Private Tales An Oasis Side Escape

[Kiros Rahnel]

Having departed Maraan three days back, Kiros found himself approaching a town further east than he had been in a decade and a half. Never before had he cause to return to Amol-Kalit, but never did he expect Itra to reveal Herself. Seeking to know more, he had only received varied accounts from Allirians that seemed to be the result of rumour. Some knew Her to be Annunaki, others did not; as hesitant as he was to return, it seemed answer might be more likely found here.

The settlement was small and condensed. It sat upon the side of a desert oasis, and likely owed existence to traders common on the route. Having tucked away his holy vestments, Kiros arrived in a simple grey kaftan in place of robes. As he secured lodgings for the day, he looked much as any other traveller might – though inconspicuous as he appeared, he found himself fretful. For here in these lands beneath his former priesthood, he was fugitive. Should they identify and catch him they would see him flayed alive, and damn his soul to the pit. Suffice it to say, it was cause for concern.

As he had settled in, a heard commotion gained his attention. He cautiously ventured from his room enough to gain a vantage point for the source of the sound and confirmed his fears; a small smattering of priests and nobles had just made their arrival Encountering Annunaki priests as he ventured westward was a foreseen risk, but to see such a contingent upon such small community was entirely unexpected.

He had no idea if his arrival had been the cause for their presence, and in his paranoia, he cared not to expend time to confirm his fears. At once, he returned to the room he had just rented and gathered up his belongings in a panicked hurry. Departure from the inn was a simple task. Escape from the town was not. At each of the two gates were members that appeared to belong to the group of recent arrivals. Fearing the worst, he opted for a different egress from the settlement and ventured astray to where the town’s walls met the oasis side. The walls were constructed of stone and jutted into the waterside just enough that he could not cross without wading through. The sound would no doubt cause suspicion in the town's guards.

Desperate for some means of a quiet escape, Kiros scanned the scene before him; the sandy ground behind the wall littered with boards and nails, the resulting refuse of some recent construction. One seemed to fit in the space between the rocks on the wall’s side. It was an awkward placement, but he had just enough reach to see his plan through.

The morning sun would be upon him soon, but he was now ready to make his quiet escape. He set this staff into the water to aid his balance with steady motion so as to cause it minimal disturbance. A wide and careful step tested the board that became foothold, and found it held securely. Relieved that it did, he trusted it with the weight brought by his other foot when a sound behind him gave him a pause.

He heard a voice. And felt paralyzing fear that he’d been caught.

Palmyra Creze

 

[Palmyra Creze]

They were on the way home from 'visiting' Palmyra's parents. They being Palm and he loathsome cretin of a 'husband', and what he called a visit was really just Palm's parents apple-polishing her husband's lordship all whilst they collectively oppressed and browbeat her for their own nefarious desires. Palmyra was exhausted her energy absolutely squandered on her attempts to appease the ever devouring boars deemed to be her family. At least the torment of all three of them together was over, it was just her and her 'beloved' husband. They were in day three of their journey when he assumed her too emotionally broke to make any sort of escape; finally she was allowed her own room, her own bed, of course under the condition her room would have no window and a guard at her door. She frowned as she drug her sandaled feet to her room, grateful for her chance to sleep alone.

When she entered the tiny suite she caught a glimpse of her reflection and cringed. There she was adorned in chains of gold dangled with precious gemstones and fine silks. Her hair braided into an updo meant to display her status, Palm's eyes were lined in thick kohl. It was enough to make her want to gag. She really was an 'exotic' beauty. Disgusted with herself she ripped at the chains, they came off with ease as the stones made light clattering noises as they fell onto the floorboards; bouncing and rolling in various directions about the room. She gave a little smirk, whoever had this room after her would likely be a very happy man. Palm had no use for such extravagance without means to escape, so she had no intentions of gathering such stones. Much to her pleasure the trunk her husband ordered be brought up to her room contained her usual simple linen garbs and her yellow head wrap. He was a fool. That was one of her biggest tools in avoiding him, but perhaps it was a taunt; a taunt that showed her how very stuck she truly was.

