape, as it so often did while he was in a reverie, and he continued, "—It's a humble garden; small and terribly overgrown, but well enough to feed the two of us." Hylas almost sighed at the thought of it; for most of the year, the fields surrounding would be sun-drenched and golden, with soft winds seeping into the courtyard and through the plush grass, where he so often fell asleep. The vegetable garden there was spread out around the warm brick ruins, with beanstalks and flowered vines tangling around broken statues and root vegetables growing in crooked lines over uneven ground. "A few animals roam about, too. And the woods are filled with game. I'm sure you understand— I've worried enough about going hungry to keep myself well supplied." A quiet show of his paranoia, this was. After his early years of hunger and heavy uncertainty, there had come a feverish need to spread out not just his money, but any other potential supplies. Everything that he saw as necessary for his survival— finances, food, weapons, shelter, — was thoroughly scattered across the continents, noted by landmarks only he knew of, hidden in places only he could find. This safehouse was almost an exception; for there was likely to be a record of the building, however forgotten. "But…yes. We will likely need to make a few stops. Is there anything specific you have in mind?"
(Heya, sorry for disappearing for a good while there. School kinda said fuck you and i just haven't had time or energy to come on. Should be more active again now)
Cas bit as his bottom lip gently. Even though Hylas hid his fear well, years of working with deceiving noblemen and women made it easy for him to see the small hint of paranoia that laced his words. He nearly took pity on him, if only for a moment. He'd never know the hardships and difficulties some of the peoples on Mavadora faced, especially those who had resorted in crimes so drastic. Cas has only ever known a life of luxury filled with too much food and too much wine and too much of everything. He knew he would be forever grateful for the life he had if they survived the upcoming months. Looking back to Hylas, he scratched at the back of his neck, "Well, we'll need ink and parchment if we want this letter to be written as soon as possible." He said. He paused for a moment, contemplating whether to actually ask for the weapon or not. Cas would need one eventually. Hand to hand combat with nothing but your fists against an army of magic users would have him dead within moments. He wouldn't last on the battle field for more than five minutes if that, "I'll need a weapon at some point, too. Doesn't have to be a good one, just one that can keep me alive if- when it comes to that." Glancing to Hylas for a brief moment, the prince wondered if the assassin would say no. If he would prevent Cas from having any sort of weapon until the last moment. Trust was something they couldn't afford in the present moment, neither of them could let their guard down. Cas could try and take the others life, return to Eirus with his head and prove one enemy dead. But Hylas could do the same. One wrong move after that letter was sent and Hylas could take the reward, leave the continent and never have to worry about anything ever again.
(oh that's okay ! i don't always have the energy to come on here so I get what you mean; don't worry about it. i did plenty of thinking while you were gone :)
Hylas nodded as the prince spoke, reeling in quiet embarrassment over his unremarked tangent of country life. What interest did a prince have in the comforts of a murderous commoner? The only appropriate answer would be none. He may have caught his interest at the ball, but that was under the appearances of fellow nobility and champagne-fueled curiosity. Surely his feelings had changed, now that their differences had been made so apparent. Hylas had no need for writing; he had neither ink, parchment, nor quills at the safehouse, and this letter was their priority. There was a bookshop in Crowen, he recalled; a dusty place, and barely a shack of one hundred volumes, but he knew the owner sold such materials. The branches snapped beneath their steps, and the mention of a weapon made him halt his trek, turning to face Cas and almost flinching at the flurries of thoughts that followed. Acutely aware of the dagger sheathed on his belt and the feather-light knives hidden in his boots, satchel, and sleeves, he saw all the ways Cas would try and kill him, with or without his own weapon. Hylas was faster, and likely stronger than the prince, but he knew better than anyone that a desperate man's reach was lighter and quieter than any creature beneath the Gods. He could see it: the prince's sharp features in the night, like a siren emerging from an ocean of black and moonlight, creeping his hand over Hylas's belt and slipping the carved blade into his steady hand, all before dragging it against his throat in a fluid motion of vengeance. It would be so easy. And with every moment of his attention spent off guard, there would be free moments of opportunity and sudden terror. His dark eyes carried his fear, and slowly, he tore them away from Cas. "Not…right now," Hylas nearly mumbled, recommencing his walking through the pathless forest greenery. The prince was right in the notion of defending himself; he couldn't predict what threats would meet them in the future. And so, there was a blacksmith in town, he knew. Young and skilled, and clever too; he knew not to ask about Hylas' commissions and why he had so many blades that needed sharpening. Still, the pressure of safety and necessity quietly distressed him. "I'll consider it," He added after a long moment.
(oh? Thinking about what?)
