Fable - Ask The Tides of Fate

[Kol]

Kol slipped into the waters only a second later, letting the heat wash over him.

For a few seconds his eyes folded shut, a breath drawing into him. The warmth was so foreign, so strange. Even on that island it had felt...off. Lips thinned for a brief moment, but his gaze flickered over towards Ruvsa as he moved over towards her.

"I am not sure if that would end with you as a hostage." He told her softly, his hand slowly rolling over himself to scrub away some of the grime that had collected upon it.

These people were...strange.

"We don't know enough to tell the truth, and finding out might be dangerous." Lips thinned for a brief moment as he submersed himself almost fully within the water. "There were all sorts of ships in the bay."

Unfortunately none of them had held the sails of a Nordwiir raiding party. It would have been easy enough to take one of them.

He mused out loud. "It may be easier to find an ally there than it is within the city."

Especially if they were more familiar with their people.

 

[Ruvsá]

"Being a hostage would mean I had some value," Ruvsá shrugged, then tugged one of Kol's hands away from where he was scrubbing at himself, and dumped a generous portion of soap from the bottle into his palm. "Sandalwood," she said, then laughed softly. "You won't smell like a flower. Just a tree."

As he spoke of the ships in the bay, she poured soap into her own palm and began gently scrubbing at the filth on her skin from her neck down. "The captain didn't say how we were to leave, other than by our own means. Finding passage on a ship shouldn't be terribly hard."

She finished scrubbing the parts of herself she could reach, then poured a little more of the sandalwood soap into her palm. "I wasn't kidding," she smirked, holding her hand out. "I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine."

As she waited for his answer, Ruvsá eyed the knife sitting at the edge of the tub. "We could sell that, surely," she murmured. "The gold is definitely worth something here, and the opal inlay might be. Whether it's melted down or sold in one piece doesn't really matter. It would probably be sufficient to buy us passage somewhere, we just need to look the part to own something that elegant."

It would take care of the issue, too, of not having Kol's 'gold' nuggets turn back to pebbles in the middle of their journey back to the Tundra.

 

[Kol]

Kol made a face at the mention of these 'soaps'.

Such things didn't really exist in the Lost Isles. One washed themselves with water and...well that was pretty much it. Sometimes snow had to do, but nothing and no one really had enough fat to render any sort of soap. Still, he didn't object.

He decided that arguing about such a small thing wasn't really worth it. Especially considering that there were far more important things to take care of. He slid his back towards Ruvsa, something he still found somewhat...strange.

If she were one of his own people, he would expect her to slit his throat.

Thankfully, she was not Nordwiir, and thus he allowed himself to relax just a little. "It's an option."

He agreed with a nod.

"First we find a ship, and a price." The Sorcerer offered. "Then we can look into finding that price."

Whether by selling the knife or another means.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá bit back a laugh as Kol scowled at the soap, but her smile was warm as he slid closer and turned around. She rubbed her hands together, lathering the soap, then gently smoothed her palms over his shoulders and down his back. She knew he was displaying a great amount of trust in that decision, and she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

As she listened to his words, Ruvsá continued to run her hands over his back, though after a few moments it was less to cleanse his skin, and simply to touch him. Her fingers traced over the various scars, curious for each story. She doubted that these ones were used to give the blood his Dark Gods demanded. It would have been too awkward to reach.

"I'm sure between the two of us, we'll manage whatever price a captain might ask for our fare," she murmured, cupping water in her hands to wash away the last of the suds on his shoulders and back. "Tonight, though... tonight we eat, and we rest."

She leaned close again, brushing her knuckles down his spine as she pressed a line of kisses up his shoulder before she smirked and gently sank her teeth into the side of his neck. Not deep enough to break skin, but hard enough that he'd feel the sharpness of her bite. She soothed the ache away with her tongue as a quiet laugh fell from her lips, then she retrieved the bottle of soap and pressed it into Kol's hand as she circled around to his front, her own back to him this time.

"Your turn," she said, tossing a teasing glance over her shoulder as she reached over and around her head to slide her hair over one shoulder and out of the way.

