Private Tales In the Pursuit of Power

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"A wonderful idea," said Khorvayne, unbothered, and without delay sauntering over toward Kristen's horse.

Kristen, however, was bothered. She had a difficult time in that moment trying to determine which was actually worse, Khorvayne riding with Dauner or Khorvayne riding with her. She just had to make the concession that both situations were simply conditions to be endured. What misgivings she had about the sorceress would have to wait, for the matter of Titus took precedent.

Still, she was by no means obligated to enjoy it.

Kristen mounted her horse a single swift motion, her practice at this paying off splendidly now.

"May you move your foot?"

"Why?"

"So that I may use the stirrup to mount, dear."

Kristen grudgingly allowed for it, staring forward. She felt Khorvayne swing up and sit down on the saddle bag behind her, the warmth of her body (surprising, Kristen would have thought her to be as cold as her pale skin suggested) against her back.

"Would you prefer my hands on shoulders? Or about your waist?"

"Make your comfortable. By all means." It wasn't often that Kristen employed sarcasm, but this was one of these rare occasions.

"Now that is a lovely invitation," Khorvayne said, delighted.

"I would not read too much into it."

Then Kristen took the reins and spurred her horse forward, coming up alongside Dauner, and together set out for an appropriate site to camp.

All along the way, little back and forths between Kristen and Khorvayne, to the former's annoyance and to the latter's amusement.

Dauner
 
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It would be a lie to say that Dauner didn't have some regret about not taking up Khorvayne's offer. But this was made up for, mostly, by the amusement from watching the two ladies bicker. Kristen, however, didn't seem to be very amused by this.

They didn't have to ride too long to find an appropriate place to rest. They found a clearing about a quarter of an hour after setting off, and Dauner decided it was a nice place to rest. All they were lacking now was a fire, and they could relax for the rest of the night.

"This place looks just about right! You girls should make yourselves comfortable while I make a fire" he said.

Pouncing directly from his horse into a nearby tree, Dauner cut off some branches that could be used to make a fire, and when he had enough, he jumped back down. After putting down the wood, he ignited it with a gush of flames from his hand.

As for sleeping equipment, Dauner had nothing of the sort. For one, he never needed them. However, even if Kristen didn't have any either, she still had his jacket, which did its job keeping her warm. He was only going to ask for it the next morning anyway.

"You should rest up. It's a long ride to Ashol, and we'll need to make haste" he said to Kristen. "I hope you don't mind waiting just a little longer" he asked Khorvayne. "I'll be back in a jiffy" he added, before turning to the horses and tending to them.
 
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A clearing far away from Coogan's Depths would be where they would rest for the night. Or, rather, Kristen would rest. For Dauner it seemed rest was less of a necessity (another of his mysteries) and for Khorvayne...well, Kristen wasn't so keen on pondering the details concerning her.

"A long ride that will make for plenty of time to strategize," Kristen said, dismounting from her horse.

Khorvayne slid off next. And to Dauner she said pleasantly, "I have alllll~ the time in the world."

Dauner already had the campfire set, so Kristen set down her pack and took from her horse the rolled up tent canvas. It didn't take her long to acquire a fallen branch and clean it up with her utility hatchet and get the tent propped up. This was one of the things she found to be quite enjoyable about her new life as an Initiate: attending to these matters of basic travel and survival with a degree self-sufficiency. Living in splendor and luxury as a noble of a Great House in Vel Anir was, to be perfectly honest, eminently comfortable, but it was only after stepping out of such unrelenting comfort that she could know a kind of satisfaction which would have forever eluded her otherwise.

"What is that drives you?" Khorvayne asked. She had taken a seat by the fire Dauner made, reclining back on what looked like a small, puffy cloud of black fog.

"I don't suppose you're meaning to entertain my life's story," Kristen said, making the final adjustments to the set up of the tent.

"I love entertaining everyone's story. We're all so very different and interesting in who we are...in how we became that way."

"Well, to answer your question in a word—if you must know—it is piety that drives me."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It is the font from which all else is derived. 'Tis a shame that my homeland of Vel Anir by and large spurns religion, when it has for me done so much good."