For a moment, Cas thought he was about to be struck where he stood. But that fear in Hylas' eyes had been relaxing, if only for a flicker of a moment. A small reassurance that he wasn't going to die before they reached their end goal. Hylas' wasn't an idiot, that was obvious and Cas knew that he would, at some stage, receive the weapon that he was asking for. The prince supposed he would have to wait, for now, and not bring the subject up again until the time was right, "Right, okay." He replied with a small dip of his head, following a step behind the assassin.
The duo continued on their path of green, sticking to the undergrowth and making sure to move away from any sigh of human life. Not that there was much, but occasionally the mud and debris underfoot seemed more worn down then usual. The day had warmed up quite significantly. Even with the shade of the trees blocking out the suns beating rays enough trickled through for the forest to grow hot. It wasn't all bad, Cas knew. Birds of all kinds fluttered around, rabbits and other small creatures skittered below their feet and, in any other circumstance, the prince would have found the walk calming, peaceful. But the thick silence that lay over the prince and his assassin dampened the mood ten fold. Cas didn't say a word, either too scared to do so and piss the other off or lost in his own trail of thought that, even if Hylas did speak to him, Cas probably wouldn't hear. He'd run though the letter he was going to write too many times, making slight changes every time before ultimately giving up and trying again. It was in times like these where he missed his brothers. They'd always been the ones to engage in this sort of thing, trained from birth, too. He shook those thoughts off before they consumed him and he really couldn't write the letter.
(oh just stuff relating to the storyline; like how cas will probably have to lie to others about who hylas really is, when/what Cas will find interesting/attractive about hylas, how long the war will last, etc etc)
Slowly, his worries seemed to fall away as they walked in silence, his mind quietly bewlidered at the sensation of a companion walking alongside him; another set of sounds and movements so close. It was strange and new, and Hylas couldn't help the fleeting looks that he prayed were unnoticed. He had never been in the company of someone for so long. Even when he got desperate enough to visit a house of maids, the fear of being remembered kept him from staying any longer than a few hours. But now he was slowly realizing that the prince would be in his company for days, weeks, or perhaps even months; he would be the first to know his face, and he didn't understand if this feeling he had was of fear or excitement. "I…take it you've been raised to fight with a longsword?" Hylas cautiously asked, hoping to seem casual enough. Really, he was considering the weapon he'd asked for; as he reckoned that Cas couldn't do much with his throwing knives. The knights of Eirus all handled blades of white steel; shortswords, longswords, and broadswords. He'd seen them everytime he passed through the country, wondering how he'd fare against them. The war had made soldiers out of so many, and knowing that the prince, too, had fought reminded him that Cas had lived through battles upon a blood-soaked warground. Perhaps he didn't carry those memories with such a heaviness as others did, but Hylas knew that sooner or later he'd need a blade in his hands. "They aren't as common in Valthea," He said, peering out at the far mountains through the thick foliage. The raven on his shoulder had grown bored of their walking, and took off in a great leap of black feathers, flitting up into the trees. "And you could never find a smith with enough white steel. A war here would be difficult to provide for."
(Fair fair)
"War is difficult to provide for as is." Cas mumbled, more to himself then to Hylas. Memories of the last war come flooding back. Even when he'd trained as a child, the prince had never thought he'd see the likes of war, even less so the front lines of battle. Training with the Captain's guard seemed like a useless activity to him rather than a necessity but after his first battle he'd never been more grateful. He was good with a long sword, always had been, and his own was currently sitting at the end of his bed in its sheath waiting for some maid to come along and polish the gold and blue handle. Aeron and Arin's swords sat in a room far below the castles main chambers with his mothers bow, cased in glass to protect them from any unwanted hands. Cas hadn't seen nor touched them since the war had ended, neither had his father. They'd both never fully recovered from the loss of their family, even though both hid it well, and Cas knew seeing those weapons again would be the final tether snapping that kept his sanity together. He'd vowed the day the war ended never to pick up or touch a weapon like that again. Never wanting to feel blood on his hands or in his hair or on his body ever again. Now he knew that vow had been foolish. He was a prince for gods sake. He was going to have to battle and kill at some point again, even if he didn't want to. That vow was about to be broken any day, and Cas wasn't truly prepared for it, "Longsword is what I'm best at, yes." He replied, glancing to Hylas for a split second, "I'm okay with a bow, but probably not very good on a battle field." Archery grounds were completely different, "I've never really seen long swords of white steel outside of Eirus. I wouldn't anywhere apart from Eirus and Kienheim to have them, but even then their difficult to find up North." Kienheim was one of the major northern kingdoms, known for the most beautiful weaponry - more for display then for battle, however. Even up their white steel was hard to come by, and they mined anything and everything they could find.
