Completed The Homecoming

[Villam Regis]

The fact he'd given her more than a glance seemed to unease the Yheven girl, but he didn't pay much mind to it. The fact of the matter was that they were all a team, one way or another. Most of the others he knew to some extent. He'd even tried making conversation with Vazia Ferreria, for all the good it did him. She wasn't much of a talker, and he honestly wasn't sure if it was the nature of her stone or her own personality. Still, he nods back to Kaira and turns to stand back by his pedestal, waiting for those always obnoxious horns to signal the official 'beginning' of the proceedings.

It didn't take long after his Father's call for the brass to blare, but the sound was... well it was off to say the least. Sounded more like a hill giant's indigestion than it did a triumphant call to station. Eyes raised, including Villam's, in attempt to find some explanation for the unsavory noise that would have entrained a toddler at the very most.

Like they even needed to ask who'd been responsible.

"Ayden... Will he ever learn?"

The red-headed boy was probably the one of them who didn't seem to mind the idea of garnering Solomon's wrath. A small sigh left the Passion Guardian's lips as he turned his gaze over to the Absalon, the bearded old man's eyes burning a hole through the Protector of Wind. Villam couldn't deny that Ayden's timing was smart; Now that the horns had technically sounded, Solomon had to give his address before anything else could be attended to, giving Ayden time to plan his next move while he stood beside his pedestal.

Wait... something wasn't right.

The Homecoming had just been called to begin, and yet he'd seen hide nor hair of Misty Waters or the clumsy Fire-slinging fool who'd singed his eyebrows off three years ago. Usually such absences would cause a bit of a ruckus, but the fact that they were pushing forward...

Well, it implied they weren't expecting them to show up.

Villam felt his dark eyes narrow, suspicions already forming. Had somebody finally decided to make a move, then? He'd thought none foolish enough to try.

He'd have to squeeze some information out of his Father later.

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Ingrid let out a slight breath as Mabbon bumbled into her, startling blue eyes against the contrast of sickly skin opened wide as she lifted her head. She felt the small tug of a smile tease her lips as he addressed her and she nodded slowly.

"Yes, still in one piece. You know, they should make it dimmer in here for you." The thought hadn't occurred to her until she saw the poor thing squinting, and obviously struggling with the brightness.

She only managed a short reply, and he had moved on. There was anxiety, and high emotion soaking the air of the chamber they gathered in. It made her stomach roll, and she bit her cheek to stem the feeling. The last thing she needed to do was cover the carpet in vomit. Fire was fine, it scorched but it was a cleansing thing..vomit was gross and nobody wants to smell that.

Ingrid jumped as Ayden made his presence known. She sucked in the breath she had released when Mabbon had bumped her, a hiss between her teeth. She didn't dislike Ayden, in another world, she'd have enjoyed his antics.

She didn't have time to dwell, Solomon's voice cut through conversations and everyone began to take their places. Ingrid made her way slowly the her own spot. Her stone calling to be held, cradled against her flesh once more. She felt a shiver down her spine, and a cold sweat that made her forehead bead. This was going to be a long few days.

 

[Mabbon Dreierg]

Ingrid's parting words left Mabbon feeling strangely melancholy. Yes, he would have preferred the room a touch darker. Pitch black, ideally. But there were other Guardians to consider. Friends and comrades who had problems of their own to contend with. Mabbon would not make a nuisance of himself unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then only as a last resort.

With Solomon's announcement, the Bearer of Darkness made his way over to the pedestal upon which his Stone would sit. Ayden was up to his usual antics. Normally, Mabbon would have chuckled along with the rest of the Guardians, but not this time. The journey had robbed him of his sense of humour. Days spent roasting beneath the light of day did that to a man though... maybe it was just him.

Coming to a halt, Mabbon slipped a hand inside his cloak. The dark folds seemed to devour the light but... no, it was just the Stone.

Bringing it out into the open, Mabbon placed the Stone of Darkness down with a gentleness belying his strength. Blacker than black, with no definable edges, the Stone looked more like a rent in the fabric of their shared existence than it did anything else. Cool to the touch, it pulsed rhythmically as it drank in the light surrounding it.

A nearby torch billowed, went out. Mabbon felt his skin prickle uncomfortably. The Stone did not appreciate being left out for everyone to see. It did not appreciate him.

'Pack a sock in it, will you!' Turning side-on to the pedestal, Mabbon sought out the Absalon with eyes wide shut. The Stone made its displeasure known by punishing him, but then it had done that every day since he had taken possession of it. What was one more, really?

 

[Solomon Regis]

Like the turning gears of a clock they all moved into their places, save for the missing two. All of the Guardians were unique in their upbringing, their personalities, and even their ideals and motivations. That was by design; A group of singularly like-minded individuals ran the risk of becoming nothing more than a worshipping cult. That was not their purpose. They were to defend and protect, not to revere and idolize.

