forum And God knows (closed)

Started March 18, 2023 by @ElderGod-yellowqueen

tune

Myahil watched her sit up, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion at her words. ‘It’s fine’? How was any of this ‘fine’? Why was he persistently confusing Alora for Cecelia? Why did he feel so drawn to her, while also being so repulsed by the mere thought of getting within five feet of her? He couldn’t stand the woman and her belligerent attitude, but something about her was interesting enough that he couldn’t turn away. Or, was it just guilt for seeing what his actions had done to her? Had he ever felt guilty for anything he’d ever done? No. But… this was a maybe. It had to be.

Despite the whirlwind in his head, Myahil remained silent. His eyes had drifted down to stare absently at the bed directly in front of him, giving Alora some privacy without him even realizing it.

Her words snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him that they had much to do. He nodded and sat up, using the opportunity to break a thread from the bottom of his robe again. He then brushed his hair out with his fingers and braided it again, tying the end with the thread, like he’d done the day before.

“I still have that silver coin you gave me, so I’ll head out and make more of them. I shouldn’t be long,”Myahil stated.

He stood up and, since he was already fully dressed, just straightened his robe before heading for the door. But, just as he was reaching for the handle he froze. He had no idea where he was. He knew he was upstairs, but he didn’t remember anything else about getting to the room. So… with reluctance, and a slightly embarrassed sigh, Myahil turned around.

“Would you mind telling me the way out? I don’t remember anything after you paid the man for this room,”he asked.

It was not fine. None of this was fine. Alora had laid in Mya's arms and she had liked it. She had snuggled into his arms like she was some docile woman who mewled for a man. She had been the woman she had been before. The woman that she thought was dead. She didn't like it. She didn't like that feeling. It made her angry and yet, it didn't. And that frustrated her more.

She didn't acknowledge Mya as he spoke. Good, he was doing something useful. And that meant he would leave this room and give her some room to breathe. Because she felt like she couldn't breathe with him sitting there. Merely feeling his presence had her on edge.

She froze as he spoke once more. Of course, he needed her help. He couldn't just leave the room quietly, could he? As she stood from the bed, she refused to make eye contact with him. She shuffled by him, trying to avoid contact with him. She opened the door and pointed down the hallway. "Stairs are at the end. Go all the way down and it will take you to the tavern. Shouldn't be hard to get out of there. Need anything else?"

She was being short with him, she knew. She didn't really care. Except for some part of her did. And that's what bothered her most. She did care. Why did she care? She wasn't supposed to care. She was supposed to go about her revenge and that was it. The end. But now she was feeling some sort of way. And that dream she had about Edric? It set her on edge. It made her uneasy. She didn't know how to feel now.

Myahil saw Alora freeze and had to suppress another sigh. They were both tense, both needing air, both needing solitude. And, he would’ve kept it like that, would’ve just wandered through the building to find his way out. However, he wasn’t familiar with this town, or its general setup. That made him uneasy. He didn’t want to wander into the wrong room and end up surrounded by enemies with no escape and no weapon.

He watched silently as she got up, opened the door, and gave him directions. Her current attitude didn’t bother him. It was clear why she was acting as harsh as she was, and it was greatly justified.

“No,”he simply replied, his tone even.

He walked away without another word, not looking at her at all. He didn’t dare to. Following Alora’s directions was easy enough, and he headed straight for the door without a word or glance at anyone around.

It was a bit disorienting to see the town in dawn light, and with the town starting to wake up, but he at least remembered the path they’d taken to get into town. After passing the gates, Myahil headed out into the woods, searching for a spot in a secluded area out of sight of the town.

He soon found a tiny meadow, perfectly distanced from the town, and started searching for a spot of good dirt with his feet, like he had before. He dug another bowl-shaped hole, but instead of calling to gold, he called to silver. And, an abundance pooled in the bowl, twice or three times as much as the gold had done. It would mean having to repeat the coin-making process a couple times, but that was no big deal.