"Hmm," Hylas said with a thoughtful nod, glancing up at the sky to see how many hours of light there was left. They had a late start, and as warm and bright as it was, the early afternoon was slowly dying. "I saw a beautiful sword of white steel, once," He began, softly forgetting their past tension as his attention drifted to a memory. Slowly, the corners of his mouth curved into the faintest of smiles. "Across the Sea of Knives; all the way in Ozmor. A gorgeous thing, it hung in the High General's study." A contract from his brother; ensuring his nephew's death at an early hour. He could still remember how the softened blue of the morning fell into the cool air of the room, and how the sword almost seemed to glow in a certain view. "All curves and delicate angles, I wanted to reach out and feel the weight of it in my hands," He all but whispered, gently flexing his hands at the thought of its balance. A sword was never a consideration for him; it would draw too much attention, and he had no need for a weapon of savage duelling. The blades had to be small; easy to hide under a cloak, and cheap enough to replace should he lose them. But he knew there was an ache in him; a yearning in his hands that called for a long and heavy blade to wield. His gaze was somewhere far away, missing its usual weight of worry. Though the memory of the sword was quiet; so were the bloody moments that followed. Scaling the tower had been a challenge, but those were his earlier days of esteem. It had been an easy enough job; the High General's eldest son snuck in just as he was told; to steal his father's letter to the king. One that would name the general's youngest son as his successor. And he didn't scream; didn't even see Hylas. But he sensed him, he saw it through the sudden flinch of the man's shoulders when he noticed the open window, and those same shoulders sank as he fell limp to the ground; twitching as his blood soaked through the letter he held. "It…It reminded me of this old Valthean legend. Do you know it?" Hylas asked, turning to Cas with a look of quiet curiosity, "The sword of riverglass?"
The prince tilted his head ever so slightly, intrigued as he listened to Hylas talk. Strange to see the man who thus far seemed on edge every waking moment seem almost distant as he walked and talked. Cas wondered what was going on in that complex mind of his. Whether the thought of long, dueling battle swords filled him with electric wonder or unease. From Hylas' stance and far away eyes, Cas knew it was the former. Maybe that was something they shared. The love for delicately made weaponry. To long for those swords that had a perfect balance. Light weighted, beautifully made, and deadly enough to kill anyone with one swing. His own sword was just that. One of a kind, too. The white steel always shone in the early morning light that passed through the windows in his chambers. The handle made of fine, strong gold with patterns of vines that wrapped around the bottom of the blade. A snakes head was positioned at the end with eyes of sparkling lapis. It truly was striking blade, in looks and also in use. But none could ever come close to the sword mentioned in that Valthean legend. Cas had heard the strong when passing through, years and years ago when he was a mere child. His family had stopped in one of the smaller kingdoms and during their stay, one of the court members had spoken of the sword of riverglass. A blade supposedly blessed and created by the Gods themselves for only the purest of mortal men. That tale had kept him from skipping his training. To use a sword that held such power and grace would be a blessing to anyone. Cas had searched through old books and tales and folklore and other legends, combing through to see if the possibility of such a sword could be true. Not that he found any knew information, any trial or sign that might prove of the swords existence but he never truly lost hope, "I have, yes." He said, meeting the others curious gaze with a soft one of his own, "A long time ago, but I've never forgotten it."
Hylas felt himself smile at that, turning his gaze to the ground in his shy realization. The prince was listening to him; and speaking in reply. It was quietly exhillarating, to say the least; he had veered away from even the simplest of conversations in all his travels; hardly even asking for directions. Every sensation seemed to surprise him, the longer they spoke and walked together; the shuffling and snapping of twigs beneath his steps, and the speaking, the speaking. His pupils were just about blown. "I'd say it's very hard to forget," Hylas softly replied, recalling…some voice, his mother's voice? The first and only time he was told the tale of the poor shepherdboy who wielded the fabled sword of Valthea. "Reaching into a river and lifting off the reflecting light on the water— the moonglade, as a sword…" He let out the quietest laugh, and sighed as he thought of all the time he spent as a child looking at his reflection in the river. He would come home with his clothes soaked from the playing in the stream; trying to texplain how he was trying to get the riversword, because I did see it, mother, I did! "Children aren't the only ones that dream of such a wonder. Most knights and noblemen make their appointed journey along the rivers across the land as a lighthearted— almost playful tradition. So they say." The story held a great symbolization for the men of the kingdom; the all-embracing humility of the shepherd's simple beginnings and heaveanward admiration bestowed upon him in the form of a sword. The insatiable need to serve a self-fulfilled purpose was the very thread of the story's woven tapestry, and the kingdom's values held to it tightly. "It's so interesting, to me, knowing how the kingdom treasures a folk tale as simply known as this," Hylas said after a moment of silence, forgetting he was talking to Cas before turning back to him, that's what I'm meant to do, right? Look at him in his eyes. Scarily green eyes. Like these woods— Have I stared too long? I'll look away. "Does Eirus have such a story?"