"That's quite striking," Khorvayne said. "For it is so that I, too, have a keen interest in gods."

Kristen finished securing the tent. Now if only Dauner could spare her from more small talk with the sorceress.

Dauner
 
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As Dauner finished settling the horses, providing them with food and water, he turned back to the two ladies, having overheard the entirety of the conversation. When Khorvayne made a remark about her interest in gods, Dauner chimed in as well.

"How peculiar! So do I" he said, taking a seat by the fire.

Dauner was a man whose driving goal was to ascend to godhood, and so, as much as he hated most gods, he still had a peculiar interest in them. It was in this way that he had first established his existential principles, and also in this way that he hopes to upgrade them into existential concepts, which was the minimum requirement for godhood, apparently. But he was still a long way from achieving that, especially with the injury he was carrying with him right now.

"Sounds like you're having an interesting conversation. Mind if I join in?" he asked.
 
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"Certainly." "Of course."

Both Khorvayne and Kristen had spoken at the same time, and then both of them looked at one another, the former smiling and the latter (through effort) keeping a level gaze.

Kristen was the first to speak, and she did so generally, having already told Dauner of much of this, "In Celestialism do I place my faith; the Celestial Pantheon provides six divine examples to model one's life after, and though I hold reverence for them all, the tenets of guardianship, noble duty, and perseverance exemplified by Aionus the Holy Sentinel resonate most powerfully with me."

"Have you ever spoken with him?"

"What?"

"With Aionus. Have you ever communed with him directly?"

"Well...no. There can only be one Voice of Aionus—if any. In fact, there has only ever been one in recorded history for Aionus. A second has never been canonized."

"Quite silent then, this Sentinel of yours."

Kristen pursed her lips, but said nothing.

Khorvayne looked to Dauner. "May I ask what your interest in gods happens to be? Are you, too, of the Celestialist persuasion?"

Dauner
 
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Listening to Khorvayne question Kristen, Dauner noticed a hint of doubt. Or was it disagreement with Khorvayne's statement? What was sure, however, was that Kristen seemed at a loss for words to reply with. Then Khorvayne turned to Dauner with inquiry as to what interests he had in gods.

Dauner would hardly ever openly admit that what drove him was the desire to ascend to godhood, becoming a demon god. He could drop hints about this in his speech and actions, but wouldn't outright admit it, unless it was necessary. However, his previous entanglements with gods weren't something he had any reason to keep secret.

"I don't really like gods" he said. What he had wanted to say was "I hate gods", but in consideration for Kristen's presence, and her overall affinity and attitude towards divinity, he settled for a tamer sentence.

"But for the longest of times, I have had... rather poor relations with the gods on Segora. They had their believers try to kill me more times than I can count. Most likely because I tried to destroy the existence of one of the gods in the pantheon" he said. "Well, let's just say They've tried to kill me, and I've tried to kill them before. And we'll probably get back to it as soon as I get back there" he finished

"Now's your turn" he said, turning to Khorvayne.
 
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Kristen was mildly upset by Dauner's response: I don't really like gods. It was difficult for her not to be; yet, on the other hand, the mildness of her being upset came readily, for she was quite used to people not being pious—such was the character of her homeland Vel Anir, after all.

This perturbation, however, was quickly overthrown by all that he said next, and Kristen was left both baffled and astonished. He...not only did he actually speak with a deity before, he...he actually fought with one? It was one thing to fight the Spawn of Dark Ones as they were now; quite another, Kristen could only imagine, to face Merke or Abbon or Therg in battle. How would one even begin to go about doing such a thing? And to speak of it so casually, goodness!

While Kristen was left blinking, Khorvayne looked pleasantly surprised, her brows rising approvingly.

"Impressive," she said, finding in Dauner's tone a quality of truthfulness that diminished, in her estimation, the chance that he might be boasting. "And we share some common pursuits, so it would seem."