Having eaten and slept fairly well recently, Myahil was able to concentrate with minimal effort. With the sun coming up as well, it made copying the original coin’s details much easier, and more precise. However, his tears were much harder to contain.

For some reason, as he was in the process of making a cylinder for the second batch of coins, he started actually crying. It wasn’t tears of concentration staining his face now, it was tears of longing, greif, and the feeling of being overwhelmed. He didn’t know why he was crying, what exactly had caused it, but it was happening.

Still, he continued his spell and was able to make two good sized cylinders and a half-sized one, totaling to about sixty or seventy coins. He’d have to count them to be sure, but it was likely plenty.

After finishing the spell and burying the remnants, Myahil move to a tree and used another spell, calling to the tree for some extra wood for a box. The tree sprouted a new branch, and grew a small box at the end of it. He took the box, gently breaking it off, and the branch retracted. Then, Myahil filled the box with the coins.

As he did so, he found a coin that looked different from the rest. It had a greenish sheen to it. It wasn’t enough to hide the silver, but it definitely made the coin look odd. Myahil paused to inspect it further, then wiped his chin, realizing that his tears had most likely dripped into the silver. Interesting…

He stashed the strange coin in a pocket, aware that Alora would probably question why the coins were an even number now, but not caring. He then tucked the box under his sash, which was big enough to perfectly conceal it, and tight enough to hold it without dropping it. He just had to keep a casual pace, or the box would fall.

Then, Myahil wiped his face and walked back to town. He headed for the inn and the room, but he kept an eye out in case Alora was already busy with gathering supplies.

Alora was silent as she watched him leave. She didn't know why she had watched him. He watched his figure walk down the hall and dissappear down the stairs. She swallowed visibly. She palmer her eyes and shook her head. What was wrong with her?

She returned back to their room and grabbed the cloak he had given her and clasped it around her. She tucked her hair back in the cloak. She woukd buy a hair wrap in tow and swap it out if she find somewhere with privacy. She woukd need to keep her hair covered any time they were near others. Her hair was so easily to spot. And while she wasn't the only one in the kingdom to have red hair, it was too much of an identifying feature.

She looked around the room for anything they might have left or could be useful to her. When she found none, she walked out the door with the keys in hand to return to inn keeper.

She walked back into the tavern to return the keys. She also ordered some food to eat while she waited for Mya's return. It made her nervous being separated. What if someone snuck up on him and killed him? Then she would be dead too.

She found a corner table to sit and eat her food in silence. She level a glare at anyone that tried to approach her and warn them off. It worked. She was not a woman to mess with. Especially not right now. Not when she was in such a mood.

She saw Mya returning through the window she was by and let out a quiet sigh of relief. She finished her food quickly before stepping out if the tavern to greet him. "You get it?" She obviously couldn't ask him if he made some coins. That would raise suspicion. "Let's get our shit and get out of here."

As Myahil closed on the tavern, he watched the windows for movement. He quickly saw Alora’s form approaching the door, so he simply paused outside and waited for her to meet him. She seemed ready to go, and Myahil had all of his things already, so he saw no need to go back inside.

“Yes,”he simply replied, nodding in agreement to her next statement.

He then moved aside for Alora to take the lead. It was a strange feeling to defer to someone else, to let another lead, but he was still quite uncomfortable and unused to being in such a foreign town. He only somewhat recognized the things around him, but the buildings and signs were just too different from what Myahil knew for him to figure out where he was going.

Alora was happy enough to take the lead. She started striding down the street, coming up with a mental list of things. She took note where some things were and would circle back to them.

"Alright, we need packs, weapons, a change of clothes, waterskins, some food rations, some first aid, maybe a sleeping roll. Can you think of anything?" She thought she pretty much had it but she didn't know what his needs were.

As they passed by a simple clothing shop, she stopped to buy a headscarf. It was black and simple and it would work. That was all she needed. She paid for it quickly and ducked into an alley to put it on. She took off the hood and made quick work wrapping the scarf around her head to hide her hair. She unclasped the cloak and held it back to him. She didn't say anything but her eyes said thank you.

