Private Tales The Stars Are All We Have

[Beckett]

One warm and one cold eye studied him closely. His pep in his step. Changed appearance. He looked as if he'd never been in prison - half, starved. Nearly dead. And she of all folk could understand being mistaken by something they weren't. Short by fae-standards, she was often mistaken by one of his kind.

Not a lythari but an elf.

Where his had been a burden, hers was usually a boon. Most folk didn't believe in fae and if they did, they rightfully looked on them with suspicion and a healthy-dose of fear. And that was only if they were wise. Now, what he was offering though, was tricky.

"If you heal me, what do you want in return?" Things were rarely given without strings in the fae world. Bargains were made all the time by two simple and binding worlds: thank you. It's why fae never uttered them. Even without the words, fae were indebted by something like he was offering. It would be a bargain. Her golden eye lead the way toward the staff. Strange that he'd need to break it. How many staffs had he broken before, she wondered. And were all lythari like him?

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He had forgotten the customs of their kind. Agreements were binding, words had sacred purpose when spoken in certain ways, and it reminded him that he needed to be careful in how he approached conversation with this one. He had no understanding of her purpose here and if she was intending to save him, he wondered if that meant there was an agreement somewhere beneath the surface.

But at this point, he was already in her debt. Even if she didn't see it that way.

Shifting, he sat down on his rump and crossed his legs and thought. Propping his elbow on his knee, he rested his chin on his fist and pondered. His other hand reached up to a twig in his salt and pepper hair, extracting a small bundle of purple berries. Beautyberries. Sticking one in his mouth, he chewed and winced with how cold it was. And he chewed slowly, inspecting the ice and fire of her expression, he weighed his options.

"What do you offer?" He considered asking for more details in that memory of the field. But he knew the value of memories, things that could be lingered on for lifetimes for those who spent an eternity weaving through contracts and bargains. "Would a promise be worth your while?"​

 

[Beckett]

"Well, to start," a quirk of her lips, she dug inside her pocket and drew out a small wrapped parcel. Inside was a chunk of surprisingly fresh bread with a slice of dried meat and cheese on top with a layer of jam on the bread. "something more than berries that grow in your hair."

But she'd meant to offer him this before he'd suggested to heal her burns.

He didn't seem the type to want trinkets. She had plenty of those just from her own adventures and travel among the hundreds of years she'd walked on this land. "You want a promise from me?" A quizzical raise of her indigo brow. And though it was only marginally warmer in this little cave than it was outside, the fae didn't show any outward signs of being uncomfortable. And just like when she was upon his lupine form, he'd find the closer he got to her, the warmer it was.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He smiled at the offering and took it quietly, inspecting the dried meat and cheese and jam by turning it over and over. She underestimated the berry, there was more to it than just simple taste and diminutive energy. It could heal and more importantly, could stave off hunger for nearly a whole day. "Thank you."

The last of the light brimming from the ensnared wooden cage atop the Wandor Staff burned brightly before leaping from its confines, bouncing against the ground several times, like an apple loosed from a tree. Coming to a rolling stop near Ere, it wobbled before arms and legs sprouted from the bauble of fire. Tugging on the leaf armor of the Druid, the small spirit struggled clumsily as it worked its way up his armor and found a sitting spot on the lythari's shoulder. Ere pulled a bit of meat from the offering and the flame spirit took it after making grabby hands. Incinerating into smoke and coal, the meat disappeared as Ere took a bite as well.

"Yes. Or perhaps the promise to adhere to a promise. That if we exchange names, you won't take mine from me." Fey came in many forms, with many different proclivities. Some were kind, some were cruel. As wide the disparity was between the intentions of mortals, the elongation of time only further widened the expanse for those species that lived eternal. Ere had seen it all too often among his kind as well. But part of him assumed that he was making a request that would, eventually, not be required. She was warm after all.

Holding up the half eaten meat and cheese offering, Ere nodded. "This is really good."​

 

[Beckett]

A smile of delight and curiosity at the light spirit. She'd seen plenty of wisps but nothing quite like that. Its warm light brought out the deeper colors in each of her eyes. Opposite pairs that somehow worked in harmony.

Silently, she brushed off the two words of thank you he said, stopping them from getting a grip on her and burrowing into her skin to demand payment.

His proposal was curious. It made sense. Any one of her brethren from Summer Court would've frowned in disgust at being accused, caught, and stopped from using a name for what they wanted to. Beckett had never been like them. So Neremyn had nothing to worry about it.

Her contract with his family made his name already known to her. Though, perhaps, he'd give her a different one. But all that was neither here nor there. She'd never had any intentions of using his name for something nefarious.