Finally she was in something comfortable as she kneeled on the hard wooden floor. Palm's body folded over her knees as she rested her forehead on the ground, her palms open to the sky as she spoke in her native tongue in prayer to her Goddess. She prayed for the usual; her abilities to heal and help, health for her parents and the people that helped her along her previous journeys, except this time Palmyra prayed for something a tad different; help in her escape. Palm needed out of there to do her real purpose; heal. Weirdly enough she was awoke from her trance like state by a bang. It was enough to make the small girl jump as she scanned her room for what could've dropped; then her eyes saw it. The painting that once hung on her wall.. it had been covering something... Palm's eyes widened as she stood up and approached the spot gingerly. A window. Her face lit up into a wide smile, her Goddess looked out for her she did.

Eagerly Palm grabbed at all the scattered gemstones she could; throwing them into the pockets of her linen dress. Morning would be upon her soon and she needed to leave long before then. People would be sure to speak of a woman doing such things, as shimmying around a wall. She jumped out her window, careful to place the painting back behind her. Palm took demented pleasure in the bellows she knew would be heard from many all around after her husband discovered she'd mentally bested him again. Myra knew that he'd find her again one day but she didn't mind. She wished to scream into the sky that she was finally free once again but alas she could not.

As she scurried about the wall alike to a monkey she eyed a man. Her heart froze a little in fear until she clued into what she believed the man to be; a priest. Maybe he could be of help, offer her sanctuary.. she had no time to think before she spoke as she watched him about to step on an unsteady board. "Not that one!" she called out in a heavily accented whisper. Her heart unfroze as it began to pound.. he'd help her... right?

(Sorry if it's too long!!!)

Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

He didn’t normally bother to wear his robes when he did not have to; it drew such needless attention, and the notably tall Kiros stood out plenty enough as it was. This time was one such notable exception for the robes however, for while they made him appear a bit conspicuous, skulking out from town in the manner that he was made him look very conspicuous. Priest or not, were he caught out in the process of doing so, he would need to answer the questions that would follow. Kiros knew full well that his answers would carry greater weight if he presented himself as a priest. While the robes he wore were priestly, they were rather disheveled, telling of the great hurry in which they were donned. He had thrown over his tunic in haste; the ideal outcome involved not getting caught – feigning authority he no longer actually held was his backup plan.

“What one?”

For a moment he looked around, wondering frantically if any others were about. To his great relief, there were no others besides her present; she looked far from nobility in her plain linen and head scarf. It was not what he expected, but then again, a decade and half as the lone priest of Itra had rendered him so pessimistic as to expect the worst – the very thing She oft delivered. His attention next turned to the direction her eyes had been gazing; towards the board he had been using as a footstep had a split in the wood; one that widened and spread as the weight of him bent the board beneath it.

“Oh.”

One foot was braced against his staff, with the other standing upon the most forward stable part of the failing footstep. It was an awkward moment with both scaling the wall, and he knew not what to make of it. He hadn’t been recognized; if that were the case, she would have announced it. But she was being as sneaky as he was, and as quiet too. For what reason, he knew not. But if they shared the same goal of escape, perhaps she could help? Given the perilous stance he was in, he could certainly use the assistance and given his desperation, he’d only hesitate slightly to ask.

“[Maybe you should cross first, you’re quite a bit better at it, just...]” He responded, speaking the words in quiet tone and Kaliti tongue.

He leaned back further away from the wall, with more of his weight placed upon his staff brace against the oasis’ bottom. It sank further into the sandy bed beneath the water, but afforded the smaller Palmyra enough room to pass between.

“[Just…could you give me a hand after? Please?]” He implored, continuing to hold his position away from the wall with a bit of a struggle.

(And not at all; no such thing as too long a post with me )

 

[Palmyra Creze]

She watched as he recognized what she was speaking about. He looked uneasy about his situation, such was to be expected he really wasn't good at scaling the wall. Without her he'd likely fallen and caused quite the commotion and based on his body language that wasn't something he wanted or needed; furthermore it wasn't something Palm needed as well.

