Private Tales Answers With the Ancestors

[Trista]

Trista's breath caught in her throat as she felt Talmanes' touch deepen, his hands exploring her body with a hunger that mirrored her own. She yielded entirely to his touch, surrendering herself to the intoxicating rush of desire that coursed through her veins and ignoring the whispers of caution at the back of her mind.

In that moment, there was only him. Only the heat of his body against hers, the soft caress of his touch igniting a fire within her that she had long since forgotten existed, one that threatened to consume them both. A thrill of anticipation shuddered through her as he drew her close, lifting her effortlessly in his arms.

Her heart pounded in her chest as he whispered his words against her skin, his breath warm against her ear. In that moment, in the strength of his embrace, she knew that she was his entirely. "Forgiven.." she whispered back, and with a nod of assent, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he carried her away into the darkness.

 

[Tal]

Talmanes' fingers stroked slowly through Trista's hair. Drawing long rivers through the dyed dark hair, slowly flowing down until he touched her bare skin.

His chest slowly rose and fell, heart beating like a steady drum.

Trista's warmth pressed half against his side and half atop him. His tent wrapping them in some semblance of privacy, the blanket that lay beneath them shifted and bunched upon the bedroll. Talmanes' fingers continued their slow journey across Trista's skin, his hand drawing an almost indescribable pattern.

The Prince breathed softly, his head shifting so that he could look down at her. "Have you ever been to the lower-city?."

He began quietly, his voice still hinting at a needing rasp.

"Where the old Temples lay." Though most Tyrians still clung to many of their old ways, especially the worship of their ancient ancestors, the Ogre's did not. They had revered a Pantheon once, thirteen ancient and powerful gods who had once been worshiped by the masses. Now, centuries later, that worship had fallen to atheism and an adherence to other faiths.

The Old Temples however, still stood. Even the most powerful of unbelievers had refused to tear down the structures, as much for their beauty as the reverence within them. Thus the Temple District of the lower-city had been born. An almost abandoned monument to the gods that many had forgotten. Maintained by only those who still remembered.

 

[Trista]

Trista's voice was soft, her words drifting lazily as she basked in the afterglow of their intimacy. She shifted slightly against him, relishing the soothing sensation of his fingers tracing patterns across her scarred skin.

"No. Never," she answered quietly, her eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "I was never allowed." There was a hint of sadness in her tone, a fleeting shadow that crossed her features before she pushed it aside with a gentle smile. "But I've heard it's quite incredible..."

Her gaze held his as she spoke, curiosity flickering in the depths of her eyes. "Have you?"

As she awaited his response, she couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the prospect of exploring a part of Tyr that had always been forbidden to her. She smiled at the thought of standing amidst the ancient Temples, surrounded by the echoes of forgotten prayers and lost gods. It was a world she had never known, a world she had only glimpsed in tales and whispers. And yet, in that moment, like everything else since she had embarked on this journey with Talmanes, it felt within reach, waiting to be explored.

 

[Tal]

"Yes." He breathed in soft retort.

A part of him never wanted to leave that moment. There would have been no gift greater than remaining in that tent with her. It felt like an age since he had given someone his trust. Like a century since he'd allowed someone this close without the fear of a knife in his back.

He was a fool, perhaps.

There was always the chance, always the slightest chance that she would betray him, but apparently Talmanes was willing to take the chance. His fingers drew against her skin, pulling her ever so slightly closer. "I have."

"There is a place, at the southern edge of the Temple of Bel'al." He whispered quietly. "Spill your blood, whisper my name..."

For a second Talmanes paused, then he continued. "You'll be safe there, in case things do not go the way I think they will."

The way he hoped, the way he planned.

 

[Trista]

"Everything will go as you want it to go.." she murmured, her words spoken softly against Talmanes' chest as she nestled closer to him, seeking comfort in his warmth and strength.

The thought of anything happening to Talmanes now filled her with anxiety. Without him by her side, she was vulnerable, exposed to the whims of fate and the machinations of their enemies. He was her lifeline, the one person she trusted above all others to keep her safe from harm.

"I am safe here," she whispered, her words a whispered admission of her dependence on him. Her hold on him tightened slightly then, a silent plea in her embrace, a prayer for their safety and for their future together.