Cas could barely take his eyes off the other man as he spoke of the tale, whisked away almost in awe of how that tale touched Hylas. It was almost.. sweet, if an assassin could ever be sweet, "Maybe not a story about a sword.." He started, turning his gaze into the woods beside them, "But there is one. The Maelin and the crown of starlight." It was an old story, one that had been passed down through the peoples and the royals of Eirus since the kingdom was founded years and years ago. Of the ancient peoples that lived deep within the forests boarding the south of the kingdom and the crown forged with the stars themselves. In some tellings of the story, the Maelin were Gods themselves, others said they were only blessed by them. Either way they held an old and deadly power, guarding that crown till the true heir of Starlight found them, found the crown and was strong enough to possess the power that it held. Oh the days were Cas and his brothers would lie in the garden and talk about that crown. Joke about how they would find the Maelin, prove themselves worthy and wield the greatest power Eirus had ever known. They'd gone searching once. Went deep into the woods to see if they could spot them, but nothing ever came of it. Cas knew it was just a tale, but that part of him that believed it was true longed to find that crown. A smile crept up onto his face as remembered all those times with his bothers, of the tale itself. Of a young prince who pretended he had the crown and the power and saving anyone he could find. He shook his head a little at the thought, turning his gaze away from the forest and to the floor, before back to Hylas once more, "It's an old tale of the people of Eirus. The Maelin are supposed to reside in the forests with a crown made from the stars, supposedly holding power only the true heir of Starlight can connect with and use."
"A crown of Starlight?" Hylas prompted with a quiet smile, pushing through the overgrown tallgrass and stepping over fallen branches. He had never heard of such a thing, and anything that had to do with stars, he wanted to know, and likely already did. All the constellations under every continent, and just about every story that went along with them, he could recall without hesitation. He hummed absentmindedly for a moment, looking up and to the side in thought, letting himself get lost in the ideas of what such a crown might look like. Bright gold? Perhaps silver. White silver? Or— made entirely of light-catching gems and crystals. Or something like a pulsing halo of light and white heat. And how beautiful that might be, gracing the unkempt locks of knight, or nobleman, or… Hylas thought to himself, suddenly shy at the musing of Cas in such an ethereal quality. "Oh— and, hmm," He started again, not realizing the silence that he had left between them. Was it really this hard for everyone else to keep up with a conversation? Already, he was getting overwhelmed, and it was a strange, yet natural-feeling thing that excited him. "I've never heard of it. But it's terribly interesting. The true heir of Starlight." Now to gather his thoughts, taking a short breath and remembering to make eye contact. He had forgotten all the previous troubles of the last few days, almost letting himself relax in his flowing course of thinking and speaking and walking through beams of gentle sunlight and warm winds. "But I would say…we're all the heirs of starlight. At least according to the great astronomers of old, "Hylas said with an air of uncertainty, letting his hand brush against the curled ferns scattered around the woods, "The stories of the old Gods of Valthea match the principles they wrote of." He softly shrugged, stealing a glance at Cas. Hylas hadn't lied at the ball; he really did hold this knowledge dear to him. "—To put it simply; how mortals were created in the great blaze of dying star, between the Gods hiding behind the sun and the moon."
(oh my god andrew did this prank again. its hilarious)
(Fuckin hell not again lmao)
"It's possible." Cas mused quietly, "In the legends, it's said that the first queen of Eirus had been born from Starlight. Pure starlight," The prince grabbed a leaf from a near by branch, picking it apart as he spoke, "She built the city with her own hands, all on her own, taking care of anyone who wandered through her lands. Vera, she was called, and she could wield that power, was born from it, with it." He sighed, dropping the stem of the leaf on the ground as they walked, "It's supposed to be her crown, in the story, and only her direct descendants can access that power, hence 'true heir of starlight.'" He bit his lip. Legends. His mother had said, It's all just a legend. No one truly knew who the first ruler of Eirus had been. The kingdom had been around far longer than anyone knew and history sometimes merged with fairy tale that turned to myth before they were forgotten. Not many knew of Vera, that the crown in the well known tale was hers. Maybe that was why no one had bothered searching for it, because no one really understood the meaning behind the tale, "Anyway, no one really tells that tale anymore, it's more or less been forgotten about." The thought saddened Cas and it was clear, too. He'd always held those stories close to his heart, and to know not many knew of them made his heart droop. But maybe Hylas would remember it once they departed ways, "As a child I… I used to pretend I was her heir," He shook his head at that thought, "That I could find the crown, prove to everyone they weren't just stories." Stop being childish Caspian, get back to your studies! His father would say, practically pulling him out of the grass and the mud and back to his chambers, It's not real, you have to understand. There is no such thing as a crown of starlight. Cas still hoped the tales were true, deep down. He looked back to Hylas, letting out a small, almost awkward smile, "Doesn't matter now. I never found the crown so it's probably not true. Even if I did I probably wouldn't be able access the crown, it's power."