Even then, all of them knew well the importance of what they were doing here. Even the tricksy Wind Guardian had solemnly vowed to safeguard the power he possessed, in what had been one of the only times he'd seen the boy be serious about anything in his life.

Now these Thirteen men and women, from different races, walks of life, and desires stood before him with backs straight and eyes forward, brought together as one for a common purpose. Solomon too brought his hands behind his back and straightened his posture as he slowly descended the staircase to join them, pushing the troubling thoughts of the Fire Guardian's disappearance from his mind for now.

"Loyal Guardians. We have gathered here in the Tower left for us by our forebearers, forged with molten rock and blood from their holy veins, to celebrate, remember, and reinvigorate. The burden we carry in their name is mighty, as is the power we both wield and protect."

Solomon slowly made his way down the line, his eyes meeting each of The Guardians as he passed them with a quiet, subtle nod of approval. This was not the inspection-- rather it was an acknowledgement of each and every soul who'd served and followed him over the last three years. A silent sign of gratitude for all that they'd done.

"Three years is a long time to many, and yet to us it is merely one chapter's closure and the beginning of another. Even so, that you have returned to me today is proof of your worth. It is a validation of the choice I and the Somners made to place our faith in you. You, my Guardians, have made me proud."

Solomon reached the end of the line, where the largest of the stones, too big to be lifted without the use of both hands, rested on a large marble pedestal. The Sixteenth, Life and Death. The old man's hands outstretched, his palms spreading on the surface of the Rune as he spoke.

"Though the world outside these walls can be unforgiving and full of vice and evil, our duty stays the same. We must prevent any such evil from wielding the tools passed down to us by the Gods themselves. The Homecoming is when we bring those tools back to where they were left in the beginning of time, and we show those watching down on us that we have upheld our obligation. And then..."

Slowly dropping his hands back to the sides of his pristine white robes, Solomon turned and instead spread them towards The Guardians.

"We celebrate our victory. The city of Valenntenia comes alive for us, bathes us in the love we cultivate by serving her people. The taxes that so many of you who now stand before me have paid, the sacrifices you have made to keep our Runestones safe... this is the day where we celebrate you, honor you, and give back to you. This is your day, my Guardians. To three more years, and to a better world when next we meet, my brothers and sisters."

The horns, now clear of 'obstruction' sound again in triumph as The Absalon gives a deep bow to those who've so faithfully followed his command for the last three years, signaling the end of the address. It was a bit shorter and more concise than previous speeches, but other matters were demanding of Solomon's attention, and he was certain that The Guardians wouldn't mind the extra time to themselves.

Speaking of extra time...

"Unforeseen circumstances have arisen that require my immediate attention..." Solomon suddenly continued in a far less formal tone. "Therefore, inspection will be occurring tomorrow, as opposed to now. I understand not all of you have accommodations to remain in the city for another day, so arrangements have been made so that any such people may stay in the Tower tonight, rooms are prepared."

It was not a suggestion. Solomon's tone made it quite clear that they were expected to be here this time tomorrow regardless of how they felt about that fact.

With that, the large doors they'd entered through opened once more, and the city lights glowed bright even against the sun.

"I expect to see you all tomorrow. Should any of you need anything, I will be available through the night and into the morning. Now go, and enjoy yourselves. You all have earned it."

 

[Ayden]

Just a twinkle in his sky-blue eyes gave any hint at his hand in the horn prank. Then again, he always had the twinkle in his eyes. “What?” He whispered innocently to Lyta. Ignoring grumpy Taima’s judgy glare. He briefly wondered what Stella had for him.

Sometimes she brought back little gifts from her travels. His favorite so far had been a griffin feather that he often kept tucked behind one of his ears.

Sighing, he finally set his feet firmly on the ground and released the stone of air on its pedestal. And for a split second, he felt as if the sudden weight in his bones and the gravity he often didn’t feel wrap around his body like a vice, ready to crush him. Just as quickly, the feeling was gone.

There was one thing he did before releasing the stone, though he’d deny it. A gentle, sudden breeze took those flies that swarmed Ingrid Bohnes all day long and pulled them away. The relief would only be temporary. A few minutes at best.

By the time Solomon finished speaking, they’d probably be back. But Ayden was focused on the most important thing at hand. It was time to PARTY!!!!! Something to help him feel lighter than air when he didn’t have the stone was that drink with the fizzy bubbles in it. And he left in search of just that.

 

[Lyta]

The Guardian's departed following Solomons proclamation, leaving their stones in the heart of their nation. For tonight and tomorrow they would be safe without living under their guardian's direct care. Though... didn't there seem to be more guards than usual?

