Private Tales Answers With the Ancestors

[Tal]

The words were invigorating in a way that he could not have described on any other day. Trust in his world had always been so thin. A thing that would slip between the fingers, water, dripping from his grasp. When he found it, when he could finally take the trust offered, the feeling was like nothing else.

"Yes." The Prince said softly. "Yes, I will."

Talmanes whispered as he slipped his hand into Trista's, and took her out onto the Dance floor.

With the music playing, and the crowd around them shifting and turning to their own dances the night within the Wilds seemed to fade away. They danced for what seemed like hours, cheered on by those around them and trailing long into the night.

It was impossible to tell how long the party lasted, or just how many songs passed on by. The Blood Witches sang their tunes, and the Tyrian's of the wild played their soft songs. Every member of the tribe swung across the dancefloor or made their presence known. Even Saen and his sister graced the wooden boards laid down, the Chief making no less a fool of himself than anyone else.

Only when the sun outside the cavern began to rise did people finally break away, those of the Caravan meeting their bedrolls while the Tyrian's retreated to homes carved into the ancient earth.

In the end, only a few remained upon the platform, among them Talmanes. A small cup lay cradled within his hand, a smile on his lips as he slowly swirled it around. "What do you think?"

He asked Trista softly.

"About the Tyrians of the Wild?" The Prince smiled as he turned to her.

 

[Trista]

Trista was flushed from the dancing, a pleasant warmth spreading through her body as she leaned against Talmanes. The alcohol had dulled her inhibitions, allowing her to fully embrace the moment. It had been so long since she felt this free, since she allowed herself to let go of her fears and embrace the joy of the present.

"I think, they're wonderful." she said with a radiant smile, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.. "I needed this, Tal. I needed to know that I can still be accepted in this world. That I can be more."

Her eyes, though softened by how pleasantly drunk she felt, held a glimmer of determination and a spark of something deeper. As content as she felt here, the day had also stirred something else within her. A tempestuous rage at the injustices that had been done to her, a deep anger that had long been buried beneath layers of fear and despair.

She felt vengeful, powerful by Talmanes' side. She had never felt powerful in her life.

She lifted her head to look into his eyes, her expression a mixture of fierce determination and newfound hope. "I want to fight, Tal. For us, for our people, for the future we deserve. I want to tear down the old and build something new, something better. I want to help you." she said, her fingers gently tracing his jaw. "You just have to show me how."

 

[Tal]

The smile lingered on Talmanes' lips. His hand gently shifting as he swirled the slip of liquid still lingering within his cup. An index finger slowly drawing around the rim, listening to the heat pouring through Trista's voice.

A spark he had igniting, having turned to a flame. "You've already helped me."

He said softly, a hand slowly drawing forward as he pulled back the cuff of his shirt. Slowly revealing the mar upon his arm. The deep scars clashing like lightning against his flesh, drawing up his forearm and stopping just short of his elbow.

"But my talents aren't the same as yours." The Prince admitted. "My magic does not come from the Blood."

A flicker of shame touched his voice as he spoke those words. "It is my own. A gift that I was born with by happenstance and nothing more."

Golden eyes drew towards her. His magic not a reflection of their people, but a simple mark of his birth. How he had come by it, Talmanes did not know, but he knew the gifts of his people only as well as any layman. He was no master of the Blood, even if he knew many of it's rituals.

"I can teach you to survive. I can teach you where to slip a knife." Talmanes said as he looked at her. "But, your true power is better taught to you by someone else."

The Prince said, as though he already had someone in mind.

 

[Trista]

Trista's gaze remained fixed on the scars that marred Talmanes' arm as he spoke, her fingertips gently tracing the jagged lines. The touch was delicate, reverent, as if she was trying to understand the pain and the journey that had led him to this moment. The flicker of shame in his voice tugged at her heart, but it only made her determination stronger.

Her golden eyes met his, the flames of a nearby torch reflecting in their depths, igniting a fierce resolve. "Teach me." she said, her voice steady and filled with determination. "I want to learn everything. I never want to feel helpless again."

"But first," she whispered, her voice softening as she took his cup from his hand and set it down. Her hands found his, fingers intertwining as she gently pulled him closer.

"Take me to bed," she murmured, a quiet plea that held more than just desire.