Her gaze fell on the knife again as she waited, the gold and opal hilt and sheath glinting in the light. She still wondered what the knife had been meant for, and she would be sad to let it go without learning more about it. But if it had to be done, then she would let it go. At least, this way, it would serve some purpose. Otherwise, it might have been locked away in that prison forever.

 

[Kol]

Kol felt the goosebumps raise on his skin as Ruvsa bit into his flesh. Lips thinned for a brief moment as he closed his eyes. A whisper threaded through his ears, fingers tightening beneath the waters for a brief moment as he took a breath.

Then she spoke again.

His eyes snapped open and he felt the water slosh about as she grabbed the bottle of soap and squeezed it into his hand. The Sorcerer looked down for a brief moment, then just smiled and offered her a nod. "One night is not a waste, I suppose."

He mused.

"Besides." Kol mused. "We might have opportunity to learn more about our host city."[/colro]

This place was still a massive enigma to them.

The Captain back at the Guard Barracks had mentioned "Emirs", and he was desperately interested in knowing who those men, or perhaps women, were.

Slowly Kol maneuvered himself so that he was at Ruvsa's back, his scarred and calloused hands slowly working the soap against her skin with a surprisingly soft touch. His fingers dug into her, dragging her closer to himself as he leaned forward to whisper. "Though I don't intend to do much resting."

 

[Ruvsá]

"The more we know the better," Ruvsá agreed. "If we could make some allies, instead of everyone being enemies, that would be helpful in the long run."

She sighed softly, relaxing into Kol's touch as he washed her back. He was always so gentle to start with, and she was curious if it was shyness or awe. It seemed like he'd never expected to experience any sort of intimacy, though judging from what he'd told her of the Nordwiir... he definitely hadn't desired to find a lover among his own kind.

When his fingers curled into her sides, dragging her back against him, she shivered and laughed as he whispered, then pressed firmly against him from hip to chest as she leaned her head back against his shoulder for a moment.

"I should hope not," she whispered back, settling her hands over his. She guided one hand across her stomach, settling his arm around her, and the other up to her chest. Lifting her head, she twisted just enough to catch his mouth with hers. Her kiss was soft for a moment, teasing his lips apart with her tongue before she nipped at his lower lip with her teeth, pulling away with a gentle tug before releasing him.

"Let me wash my hair," she murmured, but didn't actually move away from him yet. Her eyes were wide and shining with want, cheeks flushed. "Then we should see if our meal has been delivered yet."

 

[Kol]

"We should." Kol agreed with a nod of his head, fingers drawing over her flesh ever so softly.

It was an odd thing. Every time he touched her, every time his skin grazed against hers some of the voices spoke. They were different than those which he had heard all of his life. They still belonged to the Dark Gods, that much was sure.

They still begged him to slaughter, to kill, to do all the sacraments that they held dear. Yet it was a different sort of call. Lips thinned for a brief moment, but he drew them away as his hand slipped between the two of them and drew over her thighs.

"After." He contended. "A meal can always wait."

So what if it was a little cold?

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá grinned as Kol's hand slid under the water and down her thighs, but before he could wander too much, she gently pushed away and retrieved one of the other bottles of scented soap. Lavender this time, but she wouldn't force Kol to wash his own hair with it.

Her eyes flashed with amusement at his words.

"After?" she murmured, then carefully ducked her head under the water and wetting her hair again, then began to work the soap through it. "Depending on what they bring, there may not be any need to wait for food until after."

She bit her lip, face flushing a little as she thought of the many, many things she could still teach him, and she grinned again before she rinsed her hair. Then she slid back over to him and stretched up on her toes to kiss him again.

"Are you done bathing?" she asked when she pulled away. "It seems we have a busy night ahead. We should get started."

 

[Kol]

"We should." Kol agreed as his fingers wrapped around her before she could get too far away.

Giving into the Impulses of the Dark Gods was never as easy as one might assume. It was a constant fight not to simply let himself sway into their world. He knew what would come with that. The insanity that it might bring him in the end.

They always wanted more, they wanted death, they wanted blood. They wanted a madness that could not have been understood by most human minds. Kol gave it to them sometimes, but always there was a risk. Yet, he gave in now.

Offering his impulse as he and Ruvsa shared their evening together.