Some Guardians departed for their own residences within the city, or those of their families, but for those who had neither or preferred a change of pace, Lyta offered an invitation to her familial home. The Drømmer family home was nestled practically in the heart of the bustling city and was one of the largest on the well-kept square. For the special occasion and due to the families deeply connected history with the stones, the family had thrown open their doors to everyone. Wine and food flowed out onto the streets where the party merged with the offerings of local shops, restaurants and other family homes. Tonight there were no doors. Tonight there would be celebrating!

But... weren't there more guards than usual?

Lyta glanced to one of the maids who she caught whispering the question to the Head of the Staff. The stern older woman gave the younger woman a scowl and sent her scuttling off but it was too late. What worried Lyta more was it wasn't the first time she'd heard someone murmur about the increased presence of the Vanguard in the nights festivities. She looked into the mirror and washed the worry from her face for the young girl sitting in the chair.

"There," she announced to Noi, squeezing her shoulders to let her know she was finished with the girls hair. It had taken a while but Lyta had curled it and tied a few strands back with beautiful green ribbons that set off the girls unnatural eyes. You look beautiful. She signed in the mirror. Lyta didn't know a lot but she had tried to work on some during her travels so she could talk to the girl on her return. She was the last of the little group currently sat around her suite who had wanted to get ready together.

"Let's go!" she clapped her hands with a smile.

 

[Mordred]

Mordred had politely declined Lyta’s offer to get ready together; that had definitely seemed like a woman-folk thing. Instead he had used the quiet after Solomon’s speech to do what he should have done earlier and grabbed himself a bath. That was about all a man needed to look presentable for a evening of celebrations, right? He’d opted for a silk pocket square too for his fine woven waistcoat and a clean, crisp shirt. Yes, that was all that was needed for someone like Mor.

Despite his desires to keep to the shadows when he possessed the stone, tonight he sought out the very pulse of the party and followed it through the streets with a faint smile. It brought him joy to see the people living. This was, after all, why any of them did what they did. It was humbling and a good reminder to keep him going over the next few months when the stone was returned to him. Tonight, however, he was free. So he accepted a drink that was offered by a slightly swaying man who exited the Drømmer estate and took a sip. Instantly his nose scrunched up.

Wine still tasted like blood.

Setting it to the side he sought out the bar instead to get a good dram of whiskey.

 

[Villam Regis]

The speech was a tad more concise than Villam was used to, but something was troubling his father, that much was unmissable by his own blood. Villam merely narrowed his gaze as the evaluations were delayed a day further.

It didn't take a genius to deduce that the postponement had something to do with fire's disappearance, but he doubted Solomon would give them any further information. He scarcely looked any of them in the eye as she walked past the Guardians to exit the Tower, his pace that of a man on a mission.

Ordinarily, Villam would follow out of sheer curiosity, but he was -attempting- to make amends with his father, and tailing The Absalon to learn whatever secrets he held wasn't likely to do him any favors in that regard. More likely it would just lead to an earful he'd heard a hundred times before. No, he'd distract himself for now, surely some of his fellow Guardians would have something in mind to pass the time.

Of course... there was that girl. She hadn't made any move to approach Lyta, as she beckoned for everyone who wished to join her in celebration. Perhaps now would be an opportune time for that chat he'd asked about.

Scooping up his stone and tucking in the secret pouch of his shirt, he left his pedestal and made his way towards Kaira, doing his best to appear friendly, an emotion which he wasn't particularly versed in.

"Miss Yehven. A word before you leave to presumably celebrate, if you wouldn't mind?"

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Unaware of the deep creasing as her dark brows knitted together, Kaira had barely paid attention to the welcoming speech by the Absalon, and thus had not realised they had been dismissed. The evaluations set to begin the next morning, Kaira was left feeling lost as she came to the present, roused by the voice belonging to Villam. She turned around, face filled with alarm but not at his expense. There had been so much left unsaid, and her need for answers were slipping away as her dark hazel eyes darted across the room to see the retreating figure of her grandfather and the other Somners. He will not avoid me so easily later... she thought, planning on returning to her old room in the Yehvan home to corner Arran.

To Villam, the Guardian of Faith offered a kind smile. "Of course." The awkwardness she held at his earlier greeting was gone, far too distracted now to remember exactly why. "And please, just call me Kaira." She insisted sheepishly. Like the name Regis, Yehven held considerable weight and expectations. The name was littered amongst the Vanguard over many generations, and Kaira often felt as if she put that legacy on hold after becoming a Guardian. That, and the Children of Valenntenia often called her Daughter Yehven when Daughter of Valenntenia became too long to say after a while.

Kaira had been curious as to what the Passion Guardian wished to discuss with her. There never went a day that the names of the fifteen other Guardians were not said in prayer, seeking protection for her comrades and asking the Ancients for strength and clairty. The Faith Stone often asked of her to pursue, leaving no stone left unturned it seemed most nights. It left her restless, unable to sleep until she prayed and prayed until she was in a sort of trance.