 

[Tal]

"I want to learn everything. I never want to feel helpless again."​

"You won't." Talmanes breathed, the cup in his palm claimed as the words slipped from his lips. Golden eyes catching hers as she slowly drew her fingers between his, Trista's breath offering a quiet plea that no man could have resisted.

Without a single word, the Prince slowly pulled her close.

Marred and muscled arms drew slowly around Trista's form. His hands sailing softly across her skin as he pulled her off the small bench they sat upon and drew her into himself. Talmanes lifting her from the perch they had found themselves upon. Only then did he whisper his reply. "To bed."

He agreed quiet, his breath hot on her skin.

"Or." Talmanes continued. "Just right here."

The Prince said, a jealous touch drawing over her skin as he began to tear the clothing from her skin. Making his own demands known.

 

[Trista]

Trista's breath hitched as Talmanes' hands roved over her and pulled at her dress, his touch igniting a fire within her that could not be ignored. His suggestion, whispered so close to her skin, sent a shudder of thrill down her spine. She glanced around, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson at the thought of being so exposed, but the intensity of his gaze and the fervour of his kisses quickly melted her reservations.

The Prince's unabashed desire, the way he looked at her—all of it made her realise how much she craved this moment, how much she wanted to let go and be consumed by him. There was a power in his presence, a command that she found impossible to resist.

"Yes.." she breathed, her voice trembling with anticipation and need. She pulled him closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she dragged him to her. The world around them mattered little.

"This will do just fine." she whispered, her lips claiming his as they gave in to their desires.

 

[Tal]

----​

In the small hours of the morning, as the barest hints of sunlight speckled into the cavern, Talmanes carried Trista to bed as she slept within his arms.

Gently he placed her upon one of the feathered mats within the dug out homes of their Wyld Cousins. A small fire already flickering within the hearth to keep the chill of the cool stone at bay. He wrapped her within the soft comfort of a blanket, his fingers threading over her skin one last time as he smiled. Golden eyes showing no hint of the exhaustion which had clung to him for so long. For a moment he lingered there at her side, threading his digits gently through her once more crimson hair. Admiration and pride flickering over his features as he slowly withdrew and left her to rest.

A gentle breeze swept through the cavern as The Prince stepped outside. His eyes closing and his head tilting upward as he listened to the silent wind. His bare torso feeling the roll of goosebumps as the chilly morning washed over him.

"How long were you waiting?" Talmanes asked the cool night. A voice answering him only after a few steady beats of the heart, the sound like a rumbling mountain.

"Only when I saw you carry her inside." Volstus answered from within the dark. "Your brethren tore me away with drink and dance long before the sun rose."

The prince stayed quiet as the ogre approached, his steps echoing within the cavern ledge. "Is this what you wanted? To bring her here? Manipulate her into following you?"

Talmanes frowned, his eyes folding open as he looked to his old friend.

"I did no such thing. Trista chose her own path, I simply show-" Before he could finish, Talmanes suddenly found himself swept from his feet. The Ogre's massive hand wrapping around his upper torso and lifting him from ground and shoving him against the wall as though he were nothing but a child.

"Tell the truth!" The ogre bellow. "For once in your life."

 

[Trista]

She could not remember a better day than today, and she had been reluctant for it to end, though there was little she could do to stop her eyes from drifting closed when they did. The journey had been exhausting in so many ways. This night, more pleasantly so.

She might have stayed awake had she not heard the booming voice outside the little home she had been left to rest in. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she sat up to listen..

 

[Tal]

The press of the Ogre's palm was suffocating. Pushing Into Talmanes' chest and pressing him against the bare rock behind him. The prince could feel his skin shredding against the stone, steaks or hot blood beginning to slowly drop down over his flesh. His hands rose, grasping at Volstus' hand but finding the Ogre's grip to be like a vice.

"Le-let..." Talmanes struggled to breath, much less speak. His voice a bare rasp as his eyes rose to meet Volstus'. "Go."

The word was a struggle, but the Ogre did not let up. Instead he took a single step forward, his face slowly shifting to be a mere inch from Talmanes'. Anger, suspicion, and an utter lack of patience presented all at once. "Speak the truth."

Volstus' voice rumbled, a whisper loud enough to echo into the hovel Trista lay within.