By the time dawn came the next day it would have been impossible to say whether Kol had been mauled by a bear or taken a woman to bed, though in this circumstances the two were not altogether different from each other.

A pleasant sort of din stuck to the morning, a quiet that one would not have found this early in most cities. Yet when Kol sat up in bed, he found no silence.

Only those quiet whispers.

 

[Ruvsá]

She'd noticed, from the beginning. The strange, distant look Kol would sometimes get in his eye, staring through her or just past her, at something she couldn't see. At first, Ruvsa would have said it was something that didn't exist, but by now she knew about his Dark Gods, and the power they held.

And while she was hesitant to embroil herself with them further, she could understand why Kol had. Why he did. She'd been powerless enough often enough in her life to know why he craved it so.

Ruvsá hoped that he could accomplish what he wanted, and lead his people out of the Lost Isles, and still be sane.

But still she took him to bed, and in the moments where her mind went nearly-blank with pleasure, she felt strange power coursing over her skin wherever his fingers touched her, and an almost burning heat if his touch drifted over the lines of her preske. When she finally fell asleep for a few hours before dawn, the voices she'd noticed back in the prison and on the isle were just a little clearer in her mind. A snatch of a word here and there, but still fading away if she tried to listen closer.

She probably shouldn't try.

Ruvsá roused when Kol sat up in bed as the first light of morning was creeping in the single window in the room. She noted, oddly, that there was no sound of foot traffic or bustling merchants outside, despite the light, but for now she just tucked the observation away.

She yawned and stretched, and looked over where Kol sat at the edge of the bed, smirking quietly at the new lines she'd scratched into his back.

"Good morning," she murmured. "What do you have in mind for our clothes?"

 

[Kol]

Kol cast a glance towards the scattered rags that lay on the floor of the hotel Suite. A frown touched his lips for a brief moment, his eyes flickering towards his palm.

A breath filled his lungs as he considered his answers, considering the dozens that he could give. This city was still foreign to them. They were strangers in a strange land, and the facts she had pointed out the night before still lingered within his mind. They had to tread carefully if they were to leave this place alive.

Despite what the whispers might have offered. ”Something...ordinary. For now at least.”

A part of him still wanted more. Wanted to know this city. Wanted to see what it had to offer. Yet he was bound. Bound by the rules he did not know. Bound by the morality of his companion. Lips thinned for a moment as he glanced back at Ruvsa for a moment.

Perhaps it was time to break one of those bindings, if only for a little while.

”Stay here for a bit.” Kol mused with a smile. ”I’ll fetch breakfast, and something for you to wear.”

The Nordwiir slowly stood from his place on the bed. It was time to do what he had done so many times before in the South. Times to let the Dark Gods whispers come true. No questions would need to be asked. No answers would be given. Not this time.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá sat up, the sheet sliding down her body to pool around her hips, taking a deep contented breath as she watched Kol gaze at the pile of their filthy clothing. Her sealskin boots should still be fine, but they were almost too warm for this place, but she would make do. The cloak she was loathe to lose, but she wasn't sure how to get a chance to clean it here, and she had already cut several inches off the hem. Everything else wouldn't be any significant loss.

"Ordinary would be best," she agreed, but was uncertain what quite to make of the look he gave her.

When Kol smiled a moment later, her stomach twisted a little at the strange hunger hidden in the depths of his eyes. But she just nodded when he said to wait there, and she watched quietly as he left the room. She almost mentioned the passport, but thought perhaps that if he were caught doing something, it would be best if he was not attached to her, though the paper didn't have their names. And likely, if he were caught, his Dark Gods would have a way to extricate him from the situation anyway.

Whenever Kol returned, he would find her freshly bathed again and sprawled naked on the floor before the fire, hair spread out to dry. One hand was propped under her head to support her neck, and with the other she held the obsidian knife aloft, eyeing it with a studious gaze as she shifted it back and forth, gold and opals glinting in the firelight.

 

[Kol]

"The way you're studying that knife." Kol's voice rang out as he stepped through the door, his clothes completely changed and a pack carried over his shoulder. "You'd think you're getting ready to spill someones blood."

A smile pulled across his lips as the door closed behind him.