Ahhh... That was why she regarded him oddly. The last Homecoming, Kaira raised concerns when she admitted she was able to see the deceased, those that left before their true time was up. Meeting Villam's gaze only reminded her that his own late mother prayed in the same room as Kaira did. She definitely would not reveal that anytime soon.

"What would you like to discuss?"

 

[Noi]

Noi should have placed her hand on her rune stone to listen to Solomon’s speech, but she had decided it would be more fun to play pretend instead. After all, how much could this speech be different from the one three years ago with Myra or Maun before her? Solomon would start with a little reminder on their roles, then a brief summary of the history before thanking everyone and —

Noi blinked. Was this speech shorter? She couldn’t remember word for word what all the guardians had experienced before her, but she could remember Myra wishing for it all to be over and the speech being far too long. This was hardly long! But then again, three years ago, Myra was suffering dearly, wasn’t she?

Well, now they should all be gathering for the inspection. Noi grabbed her stone in tandem with the others, feeling the world all around her once again. For a moment, her shoulders slumped as the vibrations assaulted her: voices, trumpets, movement, all of it creating a unpleasant dissonance in her head.

With the countless eyes and hands inside her head, they blabbered on and on and on. If they could just shut up.

With shaky fingers she put the small glass-like stone into the necklace, still managing to keep her hands on it before tying it around her neck until it was snug against her throat. She smiled then, and it was that at that point that she was aware of the news that the inspection would be for tomorrow.

---

Lyta had been more than kind in offering to help Noi with her appearance. It wasn’t that Noi didn’t trust Taima to do hair but rather because Lyta had more experience with long hair, didn’t she? Her hair was so long and so pretty, how could Noi refuse the offer in having Lyta fix up her hair?

She had made the right decision. Beaming into the mirror, Noi was immensely pleased by the results. She looked at Lyta through the mirror, grinning as she signed. Turning around, without asking if it was alright, Noi hugged the blonde, still grinning from ear to ear.

Moments later, she had taken hold of Lyta’s hand.

Sometimes it’s easier to communicate like this. Noi thought, a connection being made for the two of them as long as their skin continued to touch. Thank you. And then Noi let go of Lyta’s hand and went to Taima , showing off Lyta’s handiwork. She took Taima’s hand then and reached for Lyta, ready to pull these two women with her to go off and enjoy the festivities.

 

[Taima]

Taima still wore the black sash of mourning over her simple tunic and set of trousers. Work belt over her waist with various small carpenter tools. Tools for pottery. Gardening tools. Various odds and ends. She, like Mordred, had taken a bath, so she was clean. But she had never been one for fancy clothes or finery.

That didn't mean she was against others wearing it or enjoying themselves.

Grasping Noi's smaller hand gently in her own calloused, darker one she smiled at the girl. "Lovely and classy," she said and thought toward Noi, easing into the familiar connection the other girl bridged between them. Umber eyes looked to Lyta. If it wasn't for the two of them, she'd be hiding away among the fields around the city. Even in the moonlight, alone with her thoughts and grief.

Perhaps she'd still slip away to do just that.

She could not put on a happy face as easily as Lyta or Noi. Not when too many things here reminded her of him. But she would vow to try and not bring the mood down for the others.

"Do you smell that?" She said as they wove their way outside and onto the streets filled with glowing lanterns, bustling crowds, smiling faces, and food vendors. "Roasted vegetables with rosemary," she winced, a pang in her heart as her smile faltered, a memory leaping to the surface. Lips pressed tightly, umber eyes sweeping the crowds.

Noi, how are you holding up?

She was worried about the girl and the pressure the stone of silence put on its bearers.

 

[Konstantin]

Valenntenia was beautiful in the warm glow of the lantern lights that enveloped it. Konstantin wandered her streets, a glass of whiskey in hand and a smile on his face, trinkets and baubles softly clinking below the din of the festivities around him. He had no destination, no intent beyond being present and drinking in the sights. It was the least he could do; the symbol of Power should be visible for something so illustrious as the Homecoming.

Beneath the thin veneer of calm congeniality was a storm of unrest. Konstantin could only wonder what the absence of Fire and Water meant, and along with the Absalon's interruption of the ceremony Konstantin could only assume the worst. Misty was fickle and flighty, sure, but for the other to be absent was not, by any means, normal. If someone had managed to kill him...

The crumbling man grit his teeth. No. Now was not the time to think about that. This was the time for revelry and reflection. Perhaps he'd bump into one of his fellow Guardians as he slipped through the thoroughfares. He could use the distraction.