He spoke in her tongue, he was either a scholar or from around here, but based on his facial features she assumed it was the latter. Thankfully he understood that he should be quiet. Palm's eyes darted back to the inn she'd just escaped and hoped she hadn't caused too much of a commotion if she had they'd be on the search for her and well this man was an obstacle. He offered her the ability to go first so it seemed he was not an enemy, but he also hadn't proven he was a friend. She nodded. [ Perhaps you are right..] Palm nimbly passed through the small opening he offered her, careful not to knock him over. [Thank you sir.] The girl told him as she lowered herself down towards the ground her arms above her head before kicking off the wall and landing in the sand with a roll. Her body made a slight thunk and Palm made a slight groan. It wasn't the most elegant landing she'd ever completed but it was a landing nonetheless.

Sticky sand covered the linen folds of her dress and her hair, it painted her face from where she'd smushed her cheek across the ground upon landing.

He looked as if he was struggling as he asked for herself. With a nod and a smile she told him [Of course I will help you; stay put.] With that she popped up onto her feet and examined the boards. Many had water damage or were simply old. A predicament indeed. Alas she spied one that was slick with algae but would complete the job regardless. She lifted it up to the best of her ability and set it up against the wall.

[Ramp!] Palmyra whispered to him excitedly, [Watch that spot, you'll slip.] She said on a serious note pointing to the algae covered spot.

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

The given pause remained awkward as both assessed the situation with concern. Pensiveness increased as she glanced back to the inn he had departed from only moments ago, her lips still silent. By Palmyra’s response she did not hold him as a person of interest as he feared, yet her glance back at the building caused him fret. His concern remained with the sudden presence of the noble entourage; as did hers, though he could not know they shared it.

He gave her a friendly not at the remark; well as friendly as was possible whilst half-hanging off a stone wall during an attempt to sneak out of town. Qualms were put somewhat at ease when she resumed her travel over the side of the wall, and he eased back a bit further to ensure she had the room to do so. Dug into the soft sand beneath the waters, his staff slowly sunk into it and caused Kiros to steadily lean back further. He thankfully did not have to clear much room for her, and that she managed to make her way past swiftly was further blessing still.

“[Most welcome]” He replied, quietly but tactfully. He was still a man of noble upbringing after all, even if he had been estranged from it on the order of 16 years. He had his manners, along his mastery of the Kaliti language – his mother tongue, after all. Learning common had been an afterthought. Kaliti he found much more natural to use; that he could speak normally was a small comfort in the middle of a situation that afforded little of it.

In all honestly, he simply expected her to scramble away the moment she was able. But to pleasant surprise, Palmyra did not simply run off. Rather, she promised her aid and remained with him, inspecting what resources were available to her. With hope, he held on and watched her reposition one board against the wall before slowly and carefully reaching to position a foot atop it. After a tense effort and thanks to the aid of Palmyra, freedom was but moments away. Kiros pushed off his staff to stand securely on the ramp.

Not quite nimble enough to reposition himself, he struggled to maintain his balance atop it. He noiselessly plucked his staff from the water to aid him in doing so, and despite the effort, Kiros slipped. He gratefully landed with both feet atop the sand in a soft thud, finally standing stable again.

“[Thank you very much]” He added, with an expression that conveyed the very same sentiment. He still had little clue what to make of her, knew not why she had such need to depart from the town. Nonetheless, that they had the same immediate goal was clear – and this woman had shown herself to be a kind soul. Whatever reasons she had for leaving were doubtlessly better than his - it’s not like she was a murderer.

He looked back at the town, before returning his look to her.

“[We should depart soon, before the sun rises. I’ve no clue what bid you such a hurry as I; but we both clearly share the same goal of getting far away from this place.]” He added, running a hand along his white robes in only a partially successful attempt at brushing off the sand adhered to it.

 

[Palmyra Creze]

Palmyra had to bite her tongue to keep from giggling at his slip. Afterall the man did not laugh when she face planted into the soggy beach. Her the side of her face had made a small crater in the sand and she frowned at it. She knew the tide would wash away all hints of her but she didn't want to take the chance. Palm's hands lifted up the folds of her linen dress as her sandaled foot snaked out to kick a lob of wet sand up and into the indent she had created.