 

[Tal]

Talmanes did not say anything else, but he hoped that she remembered his words. There was no telling what the future held. He had planned well, and things had gone his way so far, but there was no real telling what twist or turn fate would throw their way.

They had to be careful, and now that he had shown her that sliver of trust...he could not help show her more. "You are."

He said softly, agreeing, though did not remind her of the danger that he was already in. Back home many enemies awaited him, and their journey was not yet complete. Trista knew that, he knew that, but in the moment there was no need to remember.

Not now.

"But." Talmanes said as his fingers slowly threaded through her hair. "Remember all the same."

The Prince urged. Wanting her to be safe.

 

[Trista]

Trista smiled softly at Talmanes' words, at his concern for her safety. How long had it been since any truly cared whether she was safe? His touch, gentle and comforting as his fingers continued to comb through her hair, was a soothing balm to her weary soul.

"M-hm," she murmured in agreement as she nestled against him, her voice soft and drowsy. She would remember his words, tucked away in the recesses of her mind like a precious treasure. She understood the importance of staying vigilant, of remembering the dangers that lurked around every corner. But for now, in the safety of his arms, she allowed herself to relax, to let go of the worries that weighed heavy on her mind if only for a little while, and she drifted off to sleep with a contented sigh.

 

[Tal]

From there the night slipped away, and dawn jumped quickly upon it's heels.

There was no sun, of course, not yet, but the time passed nonetheless. By the time noon rolled around the Caravan had once again gotten rolling. The last piece of their second leg went as smoothly as the rest had, no monsters or storms of ash pushing them off course.

Upon the last creek of water, Talmanes called for as much to be taken as possible. They had made it through the Ash Wastes, and there would be water on the other side of the mountains. Now however it became a battle against the heat, the landscape of Sheketh ready to greet them with the molten rock it was so famous for.

Volstus, Talmanes noted, was pointedly ignoring him.

The Great Ogre was not clueless when it came to what had happened. After all, The Prince and Trista had kissed in clear view of those who remained.

Talmanes ignored it, for there were other things to worry about. The journey under the mountain was coming to an end, and despite himself a small knot of anxiety had grown in his stomach. Not because of those whom they were bound to meet, but worry for them.

Sheketh was a hard place, and there was no telling who had survived the decade since he had last walked here.

That small trickle of anxiety would perhaps be a bit more obvious to Trista as they walked. His fingers slipping over her skin as he walked by her. Calling to the others just a few seconds later. "An hour! We'll see the sun."

He said, a small smile touching his lips.

 

[Trista]

As Trista walked beside Talmanes, her steps steady and determined, she couldn't shake the lingering tension that filled the air. The knot in her chest tightened with each glance towards Volstus, sensing the weight of his disapproval or perhaps his silent judgment. She wondered if he was purposely ignoring her too, or if she was simply avoiding him out of uncertainty.

Despite the unease that lingered within her, the prospect of finally seeing the sun again filled her with a sense of relief. The thought of emerging from the dark tunnels into the light of day brought a glimmer of hope amidst the worries that weighed heavy on her mind.

Their pace seemed to quicken at the prospect of sun, and soon she could feel a fresh breeze on her face and the darkness started to dilute.

"Light up ahead!" a man up ahead called before a rock flew at his head, and knocked him clean out.

 

[Tal]

The man crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. Thudding onto the earth without pomp or ceremony, and instantly Talmanes knew what had happened. A curse left his lips, and with only a single glance towards the others the Prince suddenly rushed forward into danger.

"A'kili!" He called out into the light. His form suddenly disappearing as the sunlight bathed over him.

Talmanes called in the native tongue of their people. Old Tyrian was not something spoken often, even within the halls of the Nobility. It was harsh and guttural, and in it's oldest forms tended to make ones throat feel like they had just swallowed glass.

"Don't attack!" He called out in that guttural fray. "It's me! Talmanes! I've returned."

The words were shouted as the others in the caravan slowly hesitated. The sunlight now fully bathing into the tunnel obscured details of the outside, though those who followed along would quickly see Talmanes standing in a rocky clearly, his arms outstretched and waiting.

It was easy to expect another rock to slam into his head, but instead a voice rang out.

"I thought I told you never to come back!"​

Broken come fell into the clearing, followed by a loud and boisterous laugh.