 

[Stella]

Never having been one for social occasions, Stella took her leave of the others for the day in order to peruse the contents of the city's main library, as she was want to do whenever here.

 

[Céline Éclairé Atmos]

Celine swept a hand over the stone, the same twinge of will bending the light around it and obscurring it from sight again. She had a lot of thoughts, and she was sure the others had begun to taken notice as she had. Still...the city was rife with celebratory life. It was a neat distraction, to say the least. She sighed, a heavy, solemn feeling sinking in her chest. They were dismissed to enjoy themselves--yet she knew better.

The evening air was cool, a slight breeze. Celine made her way up--up to the top floor. To the roof. To the highest she could climb. Sometimes her heart was in her throat, knowing one wrong move would send her to her death--and yet her blood hummed with adrenaline and her ancestral skillset came into play. Celine was nimble, agile and above all else--silent. She perched on the roof that gave her the best vantage point. People meandered below like tiny ants. This time she changed out of her familiar whites and silvers and exchanged them for mottled greys, blacks and greens. Simple clothing, light that allowed her to move with practiced grace.

The dull roar of the festivities was still a comforting sound. Celine grew up on these streets, on these very rooftops, even. There was more to light than just how brightly it could shine. Sometimes being obscure had its place, too. But here, away from eyes and ears. Away from people--she sat, straddling the peak of a roof and prayed.

Head bent, she murmured quietly speaking to no one and everyone--the ones that mattered, that was. She prayed to the gods, she prayed to the saints. She prayed and she prayed. Celine prayed with such fierceness, that she worried the gods would think her a fanatic. Still, she wanted it known--known to those higher above her, that she had never relinquished her piety, that she always sought salvation for the things she was responsible for. Lives taken, to protect others. The safety of her fellow guardians. The safe return of those two who had not come home. Some judged her because she sought no house to pray in, no community to join and be a part of--and how could she? Her cargo was precious, and the vanity of only praying in a specific place never sat well with her. The gods were with her no matter where she prayed.

Perhaps it was a misguided notion, but it was one thing that kept her going. A soothing salve on a battered soul. Their path of guardianship was a troubled one, a strain on their mind, body and soul. She wanted redemption before oblivion took her. Celine wanted to know that the light she clung to was worth it all.

She would patrol the city from above, allowing the vigilante she had become to take precedence before her own comfort and merriment.

Others first. That was the way. That was her way.

 

[Villam Regis]

Villam smiled, but it was an expression that looked almost uncanny on his face, clearly something he did not do often, anyways. "Kaira, then. Of course." He understood the burden of a Surname. It was a silent but very mutual weight they both carried, and Villam felt the slightest hint of pity for the young woman.

Nevertheless, he, like many, thought her a wonderful choice for her Stone. Kaira was able to attain the sort of admiration and wonder that his Passion stone garnered him without the need for any magic whatsoever.

A shining light for many, indeed.

"Walk with me?" Villam gestured to the door with a hand, still looking at her. "I just wanted to ask you your opinion on a few things. Three years is a long time to think, isn't it?" He didn't make it expressly clear why he wanted to consult her of all people, but that reason would become obvious in time. Headed for the door, he wordlessly gestures her to follow, moving slow enough to give her time to decide.

Should she choose to accompany him, he would speak almost immediately after leaving the Tower, idle chatter for now, his best attempt at idle small talk. "How're you feeling? That rock been treating you well? I hope I didn't startle you earlier, I thought we had more time before the old man started his spiel, or I'd have waited." Villam huffed, obviously not thrilled with being interrupted, even by The Absalon.

Kaira Yevhen

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Without her Stone, Kaira began to feel the heavy presence begin to drift out from her. The feeling grew stronger, making her feel lighter by the time she followed him past the doors. Standing outside, she took a large inhale before emptying her lungs slowly. "I feel... so odd." She scrunched her face in confusion, wondering if that was the right way to describe what she felt. Freedom, but not because she was held back. She was free to leave the city walls now, in theory, and perhaps be able to visit that large oak tree her father used to climb with her to eat their packed lunch.

Her thoughts were running wild, only just catching on to the small talk he was making. Kaira grinned at him. "Oh that? Not your fault. I blame not eating since lunch yesterday as the reason for my... awkwardness earlier..." Her stomach growled, timed perfectly. Without the Stone giving her that strength needed, she began to feel the burdens of sleepless nights and skipping her meals. Villam did not need to know that, or the fact she spent all hours of the night and morning stuck in prayer. "Besides that, the Stone has been... quite the study. Some of the texts from the Tower's library say that Faith and Passion are quite similar, but also different in various ways. I hope to have my name cited beneath studies like that in the future." Kai lifted a brow in his direction, leaving it as a question for him to ponder.

 

[Villam Regis]

"I feel... so odd."