"Let's get a pack first so we can pack everything in it." No point in shopping if there wasn't anything to put the necessities in.

Myahil silently followed Alora, unknowingly thinking the same thing as Alora. He was listing any supplies he might need. Though, his list was far shorter than hers, as he soon found out.

“Clearly, I am more minimalistic than you. Most of the things on your list can be made by hand in the wilderness. I’m more concerned about the packs and weapons,”he commented, keeping his voice down, both to keep the conversation private and to disguise his accent somewhat.

He was also considering new clothes, since his own were old. But, he didn’t know if the town offered robes, and he wasn’t fond of the idea of getting clothes from a non-Rhinacules place anyway, for several reasons. Though, were his concerns justified? Or was he just being overly xenophobic? He wasn’t sure.

As Alora bought her new headscarf, he simply stayed quiet, watching and studying everything around them. When she finally held his cloak out to him, Myahil noted her look and nodded in response. He then gladly took the cloak back, caressing the sword-shaped brooch tenderly.

He nearly put it back on, but decided against it when he considered that there might be Rhinacules spies around. If they saw him wearing the cloak, he would be immediately recognized. His particular outfit of ‘black robe and green cloak’ was iconic among the Rhinacules. If they did recognize him, that might not bode well for Alora, and thus himself.

So, he instead folded it, then rolled it up, carrying it under his arm. Once they left town, he might feel more comfortable wearing it again, where any of his spies would be more open-minded about Alora’s presence.

“Logical,”he replied to her words, once again following her.

Alora regarded him with a simple look. She could tell he preferred a minimalist life. The waterskib was obvious but the food rations were in case they went without food for a while or were unable to hunt. The food rations should survive for awhile without molding. She wanted a change of clothes so she could wash them periodically and change them out.

She secured the scarf around her head so it wouldn't blow in the wind. She stepped back out of the alley and stood next to Mya. She watched as he rolled up the cloak and tucked it under his arm. She didn't understand why but she wasn't going to judge it at all. Well she would, but not vocally.

A few more stores down and she found a shop selling backs. She purchased two of them that woukd be large enough to fit their things without being overly too big and weighing them down. The next thing on her list was the blacksmith for weapons. It wasn't hard to spot. She stepped inside, waiting for Mya to come in next to her.

"Whats your preference?" She asked him, looking at all the metal.

Myahil continued to watch their surroundings as she bought their packs. He studied every detail of the town and the shops they went into. As he did so, he realized more and more that he’d never taken the time to actually learn about the towns of Avollone. All he’d ever done was raid them, then burn them to the ground. Such a waste.

As they headed for the blacksmith, Myahil’s attention became more focused on what was in front of him than around him. He was quite fond of blacksmiths, and had once forged his own weapons, though centuries have passed since he lasted touched a forge.

Following Alora inside, Myahil gazed around, an appreciative gleam coming into his eyes at all of the weapons. Though none of them were of Rhinacules craftsmanship, they were still reliable, Myahil could tell.

“I favor swords and bows, typically in a combination of either three swords or two swords and a bow,”Myahil commented honestly, still keeping his voice quieter to disguise his accent.

He was already eyeing the swords and bows, picking out possible options. He didn’t care which combination of weapons he got, but if he got three swords, he had something special in mind for them. Though, he was also open to just a single sword and a bow, if that’s all they would be able to afford.

Alora proffered her magic above all else as her weapon. She had strong magic. She could drown a man standing with the water in his body. She coukd manipulate the blood in their bodies to move thme as she willed. She had mastered the art of water and was considered one of the most powerful and self controlled fae. But even she understood the need for weapons.

Magic could be loud and very noticeable. Anyone with a half decent mind could figure out if her victims had been killed by magic, by water. Discretetion was needed at times. Discretion that a blade allowed. She preferred knives. It offered her both long and short range. She could kill a man from the distance or slit his throat as she snuck up behind him.