"What, have you communed directly with gods too?" Kristen said, then immediately looked a bit sheepish. Saying it out loud like that...well...somehow she felt entirely "left out," if such an emotion could even make sense in this grand context. She prayed everyday, devoted herself to Aionus, was reverent of the Celestial Pantheon, and yet, out of the three of them, she was the only one who heard naught but silence. She almost questioned then whether her magic truly was Divine or if she were merely a Conjurer, conjuring things shaped to her fascinations.

Khorvayne slid Kristen a sly smirk. "For those who look long enough, a great many things may be glimpsed beyond our mortal veil. And for those who listen closely, a great many divine voices can be heard beyond the firmament of Arethil."

"So what do you want then, as it pertains to gods, for all your talk of desire and such? Forgive me if I am too forward," this politeness was a bit forced, "but you do not seem to be the reverent type."

"Be as forward as you like. Why limit yourself? Especially when you are correct." And then back to Dauner, she said, "Perhaps you feel akin to myself, perhaps you've other things in mind."

She smiled radiantly.

"But I am, as I have said, a seeker of knowledge. And as it happens, the constraints of mortality I find to be...loathsome. I am interested in, shall we say, expanding my horizons."

Kristen frowned. The sorceress seemed wedded to speaking almost exclusively in implications.

Dauner
 
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"You don't have to feel pressured about it" Dauner said, trying to get Kristen to let go of her worries. "You've only been at it for barely a decade. Eventually you'll learn to hear them too. It took several hundreds of years after declaring war on the church, and an attempt to destroy a god's existence, before one of decided to speak with me. As a faithful, I imagine it might take you much less time than it did me" he finished, not wanting to add that he was already in his twelfth millennia when that happened. But then again, his talent was always the poorest from among all those he knew, which explained why it took him so long to reach such a level.

Listening to Khorvayne, Dauner could make out what she said to mean what she sought was an ascension to immortality, so she could better carry out her pursuit of knowledge. A worthwhile goal indeed. One not too different from his. For no matter how long lived he was, or how long he had yet to live, he too was still mortal, and becoming immortal was one of the prerequisites to accension to godhood.

"Our interests do seem mutual indeed. Feel free to drop by my castle at a later date so we can further... discus this" he said, smiling radiantly.
 
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Dauner's encouragement was nice—even if his path was one quite different to her own. She still could not even wrap her head around the idea of trying to destroy a god. Kristen was very much stuck on Arethil, worried more so about bandits and Desecrators, savage raiding orcs and lawless marauding pirates, enemy soldiers and Fellowship elves.

Maybe he was right, though. She was entertaining the idea of becoming a priestess of Celestialism. Carrying on her faith through good times and hard times, stoking it to burn all the brighter with each step forward in the path of her life, mayhap she could make herself worthy. One day.

All this was hidden behind the warm smile she shared with Dauner, there across the campfire.

"Thank you for your confidence, Dauner," she said, standing then and retreating into her small travel tent, saying further as she went, "I will get what rest I can, such that we may get an early start toward Ashol."

"Sweet dreams," Khorvayne said. And to that Kristen did not deign to respond, lying down on her bedroll and making her first attempt to sleep.

Then Dauner spoke to Khorvayne, and at this she was indulgently receptive.

"I do love to visit friends from time to time." She made a small gesture of concession with a tilt of her head and added, "Well...the worthwhile ones."

Lounging back luxuriously on the puffy cloud of black fog which supported her, Khorvayne entwined her hands and laid them to rest on her stomach, segueing seamlessly into the topic at hand: "Which brings us neatly to Titus, a friend who has in truth disposed of himself, what with that colossal ego and arrogance of his. I would not have minded these...yet he saw fit to turn on me."

She wasn't upset at all. She even laughed about it, softly and elegantly. It seemed that Khorvayne maintained a laissez-faire approach to life. It is what it is, we are who we are.

"Ask me of him, and I shall tell what you wish to know."