Villam raised a brow as the pair of them departed the Tower. Whether she knew it or not, there was much excitement surrounding her placement as a Guardian. That Villam, who's stone was so notable for drawing attention to him, could be looked over for her by some of the people of the city made her all the more fascinating.

She seemed in her own world, perhaps pondering the words of his father, before she finally returned to speak with him on their plane of being, the dreamlike look in her eyes melting as she apologized. Villam shook his head. "It was inappropriate of me to approach you before the speech regardless." The fact she'd not eaten in some time didn't faze Villam, who often went long without sleep or food himself.

She shared something with him that many of the Somners had also expressed to him in the past, that being Faith and Passion's proximity to one another. Regis would be lying if he claimed that didn't have anything to do with him seeking her out today. As the Passion Guardian led Kaira down the long road from the Tower into down, he nodded along with her words.

"We do guard similar powers, but..." Villam seemed to ponder his words. "Looking at you, at the way the people look at you... I can't help but feel you serve a greater purpose than I. They look to me and see inspiration from my stone. They see what they want to see through the haze of Passion." He tilts his head towards her. "Even without yours, they revere you. You are the heart of many in this city, Guardian or otherwise. That power rivals that of any stone."

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Kaira's smile was effortless as Villam pointed out the fanfare she recieved on the daily basis; the city, and especially those in the Old Town, have practically raised Kaira the moment her parents both perished. Her grandfather had a duty as Somner, often leaving her in the care of those near their home. She felt as if she needed to repay back their kindness, to not take for granted the time they took in helping shape her future.

"When I made the Vanguard, they celebrated all weekend... when I was made Guardian, crickets, I felt like the gods that day." Their stride had slowed enough for conversation, and luckily due to the early conclusion of today's welcome ceremony, the streets were clear from the earlier fanfare and could allow Kaira to walk freely without too much distraction. "I still feel as if I have to prove myself to some of the Somners. I heard some whispers that they think I am more suited to the Vanguard... but should Guardians not know a little combat? Perhaps if I was bestowed a Stone of some reverence like Power or Light... would they still doubt me then?" The name Yehven was a warrior's name. When her grandfather was injured beyond repair, he became a Somner. Her father died in the line of duty...

"Can I trust your discretion, Villam? If I share to you what I see with the Faith Runestone?" He had more time with his Stone, and Kaira certainly kept to herself within Valenntenia the past three years that she was not all that close with anyone. But it gave her purpose to learn more on her Stone, to figure out the voices of the Ancients reaching out to her. Did Villam find similar with his Stone?

 

[Villam Regis]

Villam shook his head, more to himself than to her as they headed further down the road. These streets would be boisterous once more in a few hours; better they talk now when they could hear themselves think. Perhaps they could find a place to grab some tea. Valentennia's tea was one of the few things he longed for when he was away.

"I disagree. Putting you in a position where you're more likely to face danger would be a bad move on the part of the Somners." As adored as she was, 'demoting' her to the Vanguard or forcing her to face more combat would leave a bad taste in the general public's mouths. "The people would see it as an insult to their chosen panjandrum at best, and a brazen disregard for her safety at worst."

Villam raised a hand, signaling her to turn with him down a small side street as he continued. "The people aside, you need to be more confident in yourself. Not all Guardians are made for the same roles. You serve a purpose that none of the other Guardians can fulfill. We have those who are best suited for the field of battle. Anybody who expects you to be one of them just because of your last name is a fool."

There was an edge to his words. Unsurprising, considering Villam's history of dealing with people who expected him to travel a certain path because of what his last name was. He hadn't been able to escape it, but Yevhen still had a chance to, if she truly wished. "Come. I'm parched after all that nonsense this morning. Care for some tea? You can tell me what you wish to over a hot cup."

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Kaira cut him a surprised look at his comment on her family name, and in that moment she too felt the burdens he no doubt shared. She pressed her lips together to stew his words over, a little disappointed in herself to not see that side of her return to the Vanguard. Was she so green and eager to please that she would of done anything to appease the Somners?

Yet, Villam was right. She declared to study and work with the Stones, with the Ancients that reached to her through the Runestone. Her name would be cited in the books detailing the Stone of Faith, and she could only hope that she could better prepare the next Guardian of Faith.

So Kaira wordlessly kept up with him, smiling now that her first true Homecoming revealed Guardians eager to look out for her despite her being unable to follow the out past the city walls. "Tea would be lovely." She agreed. In a practiced motion, her hand grabbed the scarf and pulled it loose from her waist, draping it over and around her shoulders. Securing the makeshift hood to cover her face some, it became obvious the so called Daughter of Valenntenia struggled to keep her anonymity in these parts. Often she had wondered if the Stone had this effect, but her popularity was still relevant even during the days her parents were among the living. The Yehven name would not be forgotten in this city.

