[Closed] Gravesong

[Ezre Vks]

vks household, kzecka

dawn on the 26th of Achtus, 2719

Tuhir's comfortably deadpan expression didn't falter while he watched Lilanee and his child while he began to eat, but his dark eyes warmed noticeably at their private, unspoken conversation put on public display. As Hexxos, as committed and willing spouse to a raen, there was little margin for actual commentary from the older man on the spiritual practices of Gioran galdori and their passive population. Death in all its forms, natural or unnatural, willing or unwilling—Tuhir wasn't ignorant. His jaw clenched briefly, on the edge of offering more of an explanation, though it was not a Hoxian's nature to feel any need to apologize.

"I would not expect you two to see the world in the same way. I am sure that you both struggle with finding footing on what little stable ground you share between you, Brunnhold studies notwithstanding."

Ezre's eyes widened and any color that had already graced his delicate cheeks deepened, even if he kept himself from revealing all that bubbled and writhed within him at his father's words from playing out across his face. He stared at Tuhir for a moment, quite aware of all he'd talked with his father about in Roalis, in all they'd shared further quiet, early morning conversation with while performing their duties together, side by side since he'd arrived.

The young Guide could have said more, could have found reason to continue this conversation, enjoyable and familial, strange and clearly leaving more to be explored, but even though the sun wasn't meant to rise this time of year, he knew they had travel to get started on before any more snow decided to fall. He enjoyed—perhaps too much, really—how his parents and extended family members had thus far chosen to interact with his foreign guests with the kind of quiet respect that he'd hoped they would, aware that there were plenty of his people here in Kzecka who most likely didn't approve of their intrusion, even if one of them was a raen.

Slowly, reluctantly, Ezre steered the conversation away from evolutionary theory and natural selection of whatever species trickled into the russet brunette's mind at this moment toward their leaving instead, but the thought of travel dragged his own thoughts to their safety, which in turn reminded him of his favorite feral, furry friend. He did let a brief flash of a smile crease its way into his still-warm face,

"Very large, zjai. Adja is one of the larger females in the pack—perhaps taller at the shoulders than if you were to to ride on mine." Tuhir chuckled at that, and both Hexxos endured the Hessean's thoughts and animal facts,

"I have heard there were once sub-species of huthah in both Mugroba and the Northern Tors of Anaxas. Perhaps even in the mountains of Gior or even in the kingdoms lost in the West, but they are all extinct as far as we know. Rare, even here."

Ezre nodded, stacking their empty soup bowls and plates onto one of the trays he'd served them on. For a moment, it looked as though he had every intention of cleaning up before he left, but his otsur shook his head at his child's lingering fingers on the tray, letting him know he was dismissed from such a duty. The younger Vks did take a cloth napkin from the table and stack two pieces of grilled fish from the pile of pieces he'd broiled for their breakfast, folding it up and tucking it into the thick layers of his clothes meant to endure the frigid weather outside,

"Let us go, then." The young Guide stood, making sure to bow with obvious affection toward Tuhir, tilting his head in the direction of the large entranceway where their travel gear and more warm layers were waiting to be put on, "I will not let us be gone more than two days, otsur. If we are not home by the third and I have not contacted you or the weather is not foul, then please come looking."

"Two days, Ez'ia. Do not worry." The older Hoxian assured both of them, waving them off with a nod and an expression that was almost a smile. Almost.

Ezre paused long enough to better distribute all he'd packed for them both to carry, making sure to glance up at Lilanee mischievously as he did so, as if attempting to tease her with how he'd listened. He'd then help her dress in a heavier coat, even offering to tie the boots she'd been leant that had special treads for the snow, treads that also allowed for the tying on of snowshoes. Making sure she was well-bundled but still mobile in the well-made, carefully lined layers, he'd then dress himself with practiced ease before hefting her pack on her shoulders.

Lifting his and making some final adjustments, he tossed two pairs of snowshoes over his pack and handed her a pair of poles he'd explained would most likely be needed for climbing. Scarves, gloves, and wool-knit hats later, they were both as ready as one could be for the Hoxian winter below-freezing weather outside in the dark.