Dauner
 
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Now that was unexpected. Dauner could not have guessed that the reason behind Khorvayne's aid was vengeance. Betrayal was always ugly, and to many, it left a scar that would plague them forever. Dauner, who very rarely trusted others back in his time as patriarch and overlord of demonkind on Segora, was even less likely to trust in anyone now, considering it was the few he had trusted in that had stabbed him in the back. Till this moment, 7000 years after the deed, he still held regret over having let something like that happen. If only he had trusted less, he would sometimes tell himself. But alas, it was all past now.

Khorvayne on the other hand didn't seem to be too bothered by her friend turning on her. Perhaps it was because she had expected such a thing. Or because she hadn't placed such trust in him that it would give her pause that he broke it. Or maybe she was just not one to lose her hair over such. There was no way to know for certain. But as they say, curiosity killed the cat, and Dauner was like a cat in that respect. Good thing cats also had nine lives.

"Would you be inclined to sharing with the story behind why and how this Titus turned on you?" he would inquire.
 
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"Of course," Khorvayne said, and with a small cascade of waving fingers bade the black fog she was perched upon to sit her up some.

"I am known in certain circles. Through midnight whispers do I and those of my ilk keep in touch with each other's doings. Sometimes I choose to associate with other practitioners, and sometimes I do not—it depends on whether my interest is piqued. In this way did I come to associate with Titus and his cult in Alliria. Why, I wanted to see if he could find success in his endeavor, and what that success would truly look like."

She elegantly swung a hand and left her open palm to gaze up the night sky.

"I did learn some things. I learned that Titus is a rigid perfectionist, unaccustomed to failure. And why should he be? He was, in truth, a personage who hitherto knew nothing but accomplishment in his practice of the dark arts. Yet, to err and to suffer setbacks is an inevitability; how one recovers is key."

She swung that same hand around to her chest, tenting her fingers just above her heart.

"I myself have erred, have suffered setbacks, but such is the way in the pursuit of knowledge, especially so in distilling the finer secrets of the world and beyond. And so I right myself when it occurs. Of what use are emotions which do not feed your desires? Oh, have I tuned myself to become...hungrier...even in the wake of failure."

Khorvayne made a dismissive gesture, like flinging away some small detritus found on a garment.

"Titus has allowed himself to become consumed by vanity." She laughed lightly. "A dangerous jewel, that." And continued, "After the cult's destruction in Alliria, Titus became convinced that he was surrounded by imbeciles who could do nothing right; that he would have to do everything himself if he wanted to see the fruits of the labor upon Arethil. Those few cult members who survived, like Naya, he segregated away and gave them pointless busy work. Those few like myself, the loosely associated shall we say, he simply cast off...after no shortage of ranting and raving, that is."

She smiled and shrugged languidly.

"He wished it to be this way, not me. Oh...so be it then. This would not mark the first time someone scorned me, nor will it be the last. But his rage blinded his memory, for I knew, even without my spells of far sight, all the little details of his work...like his dwelling in Ashol." Khorvayne touched a sly finger to the corner of her mouth, and gazed at Dauner through half-lidded eyes. "And I will continue to satiate my desires...with...or without him."

Dauner
 
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Dauner greatly agreed with Khorvayne on the issue of erring and rising again from whence you once fell. It was an important truth, all who bore the burden of a higher purpose, one above the perception of mortal man, needed to learn, accept and embrace. For the path threaded by such beings is often perilous, and should they fail to learn the importance of perseverance, even in failure, they are bound to trip, make mistakes. Sometimes, not only disastrous to their goals, but also deadly, as their lives would be put on the line.

When Khorvayne mentioned the immediate reason that caused Titus to push her aside, it occurred to Dauner that he was the cause. Had he not uprooted the cult from Alliria, Titus's plans would have continued as originally intended and Khorvayne would have never been turned away.

Dauner however did not regret a single thing. Instead, he felt much happier that he'd taken them out. Had he not done so, Khorvayne would still be working with Titus, and he'd never have met her! Back then, the only reason he dealt with the cult was because the beautiful doctor he was working with had a strong drive to make them pay for their sacrificing of innocent kids in their dark rituals. Never would he imagined that it would also lead him to make the acquaintance of yet another beautiful lady, and this time, one much closer to his circumstances than any he'd ever met since arriving on Arethil.