She was skilled with a bow and could handle a short sword. Fighting with her fists had never been her strong suite and she opted for her magic instead. The bow would be necessary for hunting, so she looked at those first, finding a long bow with the right pull and weight.

The knives were next. She picked out a series of daggers and throwing knives, along with their holsters. She preferred to be armed to the teeth though she understood they were running on limited money. They still had a few other stops to go to.

"Grab what you like, money isn't an issue." And by the look she gave him, she was telling him he coukd make more if they truly needed it.

Myahil watched Alora pick out her weapons, studying what she preferred. It intrigued him that she’d go for knives instead of swords, considering what he knew of her brutality in her search for him, but it made no difference in the end.

When she turned to him and assured him that she didn’t mind him getting what he wanted, Myahil couldn’t help a chuckle. He understood her meaning, and he did want to remain mindful of their funds, but he loved weapons.

So, similarly to Alora, Myahil looked at the bows first. He grabbed a longbow as well, one that was slightly shorter and thicker than Alora’s. He tested the pull, humming thoughtfully.

Afterward, he turned to the swords, eyeing them closely, mentally critiquing every one. He then picked out a longsword and a scimitar, going for versatility alongside function.

He turned to join Alora, taking a few steps toward her, but froze as he caught sight of a third blade. It was another longsword, but of a different, slightly heavier build.

Myahil moved over and grabbed it as well. He hadn’t planned to grab a third sword, but it called to him for some reason. And, he knew better than to question his instincts with swords.

Finally, he walked over to Alora so they could buy their weapons.

Alora had skills with a sword. She used it more often than not during her hunts. Hunting for the men responsible for her Edric's death. But swords were easily noticed and knives were not. The bow could be dismissed as hunting for game. She liked to appear more docile and innocent. Easier to get her victims closer to her so she could slit her throat.

Knives allowed her to fight in ling range and short range. While she wasn't a coward, stealth was sometimes required. It was easy to flick a wrist and send a knife flying before they even knew what was happening. And sometimes, she liked seeing the whites of their eyes while they died. It gave her some satisfaction.

She watched as Mya picked out his weapons while she strapped her own to her body. Two thigh holsters, where most of the blades fit. She strapped two to her waist. The bow and quiver were slung on her back already. She watched as the man added up the total. The look she was giving him told him not to think to jack up the price because they were outsiders.

She handed over the coin as Mya finished picking out his weapons. They didn't have a lit left over but it would be enough. A spare change of clothes, a bedroll, waterskin and a few rations.

She turned to him, "ready to go?" She asked.

Myahil situated all of his weapons as Alora took care of the payment. He listened to them, studying the procedure for future reference. The more he understood his enemy, the better.

He wore the lighter longsword and the scimitar in scabbards on his hips, then the heavier longsword was in a scabbard across his back. On top of the big longsword went his bow and his quiver of arrows was slung over one shoulder.

He didn’t mind showing off all of his weapons. In fact, he preferred it. It was a show of honor and prowess among his kin, and those that hid their weapons were either assassins or cowards. And, Myahil didn’t tolerate either.

Though, he was aware that subtlety was a necessity currently. Which was why he had certain plans for his swords. But, even if it wasn’t a necessity, he’d still proceed. The two things just happened to coincide.

He finished settling his weapons into place as Alora approached. At her question, he nodded and waved for her to lead. He still wasn’t familiar enough with the town to know where they needed to go. He then followed her out, resuming his studies of their surroundings.

He longed for the wilderness again, but they needed supplies. Or, at least Alora did. Myahil could wander in the wilderness with very little beginning supplies and thrive. That was actually what he’d been doing for a good while, until Alora became too much of a threat to ignore. And, now, here they were. In a town of Myahil’s enemies, seeking supplies that would potentially slow them down, and risking their lives in innumerable ways to find a way to be rid of the damned curse that was upon them. What divine treachery haunted him to have his fate turn so foul?