 

[Trista]

Trista's heart leaped into her throat as she watched the man collapse, the thud of his body hitting the ground like a heavy weight on her chest. She turned to Talmanes as he rushed forward, her hand reaching out instinctively to stop him, though not quickly enough, and she called after him as he disappeared into the sunlight.

Panic rippled through the chamber, a chorus of alarmed voices rising in symphony. But amidst the chaos, Trista found her voice, urgent and commanding.

"Hush!" she called out, her words cutting through the turmoil like a knife, and surprisingly, they did.

She moved after Talmanes, closely followed by Volstus, and they both stopped in the mouth of the chamber, the Ogre's hand on her shoulder in case she meant to go further. Trista couldn't understand the unfamiliar language he spoke, but she recognised what it was.

The laughter that echoed through the chamber caught her off guard, a sharp contrast to the tension that had gripped her moments before. It was a sound of familiarity, of camaraderie, and it eased the tightness in her chest. Trista glanced at Volstus, a hint of incredulity in her expression, before offering him a small, reassuring smile.

"They remember him," she murmured softly. Despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

 

[Tal]

A grim smile flickered over the Prince's face, his hand still raised high up into the air. "Aye, you did!"

He called out into the unknown, his voice reverberating through the caverns with lay beyond. His voice echoing through the tunnels as he shouted. Those within the caravan hanging back within the confined of the underground passage. Skulking to avoid the hail of arrows which might yet come.

"But I am stubborn!" The Prince declared, his eyes briefly flickering back towards Trista. "And have caused more riot than I care to admit!"

Talmanes called, his words calling for another ripple of laughter.

 

[Saen]

A thud rang out as boots struck against the ground. First a single pair, the two, and then a dozen which followed.

They seemed to appear from nothing, crawling out of the cliffside and dragging themselves into view as the Prince's words echoed within the small cavern. They stepped forth as mirrored shadows, moving as the Eldest of them passed into the clearing of stone. "How long has it been?"

Saen called to the wayward Prince.

"A decade?" He asked. "Maybe more."

Lips pressed to a thin line as the old, almost ancient, Tyrian dropped from his perch and into the valley proper. His clothes a mix of mink and merk. The furs hunted from some of the most dangerous creatures on Sheketh. His gaze bright burning gold.

A mark of the old Kings of the Tyrian. "I thought you would have learned your lesson last time, Talmanes."

The chief called as he appeared among the cliffs. Standing to his full height among the cliffs.

"But nevertheless." He said, glancing as those below. "You and yours are welcome to our fires, and a taste of our blood."

Saen said, reciting the ancient oaths.

 

[Tigris]

The large, white tailed eagle that alighted on a nearby stalagmite eyed Talmanes from behind Saen's shoulder, letting out a sharp peal as it's wings -near the width of a man- fluttered and folded against its back. The bird recognised him, and Talmanes would no doubt recognise Tyche too, her eyes, one golden, one white, blinking at him as she clicked her beak.

Tigris was not far behind. She had been waiting further down the tunnel, hidden and prepared to launch her attack should any manage to flee, though the moment she heard Talmanes' voice she and the others had given up their positions to race one another to the chamber. Tyche won, of course, but Tigris was a close second, skidding to a halt before two young males shoved at each other for third place.

Golden eyes settled on Talmanes, narrowing in scrutiny, as though she struggled to believe it truly was him.

"You're back.." she called from the mouth of the tunnel, her arms folding. Tigris could hold a grudge, and she'd held this one for over a decade. She had wanted him to stay here, where in her view, he belonged, certain he'd die if he left. She didn't much like being proven wrong either.

Her eyes drifted across what others she could see, her nose wrinkling in annoyance as she wandered to her father's side. "What are we, a tourist attraction?" she asked, her accent thick with a dialect as old as the mountains around them.

 

[Tal]

A grin spread over Talmanes' face. "I am a slow learner. Thank you Tyr'den, I promise me and mine will hold to your laws and spill no blood."

The Prince said, bowing his head ever so slightly in perhaps the greatest amount of deference Trista had ever seen him show to anyone. His eyes flickering briefly as the massive wings of Tyche swooped over his head and swung around Saen. The giant eagle shifting and landing just behind the clan-chief as his arrival heralded the-

A voice echoed from the mouth of the tunnel, and Talmanes turned on his heel.