The last sentence just felt like the icing on the cake. If he didn't know better, Dauner would think she was trying to seduce him, and it was working.

"It seems like I bear a portion of the responsibility for your estrangement. How would I ever be able to make it up to you?" he asked, looking her in the eyes, with a flirtatious tone in his voice, and a matching smile to go with it. "Pray tell"
 
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Khorvayne looked delighted to be asked such a question, leaning forward ever so slightly from her conjured seat of puffy black fog, engaged.

And she replied in a husky pitch, "The same as if you bore no such portion of responsibility at all: follow your desires...always...and embrace wherever they may lead you."

Kristen, meanwhile, had course through the twilight of her waking mind before she drifted off this final thought concerning her assent to the sorceress's help:

Have I done the right thing?

Dauner
 
"Oh, that I certainly can do" Dauner would respond. In fact, that's pretty much what he's been doing since arriving on Arethil. Before that, he had been constrained by too many responsibilities to fully live for none other than himself, but now that he was free of those responsibilities, he had little in the way of obstruction to his more self-centered goals.

"But that leaves me at an impasse" he continued. "What if, what I desired right now, at this moment, was you?" he asked, his voice low and beguiling, as though he was trying to cast an enchantment with his words. But he didn't need to. He didn't want to. He had a strong distaste for using anything other than his natural charm and silver tongue to creep his way into a lady's heart.

The question now out, Dauner put on a mild but confident smile, his left eyebrow slightly raised, as he awaited a response.
 
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Khorvayne smiled, hinting to a delight of indulgence, as she stood. With a tiny snap of her fingers the black fog she had been seated upon dispersed and disappeared.

"In so many ways..."

She walked around the fire and stood before Dauner.

"...we are alike..."

Then slowly came to seat herself in his lap, straddling him, arms draped over his shoulders.

"...are we not?"

The fire crackled and showed their shadows upon the forest floor, merged as one.

Dauner
 
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Dauner had somewhat expected such a response from Khorvayne, though, not as brazenly as she acted it. Khorvayne sitting on his lap seemed to excite the desire within him. Charmed he was, by her gray eyes, as though under an enchantment. The beauty of her visage, and the warmth of her body, only aiding in bringing out that desire from within him. Under different conditions, he would have her without sparing time for a second thought.

However, the desire being brought forward from within him, was not only his, but also that inspired by his nature. The precept of lust, like the six other precepts Dauner had conceptualized his power upon, was a double-edged sword. Normally, indulging in the desire and pleasure would have no repercussions on him, but not when responsibility was forsaken for its sake. Then, the precept's danger factor would grow. This was of little immediate consequence, but eventually, if left unchecked, could end up devouring him. Such was one of the costs for a mortal walking the path only threaded by gods. A perilous path full of pitfalls, is what it is.

Right now, Dauner needed to stand guard and ensure Kristen came to no harm during her sleep. So letting go of that responsibility he had personally taken upon himself, would eventually bite him back. Perhaps once within the comfort of the walls of Ashol, he could indulge himself, for the dangers of the wilds would not exist in there.

Bringing up his hand, Dauner gently caressed Khorvayne's cheek. "Yes. That we are. But alas, I am under constraint and cannot satisfy my desire this day" he said, almost crying on the inside. "I only pray that your enticing offer still remains once we are out of the wilds. Should that be the case, I would be more than honored to take it" he said as he slowly brought her hand over to his face, and ended with placing a kiss upon it.
 
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The sorceress's smile persisted throughout, neither broadening nor lessening as Dauner touched her cheek, spoke, and kissed her hand.

"The door," she said, "remains open."

The hand which he had kissed twirled around slowly, the tip of her forefinger just barely touching the southernmost region of his cheek.

"You know how to summon me."

