Private Tales A Different Kind of Blood

[Aristeia Darke]

Alliria could not charm Aristeia into loving the city. It was far too noisy and busy for her liking, but the gardens found in the home of Lord Bancroft had been tailored to see to Aristeia's needs for peace. She was most grateful that the Lord and Lady Bancroft were adamant on making her comfortable, but she had all the reason to believe that it was all at the behest of her sister. Without her own offspring of family to dote on, Aristeia was now the sole subject to Lorelei's worrying.

For it was a thing to worry when her health has been on the decline as of late. Sten via cigarettes had never made her feel at ease, but it was only in desperation that she would take them. Sparingly at that. Her moods and behavior soured as bloodlust ran rampant, but Aristeia's faith in Moire was what kept her from falling off the precipice.

Prayer and meditation in these gardens made her feel safe. Made Aris feel in control to have the staff of this estate approach her.

Winry found her in the center of the gardens, lounged across a plush chaise beneath the marble stone gazebo. The sun had found her, but fleetingly warmed her before it became an irritation. She was reading, another new hobby she had taken up to fill her time while Lorelei was out doing what she did best, leaving Aristeia to recover.

"Your guest is arriving shortly, my Lady."

Aristeia's brows furrowed. "Without confirming their acceptance of the invitation first?" She closed her book, a finger wedged between pages to keep place. "Did we miss an acceptance letter, Winry?" Sitting up now, she reached for a slice of ribbon to replace her finger in her book, frowning at Winry who had been assigned to ensure Aristeia was being fed and taken out from her rooms daily and not to wallow in the darkness.

"Your sister did say he was quite... abrupt." Winry winced, placing a tray of tea cups down on the table set up in the middle of the area. She had last taken tea here with Lorelei, the conversation about her sister's efforts to making more blodwyne and the like. Everything they needed to thrive in this new world. Aristeia had hoped she did not look so desperate in her sister's eyes to worry her.

"Have the peppermint tea ready. Perhaps the lemongrass also..." Aristeia now felt unprepared. Surely her invited guest would have sent notice of his arrival than simply appearing at the gates. "Biscuits too, perhaps some scones..."

"Allow me, Lady Aristeia. I will see to it on your behalf. I shall return with your guest and the tea."

 

[Afanas]

Aristeia Darke

The heavy glass doors creaked open, their ancient hinges groaning in protest as the figure stepped through. A rush of cold air followed him, making the tree branches sway and shadows dance along the lush, grass-encrusted ground. The man, impossibly tall and draped in dark finery, moved with a regal grace, his long, flowing hair curling like tendrils of smoke around his pale, statuesque face.

His cloak billowed behind him like the night sky unfurling, specks of distant starlight glimmering on its surface. A wide-brimmed traveler's hat rested upon the crown of his skull, its shadow darkening his alabaster countenance.

Small, metallic ornaments clung to his form-fitting bodysuit, swaying with each slow step, their faint jingling the only sound beyond the rhythmic click of his boots against the marble walkway. His sharp, unreadable gaze landed on Aristeia and the male came to a halt, inspecting her features with passing curiosity.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?"

 

[Aristeia Darke]

Aristeia's eyes narrowed as she appraised him. He certainly dressed the way Winry had told her, and held a way of captivation that drew the eyes to his person. Afanas looked so odd out here in the bright garden, a crow amongst the wildflowers. His stare was long enough for him to size her up.

Of course, the younger Lady Darke looked nothing alike in obvious features to her older sister, but there were those subtle details that showed they were indeed related. Where Lorelei was like the burning rays of the sun, Aristeia was the light of the moon.

"I invited you because I was unable to make introductions with my sister the other day. Admittedly, I have been unwell and unfit for visitors either... but you, I was most curious of all." Pale eyes gave him another curious once over. "Will you take a seat and have tea with me? Please, I must insist."

In the time Winry had gone to fetch the tea and sweet treats, she knew he would be appalled their guest had not waited to be escorted to her. In fact, now that she sat in her seat at the table, Aristeia was glad to have a moment alone with their guest. "Allow me to introduce myself. Lady Aristeia Darke, Priestess of the First Mother."

And yet, Aristeia did not offer her hand, despite it being gloved. It was habit not to extend her hand, since her very skin was poison.

 

[Afanas]

Afanas stalked closer, bending forward to grip one of the chairs by its backrest. His hands were huge, the size of dinner plates, with long, slender digits, each of which was tipped off by a lacquered black claw, giving them a talon-like quality. His pale knuckles bulged with subtle tension as he drew the chair back and seated himself upon its wooden frame.

The wood creaked under his brawn, and for a second he feared it might break. The woman before him was so much smaller than himself. She had no such worries, he imagined.