Nordwiir women were known for their violence, particularly towards those that they had interest in. Perhaps Nordenfiir were not too far removed from his people after all. A small chuckle pulled through his throat, and slowly he stepped towards Ruvsa.

Slowly the Sorcerer placed the pack onto the table, wandering across the room until he stood over Ruvsa. He squatted down besides her.

He now wore leathers once more, heavy on his shoulders though fitted well. The style was different than those he'd worn previously, clearly made by someone within this city.

"I ran into some luck." Kol said as he ran his knuckles over her cheek. "I got you what some of the local women wear."

He told her. "But there's enough coin that you can get more."

Kol did not say where he got that coin from.

"And I learned more of this place." More than he had expected really.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá grinned up at Kol, a melodic laugh escaping her at his comment. Despite the uncertainty of the next few days she was, truly, the most relaxed she'd been in... weeks. Possibly the most relaxed she'd been since the early days with Aggar, before she'd learned he was a traitor.

"As if I need the knife to do that," she purred. "I have teeth and claws, after all."

Her gaze shifted back to the knife for a moment, though. "It's a terrible fighting knife," she commented. "Obsidian blades are incredibly sharp, but they dull with just a few cuts. This one didn't have the look of ever being used before it was packed away in that trunk. But it's..."

She paused, unsure of how to say it. "It's connected to that island, I think. Somehow. After all of this... if we don't have to sell it or melt it down, I'd like to take it back there. See what I can find out... where it leads me."

In the tundra, land could be claimed by those who could tame it. While that island might have been viewed, peripherally, as part of the Kingdom of Nordengaard, since the Nordenfiir had not actually inhabited it the island was free for the claiming. And ever since that first night, by the fire, when they'd laughed about her claiming dominion of that island, the knife's presence had burned hot in her mind, only increasing the further they went from that place.

She sheathed the knife and set it aside as Kol crouched down beside her, though, her smile softening as he stroked her cheek.

"Ran into luck?" she asked, raising a brow as she sat up, investigating his changed appearance, "or made some luck?"

She pulled her feet in and shifted to her knees, leaning forward to swiftly kiss Kol before settling a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she stood. "It's little things like that, by the way," she said, reaching up to tap her a finger against her cheek where he'd brushed his knuckles, "that will convince them out there that we're actually married. Gentle touches. Holding hands. Gravitating toward each other as if we don't want to be out of each other's sight."

At least, so long as this place didn't have any laws in place against public affection, but hopefully that was one of the things he'd learned while he was out.

Ruvsá eyed the pack he'd returned with, but more than the clothes... "You promised me breakfast," she said, turning back with a slight pout. "And you should tell me what you learned."

 

[Kol]

"It's on the way." Kol explained with a brief smile.

The Nordwiir could really only carry so many things at once, and it had been easy enough to slip the innkeeper a few actual coins to make sure that they got the meals that they deserved. A place like this thrived on it's reputation, ensuring that it's customers were happy. Besides, for all the woman knew they were as wealthy as could be.

His shoulders rolled for a moment in answer to the creation of his 'luck', Kol deciding that he did not truly need to answer. A question like that was sometimes better left hanging in the air.

Her lessons however were taken in with a brief nod, committed to memory for the future. The Dark Gods whispered to him, spoke of another way of fitting in, but he ignored it. "This place is called Xerath."

Kol explained.

"It is ruled by a council of seven Emir's, each one with their own interest." He leaned back on his haunches for a moment. "Slavery is a part of society here, but in a strangely different form than I've seen before."

The Sorcerer frowned. "Once you are captured you are slave for a year and a day. When that time is up you are given a stipend and place to live, from there you may forge your own path."

Though apparently it was not always that simple.

"Those armored men are ogres, apparently." He said the name with a frown.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá smirked when Kol rather pointedly didn't answer her remark about making his luck, but didn't press the issue. It had been more an observation than a question, anyway. As he spoke, she leaned against the wall by the fireplace, absentmindedly combing her fingers through her hair, working out any tangles that had developed as it dried.

"Xerath," Ruvsá quietly repeated the name, letting its strange sounds tumble through her mind. "This city?"