"Did yo-" Before he could finish, a massive red spark suddenly lashed out from Talmanes' hands. Crimson lightning spark from the Princes' palms and lanced I to the Ogre. Coursing through the giants form and lashing to the ground as he let out a bellow of pain. His hand instantly whipping back from Talmanes', steps faltering as his muscles seized and he went tumbling to the ground. Smoke rising from his flesh, chest falling and rising as his heart thundered from the electricity that had been sent rushing through him.

Talmanes tumbled to the ground, landing as he took a gasping desperate breath. Blood dripping down his back, as slowly he stood. Swaying on his feet, sparks of crimson lightning still flickering over his arms.

Slowly he stepped up to where the Ogre lay, the giant groaning as his head turned to face his friend.

"I've never lied to any of you." The Prince said, bitterness biting into his voice. "Not you, not Trista, not these people or even Calliope."

His fingers closed into a fist. "I keep my secrets, because you don't deserve to know. Because you'd stand in my way."

Anger flickered through his tone as the lighting finally ceased its incessant flickering.

"Just like the rest of them." He spat. "Go back to Tyr, Volstus"

Talmanes theatened as he slowly turned, walking away down the long ramp of the ancient cavern. "Go back and tell them the Rains are coming, and I'm coming with them."

 

[Trista]

As the crimson light flooded the little room, Trista threw off her blanket and rushed to the carved doorway, her heart pounding in her chest. Peering around the corner, her golden eyes widened at the sight of Talmanes, blood-soaked and swaying, and Volstus, his flesh smoking as he lay prone on the ground.

She suppressed the urge to run to Talmanes, her concern for his anger overshadowed her worry for his wounds. The raw power he had unleashed, the fury he clearly felt — she would not dare step in his way. As the Prince turned and walked away, his bitter words echoing in the cavern, Trista stepped out, her bare feet silent against the cold stone. She made her way to Volstus, dropping down next to him, her eyes narrowing at the sight of his burned flesh.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, her voice a mix of anger and concern. Her fingers gently traced the charred skin, trying to assess the damage without causing him further pain.

 

[Tal]

Volstus seemed to shudder slightly as Trista ran her hands over him. A forking scar of lightning now decorated his flesh, permanently seared into his skin along his arms. Pain lanced from the wounds even at the slightest touch, though it would be obvious to the healer that Talmanes could have done far worse.

As Trista leaned over him, The ogre took a deep shuddering breath. Doing his best to steady the thrum of his heart. "B-because..."

He rattled quietly, shifting upon the ground as he gently placed a palm upon the ground and attempted to push himself up to a sitting position. The pain lancing through his features as he struggled, though managing to rise so he was at least not laying upon the earth.

"Talmanes has changed." Volstus breathed, something of sadness to his tone. "He is not the man I once knew. There is something..."

A frown touched his lips as the Ogre looked down at Trista, as if he were wondering if she would even hear his words. "There is something dark within him."

He whispered finally.

"I worry that darkness has taken my friend." Volstus continued. "I worry he has now taken you."

For a moment he paused, as if struggling to express his thoughts. "I worry he'll take us all."

 

[Trista]

Trista's expression softened into a concerned frown at his worry. "No... It isn't darkness, Volstus. It's fire, it's light." She shook her head, reaching to settle her hand on his cheek. "Going through what he has, changes a person, but he wants what is best for Tyr. He hasn't taken me; he freed me, Volstus. I won't turn my back on him when he's already given me so much." She sighed, her voice tender but resolute.

"Let me make you a salve for those wounds." Trista's tone shifted to one of gentle care as she looked over his burns, her mind already working through the herbs and mixtures she would need.

 

[Tal]

The Ogre stared at her, concern and perhaps a touch of pity flickering through his eyes.

For a moment it seemed as though he wanted to argue. But he could see there was no winning no matter what he said. The steel within her voice, the determination in her eyea. Volstus could see that what Talmanes had said and done set roots which couldn't be dug out. Even if his concerns were valid, Trista would not see it.

In a way, that fact was more painful than the wounds now marked within his flesh.

A long sigh drifted from the Ogre's lips, but he did not protest against Trista's aid. "Thank you."

The Great Ogre rumbled quietly. Staying quiet for a moment as Trista disappeared into the cavern and began to dig out what she would need for her poultice. Staying sat just outside, staring into the great void beyond the caverns the Wild Tyrians had dug out from the stone. Lost within his thoughts until finally she returned.