She waved off his thanks, [It is of no issue.] she said with a warm smile that reached up to her kohl lined eyes. Palm's smile was soon covered as she wrapped her face and head up with the long yellow linen scarf she'd kept thrown over her shoulder. Palm was getting antsy as the night sky grew lighter.

He seemed to be in as big of a rush as her as he spoke. [Yes. Far from here.] she agreed. Once Palm knew his story she'd tell him her's but all she knew in this very moment is her husband would likely beat her half an inch of her life the next time he got his hands on her, and she'd like to have as much distance between then and now as possible. [Watch yourself.] Palm told the man as she quietly walked inched around him to drop the board once again. Years of living above the tavern had granted Palm light footsteps, a skill that proved to be most useful.

Palm was most grateful the man spoke her native Kaliti, she was one of the luckier of the poor as in her teacher; the medicine woman, taught her the basics, and her travels taught her more. But like most foreign tongues it'd rarely be as good as your native. And well Palm hated sounding obtuse.

(Sorry for the late reply!)

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

(No worries at all!)

---

He noted the kick that sent wet sand atop the indentation her own impact had made. Her expression as she did told of displeasure, as if she was annoyed by its presence. Wise to conceal herself, though he could only imagine what she had done that gave her such need to do so. Short and small, she looked not the least bit intimidating – in fact she had been polite and helpful, all things told. Which really just made him all the more curious as to her reasons for sneaking away.

More likely that she’d gotten mixed up in some trouble, it seemed, than it was that she was guilty of some serious crime. They were in Amol-Kalit after all, and he doubted it was any more lawful presently than it had been when he was last there sixteen years ago.

Palmyra took a scarf and wrapped it around her head, further concealing her face. He took a look down at his own bright robes before looking back at her. She was putting forth effort to make herself appear inconspicuous, and he was anything but. He’d need to change into less noticeable attire himself; there was no further purpose to his robes now that they were beyond the settlement's boundares. So, he unfurled a dull brown cloak of tone not unlike the sand, and then tossed it over himself hastily. It wasn’t the best fit over his robes and mantle, but there was no time to fuss. They’d need to put good distance between themselves and the oasis before the sun rose again.

[Yes. Far from here.] Spoke Palmyra, vocalizing her agreement to his notion before he even could himself. Kiros merely gave a knowing nod in response, as anxious as she was to make a swift escape.

[Watch yourself.]

[Surely.] He responded, watching as she quietly laid the board back down atop the sand. She moved with a notably light step, even taking her small stature into consideration. This young woman was certainly a graceful one, given her additional deftness in making it around that wall.

Stepping off with her, he kept a hand grasping the cloak to keep it in place, with his simple wooden staff held in his other. While the simple covering would make him look less suspicious to those at the settlement, it would likely raise questions from his companion.

Not that the truth was any more comfortable to share.

She must have her reasons too, to be skulking away as they both were. It seemed doubtful she held much regard for Kaliti authorities, considering that. To phrase his own predicament through such a lens seemed the best way of doing so, if he had to share his reasoning. Which he truly did, given their escape together and the trust it required.

[I should mention; while my faith is Annunaki and I abhor The Three – I am not on the best of terms with the priesthood.] He confessed, though he made no mention of why that was so.

 

[Palmyra Creze]

[ You are in hiding too.] Palmyra didn't ask, rather stated, the woman was well aware of both of their situations regardless how vague the pair had been. Although her story, and questions were for that of another time.

Palmyra picked a direction, despite her usual travelling she hadn't a clue where she was headed. The woman would figure that out once she reached another town. She started walking only to stop a few steps later to the mans statement. He 'abhorred' the three. This made the woman's head swivel; if she'd been an owl it would've made a full 180, but alas she was not. She turned her whole body slowly. Did he not fear their misfortune? Gods did not like when their power was hated; it angered them like small children.

[ I am the healer of Maskat.] she told him quietly, many knew Palmyra was a healer but few knew of her divine blessing and assistance. Her gift was bestowed upon her by Maskat, her protection was granted by Maskat. It was a shame she kept her Goddess a secret most times but some people didn't understand the relationships one could have with a God. [The priesthood has left me alone -- they do not know of my true existence. But I suspect if they did.. you and I would not be so different.] To Palm the priesthood was a group of power hungry men using their Gods as an excuse, and she saw what happened to those when they disrupted that power.