Hylas listened as the prince spoke, noting with every stolen glance that Cas seemed to go deeper and deeper into his recollections. It couldn't be a natural thing for a prince to share such personal stories, especially to a man like Hylas. But something in the way Cas hesitated before speaking told Hylas more than he reckoned the other wanted him to know. It's all giving you away, He thought as he gazed at the prince in a lingering moment of silence, waiting and dreading for those green eyes to meet his glance. All the ache you hold in your quiet frown. I wonder if it's the same as mine. He could never help his watchfulness when it came to people. There was always a story, an emotion behind their words that he seemed to see through, whether he was eavesdropping at a tavern or in a sociable disguise. With a long sigh, Hylas nodded and tore his gaze away, returning it to the trees and far mountains ahead. "The Gods grant us what we need, and fate orchestrates when we receive it," He said, stepping over a fallen tree, "You understand what I mean, don't you?" And Hylas struggled not to stop in his tracks. A sudden memory sent his heart into a moment of distress, and he nearly flinched at how vivid it was. All at once, there was his father, arranging a circle of pebbles as they sat on the silent riverbank. "A circle, you see? Every stone has a place in it." He reached for one, throwing it into the still water with a careless smile, motioning for his boy to come closer. "Do you see the ripples that came from that? Circles, just the same. We took it from this one here and made a number more with it, in the water. And there will always be others to replace it in the circle of pebbles we made; the one it was made for, until we decided otherwise." The rest of that day was a misty, unintelligible reminiscence; with half-remembered sayings of one's purpose, and how life repeated itself for those that needed time to carry out the will of the Gods. Hylas swallowed, pulling himself out of his reverie. "The crown— supposing it was real, would only be found at the right time. Just like the sword of riverglass, no miracle can be found in normalcy," He said, trying to push his disorientation aside as he walked. Stealing a glance at Cas, he wondered if his uneasiness showed or if he was making much sense. "Just like you and I meeting this way, and later coming across those bandits speaking of their plans. Fate wills us on our path."
"There's no such thing as fate." Cas replied, features softening into a gentle frown, "Only coincidence and dumb luck." Not after the last war. Not after losing the people he held dearest to him. It couldn't have been fate, destiny, what ever people call it that had his mother and brothers dying on that battlefield. It should have been him, not them. The princes doubt in the Gods themselves shone through ever so slightly. For hours after the clean up, he'd prayed in temple for his family to become whole again. No God or Goddess answered that day. Not a single one out of the many helped him, helped his father, helped his people. There wasn't a single ounce in him that could forgive the Gods for that. Not now, not ever. Fate, if it was real, was cruel, Cas had decided long ago. Out of everyone in his family, he was the least deserving of the title of King. He knew there were many who disagreed with him on the point if he ever voiced that opinion, but he didn't care, "Believe what you will but there's no such thing in my eyes." It should have been me. He could still see his mother's body as clear as the sun itself bleeding out amongst all the other brave men who had laid down their lives for the last war. Still picture his brothers bodies one after the other beaten and tossed aside like they were nothing. He wouldn't have it. It couldn't have been their fate to die like that. It couldn't have been his fate, the youngest, least prepared to rule to survive, to suddenly have to take on the responsibility to one day rule, "It's nice to believe in legends, but sooner or later you have to grow up whether you like it or not, and you realise that, no matter what, they aren't true, and that the Gods won't help you either." Cas couldn't bare to look in Hylas' direction, not with the pain he knew the other could spot. He willed his face into a mask, hiding how he truly felt deep down as best he could. But with the memories that had resurfaced, it was a difficult task to complete.