"I will try and not take up much of your time, Villam." Or subject him to her adoring fans. Crickets, she thought, imagine what pandemonium Passion would cause...

 

[Villam Regis]

The small tea shop that Passion led her to was one known to most in Valenntenia for its age and longevity. The old stone building was only a few years younger than the Tower itself if the rumors were to be believed. Indeed, Villam often had come here growing up with his friends from the Vanguard. The tight-knit group he'd been a part of was one of the only things that had kept him sane through that period of service.

He'd not sat with them since his selection as Guardian.

To his fellow soldiers, Villam had been seen as an innocent youth. In those days, he'd not been shy about his desire for peace and his distaste for a life of training, drilling, and fighting every day. They'd teased him, of course, but they also sympathized with him. In time, they helped him become the warrior he was meant to be and lifted him up when he needed it most.

Then he became a Guardian. His mind matured, innocence departed, and the disillusioned man left behind was no longer one of them.

The man who led Kaira inside was one bereft of pacifism and hopes for any ordinary future. That which remained was stoic determination, heated by the boiling vengeance beneath it.

Villam took a seat in the back of the tea room. It was a chilly place, with brisk winds from outside seeping in through the gaps in the stone walls. The brewing tea sent small waves of warmth through the building, floral-smelling smoke wafting carelessly across the patrons and tucking them under a blanket of comfort.

"Whatever power granted to you by the-- Oh, milk, please." Villam briefly paused to request his usual milk tea from the young woman who came to serve them. Her hazel eyes were practically alight as she gazed down at the Passion Guardian, no doubt some warm feeling of inspiration or admiration beginning to bubble from the stone's influence, bringing her passion alive from the depths of her heart. Tearing her gaze away from Regis, she took Kaira's order with a blushing face and rushed back to relay it. "Whatever power it's given you, it's nothing to feel fear or shame for. We cannot begin to loathe ourselves for things we become for our people."

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Kaira took the chair opposite from Villam, casting her eyes around the place. Nothing had changed since her last visit over a decade ago. It was a bittersweet, the memories slowly pouring in as the sounds of tea filling cups and the gentle whistle of teapots boiling... the scents taking up the room and transporting her to a time she was much smaller and ducking adn weaving her way to the kitchen door, a list of teas written down for the young Kaira to pick up and deliver to her mother.

Her eyes were asked of her attention, turning to face the Guardian as his voice cut through the memories she had. The young woman taking their order widened her eyes seeing Kaira, recognising her face beneath the scarf and making a small noise of surprise. "The rose green tea. Please." An earnest face, one that silently begged for her discretion, earned the Faith Guardian a small nod before she turned and hurried away from their table. Kaira's eyes lingered at a small table, noticing the scrapes, wear and tear, and the carved little star on the side of the wooden table. That was their table.

Faith listened to Passion, his words continuing their earlier conversation as her teeth began to chew at her cheek, giving away her stewing of words. "I do not regret accepting this Stone. I only wish that those that were responsible in my appointment still held faith in... well, my faith. Three years I have succumbed to the loneliness this Stone seeks, and written more pages than of those of the past Guardians combined. I dread after what I will tell them tomorrow at the examination, they will refute my findings." Her brows knitted together, giving her facade a picture of worry as her eyes still remained on that table. Funnily enough, she could hear her mother's laugh, doing her best not to spill the tea from the pot as Kaira threatened to swap her cup for the small flowerpot that used to sit on their chosen tabletop.

"I love him, but I also believe my grandfather being a Somner also hinders me. A Yehven girl is meant to continue tradition and be with the Vanguard. Crickets, the elder women in Old Town still ask me if I will find a husband to settle down with." Kaira forced her eyes to meet his again, a truly horrified look contorting her features. "You can imagine the questions they asked when I was being courted before becoming Guardian." She broke out into a laugh. Old Town helped bring her up, so it was only fair they pestered her with such questions. At least they care to ask...

"I wanted to ask of you... if you too were doubted? I know your father - the Absalon - was a Guardian himself... but did the Somners think of you unfit? What was your first evaluation like?" Should Kaira be truthful? Can she trust that Somners to support her?

 

[Villam Regis]

The nostalgia that seemed to briefly take hold of Kaira wasn't unnoticed but also wasn't called out on by Villam. What history she had with this place was none of his business. With an establishment so storied, most everybody had some tale to tell about these tables, and he was no different. Instead, he focused on her words leaning in to display his attentiveness as she spoke.

What he heard, he could relate to. Perhaps more than any other of their peers. All stones brought an aspect of loneliness with them, the powers they held tending to be isolating ones, indeed. Villam had been unaware of Yevhen's grandfather's status as a Somner, but a rare look of sympathy did cross his features as she told him. Of course, he understood. How couldn't he? He was the Absalon's son, destined to carry all his father now held.