[Is that why you run? Fear of persecution?] Palmyra questioned. A dull smile lit up her covered face, isn't that too why she ran? Though her persecution was of a deeper more emotional sort. A persecution disguised as 'love'.

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

She was right; he was in hiding. What he had reasonably assumed was a quiet oasis town had been host to officials and nobility he hardly wanted to encounter. Erring heavily on the side of caution, he had been promptly spooked from his cozy lodgings to a dawn-break escape.

Upon mentioning his faith and status with the priesthood, Palmyra turned with a strange look on her face. Kiros was left wondering what it meant, did she already see him as a heretic for his estrangement? Fretful that she would, he made a vocal rebuke of The Three to assure her that it had not; by her expression, it did not have that effect. He so despised The Three because holy teachings had taught him to; they had attempted to usurp The Six and were banished to The Pit – a place Kiros was terrified of. A fate feared so much, he’d agreed to become Itra’s prophet to escape it.

But perhaps she misheard him, or perhaps she simply harboured no ire towards the three. Fears that she might be among their worshippers were quelled when she mentioned the deity she gave patronage to – Maskat, a holy goddess, and among The Six. To his further relief, Palmyra further mentioned that she was estranged from the church entirely. Comforted by these facts, he was still left wondering what in his statement she had taken offence to. He remained clueless that his remark towards The Three had caused the reaction.

[ I am the healer of Maskat.]

[My name is Kiros.] He introduced himself, but he’d also have to mention who he was a priest of. Mentioning Itra by name was something he wished to avoid; doing so was likely to anger Her. Normally he would just lie, but neither did he wish to do that. Palmyra had been kind enough; and regardless of his deity, they were in the same position. Mostly – she was not estranged from The Six like he was.

[My deity is Annunaki, but not widely known. She is the Savior of the Crook.] He added, mentioning Itra by the title he had heard Her boastfully use. Doubtful Palmyra knew of the event, but she might. Even if she didn’t, at least he had remained honest in his response. It was surely warranted.

[The priesthood has left me alone -- they do not know of my true existence. But I suspect if they did.. you and I would not be so different.]

[I’m sure of that. I know all too well what the church would do.] He replied. Operating as a priest outside of the priesthood was not taken well – or had not been when he was last in these lands long ago.

[Is that why you run? Fear of persecution?]

At that, Kiros paused. It was not persecution that had brought him to danger, but his status as a wanted murderer. To be honest about his god was a far less difficult task than remaining honest about why he feared the church so. They would execute him, and worse – Kiros felt it just to do so.

[No, not quite... I’ve a past I deeply regret...] He replied with a remorseful look returned to her smile. Unwilling to hide behind lies, he was neither able to come immediately clean about his status as murderer. But he knew not what else to say, and remained reluctant to resort to falsehood. As the two strode on into the desert, Kiros continued to mentally fumble for the best response to give.

 

[Palmyra Creze]

[Palm.] She said nonchalantly to his own introduction. It was curt but not intended to be rude, for the surname Creze was too well known here. Risking dropping that; well it was risking an exposure of her whole identity. He'd find out who she was soon enough when the posters came out. Sketches of her face, stoic as a dignitary should look. Yet those posters would show a Palmyra donned in useless gems and fine fabrics, her hair braided in ornate ways with her thickly lined eyes. She already knew the sketch they'd use, one based off of her husband's most recent commissioned portrait of her. Palmyra was no fool she knew full why Lord Creze had these paintings made; not to display a wife, no, but for moments like this. The moments where Palm was too cunning for him, too sneaky, the moments like this when she'd escape him again.

Palm wracked her brain trying to figure out whom was the saviour of the crook was but sadly those lessons of Gods and Goddesses she'd learned so many years ago had faded to the background of her mind. Her nostrils filled with the scent of the herb crowded shop the former healer of Maskat operated out of in Maraan and her mind was soon shrouded by the love she felt in that small shop. [ You and I are not so different.] Palmyra told her companion slyly.