Hylas quickly lost his train of thought, silently taken aback by the sudden change of tone. What had he said to rouse such bitterness out of Cas? It was obvious that he had recalled something disturbing, but Hylas' own defensiveness got the better of him, and he squared his shoulders reflexively as he turned to reply. With a long breath, he hesitated, shaking his head and deciding to keep his gaze ahead, keeping his palms from curling into gentle fists. "I really don't think you've considered who you're speaking to," He coldly replied, flat and unwavering as they walked on, stepping through the quiet undergrowth. How could the prince possibly fathom all the struggles and heavy losses that pushed him to the killing? He had slipped up, of course, but the quiet hostility in his words did something to Hylas, and he couldn't stop his quiet aggravation. "I've been the Raven for ten years, just about. You don't have the right to tell me to grow up." Gods, he could only imagine the pleasantires of being a young prince. Feasting and living musically in his air of esteem and indulgence; all while Hylas shivered in the backstreets with twitching hands and bloodied knives. All those feverish memories of childhood stung behind his skull, pulsing at the rare acknowledgement as if it was its own soul trapped inside of him. Because it was all decay, for him; a rotting corspe of memories that moved from continent to continent: and he could never outrun his sins. "And I'll be damned if I'm still alive because of dumb luck. How twisted is your mind to think that all of this is for nothing?" He could feel his voice rising in it's quiet severeness; he had never had such a conversation before, and wasn't equipped to deal with disagreement. "You're a fool to you think that our paths lead nowhere. This is not a thing of hope or reassurance, and you will see. Everything is connected."
"You have no right to call me a fool." Cas replied, keeping his voice level. Cold, but level in an almost frightening way. Compared to Hylas he'd had many a disagreement in his time and, even though he greatly disagreed and wanted to slap Hylas in his perfect face, he slipped his hands into his pockets to stop himself from doing so, "You're not the only one who's had to deal with loss and death and to kill. Just because your life hasn't been the same as mine doesn't give you any right to tell me how to think about my path." Just because he was a prince, it didn't mean his life was all sunshine and daisy, even less so after the last war. There wasn't a damned person on the continent who knew how he coped after the war, how he dealt with that pain and loss. All the built of grief from losing his family, losing himself. And he sure as Hell wasn't going to start now, "You might believe you're alive because it's your 'fate' or 'destiny', but there's not a being on this continent that will ever make me believe that I'm here because I'm meant to be. End of story. Don't tell me my views are wrong because they differ from your own, Raven." It was something Cas had learned, preparing to become King, is that you're never going to please nor agree with everyone. Not everyone is going to agree with you, either. It was about compromise. Cas and Hylas were never going to agree on this topic, the only solution was to agree to disagree. They had different views and that was okay. But Hylas had no right to tell him what to do, and vice versa. If Hylas wanted to believe in fate, fine, he could do so, however there was going to be no convincing of Cas that it was real. It was one thing he would never change his opinion on. The prince looked Hylas, the frown still settled into his features with no chance of moving anytime soon. Once this is all over you never have to see him again. He'll be gone and that'll be the end of it.
Hylas raised his eyebrows in a lazy expression of surprise, the corners of his mouth almost twitching into a smile when the prince returned the same sharpness. It was almost amusing to see him worked up over such a discussion, and he could hardly believe that he had been at the threshold of empathy before Cas had switched the narrative into something as personal as this. Why had he been so quick to dismiss his speaking of fate? Why did he hold so much anger towards it? It puzzled him, and as the sunlight grew colder and their replies got sharper, Hylas could feel the prince's intolerance grow. The way Cas' frown deepened at some moments, the way his gaze flickered from his expression to the forest floor; it told him something— or rather, it made him feel something. A strange attentiveness that had plagued him since they first met at the ball; some inability of letting the prince's words or movements go unnoticed. Perhaps it was his lifelong paranoia or withdrawnness that finally caught up to him and made him so sharp-eyed, but a part of him didn't seem to mind. The prince was speaking, and as much as he wanted to keep his eyes off his mouth, he couldn't help but smile at the foolish things he said. Oh, but he hasn't seen what I have, Hylas thought to himself, feeling a surge of terror, or perhaps excitement at the realization that had been building in him in the last few hours of walking. The vision that the sick priestess had placed inside of him hadn't taken place in the last war; it had been meant for this one. And just as he readied such knowledge to reply, he felt his smile grow cold. In all of his princely authority; calling— no, addressing him as that hated alias. Raven? He mused, his pupils just about dilating at the prince's last little statement. With a slow glance at Cas, Hylas smiled as he gave him a soft nod. "Careful now," He told him with an air of playful severity, looking up at the sun sinking further East, "It's not very wise to piss off a man who kills people for a living."