"He told you then?" Volstus asked softly a she began to treat his wounds. "Of the Rains?"

Tonight was the first he'd heard of Talmanes' plan, but like everyone who lived in Tyr he knew what the Rains meant. Though the Ogre's had come only later, the tales of what their Tyrian cousins had gone through on their pilgrimage were told often at feasts and fire-light.

 

[Trista]

Trista nodded as she returned, grinding together a thick, green paste that would soothe his wounds and prevent infection. "Yes, he told me." Her eyes flicked to his as she knelt beside him again, and gently started applying the salve that would instantly cool the seared flesh.

"He has told me many things. I know that your trust in him has been shaken, but you will see when the rains come." She nodded and sighed. "You are dear to him, Volstus. And to me. I hope you can both set this right. He needs you now more than ever." she sighed.

 

[Tal]

Every word she spoke further cemented his thoughts.

Even as the little healer set about her work, healing the damage his old friend had done, he could hear and see the loyalty within her. There was no question that the Prince had dug in his claws, and right or wrong Trista no longer held any doubt.

Doubt that now plagued him. "No."

The ogre said softly. His head shaking as he winced, Trista's hands gently applying the cold salve.

"I do not think he does." He offered softly. Hesitating for a moment before he reached up and gently grasped Trista's hand. His palm encircling hers, touch surprisingly gently as he dwarfed her fingers with his own. "I do not know if he is right, my mind is filled with nothing but doubts and suspicion."

There was pain in that admission, but for Volstus there were still too many questions. Many of which he knew would not receive an answer to. They plagued him, and every night he went to sleep with the same wonderings; Why was the Prince doing all this? What would he sacrifice to get what he wanted? Where would he take Tyr, their people? And most of all; What had Talmanes done to Calliope?

Those thoughts plagued him, and with every step, they only grew heavier. "I will leave for Tyr tomorrow."

Volstus said softly, his fingers squeezing Trista's ever so gently.

"You have a good heart." The Ogre said softly. "You have deserved the freedom he's given you for a long time, and if nothing else, I am glad he did that alone."

For a moment he hesitated, as if unsure if he wanted to grant her the burden of his next words. "Look after him."

He said, another squeeze of her palm. "Because I cannot any longer."

 

[Trista]

Trista's hands stilled as Volstus spoke, his gentle grip on her fingers grounding her in the moment. She could feel the weight of his words, the depth of his doubts, and the pain of his conflicting emotions. Her heart ached for him, for the struggle he was enduring, and for the rift that had formed between him and Talmanes.

"Please.." she whispered, her voice barely audible as she met his gaze. "Don't give up on him, Volstus. Not now."

Her eyes searched his, pleading for him to understand. "All he needs is loyalty. He needs you to challenge him, to keep him grounded, to remind him of who he is and what he's fighting for. He needs you to believe in him."

She took a deep breath, her voice steadying as she continued. "I will look after him. I will stand by his side, fight for him, and support him in every way I can. But you're dear to him, Volstus. And to me." she said, her voice softening as a hint of vulnerability crept in.

Trista's grip tightened on his hand, her resolve unwavering. "I don't want you to leave. He doesn't either, not really.. But I cannot stop you if that is your choice." she frowned and returned her attention to applying the rest of the salve, her touch gentle and caring.

"I should go find him."

 

[Tal]

For a long moment, Volstus stayed quiet. There was pain in his eyes as Trista spoke. As the words of wisdom, the truth she offered him, filtered through her lips. It was clear that the Ogre wanted her to be right, wanted his friend to be the man that she swore he was.

But he couldn't believe it.

A thousand questions still remained, and no answers were forthcoming. The man whom he'd once called brother now saw him as an interloper. It was the anguish of that thought which brought Volstus so much pain.

He had been so glad when Talmanes returned, when they saw each other once more. He'd known his friend had changed, and yet, he'd not seen the darkness then. The slow creeping abyss which seemed to spread from the Prince like a plague.

A disease that had now caught Trista in it's wake.

For a moment more the Ogre stayed quiet, a slow breath drawing into his lungs as Trista pressed the final bits of the salve upon the strange wounds left upon his flesh. A slow melancholy filling him as she drew her palm away and her words settled in his mind. "He no longer trusts me, Trista, if he ever did at all."

Volstus said, despair in his tone.

