Closed Deepness

[Makt]

The northeast of aelheim. It was not exactly where he wanted to be. Really, he would have much preferred to stay in Græntún and make playthings of the faelnir there. But, work was work and if he didn't do his job then his life would be forfeit. He was a slave, even if he was given more freedoms than most in his position.

Any sane human with his abilities might have thought it prudent to flee, but one did not flee the aelves. And if they did, what was the point? Makt's teachings had told him that there was nothing worth visiting outside of the forest. To the north was an unforgiving desert where nothing survived, after all. And to the south, that was all just ocean.

He found himself in an odd mood as he contemplated the teachings and travelled through the forest. He was looking for some herbs that grew in the area that his master wanted to add to his garden. He was not particularly good at finding them, but then again he had a feeling that his master just wanted to send him to do some busy work. Surely if the aelf wanted, he could have simply asked some of his aelven friends to provide any plant he wished.

He grumbled and complained to himself, but it wasn't all bad. He was dressed in steel armor that was colored black and looked quite fancy, given it was crafted by Abraia. He had a spear in his hand as well, though he didn't really know how to use it. He used it more like a walking stick than a weapon.

273 wc

 

[Khafra]

Fall 10th, 124

With a running start, Khafra dove off the ledge of a perilous cliff. Holding the nape of his Familiar, together they Soared by the auspices of Zephyr, propelling themselves at great speeds through the gentle world of Aeris' touch; a Jin'Norai, it did not even make a mess of his hair, unkempt and wild though it had been.

That was hours ago, in an effort to cross the great forests of the Aeld'Norai and aim for the lesser forested hills beyond. All to attain a rare herb for a Rakshasa who lorded over him a piece of damning and embarrassing blackmail. After this, he had errands to run in the Ur'Duun, and old friends to offer his aid to.

What a bother it all was.

He knew not the geography well. He only clutched a crude map and a drawing of the herb in his hands. Seeing a good place in the foothills, he stooped well low and collided with the ground.

"We are no herbalists. We will be lucky to even find the herb, but it grows beneath the tall Parasol, like those of the Ur'Duun," Khafra spoke through his mind to the large, blue creature at his side; a mix of cat and dog whom was his equal in might. For the afternoon they searched high and low for the Parasol, yet they found no herb until the night set, and the flora began to glow with a soft blue light.

Wading through the dark and fending off the haunting thrashing of beasts, they found what they were looking for beside a game trail beneath a bright and spider-y looking mushroom who's underside was like a hundred wriggling spider legs. Not wishing to risk the wrath of a foreign people, he delicately popped up the earth beneath the plant with a coil of his finger and a flare of his Terra. "Come, come along now, Geomena, and give to me your friend the roots."

Pulling it up into his hand, Khafra stood and peered over the herb before his Familiar heard the noise of trudging footsteps in the distance. "Do you hear that? Something on two feet this way comes, ooooh. An Aelf of Aelheim come to admonish you, perhaps?"

He knew better than to stay; confronting the Aeld'Norai would be a dangerous affair, and yet, he longed to see what they were like. "Hail! Have I given offense to thee, taking of nature?" Khafra called through the ethereal forest of haunting hues. "I could replant the herb and be gone without a hassle." Squeezing his palms, he held the need to defend himself at the tips of his fingers, knowing full well Luxium would be his friend here.

Holding aloft the herb- the very herb Makt was looking for- Khafra gave no threats.

Seated next to Khafra was his Familiar- nearly as tall as Khafra when sitting obediently in that manner- who was similarly poised with a gathering sense of conflict on its tongue.

 

[Makt]

A chill ran down Makt's back when he heard the voice. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have been surprised that he'd been heard. He was dressed for battle, though so far he hadn't been attacked. It was usually enough for him to gently soothe the emotions of aggressive animals but not every conflict could be solved so easily.

Makt moved through the brush he saw an aelf holding an herb. There was an animal that looked unlike one he'd ever seen before at his side – some sort of cat/dog hybrid that looked to be the size of a person.

That made two brown aelves that he'd met in such a short period of time. The last one had tried to have him suicide into a raging bear, so his opinion of them wasn't exactly great… but then again the aeld'norai asked him to do that on a regular basis as well. At least this one seemed more polite.

Makt waved, recognizing the herb to be one of the ones he was after. "No need for formalities, I'm just a faelnir," he'd say with a sigh, as if his rounded ears didn't make that obvious. "You haven't offended me, in any case. I assume I'm here for the same reason you are – to gather herbs. That's a good one you've got. Keep it."