Cas lifted his gaze up from the ground to the man in front of him. There was a slight smirk on his face and glint in his eyes as he said, "If you wanted to kill me you would have done so already. But where's the fun in that now, eh?" The prince pushed aside the dispute, the tension and coldness that had risen between the two of them being replaced with an air he couldn't quite place but wanted to. They both had to move past that conversation. Cas knew there were going to be other conversations of the like on this journey, after all he guessed they were to be in one another's company for some time and getting worked up and upset over a disagreement over fate was hardly the worst he knew was to come. They'd be plenty of time to yell at each other later. Cas figured now wasn't the best time when he was unarmed with the most skilled assassin in the country, even though he knew Hylas' wouldn't kill him. Quite frankly the prince knew they needed to be in each others good books. Cas in Hylas' to be able to use his resources to write that letter and Hylas' in Cas so he didn't simply turn on him when they got back to the castle and put him on trial for his crimes. A silent agreement, he supposed, one he hoped Hylas understood, too, "And if you are going to kill me do it soon, it'll make this walk a whole lot less boring." He wondered what it would be liked to be killed by a man such as Hylas. Wondered if he would scream as other might have or if he'd go down with a fight. He'd begged earlier, tied down to that cot with no where to go. Had others felt that same feeling of helplessness as he had? Had some gone in their sleep with no where to run, not knowing what awaited them? Cas couldn't help but ask himself how they might have died. He'd heard stories, but not all stories were true. He'd heard of mutilations, stabbings, a simple slice of the neck. The last seemed the most fitting, Cas didn't think Hylas was the type to dismember a man but then again, he could be wrong. The prince knew there was a high chance he was. Cas turned his gaze away from the assassins dark eyes, looking back to the path ahead of them with a sigh.
Hylas let out a breathy laugh of weariness, gently shaking his head dismissively. He was glad that the prince's common sense had overtaken his quiet hostility, and that there had grown a silent agreement to put the discussion behind them. Perhaps it was their tiredness and growing hunger that had made them so irritable; Hylas had planned to stay in Eirus for a day or two and had needed to buy food for the journey back. Now that the afternoon was slowly dying, he noted that it would be wise to hunt something before it got dark. The thick forest was slowly easing in its coarseness; with fallen trees becoming scarce, and long tufts of tall grass and shrubbery dwindling in numbers. Their shoes crunched the carpet of fallen leaves and twigs as they advanced through, keeping an eye out for the gnarled hills and any large incurves that might grant them shelter. Hylas did his best to ignore the strange tension between them as a long stretch of silence softened his frown and relaxed his shoulders, but every time he risked a glance at Cas— his tired expression and unkempt hair —he still couldn't stop the strange curiosity that surfaced. What is he thinking about? How angry is he? Is he angry? And Where do we go from here? It made him terribly nervous, though silence was something he was used to; something he was comfortable in, and it gave him space to think. So why did he ache for words to fill the space between them? All the birdsong seemed to grow fainter, the distant sounds of a river grew louder, and the gentle wind promised a warm night. "We should…we should catch something," Hylas cautiously suggested, wanting to seem sensible yet nonchalant as he glanced at Cas.
As the day dragged on the weight on Cas' shoulders seemed to grow heavier. His mind focused on the letters to his father, to their allies, the preparations needed for the war, potential strategies. Best to start as soon as he could so he had a some what decent outline for a plan when they eventually arrived back in Eirus. This war was different from the last. It wasn't some feud between kingdoms. Last time he barely got a say in what happened, the plans that were made. This time he was front and center right next to his father. Everyone would be looking to him for advice and Cas wasn't quite sure he was ready to handle all of that. He had too, he knew he had no choice, despite how strongly he didn't want to. The word seemed to fade into the background of his thoughts as they walked. Hylas' footsteps almost distant compared to how loud his thoughts were. There wasn't enough time to think about anything else. Time was something Cas wished was on there side, but wishing for more of it was a useless task. A part of his mind wandered to what Hylas would do after the war was over if he survived. Cas wondered if he would turn him in at some point thought he shook that thought away. He's helping you win a war. Someone else can do that. It went against everything he had been brought up to do but Cas couldn't just expose him for who he was, fighting in a war was punishment enough. Maybe he'll leave the continent for good. For a moment Cas almost felt saddened but the feeling was gone as if it never appeared, too quick for him to notice. He was dragged out of his thoughts when Hylas spoke, coming back into reality as the plans of war faded to the back of his mind, "Yes, yes we should." A smart idea, they'd have to eat again at some point, "And we'll need to find somewhere to stay for the night, too. Somewhere safer then the middle of an open forest."
Hylas almost raised his eyebrows at the prince's unbothered reply. It seemed as if further matters of importance had seized his attention after their dispute, and that was just alright by him. "Right," He said with a nod, redirecting his gaze in the direction of the noise of flowing water. "We should look for a cave close to the river—" Hylas suggested, trying to think up a feasible explanation to disguise the strange truth of how rivers had always been a place of safety and comfort for him. Ever since he was a child and trying to survive by his lonesome, the rivers of Valthea aided him in ways that were far from futile. When he had nothing, he had the spring water and fish to sustain him. When he didn't know the lands as he did now, the familiar rivers would help him determine which direction to pursue. And at the safehouse, on the heavy nights of memories growing too loud, Hylas had learned to make his way to the soft-flowing stream at the edge of the field and feel his thoughts die as he slept in the plush grass. So much had come out of his quiet dependency, and he couldn't bear the thought of not keeping nearby. But that's strange, isn't it? He couldn't possibly tell the prince that. "—There won't as many creatures to bother us." A partial truth. "And we should gather wood for a fire. I'll hunt something, too, before it gets dark." Hylas let out a long sigh, taking in the cool evening in a soothing breath. He almost smiled at the spectacle of his relief, running a tired hand through his dark hair as he spoke. "Hmm. We're close to the border, you know. I can feel it in the air; it's so much warmer down here in the south. Even the nights are mild enough to sleep out in."