"Find him, and stay at his side." The Ogre continued. Lips pressing to a thin line. "I will do as he asked of me, one last time. I will Herald him and the rains."

Discomfort echoed through the rumble of his voice as he spoke, but from the determination in his eyes it was clear he was doing this for the Prince. Not in spite of him. "And then...then I will wait to see if they come."

His breath swept from his lungs, enough to rustle Trista's hair. "Go to him, and thank you for all you've done, and all you will do yet."

 

[Trista]

Trista's heart ached at the despair in Volstus' voice. She could see the pain etched into his features, the conflict tearing at him. She knew that convincing him fully was a battle she might not win tonight, but she couldn't give up on either of them.

"Trust is something that can be rebuilt. It's not too late. You've been through so much together, and that bond doesn't just disappear. He needs time, and maybe he needs to see that you're still there for him, even when things are difficult."

Her fingers lingered on his for a moment, offering a squeeze of reassurance. "I will find him. I will stay by his side. But know this—you are still his brother, even if he doesn't show it right now. And you are my friend, too." she reminded.

She took a deep breath and sighed as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek before she rose to her feet. As she turned to leave, she cast one last look over her shoulder. "Remember, we are stronger together. Don't lose hope... I, assume she will already know, but when you see Calliope, tell her that I failed her." she said, but she would not offer the Princess apology, for she was not sorry.

With that, Trista walked away, her steps purposeful as she made her way through the cavern, its pathways twisting and turning as she followed the droplets of blood on the floor.

 

[Tal]

The Ogre smiled, though said nothing more as Trista stood and began to walk away. Watching as she followed the trail of Blood.

Crimson speckles lead her like a trail of breadcrumbs. At first moving across the narrow pathways that wound around the outside the great Hold, then eventually beginning to climb a set of stairs. As Trista followed Talmanes' path, she would step by great carved murals set into the very stone themselves. Depictions of the pilgrimage their ancestors had once taken, portraits of their people as they had been then.

As she reached the top of the steps, she would find a cavern. It's floor carved with deep trenches, each filled with a water red as blood. Steadily it flowed, marking a pattern within the ground, the ancient symbol their people had once worn.

At the very end of the cavern stood the Prince, his head tilted up as he stared at up at the wall.

Upon it lay a likeness of the great city of their people.

Not Tyr, the refuge they had found, but the home they had left behind. It stood, almost as a grander facsimile of the city they knew, but instead of three towers there lay only one. Yet before the great spire which seemed to scrape the very sky, lay dozens upon dozens of intricately depicted and beautifully built structures.

A sprawling metropolis filled with the natural light of Sheketh. Thousands of Canals sprawling through every street. It was as though Tyr was an echo of this city, built by the memory of those who managed to survive the great Exodus.

Tal stood, staring, blood still dripping from his back and onto the sacred floor. Slowly joining the tides carved into the floor.

 

[Trista]

Trista followed the trail of blood with a growing sense of urgency. As she climbed the steps, the sound of her footsteps echoed softly against the stone. The carvings became more intricate, more vivid, as if the very essence of their history was etched into the walls. Finally, she reached the top and stepped into a cavern unlike any she had seen before.

The floor was a marvel, the flowing crimson liquid forming a powerful representation of their heritage. Her eyes followed the pattern, drawn to the end of the cavern where Talmanes stood with his bleeding back to her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her, of the detailed depiction of a once great city, stopped forever in time. But, her gaze quickly shifted to Talmanes, the blood dripping from his back, mingling with the sacred water on the floor. The sight of him, wounded and alone, struck her deeply. She moved towards him, her steps soft but purposeful.

"Talmanes." she whispered as she reached him, the concern clear in her voice. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Let me tend your wounds, please." she asked softly.

 

[Tal]

Talmanes did not turn as Trista spoke, still staring up at the wall.

"They don't know what it looks like." He said softly. "Back in Tyr."

His words echoed through the hall, the Prince standing firm as Trista's hand gently slipped upon his skin. Talmanes' gaze fixed upon the tower standing tall within the center of the mosaic. "When they began to build, they knew, but a generation was all it took..."

The Prince said quietly, his eyes slowly pulling away from the ancient mural and falling onto his new truth.

"All that it took to forget." He breathed softly. His head shaking ever so slightly. "How can I convince them, Trista?"

Talmanes asked. "How can I convince them when even my friends betray me?"