When he spoke of the Emirs, she just nodded. Similar, likely, to the jorns who were the head leadership of the Nordenfiir villages. She shuddered a little when he said slavery was a part of society, but it was to be expected. It was so in many countries and societies around Arethil.

"I would really rather not to trapped here for a year and a day as a slave," she murmured as she finished combing through her hair. "Especially with the... tricks you've pulled so far."

Even with as little as they knew about Xerath and the Isles of Sheketh, Ruvsá was certain that forging coin or gold was not considered a lesser crime. It never was. Even in Nordengaard, where they didn't use a specific currency, attempting to pass off fake gold as real gold would earn the Queen's wrath.

"Ogres?" she asked, raising a brow in surprise. "Are they also the catchers we have to watch for, then?"

She crossed the room to the table, then, and opened up Kol's pack, curious about the clothing he'd acquired. While she would have preferred something more like his leathers, she hadn't seen any women wearing anything like that as they traipsed through the city the day before, and their goal now was to blend in.

Ruvsá's fingers met fabric that was soft and cool to the touch, and she pulled it out with an eager smile. Half the reason she hadn't bothered to even drape herself in a sheet was that Sheketh was too damned hot. As she unfolded the fabric, her brow furrowed.

She expected it to unfold into some sort of shape, likely a gown or dress. But this was just... a very long length of fabric, almost sheer, the color of dark wine with a wide black borders along each edge, and she looked over at Kol with a confused expression.

"Are you sure you asked for women's clothing and not the supplies to make women's clothing?" Ruvsá asked, helplessly holding the fabric up off the floor.

 

[Kol]

"No, they seem to be...something else." Kol said as he referred to the Ogres, a slight frown flickering across his lips. He had not gotten much detail, unfortunately, but it seemed that the Ogres were something of an elite soldier class.

They would not lower themselves to catching slaves, or that was what the man had said as death had claimed his tongue.

For a few seconds he considered, then added. "I believe when the time comes for that, we'll have to deal with the captain and his Ilk."

The Ashen skinned Elves.

That was apparently the dominant people of this city. They held a name which Kol could not pronounce, and he would not try to do so now. Slowly the Nordwiir made his way over towards the corner of the room, sitting himself down in a large plush chair.

A smile flickered over his lips as Ruvsa unfurled the massive length of cloth, his eyebrow raised and a chuckle escaped his throat.

He had asked the woman at the shop to provide him with the common dress of the wealthy, but this...this was not what he had expected. His head turned in a small shake, and he looked over towards Ruvsa with a shrug.

"I believe it might be time to call on the servants." Kol said with a chuckle. "We are wealthy after all, dearest wife."

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá scowled at the fabric, then glared at Kol for a moment when he chuckled. Just as she opened her mouth to make some sort of retort, a knock sounded at the door. Ruvsá turned toward it, calling out "Come in!"

She assumed it was the breakfast that Kol had mentioned, but if it wasn't, she was certain between her abilities and his, they could handle any threat. And most threats didn't knock.

Fortunately, it was breakfast, and Ruvsá sighed with relief when the tray was carried in by another woman. The servant blushed slightly at the sight of Ruvsá standing next to the table completely naked, but she didn't notice. This time, Ruvsá looked closely, examining the woman's garb as the food was set on the table, and her head tilted thoughtfully as she realized that the servant's apparent dress also seemed to be one length of fabric.

"Ah, mistress?" the young woman asked, her Common speech thickly accented. "Is the food satisfactory?"

Ruvsá blinked, then glanced at the table. "Ah, yes, it's fine," she said, barely even noticing what was there. "But I need you to show me how to wear this." Ruvsá held up the length of cloth draped across her arms.

"Aaah," the servant nodded understandingly, then held out her arms to take the cloth. "May I, then? Go stand in the center of the room."

Ruvsá did as directed, throwing a helpless look at Kol where he sat. The servant was measuring the length of the fabric and eyeing Ruvsá's form a critical gaze. "There's enough here for a simple drape," the servant said. "One that won't be too complicated for you to remember."

The servant stepped closer, spreading the cloth neatly on the floor. "Is it all right if I touch you, mistress?"