The wide smirk on his face faltered not a bit, even as she offered the small barb to her father. Talmanes stepping forward, hands dropping as he began to make his way towards the cliff-face where the others were now perched.

"With what I found here last time." He asked, his arms spreading outwards. "How could I possibly return by myself?"

 

[Saen]

A frown creased Saen's lips as he heard Tal's words. Watched him step forward. He offered Tigris a look as she came to his side. Worry creasing the corner of his eyes.

Concern not about the Prince's intentions, but for him.

Talmanes had earned the trust of his people, had earned his trust. Saen did not think the boy would bring harm to the tribe, but ten years ago he had learned just how reckless the boy could be. A fact which had been almost obvious upon finding him.

"But you bring only one other Tyrian?" The Chief replied finally, his voice just a tad more somber as his golden eyes slowly drew to the caravan behind the Prince. Keen eyes having flickered over those who had come with him. "What is it that brought you back, Tal?"

The Chief asked, his lips pressing to a thin line as he looked down at the boy. "I promise you, Saen. I will tell you everything."

Talmanes offered from below, his gaze flickering over towards Tigris.

"But please, allow me a night home." The words rang out, echoing through the cavernous walls of the mountain valley. "Allow me a night without questions or concerns."

He asked, gaze turning back to Saen.

For a long moment the old Man cast a weary stare down at the Prince. Wondering if he was going to get himself nearly killed once again. Wondering if he hadn't done so hundreds of times in the last decade. After a second more of thought, he glanced to his daughter. "A nights rest. Then answers tomorrow."

The Tyr'din to the man his daughter had once found on deaths door.

 

[Tigris]

Tigris' arms knotted across her bare stomach, her skin more visible than not and almost every inch of it heavily tattoo'd in blood-red, swirling runes. She snorted a sharp huff, her gaze narrowing in scrutiny as she drew it over the Tyrian her father spoke of.

"What sort of Tyrian falls to slavery?" she frowned, her eyes falling back to Talmanes. "She is yours? Or our brother Ogres, perhaps?" she asked. "Suppose she helped you through the doorway this time." her lips quirked almost cruelly, but her jealousy was not as well hidden as she'd have liked.

 

[Trista]

Trista's head dipped in silent greeting to Saen, and despite the disappointment in his tone, she fought a small smile to have been acknowledged as Tyrian. Most people saw the veil and collar around her neck and saw her only as a slave. They'd even made her dye her hair, as though she were undeserving of her true colour, as though she might offend others of true blood. Her eyes though, couldn't be changed, not lest they blinded her, and there was no use in her then.

She remained close to Volstus, her gaze drifting over those who looked down at her from above. How primal they looked. The tattoos on the girl's skin had drawn her attention until she realised she was looking directly at her, or, sneering at her. Trista's eyes fell to the ground..

 

[Tal]

Tal's features flickered for a brief moment as Tigris words passed into the air. "The very same sort as me, Tigris."

The Prince rebuked, though his tone was not cutting.

"And you." He continued as he stepped towards the two Wildlings, moving towards the slope of the cliffs so that he would no longer have to shout. Noting that Saen was no longer watching him, but instead only staring Trista. His mind likely echoing the same thoughts as his daughter. "They collared her for her fathers crimes."

Talmanes explained as he reached the two wild Tyrians. His voice dropping to a somber tone. "She was placed in chains by people who did the same to me."

Both Tigris and Saen knew that had his magic had been sealed before his arrival. The two, particularly Tigris, had been the one to actually teach him how to survive without it. It was thanks to her that he knew these lands, and it was in large part thanks to her that he had survived after he left them.

His chains had not been a collar, but the intent had been the same; control.

"But she is slave no more, and will not be again." Talmanes said as he took another step and proceeded to grab and pull Tigris into a tight embrace. "Be kind, as you once were to me."

He asked of her softly, and then whispered in her ear. "It's good to see you."

 

[Saen]

His daughters words echoed those floating through his mind. His eyes set on the girl, inspecting her with the scrutiny a father might offer a long lost daughter. Not hostile, but tainted with an odd sort of disapproval and slashed with concern.

The Chief's gaze flickering to the Prince as he explained, ready to offer him a hand across the face if he did have a hand in 'owning' her. A small trickle of relief coming to his heart seconds later when the girls circumstances became clear. "They have gone so wrong."