His jaw set, as if he bit his next words.

"Will I have to break them?" There was a soft pleading to his tone, a dread. "I do not want to."

As he spoke, Talmanes slowly reached up, turning to face her as his palm came up to gently cup her cheek. The tips of his fingers threading into her hair. "But I will, if that's what it takes."

He was a monster to so many already. What was a few thousand more?

 

[Trista]

Trista's heart ached at Talmanes' words, at the pain and determination she heard in his voice. She gently held his hand against her cheek, grounding them both in the moment, her golden eyes softening as she looked up at him. She could feel the weight of his burden, the immense responsibility he had taken upon himself.

"Talmanes.." she whispered, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within her. "You don't have to carry this alone."

"I understand your fear. The thought of our people forgetting, of losing the vision of what we once had. My father shared those visions. But we have to remind them."

Her hand free hand settled on his cheek, her fingers gently traced the lines of his face, "Your strength is not just in your power, Talmanes. It's in your vision, your passion, your love for our people. They need to see that. They need to see you as more than a warrior, more than a leader. They need to see the heart that beats for them."

She took a deep breath, drawing closer. "We need to inspire them, to ignite the same fire within them that burns in us."

"But.. If they are so lost.." she paused, searching his eyes. "Tal, you will never be a monster for wanting to bring our people back to greatness. Sometimes, for new life to grow and thrive, the old must be burned away. How can you be a monster if what you must do is for the greater good of our people?" she frowned. "Volstus loves you, but he is not Tyrian blood, he cannot understand fully what you must do. What we must do."

Trista leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, hoping to convey all the love and support she felt for him. "And we must do whatever it takes.." she whispered.

 

[Tal]

As she pressed his lips against his, Talmanes could not help but wonder if she would always feel that way. There was no doubt in his mind now that he could trust her. No doubt that she would walk with him as far as they had to go.

Yet he feared where that road would lead them.

Lead him.

He had done horribly things, terrible things in the name of his goals already, and he knew there would be more. Talmanes was terrified of what was yet to come, of the blood he would have to spill, of the fights that he would have to take on.

But every word Trista whispered was right.

He did not have to do it alone. Not anymore. She would stand at his side in Tyr just as Tigris had in the wilds. He was not alone, not entirely. Slowly his hands reached up, the same palms that had marred his friend wrapping slowly around Trista's fingers. "We will."

The Prince said in soft agreement.

"Whatever it takes." Talmanes agreed, pressing his lips to hers. Bloody speckles still falling to the floor from his back, the gentle pool forming beneath their feet slowly dripping into the rivers of red which coursed around them.

A soft glow beginning to draw from within the crimson rivers.

 

[Trista]

She felt a dizzying sense of pride as he listened to her. Agreed with her. Took her hands and kissed her.

This journey had not been at all what she had expected; it had brought her far more than freedom. She had found someone she could trust, someone who saw her as something of importance, someone worthy of a Prince's affection, and she would spend every day loving him for it.

The warm light emanating from the crimson rivers caught her attention, drawing her gaze to the intricate floor. Her head tilted slightly as she took in the scene. "It's really beautiful," she commented, her voice filled with wonder. What should have been garish and grim instead appeared to her as something sacred and magnificent. Her eyes roved over the walls, taking in the depiction of the city her ancestors had known, and she smiled, feeling an immense sense of belonging.

Not just here, she realised, but with him. Wherever he was, was where she belonged.

She tugged gently at his hand, urging him to sit upon the smooth rock close by. "Let me tend to your wounds," she said softly, concern threading through her voice. "We have a long road ahead, and you need to be strong."

 

[Tal]

Basking within the soft glow, Talmanes nodded his head in acceptance. Slowly lowering himself onto the floor, legs crossing as he allowed Trista to to treat his wounds. She was right again, the road ahead was long, and it would begin again tomorrow.


"Father." Talmanes stepped into the small cavernous home of the Chief. The the chamber containing only a heart, connected to hundreds of others, a small stone bed, and then a table that Saen himself had carved once ago.

Once upon a time the old man had occupied a much larger apartment, but it was a space he had long ago ceded to families who needed it more. His daughter grown, and his beloved past, the old man had not needed much space. "It is time we speak."

The Prince said as he stepped inside, the patter of two more sets of feet following quickly behind him.