Cas nodded as the assassin spoke, "You hunt, I'll gather wood, how about that?" Since he didn't actually have any weapons to hunt with, nor a knife to make a spear with the find fish in the river, he supposed that was the only thing he could do. At least he wasn't sitting around doing nothing and was actually helping in some way or another. He wasn't incapable when it came to surviving out here, unlike some people presumed. He'd always liked the outdoors, found comfort in reading in the sun or making 'houses' out of fallen logs and tree branches when he was younger. His mother had always yelled at him for ruining his nice clothes in the mud but Cas had never cared. When he was old enough his father had sent him and his brothers away for a month to learn how to survive on their own. A valuable life lesson and one he knew that many others of his stature had never had. He almost found it embarrassing - for them, not him. But when you live in a castle and have everything handed to you on a silver platter, to some people it didn't matter, not when they didn't think anything bad was ever going to happen to them. This was a prime example that proved the exact opposite of what they all thought, "Finding shelter should be the first priority." Cas presumed that Hylas knew his way around this parts well enough that finding a cave for the night wouldn't be hard, easy in fact, "How long will it take us to reach Eirus from the boarder on foot?" On horse back or carriage Cas knew it wouldn't take long, but they hadn't even reached the boarder after a whole day of traveling. Either they'd have to pick up the pace or send the letter fast.
(ooh: i think you meant they're crossing the border into valthea)
(Yeah, I did, sorry about that)
Hylas nodded, pausing to orientate himself with the hills and the horizon. He almost hesitated as he took a step closer to Cas, eerily aware of their closed distance as he faced south, pointing at the narrow slits of light between the trees. "I don't know if you can see it. The border, it's….hmm. There—" He quietly told him, wearing the faintest of smiles at the sight of the landmark. In the far distance, the softest definition of a waterfall spilled down a low hill of the mountains, catching the light of the evening in a golden spray. "That waterfall marks the edge of Valthea," He said with a long sigh. The day had worn him down, and though his shoulders were softening from fatigue, he couldn't help but drink in the relief of his homeland. The low call of cicadas, the wind, and the river all filled him with a heavy comfort. Is this what coming home feels like? "It'll be half a day's journey to Crowen, if we ready to leave at first light. And we don't need to worry about…bandits or travellers. All the roads to the capital are far from us now." Hylas nodded to himself, unknowingly glancing at Cas with his gentle smile of relief before resuming his walking. There was a strange reassurance that came from living and travelling away from any threat or social uncertainty; and Hylas admired the purity of unbothered land. Moss-covered hills lined this part of the woods, and shallow incurves hid behind fallen boulders. As they neared the river, the caves appeared deep enough to provide a firm shelter. "What do you think of this space?" Hylas asked after a long moment of consideration, slipping his hands into his pockets, "It's big enough, isn't it? Facing away from the wind, close enough to get water from the river."
It was strange to see a smile on the assassins face, one so human Cas almost thought he was dreaming and in reality he was still tied to the cot from that morning. He was relieved when he realised it wouldn't be a long journey tomorrow, the worry that lay heavy on him lifting a mere millimeter but it was enough to rest his tired conscious in the present moment. Cas only nodded as Hylas spoke, letting what felt like some form of solace wash over the two of them as the day slowly drew to a close and the first leg of their journey come to a close. The gentle silence that settled over them for the last part of their walk was almost relaxing, if Cas would dare let himself think that. A gentle breeze cooled the warm air around them and the sun lit everything in a glow that made the woods feel like a part of the tales the two were talking about earlier. It was… nice, for lack of better word. When they stopped, Cas glanced between Hylas that space he pointed at. Big enough for the two of them, out of sight - not that there would be any prying eyes in these parts - and close to everything they needed for the night, "Yes, this will do just fine for one night." The soft trickle and rush of water was a calming sound that filled the area. The prince understood why Hylas liked being out here, away from everyone else when he wasn't on assignment. Quiet, peaceful. If the imminent threat of war wasn't a pressing problem, Cas would have liked to stay out here for longer. Maybe not with an assassin but to just be far away from any issues or royal duties might ease some stress from him, "Right well, I'll stay round these parts and find some wood, start a fire while you go hunt, yeah?"