Afanas leaned forward, but his eyes, those twin stygian pools, never left Aristeia's face. His thick, chestnut-colored brows furrowed slightly, followed by the parting of his impossibly pale lips.

"I am Afanas, son of Vlakhos, but you know that already. As for your sister, I hope you won't get the wrong idea. Our partnership is of the purely professional kind."

 

[Aristeia Darke]

Intrigue had Aristeia still studying him as he made to sit and tested the sturdiness of the chair. Her lips pursed, waiting to see if indeed they had truly been tested but with groans and great persistence, the seat remained. Humour made the corners of her lips twitch upwards, and Aristeia released her lips into a small smile.

"Majority of acquaintances my sister makes is in a professional manner. It was when she asked me if I would like to come along did I feel curious to meet you, only when I was faring better..." Aristeia had not chased up on the contents of her meeting with Afanas. She had never concerned herself with such business, not when her path took her down the road of becoming a Priestess that served to the First Mother, Moire.

Winry arrived with the tea, saying nothing of their guests wandering through the home without being presented to the Lady. He announced the two pots of tea and placed biscuits and cakes stacked on a plate in the table's center. With a gentle smile to Aristeia, he went to stand a short distance away should Aris need him to return to the home.

"What is it that you do here in Alliria?" Aristeia posed the question, reaching for the peppermint tea and pouring herself a cup.

 

[Afanas]

Aristeia Darke
The question lingered in the air, piercing and unexpected. Afanas's brow loosened slightly, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. He had been expecting a less straightforward inquiry.

He shifted in his seat, one of his long digits tracing small circles against the polished armrest. His breath caught in his throat, and a slow, creeping warmth spread through his chest—not the comfort of a familiar fire, but the uneasy heat of something unexpected, something intrusive.

"I've spent many a year as a sellsword and a vagabond monster slayer. It has been my desire as of late to find a place that I could call home, if not settle down."

Shadows seemed to deepen beneath his eyes as he spoke. He rubbed a hand against his face, as if trying to wipe away the weight settling there, but it lingered.

"The constant traveling and lack of socialization have done a number on my mind. In Alliria, I could be something apart from a hired killer and could do much good. I already am, in a way. The merchant council plans to elect me as the city's first warmaster."

 

[Aristeia Darke]

Aristeia listened, all the while sipping from her tea and feeling a calmness the hot liquid gave her as it traveled inside her.

"My sister is searching for a home too." Perhaps he knew of this. "And so I do hope you have good fortune in finding a place to call home." And if it be Alliria, that he was strong to withstand the constant bustle and noise that polluted this city on either side of the continents.

"Tea?" She asked, setting her cup down and gesturing to their the peppermint teapot or the lemongrass teapot. "To help wash down the biscuits. Rich flavours they have." Or she was told by Winry. Aristeia's appetite was waning these past few weeks, but at least she could still eat her raw meats when she does join her sister and her intended for dinner. At least the tea was easy to stomach for her. Aristeia did not want to seem rude to leave her guest alone in the act of having tea and sweets. "Forgive me, Afanas, I am not familiar with the term warmaster. Are we to expect conflict?"

And for one that learned to school her expression from her sister, Aristeia was lacking in her control when her facade took on the features of worry. She trusted Lorelei, trusted in her plans and ideas, but the Priestess did not want Lore's plans to become interrupted, especially when Aris had been so far removed from any plots of what they will be doing.

Aristeia was too fragile, too unstable, to withstand more chaos.

 

[Afanas]

Aristeia Darke


He cradled the delicate porcelain cup in his hands, the intricate floral patterns catching the light. As he lifted the cup to his lips, steam rose gently, curling into the air like wisps of a soft cloud. His eyes closed momentarily as he took a sip, savoring the rich, earthy flavor of the beverage.

Her second question, though, caught him unprepared just as much as the first one did.

"Gods above and below, no."

The smile that graced his ivory-white countenance was a tentative one.

"But the city needs ordering, I fear. Various powerful merchants have been bringing foreign mercenaries into the city by the hundreds and thousands. The council has all but lost its monopoly on violence here. In their desperation, they commissioned me to amass a force potent enough to expel the aforementioned sellswords before a coup can break out. Ironic, I know, considering I'm a foreigner myself."

 

[Aristeia Darke]

Relied flooded her quicker than her tea could reach her stomach. Her shoulders relaxed, and Aristeia offered the male a small smile. "Ah, order."

And with a title that should ensure just as much.

"That sounds like a weight upon you. There are those looking to you to see how you will lead them forth... Admirable." For in all her life back in Anver, it was the women shaping the future and prosperity of their people. Awakening into this modern world had been a culture shock for the Priestess, but she had been hidden in the temples of their gods for so long, she had never learned about the different cities and lifestyles across Arethil. "You certainly have the required experience for such a job, according to what you have told me."

Aristeia fixed him with an amused smile.