These were her parting words for the night before an inky blackness gradually overcame her flesh, her human form transforming in slow process into a flock of crows, the birds strangely able to fly up and away without making the slightest sound this time. The last of Khorvayne to disappear was that forefinger, and almost reluctantly did the contact of her fingernail fall away and merge into the final avian member of the flock. The crows disappeared into the dark above the reach of the fire's light, and there overhead in the branches did they perch and stand sentinel, many eyes keeping watch.

* * * * *​

Despite having slept for so long after suffering the poison miasma in the chapel at Yslan, Kristen slept again for a time without hindrance. It was only when dawn came, when the first spear of sunlight pierced through the trees, that Kristen stirred.

She sat up slowly in her tent, looking out with heavy eyes laden with the departing remnants of dispersing dreams to the ashes of the campfire.

This day, and those ahead, promised to be long ones.

Dauner
 
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Dauner watched Khorvayne fade into the darkness of night, feelings of lingering regret being the only thing he was left with after. For a man as unrestrained as him, restraining himself always elicited these feelings of regret. Especially when it was due to his decision that he had to restrain himself.

Dauner spent the rest of the night in meditation. His senses ever alert, while his body absorbed mana from the surrounding. This mana wasn't being refined into his body, but rather being used to clear out the injuries in his body, bit by bit. By morning, the difference in his injuries had barely changed. Not because of the severity of the internal injuries themselves, but rather because of the energy that still lingered in them, continuously attacking him from the inside, such that most progress done in healing was ultimately lost.

By the time Kristen stepped out of her tent, Dauner had already begun preparing breakfast. Using the meat from a dear, along with a few herbs he'd carefully picked, he prepared a meat soup in what looked like a hastily made clay pot, which seemed way sturdier than it looked. By the side were 2 similar bowls and spoons.

"Good morning, princess. How was the night? Seeing how you slept like a baby, I'm assuming your dreams were of a sweet-scented flavor" he said. "Can you pass me my jacket?" he continued. From the inner pocket of the jacket, he'd pull out what looked like salt, and add some to the soup. Then give it a final stir, before serving it with the bowls.

"A long Journey awaits. Best have a full stomach before we undertake it" he said handing a bowl to Kristen. "Not to boast, but my cooking could even leave gods asking for more" he added, confident and borderline boastful in his expression. Well, he did have many millennia of practice under his belt.
 
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When Dauner asked for the return of his jacket, Kristen, still a touch disoriented from being called "princess" (and thinking how fortunate her sister Amelia was for actually being one!), took off the jacket and handed it over absentmindedly.

"I slept soundly enough, to be sure."

And, well, it wasn't just the princess comment which had distracted her, but the aroma of the soup Dauner was preparing. She found that once the smell graced her nose she was quite hungry indeed.

A long journey awaits. Best have a full stomach before we undertake it.

"I couldn't agree more."

Kristen accepted the bowl and sat down cross-legged. She tried one spoonful of the soup and, after an arresting pause, eagerly downed a few more spoonfuls. At a second pause, her mouth clear of course (manners!), she said, "Make that 'couldn't agree more' on both counts."

She glanced down, smiled ruefully, then looked back up to Dauner.

"Here is another thing, cooking, in which I have interest yet for which Mother would scold me. I can hear her voice as clear as if it were yesterday: 'Such work is not for a Lady.'" She gave a long and thoughtful shrug. "I wonder at times what she would think if she knew in detail the things I do, and that I have done, now as an Dreadlord Initiate."

Sneaking into a patently unfriendly city to slay a madman being one of them.

Dauner
 
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Dauner wasn't entirely foreign to the worry of mothers. He'd seen more than one woman stop their kid from doing certain things, whether out of worry, or out of a desire to cultivate in their kids a list of things they shouldn't do because they were 'below their status'. Dauner himself had somewhat experienced that excessive and sometimes unwarranted motherly worry. He did live with family and loved ones for the first thirteen years of his life, after all.

"Mother's do love to worry excessively, don't they. Why, I'm certain she might as well launch a complaint with the academy if she found out the sort of dangerous tasks you carry out" he joked lightly. "But then again, that just goes to show how much they care" he continued.