An agonizing sting erupted in his wrist at the thought and Myahil fought hard to keep from crying out in sheer pain. He took a deep breath, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. He silently asked for forgiveness, and the pain stopped. A barely audible sigh of relief left his lips and Myahil refocused on the world around him.

It wasn't as if Alora couldn't live off the land. She could. She knew how to. Had lived long enough and received enough training that she knew how to survive in the wilderness. She knew which plants were poisonous and which weren't. She knew the best places to seek shelter and how to keep herself warm. She knew how to hunt and scavenge and her magic allowed her for easy access to drinking water. But just because she knew how to survive like that didn't mean she was willing to do it. If she had the resources to provide a more comfortable stay in the woods, such as rations and bed rolls, she would take it. She was a princess, not a savage after all.

Some first aid supplies would be essential. Even with her accelerated healing, it was better safe than sorry. Needle and thread, bandages, some medicines in case of infection. The bare minimum she was willing to travel with. She again knew of how to use different plants to make mixtures to apply to wounds, but sometimes it was better to stick with what was safe. At least one change of clothes was completely necessary to her. She refused to travel in the same disgusting clothes for weeks on end. And socks, socks were important. She wasn't risking her toes at all.

She took note of how Mya strapped his weapons on him. He was making a statement. While she understood it, she wouldn't do the same for herself. Her face itself would put the fear in any who recognized her. And for those that didn't, deceit was sometimes necessary to get what she wanted. She wasn't above using such tactics, nor did she care. She wasn't a good person. She had never claimed to be nor ever wanted to be. She was a monster. This was what she had been made to be.

She walked through the town with a purpose, ignoring the looks and stares from the locals. She was looking at the stalls and shops, looking for what she needed. She found the butcher not far along the path and purchased some dried meat. Something they could nibble on when they didn't want to stop and hunt. She gave them both equal shares and stored hers in her pack.

She started walking again, only to pause in her step as she noticed his pain. he didn't make an outright cry, but his deep breath was as big a tell as any. She glanced back at him, brow raised, but said nothing. His pain wasn't her concern. As long as he stayed alive she didn't care what happened.

As Alora focused primarily on the shops, Myahil kept watch over everything and everyone around them. He wouldn’t risk being attacked. He had too much at stake, too many plans that were nearly complete, to die in an insignificant town because a fool with a rusty knife got a lucky hit.

Myahil stashed his share of dried meat in his pack as well. Though he generally preferred to hunt for his food, he appreciated Alora’s attention to detail. It was always a good idea to have extra food, just in case.

As the pain from his wrist dissipated, Myahil noted Alora’s look. He waved for them to continue moving. He wouldn’t talk about his wrist in public, and the moment of agony was passing anyway. He’d be fine for now, though he doubted that was the reason for her look.

She likely feared the venom would kill him before they were free from the curse. Myahil was almost completely certain that wouldn’t happen, unless he somehow managed to finish his god’s task before the curse was over. Highly unlikely. The task he was given was a long one, and his death now would be rather premature. Myahil’s estimation that he wouldn’t die from the Venom for another few centuries or millennia was one based on extensive research and physical proof, not guesswork. The veins in his arm were like a clock. His end would come when the veins reached his heart. They had yet to even touch his elbow.

Alora gave him one more look before turning to face forward and continue on. She found an apothecary not far along and stepped inside. While she was a fae and a fast healer, it did not mean that injuries could not be grave and severe. Wounds still needed stitching, even if they could be cut out sooner than a mortal could. Poultices to fight and keep away infections were necessary as well. While she was at a lower risk than others for infection, it wasn't impossible. She grabbed a few supplies from the shelves and checked out. She handed over the coin and placed the supplies in her pack.

Another half hour or so walking around the town and she had gotten everything they might need. They were low on coin and would need to stock up on some more should they need to stop in another town along the way. They would stop in one. She would insist on it. She didn't want to sleep on the hard, dirty ground and eat the same three things every day.

She needed variety and a comfortable bed to sleep in now and then. Maybe it was the princess in her but if she didn't have to sleep on the ground, she preferred not to.