If the aelf had been human, Makt might have thought to fight for it, but he was led to believe that aelves were like gods, so what was the point? He'd plunge his spear into the ground and lean on it while glancing around at the nearby ground. It appeared that the herb the aelf held was the only one in sight.

"Say, if you're looking for herbs, maybe I could interest you in a trade?" he asked, holding up the bag of herbs he'd gathered. "I'm curious to learn more about you and your people. And also about that pet of yours – I assume you found it somewhere outside of the forests?"

It was a gamble, since the aelf could simply demand the herbs and Makt would comply… but Makt's magically enhanced brain was hungry for knowledge.

633

 

[Khafra]

When the figure who came upon them lacked the pointed ears and decidedly Aelven traits- and he seemed to lack hostility- a paradoxical sense of relief and disappointment washed over Khafra and Nurael in equal measure. However, he could sense through the being a heightened and rare sense of profound Aether, Aeris, and Imber; despite Makt's humility, he reasoned they were very likely to be a mage of some kind, and if not they certainly possessed the potential.

Holding out the herb and looking over it, Khafra smiled. "Is that so? I can barely tell, every plant in this forest looks so strange to me- bless you- in a manner suitable to your own gods, of course."

Khafra knew the Aelves kept humankind as slaves and that they were a xenophobic lot, though he knew not the name of the Faelnir. His studies on the Aelves in general were rather lacking.

Raising his brow at the bag, Khafra reasoned that some of the herbs in that pouch gathered by a local must be of use- and that one of them would be the correct herb he was searching for. He couldn't be sure the one he had was even the right one. "Very well," he said, and with a wave of his palm he raised for them each a stool of smooth, clean slate from the soil to sit upon.

Sitting next to them, Nurael leaned in and spoke. "The name of my master is Khafra," he said in a melodic purr, relishing the shock of someone who did not expect him to speak.

"And this is Nurael, my Familiar," said Khafra. "And you are?"

. . .

"I am one of the Jin'Norai, student of Arcanis; a nation, and a university deep beyond the deserts of the far east where the Aelves of Zephyr Soar. I am also Nahualli to the Dwarves of the Ur'Duun, and a prominent Galsterei," the blonde man stated as if these titles would mean anything to the Aelf-dimmed mind.

He crossed a leg over his knee. "To explain further Nurael's existence, there exists a ritual where a Mysticist might extract from their dreams upon Arcadia a creature of their fantasy, a reflection of the soul which therefore learns to share and grow through a bond. The vagaries of this are difficult for me to articulate; it has been so long… and it is a personal journey to achieve this, though I am sure even a Human as you might achieve such a thing with dedication."

"Human, are you a slave?" Nurael asked bluntly. Khafra did not bother to reprimand him.

434

 

[Makt]

"Heh," Makt said in reply, "I suppose it all can get confusing. I have a hard enough time finding what I need even if I know where to look. I usually have someone help me with this sort of thing, but, well, she's busy." Gods forbid he finish his task at a reasonable pace.

Makt looked down at the earthen creation then sat on it. Just as he was going to open his mouth, the familiar spoke. The faelnir's jaw dropped and his brows furrowed. A talking animal just didn't make any sense. The things that Khafra spoke off didn't make much sense either – nearly everything challenged his entire worldview.

"Erm, nice to meet you, Khafra. My name is Makt."

Then, there was Nurael's question.

"Yes," Makt admitted after a few moments of thought, though he was not exactly unhappy with his status. It was hard to complain when everyone else's life was so much worse than his own.

"I suppose an outsider would view someone like me in that way. I work for no wages, but my master runs a successful business and allows me to make purchases to make my job easier. But we have good lives here. By the grace of the Aeld'norai we have no need to worry about food or disease. We live our lives in devotion of them so that one day we may reincarnate as one of them."

Makt spoke casually, as if explaining something that everyone already knew. Then, he decided to prod at Khafra's claims. He felt it excusable to be a little apprehensive when this Jin'Norai was preaching falsehoods.

"You say that you are a student? I find it hard to believe that there are any universities in the desert. How does one even survive in such a place? And Mysticists… We call them Shamans here. I had no idea they were capable of forging such a bond… I will need to look into these maters to verify them when I get back home."

He rubbed his chin curiously while tossing the bag of herbs nonchalantly with his other hand. Suddenly his education making less and less sense. If he were to believe this aelf, then at least some of what he was taught had been false.

He paused, then tossed the herbs to Khafra. He carefully guided it with a careful gust of wind so that it would land in Khafra's lap. He then turned his head back to Nurael and asked, "what about you? Are you a slave?"


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