Saen whispered, more to himself than to Talmanes.

His head shaking as he watched the Prince returned embrace Tigris. The deep frown on his lips turning to a smile for a brief moment before he gestured to the caravan in the distance.

"Come!" He shouted to them. "It is not safe to linger here for long!"

The Chief called, never liking to linger outside where they knew it was safe.

 

[Tigris]

Yellow eyes bore into the Prince as he explained the slave's circumstances, her nose wrinkling in a silent sneer. It disgusted her that the blood of their ancestors could ever be shackled, that they would ever be made inferior when they were exactly the opposite. This one, stood here with her head bowed as though she didn't have every right to be here, obedience beaten into her no doubt. It made her sick to her stomach.

The scolding gaze narrowed on Talmanes as he made his promise about the girl, her head tilting ever-so-slightly, but she did not get to comment before she was pulled against him. Tigris huffed, though she could only remain rigid for a moment before her tension melted and her lips curled.

Arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace, her eyes on Trista for a moment before they closed and she sighed deeply. "You came back.." she said quietly, a rare smile in her voice.

She pulled away at her father's words, but her grin remained as she reached to take Tal's face in her hands, studying his face. "Look like you could do with a good meal. Smell like you could do with a good bath." she laughed under her breath and looked back to the slave who wasn't a slave.

"You too.. Lets get that shit out of your hair." she offered with a small smile. A click of her tongue, and Tyche launched from her perch to alight on Tigris' outstretched arm, the bird the size of a small child.

 

[Trista]

Trista felt her cheeks heat and her stomach twist as she watched the interaction between Talmanes and his old friend, casting a glance up at Volstus if only to look away from their embrace and the woman's scrutiny until that was, that she addressed her and her hair.

Trista dipped her chin in a nod and gave a meek smile in response. "Thank you.." she cleared her throat, her attention shifting to Saen with another nod in gratitude, and she followed along quietly.

 

[Tal]

Volstus looked down at the little Tyrian at his side, sympathy flickering through his gaze before both of them returned their eyes to the Prince and his new company.

At this point the Great Ogre did not know what to think about all of this. Talmanes had kept so many secrets, had twisted Trista's mind in circles. What the hell was he doing? Why had he dragged them all out here, what was he hoping to find?

These people?

They certainly seemed glad to see him, they welcomed him as family with open arms, but why bring the Caravan? Why bring them all? Frustration billowed from the Ogre in the form of a huge sigh as he silently trudged after Trista. He needed to speak with Talmanes. Soon.

For his own count, the Prince seemed in more than good cheer. A bright smile sat on his face as Tigris offered an olive branch to Trista, and as the former slave joined her fellow Tyrian's a sort of pride seeming to glow from him. As if he felt truly among his people.

 

[Saen]

Saen lead them through the mountain passes.
Though the lands of Sheketh were plenty in their own way, much of the mountains appeared to those with an untrained eye as little more than barren and craggy cliffs that were impossible to traverse. His people knew better of course, having lived and survived here for centuries since their ancestors departed the sacred lands they now guarded.

With a shocking efficiency the men and women of the wilds moved around the Caravan. Aiding in moving carts, luggage, and people. Some even spoke to their new guests, a mark of the trust that Saen's welcome extended to the outsiders.

As they walked, the Chief slowly began to fall back from the head of the column. Drawing himself into the crowds as he allowed Tigris, Tyche, and Talmanes to lead the way to one of their hidden holds as he stepped to move alongside the Tyrian that the wayward Prince had brought with him.

The Elder falling into step besides Trista as he introduced himself. "I was hoping to speak with you for a moment, if it is alright?"

He asked softly.

"I am Saen." The Old Chief said, introducing himself with a smile.

 

[Trista]

Trista peeked along the side of the caravan to where Talmanes and Tigris took the lead. She could hear others whispering around her, averting their eyes when she looked at them. Volstus walked silently beside her, and Trista didn't dare say a word as she remembered his warnings, warnings she had entirely ignored.

She hadn't noticed that Saen had fallen back until he spoke, and her gaze snapped up, her brows lifting. "I... Yes, of course.." she cleared her throat and dipped her chin formally. She wasn't terribly used to anyone paying her much attention, she was used to blending in, to staying silent.

"My name is Trista.." she replied cautiously, casting a glance toward the front of the caravan once more..