Alora turned to Mya, looking at him. "Unless there's anything more you think we need, I'd say it's time for us to get going."

Myahil ignored her final look as his wrist settled down. As they entered the apothecary, he couldn’t help admiring everything. He appreciated medicines and herbs. After all, without them, so many more would die daily, especially in war.

He continued to follow Alora, still memorizing every detail he could about the town. Though, he was more than ready to leave. He longed for trees and dirt and quiet. He hoped they wouldn’t venture into another town for a good long while.

At Alora’s words, Myahil shook his head. He had everything he needed. And, they were probably getting low on coins anyway. He’d make some more later. Once they were far from the town.

“Onward,”he said softly, still trying to hide his accent by speaking quietly.

Alora didn't even give him a word of acknowledgment before turning on her heel and leaving the borders of the town. She was itching to get away so she could take off her head scarf. She didn't like having to cover her hair. Call her vain but it was one of the things she loved most about herself. It was one of the things her dead lover loved most about her as well. He had always been playing with her hair, twirling it around his fingers, pulling on it-

She shook her head. The last thing she needed was to start feeling sad over her dead lover or a rush of lust thinking about sex. This was not the time nor the place. Never mind that she hadn't been in a bed with anyone since the death of her lover.

Her feet were quick across the forest floor. She knew where to step and how to step to minimize sound. Her magic swept out, finding any sources of water nearby. She was trying to find a creek or a river or pond. It was out of habit more than anything. She liked to have a source of water near her. And not just the little amount she could pull out of the plant life around her. She preferred to access to more than just that.

"Do you have a direction in mind?" She asked, not bothering to look back at him.

It didn’t faze Myahil, the way Alora turned and left without acknowledging him. He was used to it, both because most considered him beyond help and because he often did exactly what Alora had just done. Myahil was not a kind leader. He was brutal, unyielding. But nor was he cruel. Everything he did was a calculation, even his harshest acts. Everything balanced out eventually, for the good of his people.

As they exited the town, Myahil moved to walk beside Alora. He kept pace with her easily, his bare feet gliding across the forest floor with such practiced grace. He had spent so many years in the forest that he could almost be one with the leaves and soil at times. It was so familiar, so inviting. Even the Rhinacules cities he had helped build couldn’t compare. It was almost like being home without being home. He couldn’t explain it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dare try either, particularly with Alora nearby.

“My first thought would be to seek out the most extensive library in this kingdom, but I have suspicions on where it might be. And, I am not foolish enough to go there on a whim. Especially with you,”he responded.

Myahil had already considered several different options. Other libraries and archives. Schools. Churches. Monasteries. Museums. Anywhere knowledge of the esoteric would be kept. Unfortunately, he didn’t know Avollone as well as he’d thought. He knew the wilderness like he had been born to it. He knew the layouts of the major cities and every strategical point in and around them. He knew the land was led by fae conquerors, and he already had plans set to topple them.

But, he didn’t know the culture itself, or the people, or the significance of anything within the cities. He had looked from the outside in. And, now, he needed to look from the inside out. Unfortunately, his best way to do that was the beautiful irritation he was soul-tied to. He didn’t like that one bit.

Alora pursed her lips as Mya came to walk beside her. It was almost unfair of how easily he glided along the forest floor. While Alora had lived and traveled through woods for many years, even she wasn't completely soundless. And yet he didn't even make a noise. It was very irritating and just another thing for her to hate him for. Something he was more proficient in than she was. She preferred to better than everyone else.

She looked at him, her expression clearly saying that she was offended. "What's that supposed to mean? I do know how to read if that's what you're insinuating." Just because her favorite pastime was murder, currently, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy a novel. It wasn't her preference to read unless it was a report from scouting or from the front. There was too much consuming her life without her wanting to sit down in the palace library and read a good novel.

She combed through her head and tried to find anything she could think of involving witches and breaking curses and yet she was coming up empty. She wasn't aware of many folklore stories involving witches other than those told in her youth about witches eating young children to boost their magic. That would not be helpful.