Ruvsá nodded, and then listened and watched carefully as the woman began to wrap and knot and tuck the fabric around her. "There are more elaborate ones than this," the servant said as she finished, draping the final length of cloth over Ruvsá's shoulder. "With many pleats and tucks, and more fabric. Go look in the mirror, and tell me if you're pleased with it."

Ruvsá bit her lip, and stepped over to the mirror. Her head told her that surely it would all come sliding off of her as soon as she moved, but surprisingly it stayed in place without a single pin or stitch being used. She swayed and twisted in front of the mirror, the most girlish Kol had probably seen her act so far, and a small, satisfied smile crossed her lips.

The dark wine color complimented her skin well, and she liked that the borders were black and not something overly flashy like gold or silver. The fabric had been knotted around her hips, draped once and tucked in place, then brought up around her back to wrap twice around her bosom, then settled loose over one shoulder. There was... quite a bit more skin showing than she ever would have displayed in the tundra, but that was because bare skin--even for the Nordenfiir--could mean frostbite.

"It's fine," she murmured, though she did tug the lower edge of part of the fabric covering her chest just a little lower, to see if she could hide her preske a little more. Ruvsá glanced back to the servant. "Thank you. That will be all for now."

The servant bowed her head to both Ruvsá and Kol, then left the room.

"Shall we eat?" Ruvsá said, still looking at herself in the mirror, and wondering how the dress didn't just fall down. It was, though, far more comfortable than her woolen garb, especially for the warmer climate. And she would, at least, be able to tuck the knife in at the waist, where the loose end would conceal it.

"Are we visiting the docks first, to find a ship?" she asked as she seated herself at the table.

 

[Kol]

It would have been a lie if he'd said the entire process wasn't amusing.

During half of it Kol was trying not to laugh, the other half he was simply resting his face in his hand with a smile plastered across his features. His eyes closed a few times when it became too much, but eventually the servant finished, and Ruvsa practically danced in front of the mirror.

"Food first." He mused out loud, watching her as she seated herself down at the table.

His form leaned back in his chair.

"I think just going to the docks here would be considered..." Kol frowned deeply. "Strange."

There was a way about these people, and The Sorcerer had not quite yet been able to figure it out. Many of the guards seemed to hold their own sorts of loyalties, and he could have sworn that half of those ashen elves had their own plots running.

The Dark Gods whispered about it, the intentions of them.

It seemed when they came to schemes these folk were almost as bad as his own. It was a quality that most would have used as a mark against them, but Kol knew better than that. "We have a few more days here yet."

The Sorcerer said with a smile.

"Might as well enjoy it." While the cards were dealt.

 

[Ruvsá]

Most of the food was recognizable, though Ruvsá hesitantly bit into a strange-looking fruit, but gave a quiet, pleased hum at the sweet taste. There was meat and eggs as well, which she helped herself to plenty of, but she left the toast alone.

Kol made no move to join her at the table, and her eyes narrowed as he spoke.

"So instead of going ourselves, we send a messenger," she mused. "But you're scheming something and not telling me. We had this discussion once in the prison already. Don't leave me out."

Her eyes darkened then, for as much as she enjoyed his company--both in and out of bed--she suspected if his Dark Gods demanded it of him, he would turn on her, if he felt he had no other option.

"What is it you want here?" she asked. "What do you hope to gain?"

 

[Kol]

"Gain?" Kol mused on the words.

It wasn't exactly the right way to describe it. His motives had not changed an ounce from what he'd told her back on the island. They never would. The Dark Gods might whisper in his ears, but it did not change who he was. What he wanted.

The only reason he'd been secretive was to keep his homicidal plan to himself. A man had died for the knowledge he'd gained. His death had been quick, and his body had been raptured just a few seconds later. No trace would fall on him, and he doubted Ruvsa would have cared about his passing.

Yet it paid to be careful.

"I like this world beyond my own. Beyond ours." Beyond the Tundra, the Lost Isles. "I like knowing, seeing. Understanding."

He liked having context for the whipsers in his head. Completing the little puzzles that the Dark Gods set out for him. It brought him satisfaction and opportunity. "I seek what I always have. A place for my people."