The pressure on her shoulders... he knew it as though it were his very own.

"Of course I was, Kaira..." He muttered as their tea was placed before them on a small round tray, two individual lavender teapots, steam rising slowly from their spouts, beside two small cyan teacups already filled with the drink of their choosing. Villam nodded to the server, and the young lady quickly returned to her duties. the Passion Guardian continued. "I still am to this day. There are expectations of me that I will never be able to adhere to, either by nature or by choice. I do not wish to be my father, despite what the Somners may desire."

Villam chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, his hazel eyes aiming down at the milky tea steaming in his cup. He really wasn't any good at this kind of thing, and normally he wouldn't have bothered trying to make her feel better. What she said was true, and whatever his Father and his Somners would decide wasn't going to change because he gave her some kind of pep talk.

Even so...

Regis slid his hand across the table, resting it briefly over Yevhen's as he looked back up at her once more. "And I do not think you need to be what everybody expects of a Yevhen. Not if it isn't what you want. We shouldn't be tied to our names, it's an archaic way of thinking." He pulled his hand back, furrowing his brow at the gesture he'd made. "Instead of worrying about being the next Yevhen, I think you should focus on being the first Kaira Yevhen. You do a damned good job at that, I think."

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Surprise stunned her as his hand warmed the top of her own, and even as he came to sense and withdrew, she kept her hand still for a few moments, hoping that the flush she felt warming her cheeks was not so obvious. Clearing her throat, she curved her lips into a smile and moved to take the cyan teacup. "My mother used to say the same. She chose to go against her family's tradition of using the mother's name for a daughter. She said the world had seen many Perrine Havardur's that the world deserved the first Kaira Yehven." The absence of the Stone of Faith felt as if her chest were hollow, without a heart nor a connection that could project the image of her departed mother. Yet her laughter filled Kaira's memories, strengthened tenfold here in this tea shop. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip, testing the heat.

"Forgive me for asking this, Villam, but... what do you hope to achieve if not Absalon? Even if I am one day seen unfit to continue as Guardian, I want to continue the efforts of my mother. She was a healer, they say. Healing the soul and faith... and as tiresome it can be, I would not turn anyone away if they require a kind ear and a comforting voice that the Ancients gave me." Her dark hazel irises lifted to meet his lighter hues. To pick his brain was an interesting one, someone that spoke in the same way her parents once did filled her with comfort, as if they chose this Child of the Ancients to echo their words to their surviving child. "Would you travel? Have you traveled as of late?" She did her best to appear indifferent to her last question, hindered by her Stone to not leave the powerful Faith here in Valenntenia since her appointment as Guardian. "Your father encourages that we as Guardians do. Watching the others leave this City each and every time they return is such a bittersweet moment to witness. Only this time two did not return..." Dark brows knitted together as her eyes fell to the steaming teapots. She was very disorientated at being dismissed from the Tower earlier than anticipated, Kaira forgot the mystery that unfolded within those walls.

 

[Villam Regis]

Villam felt the slightest hint of a smile on his lips as she recalled her mother's wisdom. Yes, Perrine sounded like one he would have gotten along well with. He took a drink of his milk tea, closing his eyes and enjoying the added thickness the dairy gave the drink as it slipped down his throat. Kaira did not speak much about her family, at least not to the other Guardians. It was yet another thing that he could understand all too well, his mother's fate perhaps the deepest wound on his soul.

More than even his Father realized.

His gaze opened once more as Yevhen asked him a somewhat invasive question. Not in bad faith, he knew. Even so, his brow seemed to furrow with her words as she lengthened her query, attempting to soften the initial probe with other, less personal ones. Slowly he lowered his drink back down to the table and held it in both hands, running the digits of one over the other's knuckles as he pondered his words.

"I think travel is important." He began, deciding to tackle the easier question first. "Being confined to one city, full of like-minded people with similar beliefs and backstories as you isn't good for the mind. It makes you naive, easy to prey on." Villam spoke in low tones as if this were a truth that couldn't be shared too loudly, lest he be singled out for it. "There are evils out there that none in Valenntenia could imagine. If we are to be our best selves, we must know that evil. We must be better than it."

Picking up a spoon from the tray between them, he poured a bit more tea from the pot and into his cup before mixing it. It was obvious, despite his efforts, that something about her initial question troubled him.

"At first, I loathed the idea of becoming Absalon." He admitted, surprising himself; Villam had fully intended to lie to her, but the honesty she'd shown him thus far wasn't something he was willing to undermine. "It was a predetermined path chosen for me, not by me. But..." The cup comes to his lips again, and he shivers at the heat, briefly, before sighing. "The more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that perhaps it's not a path I should spurn. If I want things to change, perhaps I could enact those changes myself..."

Kaira Yevhen