"Alright then. A bargain. If we exchange names, I promise not to take yours from you. And in exchange, I'll allow you to heal the burns on my feet. Allow you both," gaze flickered up to the light spirit. "to." She extended her hand to his own for a shake to seal the promise. And if he took her own, they would both get a sudden appearance of indigo ink somewhere along the skin. Hers would form in the shape of a wolf's pawprint just on the inside of one wrist.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He watched her quietly as she contemplated the question, occasionally offering another bit of food to the fire spirit who, as before, took it with some measure of glee. The light of the moon flickered for a few moments through the mouth of the cave as the winds howled, moving drifts of snow across the threshold like wandering caravans.

Taking her hand in his, he shook and lingered on the warmth for a moment. He realized the placement of the ink after the agreement, eyeing hers in the shape of a paw pad. For now, his seemed to be likely attached a skin that was currently obscured by the motley of his armor.

"Ember, would you please help her with these wounds?" His emerald gaze shifted to his shoulder as the spirit stood up on its emblazoned legs. Ruffling through the lythari's long salt and pepper hair, the spirit withdrew another berry and swallowed it. Seeming to swell a bit, flaring up with light, it hopped down the barky plates of his armor like they were monstrous steps leading away from some enormous statue. And as it approached, it lifted its small hands and got to quick work.

Ere looked passed Beckett and into the darkness of the blizzard. "Its an angry one, this storm. It won't be easy to find our way out..." He had some thoughts on navigating out, but a communion would take time. "Is it safe to assume that you already knew my name...if so, I do not often go by it. I prefer Ere....pronounced like..." He flourished his fingers in the space between them. "Air."​

 

[Beckett]

Her back pushed against the rocky-wall she leaned against. Head tipped back and her eyes closed as blessed Ember did its work. There would still be scars. Those might take 50 years to fade if they did at all. Iron and fae mixed like oil and water. If she'd been in her own court, any kind of ranking she'd have with her family would've been taken away. And if they'd thought someone had given her these scars? Well, those offenses would've been punishable by death. Summer was a fae that looked at beauty, traditions, and nobility over everything else.

The eye like the fire-spirit itself cracked open, looking to the cave entrance.

It was a nasty one. Akio would forgive her. Eventually. Hopefully. The tiefling was rather resilient.

Cool eye finally opened as well, gaze settling on Air. Ere. Hand lifted, index finger tapping against her collar bone. "Beckett."

Head turned to the opening again as she dug inside her jacket, this time pulling out a flask of mint tea. Taking a sip, she offered it to the elf. "I'm sure we'll make it out," she said confidently. "And it seems as though you have folk that care about you very much. Neremyn of the Virvyre family." In fact, she knew his parents had hired a few to get him out. The ones that came before her had all failed.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He took the offered flask of tea and nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Beckett." He had his suspected that wasn't her birth name name but he was content to have whatever moniker she deemed appropriate. Though it was more than likely that he would continue using some form of little one for her. If not outright in addressing, then at the very least for his own internal thoughts.

Dropping his gaze back down to the scars on her feet, he sealed up the cask and handed it back over before offering a hand to ember. The spirit clapped its fiery hands together, content with the good work it had completed, and ascended the mans arm.

"No doubt." He stated quietly. "I'm sure they're champing at the bit to have me return home, remain excluded from the Fal'Addas, and retain our schism. I'll not have it." He shook his head as he plopped down on his rump, crossing his legs. "Not enough time in the world to carry my parents cudgel."

Too many years, eternities for some, spent in remembrance of old slights. Who was a true elf, who wasn't? It didn't matter anymore but the offenses born a thousand years ago could carry everlasting scars. An admonishment his parents wielded against him every time the wanderlust reared its head.

Ere was as much inclined towards reckoning and vengeance as the next firestarter, but he drew the line at petulance. ​

 

[Beckett]

Taking the tea back, she took another healthy sip before pocketing it. Toes stretched. Leaning over she looked at the bottom of her feet. "Not bad," she hummed, running her fingers beneath the scars. She began to tug back on the wool socks and boots.

Then she regarded the lythari and the fire spirit on his armor. Tempted to pocket that one. "Well," she drew. "I was hired to rescue you. Would appreciate it if you at least sent them proof of life or write them a letter so my name as a smuggler doesn't get tarnished."

Fingers brushed off the shoulder of her jacket, a half-grin on her face.

"I mean, I still have to rescue you but after we get off this frozen rock."

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

A fey that was a smuggler. He could have thought on that mixture of lineage and occupation, but as a bearded elf druid maester, he thought it best to not throw stones. Instead, he just nodded and pulled at the grey hairs of his mustache.

"I should be honest with you, Dilthen er. I think you deserve that much." He sighed. "I have not spoken to my parents in quite some time. A choice they made long ago, despite my warnings. Old grudges that they carry, and likely carry to this day. Until they decide to drop it and rejoin their original lineage, let bygones be bygones, I will not reward their stubbornness with acknowledgement of my presence."

He moved from rubbing his mustache to straightening out the beard on his chin. Despite the warmth they shared, it was still quite rigid from the bitter gold. "A bit of a puzzle that is. How to keep your reputation unblemished while also maintaining the value of my word."