He spoke and she listened, [We all have a past. We all make choices, choices that stray us from the light and that bring us closer to it.] Her eyes wandered to the tendrils that floated above Kiros' head like they did everyones, [You have a while yet before you are drawn to the darkness.] Palm reassured him softly. Her soul reading ability was before her best gift and worst curse. Until Maskat bestowed it upon her she hadn't realized how dark and decrepit the world truly was. She could never turn this gift off, never tuck it away, no she was stuck seeing people destroy themselves slowly. She was stuck watching evil spread like a poison with each vile word and action.

[Where do you wish to go now?] Palm asked the man, she had no clue where she wanted to go, or where she'd end up so long as she was moving. The jump she had on her husband likely wouldn't last long. Lord Creze got faster with each escape. Her time enjoying the open world got smaller each time.

Palm sighed, it was better to bite part of the bullet sooner rather than when it was too late. [You'll see my face everywhere soon. You won't be able to escape it, nor will you be able to escape the Creze knights patrolling every town in a nearby radius.] It wasn't the full story; nor even half of it. The rest could come later.

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

Hers was simple introduction, concise but sufficient. He’d not ask for her surname; unaware that she had come from nobility, he couldn’t even be sure she even had one. It was common for peasants and lower classes to forego the honorific, and Palmyra looked as if she belonged to one of the two such groups. He’d no idea that she had, in fact, come from wealth. She very much didn’t look the part.

While he'd mentioned Itra, it was by title and not name. Palmyra had looked confused when he had done so, though that was expected. No one had known of Her, and he honestly doubted any would have – aside from himself, who had been cursed with the 'honour' of heralding her. There was little left to mention; he’d dare not make complaint of Her, and especially not to a priestess of the Annunaki. To hold disdain for one’s own god was entirely nonsensical, was it not? She’d no doubt wonder why he’d would he follow one he held with such contempt; to explain that would be a lot to unravel.

[ You and I are not so different.] She remarked.

[Perhaps not; were are alike in situation.] It was reassuring that this kind soul regarded him as such, and it eased his soul to see another outcast so kind. Still, he was left wondering what she had done to make herself an outlaw. He couldn’t imagine she had done what he had done, and though she could not know she displayed understanding regardless. Perhaps she too had made poor choices and come to regret them.

Palmyra then averted her gaze above his head, causing Kiros to turn around in search of what had caught her attention with little clue that it was his own aura. True to her words, it was pure. Kiros was a man eroded by regret, who had torn himself down for what wrongs he had committed. To be a murderer had caused a lifetime of strife, o e he held honest regret in.

[You have a while yet before you are drawn to the darkness.]

[I hope that I may I never be drawn to it.] He replied. In the face of his shattered status as priest, holding onto his principles had become of utmost importance.

[Where do you wish to go now?] Palm asked of him.

[Away; I think we’ve the same goal. I arrived from the east, and had planned to return that way.] He replied. His sudden departure was so unplanned that he had no clue what his destination would be. All he was able to infer from the presence of the nobles was that he ought to leave. He’d arrived in hopes that he might learn more about Itra’s announcement. Such risk had caused him to abandon that effort entirely.

[You'll see my face everywhere soon. You won't be able to escape it, nor will you be able to escape the Creze knights patrolling every town in a nearby radius.]

At the mention of patrolling knights, Kiros paused. He'd believed that it was him they were seeking, though he'd had no evidence to support the notion. But Palm's comment implied that it was her who had been sought out. What she had done, he did not know; perhaps she had stolen, or perhaps she had gone against church teachings. Doubtful he was that it could be as bad as bad as what he had done; He couldn't imagine her as a murderer.

[So, we are both wanted people then. Though I doubt any posters remain of me.] He replied. His crime had been sixteen years ago, and the search for him had surely dwindled down. Still, he had murdered priests. Whether or not a dedicated search had been sent, he remained ceartain thay they would execute him should they find them. He knew not what they would do to her, though with such fret it could not be good.

The two travelled on, in shared desire to avoid those authorities searching for them. But the desert sun began to creep up from the horizon. They'd need to put distance between themselves and the oasis, but they'd also surely need to seek shelter from it