Dauner didn't really mean all he said. He had no way of knowing what kind of person Kristen's mother was, nor did he know what her attitude towards Kristen was, so he just went with a generic assumption, using logic rather than feelings to process it. However, his emulation of concern in his tone felt even more genuine than the real ones.

"Come to think of it, you've mentioned your mother in passing quite a number of times, and yet, I seem to know next to nothing about her. What kind of woman is she, if you don't mind?" at this point, Dauner was thinking of whether Kristen would misunderstand his question and think he was going to add her to his list of must meet beauties, because that was a thing, though Kristen did not know of that. But considering his mostly lust driven interaction with almost every attractive female he encountered, such thoughts from Kristen would be justified. And there was no way Dauner himself could guarantee that he wasn't going to try his luck when he met her. After all, noble ladies did tend to look young in their beauty, even in their 30s. But that was a thought Dauner would only consider again should he personally meet her someday, so he shrugged it to the side of his mind.
 
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Kristen beamed when Dauner asked directly about her mother. Absence made the heart grow fonder, so the oft said adage went, and Kristen found it to be particularly true once she had been enrolled into the Academy. Only on a few occasions was she able to see her family in the now two years she had spent training as an Initiate, and so she took great joy in speaking about them whenever the opportunity arose.

"My mother Josephine is the quintessential image of what a proper noblewoman should be: full of feminine grace, tempered by dutiful propriety, and supportive of my father and family in all things. I love her so, and though my own course in life shall be irrevocably different from hers, still I will aspire to her example and endeavor to carry with me these traits which she exudes with flawless radiance, adapting them as I need to accommodate the...harsher lifestyle of a Dreadlord."

Her gaze traveled up and away, wandering down the blissful lane of cherished memory.

"She could be stern at times, of course, but never was she mean-spirited. I knew even as a young child that it upset her when, in my juvenile foolishness, I committed some infraction which made cause for her disciplining me. Yet, as a good mother should, she did so, lest she spare punishment and correction and in so doing spoil her child."

A bashful look came over her as, of course, this story came to mind and she just had to tell it.

"I used to be quite the 'cookie monster,' if you can believe it." She laughed lightly. "My favorites are the same now as they were then: snickerdoodles. So I, as a young girl, would often sneak into the kitchen and badger the servants until they inevitably relented and retrieved a plate of them for me. Mother caught on to these forays of mine and waited in ambush on one occasion for me to exit the kitchen. Unwittingly did I fall right into the trap, crumbs clinging to my lips and a handful of ill-gotten goods clutched to my chest, and I, in my childish naivete, had the gall to try lying about the whole unseemly affair. What a terrific scolding I received! Yet it was a necessary and formative one, so small yet so impactful upon the rest of my life, for I came to police myself and to adopt honesty as a guiding principle. I have my mother to thank for setting me upon the right path."

She looked back to Dauner. She knew of the tragedy which lay in his past like a scar upon the flesh, so she asked in a gentle and considerate manner:

"Do you...have any fond memories of your family which you would like to share?"

Dauner
 
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Dauner giggled as he listened to Kristen. From the air she was giving out as she spoke, she almost felt like a mummy's girl. Although blind to most feelings of affection, Dauner could still tell what love was when he encountered it, and Kristen seemed to deeply love her mother.

The story amused Dauner quite a bit, making him laugh. "Well, next time you come visiting the castle, I'll make you some special cookies" he said. Even though several millennia had passed, he still remembered how to make them. Mostly because that knowledge was one of the few things he had left to remember his first wife by, and was also something that had helped him bond with his eight other wives in the thousands of years that followed her passing. The thought of it didn't faze him much anymore, so he had no problems with making them now.

But then came a question that did faze him, and although, on the outside, his smile only waned slightly, on the inside, it died out completely. He'd move on from much since he took on the path he now walked, but, along with the regret of his betrayal by his disciples, the regrets from running off alone while his family was being massacred still haunted him to this day. In other words, his family was a slight touchy subject for him. Probably also the reason he remembered everything about his time with his family.