"I'd say we could look in the palace archives and see if there's anything of help there, but, well, I can't very well bring you there. Your death means my own and I'm not ready to die just yet."

Not until she fulfilled her duty and avenged her dead lover.

Myahil noticed Alora’s pursed lips and his first thought was a memory of Cecelia playfully pursing her lips before snatching him in a hot kiss. He quickly shoved that memory away, mentally horrified that it would resurface at such a time as this. Her confusing words were a miracle, as they helped distract him from the terrible implications of that memory.

He turned, meeting her offended expression with a raised eyebrow. She had completely missed half of what he’d said.

“I would be horrified if you were illiterate. Regardless, your reading abilities are far from what I was insinuating. I was meaning that I suspect the most extensive library in this kingdom lies within the palace. And, I am wary of going there spontaneously, especially with you, considering that you are royalty,”Myahil clarified.

Her next words weren’t amusing or helpful at all. It was hard not to scowl, but Myahil managed to keep most of his irritation out of his expression and voice.

“Precisely. I would prefer keeping my head attached a while longer.”

Myahil then sighed, running through his list of options again. Without realizing it, his hand drifted up to caress the pendant of his amulet. The very pendant that had softly glowed through the night as Cecelia sang to him. It started glowing again as she appeared once more, squeezing his free hand reassuringly.

Alora huffed quietly, rolling her eyes. She unsheathed a dagger and began spinning it her hand as they walked, the weight of it giving her some comfort. It was true that she preferred her magic over physical weapons, but sometimes a blade was so much more satisfying than drowning a man with his own blood. It was being able to feel every slice of the blade. Being able to feel as their soul left their body. Something that couldn't always be done with magic.

"Perhaps you should send word then. It would be spontaneous if they knew you were coming." She mused, "I'm sure we can hide my identity if it's a problem." She knew it was a problem. "I can hide my hair and wear pretty clothes and a pretty smile if I need to." Just because she didn't prefer to didn't mean she couldn't play a role. She had played many roles these past few years. What was one more?

She turned her head to look at him, pausing in spinning her blade. "Hmm, I suppose so. It is a nice head. A shame for you to lose it."

If she only knew who he really was. She would have taken his head herself.

She turned her head away as he grasped his amulet. Her knife spinning resumed. "Unless you can think of any better ideas, which I highly doubt you will. Why waste our time with the least likely paths when we could just for the one most likely to provide us with the information we are looking for?"

Myahil watched her effortless dagger spinning thoughtfully, but his fascination was quickly ruined by her words. He scoffed at the mere thought of sending word to Alora’s parents. Give them a heads-up of his arrival? What bright idea was that?

“No! That is as much a death sentence as just walking in the door. More so, considering my Rhinacules nature! Besides, you play nice about as well as I play sane. Neither works,”he snapped.

Myahil scoffed again at her next words, not bothering to respond to them. Whether she was being genuine or sarcastic, likely the latter, he didn’t much care. He wanted away from Alora as quickly as possible. Mostly because she was a severe irritation and a loose end, but also because of the way he was reacting to her. He hadn’t felt so uncertain about his actions, even his thoughts, in millennia, and he hated it.

When she mentioned her doubts, Myahil’s eyes narrowed and he let go of his amulet, Cecelia’s hand vanishing with his grip. The more Alora spoke, the more his mood soured. But, it also inspired him. If she was so inclined to return home, then she would just have to wait. He had other business to attend to first before he could head to the capital. Then, and only then, would he be prepared enough to go there without the need of an army following him.

So, without saying a word, Myahil made a sharp right. He grabbed his cloak, unrolling and donning it. Then, he undid the braid in his hair, fluffing his great locks out so that half of it cascaded down his shoulders.

A tension Myahil didn’t even realize he had held finally released itself as he settled back into his typical look. He had missed being a man of the wild. A single night in ‘disguise’ had felt like an eternity.