He looked up to his shoulder. "What do you think, Ember?" The little spirit seemed to shake it's whole body in a slow movement before plopping down on the armored shoulder and crossing its legs. "Ah." He lifted his finger. "I will tell you a story from my childhood, one that only they would know. And when you confer that story to them, that will confirm my existence without ever having obliged them on their request."

He smiled, content with his decision, and proceeded to cross his arms. Once more, rubbing his chin. "Now what story..." Just then, his ears perked up as he turned towards the depth of the cavern. "We...might have company."​

 

[Beckett]

Head canted. Listening. Was it a cave troll? Perhaps a jabberwocky. Be best if it was just a pack of wild wolves or snow bear.

Or snowbunnies.

Standing and pleasantly surprised at the lack of pain on her feet, she grinned to Ere and the little fire spirit. Hand dipped into another inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small, straight sword. It had a rose-gold hue. And again, something that clearly should not have fit in a pocket.

He had life-sustaining berries in his beard. She had swords in her pocket. Seemed the same.

She took a step toward the deeper tunnels but paused, glancing at him. "Back into the storm or check out what might be coming?"

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Neither of the options seemed ideal. Though if they remained, one obstacle may push them into another. And the last thing they needed was having to take another stroll through the blizzard, driven only by whatever beast this was that was likely more equipped for the cold. But...it could be anything.

These lands were harsh ones, surrounded on all sides by the brutal desolate nature of the isles. Ice and snow, cutting cold, ensnaring on all sides. When he was malnourished and confined within the cold prison, he could do nothing but sense towards his own well being. But restored now by the fire of the Wandor Staff, something else lurked beneath the surface of this snow. Something that had either been changed by the cold or something that has always dwelt in it. It was like trying to find a snake, perfectly camouflaged and concealed within the deep furrows of a similarly colored tree.

"I don't think we are safe staying here..." He admitted as he stood back up, resting against the extinguished staff. Allowing his verdant gaze to shift down to her weapon, drawn from what he could assume was some magical space, his vision narrowed at the color of the weapon. "We should sort out what is down there...maybe the storm will have receded by then."

He suspected it wouldn't. But optimism felt safe enough. "Then we can discuss that story."​

 

[Beckett]

"Alright, well, stay behind me." Hard to say if she was worried about his well-being only for the form of payment that was to come or if it was something more. Light footsteps carried her confidently down the tunnel. She had no problem seeing in the dark.

But even so there was an odd shimmer of bioluminescence on the tunnel's ceiling. Some sort of organism she suspected. "You okay back there?" She whispered over her shoulder, sensitive ears never having stopped listening for his footfalls. While he'd had a certain amount of restoration with his staff, she still wondered on what his stamina level was considering how long he'd been in captivity.

The tunnel sloped and then dropped as it suddenly opened into a large cavern. With the bones of something long-since eaten.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

A smirk, nearly hidden beneath the salt and pepper, seemed to discretely show itself when told to stay behind her. It was difficult to tell the difference in true age between them and if he had to guess, Ere would have assumed she was older. But physically speaking, he wore the aging grace like another coat of his barkskin armor. He was far from incapable and the difference between who he was now and who he was in the confines of those cold steel bars might as well have spanned the distance between night and day.

He had no doubt that she was beyond capable. And while his history would say otherwise, he wasn't entirely in need of protection. "Oh, just enjoying the view." He responded as they came into the cavern and laid eyes upon the remains of something long gone. Icey blue coated earthen columns and sharp daggers of ice jutted out from stalagmites that stretched up towards the dark rocky ceiling. It was cold in this space, but absent the wind howling at the mouth of the cave, it felt a good deal warmer.

"I wonder if it died here on its own or if something else brought about this fate..." He whispered as he stepped passed Beckett and approached the monstrous pile of bones. As his feet pressed forward, he spied another series of bones. Creatures of all sizes and potentially origins, strewn about. Kneeling down, Ember leaped from his shoulder and moved slowly through the pile of bones. As if it were practicing its acrobatics on an obstacle course.

"There's is evil here, dilthen er...hiding in the cold." Another sound echoed through the cavern. It was hard to make out if it was the sounds of something stomping or the sounds of something cackling. Or maybe both.​

 

[Beckett]

Beckett watched Ember for a moment. The warmth in her eyes even making the blue one seem less frigid. A frown as she looked to Ere at the being’s sound. Had something come up from the Deep? A monster of the Drow.

“We should go. Yup. C’mon-,” she motioned with her sword as the cackle filled the cavern. A slithering sound of a spidery being.

“Feck,” she swore as the beast called in an ancient tongue.

“Foolisshhhh fae and elfffff. Such yummy magical snackssss. But small meat.” Multiple dark blue beady eyes filled one of the doorways. There was a whooshing sound and a sticky web was shot toward them.