There weren't many good memories, aside from the shenanigans he carried out with his sister. He killed his mom, through an excess of lightning, which shocked her to death, as she held him in her arms right after his birth. His dad kept him at a distance, probably blaming him for his mom's passing. His stepmom sympathized with him, but was too scared of his power to approach him, and most of his step siblings just didn't like him, to the point where they even tried bullying him. They ultimately failed because of his lightning ability which he had from birth, and just kept him at a distance. He lived like a king, always getting all that he ever wanted, thanks to his dad's wealth, but if not for his sister, personal maid and a few servants who stood by his side, he'd have had a truly miserable childhood.

"Yeah" he replied, as he wore a warm smile, as though reminiscing a sweet memory. "When I was 12 I once snuck out of home to visit a brothel. Our family's guards used to speak so much of it, that I thought I must visit it myself. I remember, back then, I used to love beautiful women quite a lot, so imagine my surprise discovering that a brothel was a place full of beauties. At first, they treated me like a kid, but that changed when I pulled out a pouch full of coins. Money was never something I lacked back then. It was heaven, until my sister arrived. I must tell you, she was an expert in the art of pinching, and my ear was unfortunately on the receiving end of her skill" he laughed lightheartedly, his laughter slowly descending into a look of mild sorrow.
 
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Kristen put aside her misgivings about a twelve-year-old going to a brothel and just listened. Even if she had not noticed the small wane of his smile when she broached the topic of his family, she knew well enough how blessed she was to have the childhood that she had—her kidnapping notwithstanding. In the face of such tragedy as Dauner had experienced, Kristen believed it did one well to remember the good, recall it where one could find it no matter how scarce it might be. Perhaps him getting his ear pinched by his sister was at the time something he found eminently disagreeable, but as years made him distant from the event mayhap that aversion came to blossom into fondness.

That wistful look at the tail end of his laughter seemed to suggest so.

But Kristen did not latch onto that look. Instead, onto the laughter. The good.

She smiled. Said, "Seems our younger selves had penchants for getting caught." This, unfortunately, led to the inevitable segue about the task awaiting them in Ashol. "I should hope that the intervening time has improved our capacity for clandestine affairs."

Dauner
 
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Dauner giggled some at Kristen's words. "Indeed we did" he said, eating up the last morsel of meat in his bowl, and drinking up the remaining soup. "But I believe I'm now infinitely better at sneaking off. I do it all the time nowadays, which should explain why Ayana is always so mad at me whenever I return after sneaking off. I do wish I was also better at not having to face the consequences" Dauner slightly shivered. "She sure loves her arrows. I feel lucky to not be full of holes, considering how many times she tried to use me for target practice"

Putting down his bowl, Dauner got to his feet and stretched his body. "We should get moving soon. I'll get the horses" Dauner had already fed them and provided them with water first thing in the morning, before preparing the soup, so all that remained now, was simply to set off as soon as Kristen was ready.
 
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"Oh!"

Kristen's eyebrows rose, and her smile, while mirthful, was a bit unsure. Did this Ayana always resort to these drastic measures? Did Dauner abscond from his own Order as often as he let on? Did those arrows pose a serious risk to him?

These were all questions which would have to go unanswered. She had her breakfast to finish, which she started on again, and then the path to Ashol awaited.

Once she finished eating, Kristen packed up her supplies and strapped everything to the back of the saddle once more. She glanced down at her greaves and sabatons, the only functional armor that she had left after the fight with the Desecrators yesterday. Taking only a moment to consider it, she sat down then and took the greaves and sabatons off. These were then strapped atop her rolled up bedroll and tent canvas and travel pack.

Just her travel-worn beige shirt and her arming pants, where she was more often used now to wearing medium armor.

"Well," she said, pulling the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, "I feel particularly light on my feet now."

Right on time to punctuate that, she hopped onto her horse with ease.

"And mayhap I do not look particularly noteworthy. All the better not to draw unwanted attention once we reach Ashol."

Though, regardless of attire, her height often did.

Dauner
 
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