Though he did not think this city was it.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá felt a little foolish. She wasn't trying to bait Kol, but his answers seemed so simple. It wasn't him she was leery of so much as his gods, but she realized that the tactics she was used to were... useless in that case.

"Forgive me," she said with a quiet laugh as she finished the last of her food. "I know there are... aspects of your worship" --the word felt strange in her mouth, as someone who barely adhered to the sanctioned religion of her people-- "that you're protecting me from. I thought I'd begun to leave behind the habits and concerns I developed when I was with Aggar. But apparently the tendency to distrust is... something that will take longer to overcome."

Kol truly had not given her a reason to suspect that he would harm her. If anything, she realized... it was herself she distrusted. Despite all her training, she'd been so young--was still, really--and inexperienced when she accepted Aggar's courtship. She'd been so wrong, and she was terrified of being wrong again.

She shoved those thoughts aside, though, and stood. The only way she would overcome her past was to keep living. She retrieved her sealskin boots--while they would be overly warm, she wanted sturdy shoes on her feet in case she needed to use them properly--and slipped them back on, then retrieved the obsidian knife and tucked into her waistband where it would be hidden beneath the length of cloth draped over her shoulder. She twisted and twirled again in front the mirror, this time checking the knife stayed hidden throughout her movements, and gave a satisfied nod a few minutes later.

Her eyes fell on the written passport from the captain which permitted, she assumed, the two of them to move through the city with relative freedom for now, and she frowned for a moment. Then she grabbed it, folded it neatly, and tucked it between the layers of fabric wrapped around her breasts.

"Come," she said, holding out a hand to Kol with smile. "You said you liked knowing and seeing. Then let's go out there and see what we can learn the regular way: with our eyes and ears."

 

[Kol]

Kol considered her palm for a moment.

Though he had never said it out loud, the corporeal at times seemed...faded. Through the Dark Gods Kol had seen so much, had come to understand much more than any mortal could have. Their guidance had brought him strength, power.

Eyes and ears seemed so paltry at times. Like an echo of a life that he could have lived.

That didn't make the temptation any less. The idea of mortality, of seeing things through the body the still wore now. Fingers tightened at his side for a brief moment.

He knew he was not making a decision. Knew that nothing would really change. The voices would always be there. The Impulse would always lay within. There was no doubting that fact, no changing it whether he wanted to or not.

Excising the Dark Gods would kill him, that much he was certain of.

After a moment he reached out and placed his hand on hers. "Suppose we could."

He said with a smile.

It might be more fun to do it that way. There would certainly be less screaming.

 

[Ruvsá]

For a moment, Ruvsá faltered. Kol watched her silently, and she wondered if he was offended by what she'd said, but then she realized that he was... more uncertain than upset.

So she left her hand extended, waiting.

She returned his smile when he slid his hand into hers, and she tugged him toward the door.

"Let's see what Sheketh has that might tempt us," she said, shutting the door behind them, and looping her arm through his as they descended the stairs. She nodded courteously to the innkeeper as they stepped out the main entrance. Nervously, she smoothed her unbound hair over her bare shoulder, but otherwise gave no indication of any discomfort.

"Where shall we start?" she asked as they merged with the foot traffic on the streets. It wasn't as busy as it had been the afternoon before when they'd arrived, but the day was young. "The market? Or shall we just wander and see where the road takes us?"

Either was fine with her. The market would give them insight into what the common people were like... wandering the streets would help them learn the layout of the place.

 

[Kol]

"The Market." Kol decided without much thought.

There was always something to learn when it came to ordinary folk, more than with the wealthy and many others. It was a fact that Kol had come to understand long ago, when he'd first been guided by the Dark Gods to use the Portal Stone.

When it came to getting a feeling for a city, it was not the wealthy elite that would help you understand. It was those that spent their days in the much, those who wandered and walked the streets as they did every day of the week.

As they walked through the streets towards the markets Kol kept a quiet eye on everything around them. He was watchful, careful, but leaned into Ruvsa as she had explained to him. "Look."

He motioned to one of the stalls, strange volcanic rocks lining dozens of silken sheets.

Their color was extraordinarily brilliant, shining with a light that seems to flow through the center at a constant pace. Like magma in the stone itself.