Pausing in the threshold, the dark-haired student brought his hands together and bowed his head, first facing the interior of his warm home, praying a very clear, simple blessing on their journey and their weather in Deftung, addressing familiar gods by name. Then he shouted loudly, almost as if it was another ritual in itself,

"We will return soon!"

To which he heard his father's voice from the cozy dining room,

"We will be waiting!"

Ezre flashed a grin from behind his scarf and shoved open the thick, heavy doors, one set and then another, to lead the pair into the housing compound's courtyard, deep cold immediately clawing at their faces, trying to rip through their layers. It stung their eyes. It burned their lungs. It wasn't unbearable for the Hoxian, who'd been raised in the northernmost kingdom, tucked away in these mountains, but he knew it must've been such a shock to Lilanee every time,

"It is a little hike outside of Kzecka proper before we will find the huthah. This way." He led them from the housing complex, tucked as it was against a dark stone cliffside, carved against its surface to provide a windbreak. He trudged down steps that meandered through the high, snow-coated walls of the communal living neighborhood, leaving a trail of steamy breath and hearing another series of chimes ring out in the frigid air, marking the time.

Above them, the clear skies were so heavy with stars, the perfect, unobstructed view made that much more amazing by a continued lack of daylight. The streets were lit by phosphor, littered with little shrines with candles and lanterns kept lit all day by various acolytes. He led them both through part of the artisan district, catching glances from glassblowers and metalworkers, gaining them a small following of red-cheeked children who were too young for school or work. Three bundled, giggling shadows trailed them as far as the large stone archway that marked one of the gates.

There were no Karmine in the city of temples and bells. There wasn't a contingent of people who were trained to serve as protectors—everyone was expected to know some form of self- and communal defense, everyone shouldered the burden on a rotating basis. Even then, the two young women huddled around a crackling fire at the gate, playing a game with dice and a small lacquered box glanced up and nodded instead of asked questions, their gentle caprises the only formalities exchanged because this place was so isolated, so remote, that they'd not faced any real threat in hundreds of years.

A path had been hewn into the thick snow that almost towered over their heads, leading upward from the gate in a tunnel until they crunched their way to the surface of it, standing amid a starlit landscape that was full of harsh contrast: black rocks, white snow, towering mountains and lofty temples carved into their spires. The wind whipped snow into sprays, strong and so very cold,

"This way," Ezre paused to get his bearings, to align himself by memory and landmarks. The snow was packed here, thick enough to walk on safely—it'd been falling for months, after all. Perhaps he'd overpacked, the dark-haired student considered, feeling the weight of everything now settled on his shoulders, but he wanted to be prepared both for their hike, their exploration, and, most importantly, their return trip home, "toward those foothills. The pack keeps a den there, though they must venture down into the valleys south of here to even hunt."

They crunched away from Kzecka, the temple-city bustling with prayer and study in the winter darkness, and across smooth, windswept curves of ice and snow. Theirs were the only noticeable footprints in this direction, and while the foothills seemed far away at first glance, some trick of the curve of Vita this far north made it a surprisingly shorter distance than expected.

As they drew closer, the young Guide stopped again, fumbling through too many layers with a hiss, forced to tug a glove off with his teeth so his fingers could reach for the fish he'd shoved into his clothing before leaving,

"You are a stranger to them. We will have to be careful. If we are lucky, vre'ia, only Adja will come. If there are too many, hopefully they will accept you. I brought some bribery for their friendship." Ezre smiled, struggling to get his glove back on once he passed the wrapped parcel to Lilanee. Then he cupped the cold leather to his cheeks, scarf down, and called out a series of sounds that weren't quite like the howls of a banderwolf. They were deeper, perhaps difficult for someone who hadn't learned them alongside Deftung, who hadn't learned them when young, and the rumbling song-like notes drifted on the wind, disappearing into it.

Waiting for a few moments, just long enough to think they weren't to be answered, Ezre stepped a little closer to the russet brunette, brushing shoulders with the young woman, huddling against the wind together.

From somewhere in the rocks, a cry answered. It was a deep bass noise, gravely but not quite a bark, followed by a series of yips and baritone whines from different places. Loping from somewhere in the half-buried rocks came a single creature—thankfully—apparently summoned by the dark-haired student's voice. The Hoxian was grinning despite the fact that the spinewolf was at least six feet tall at it's shoulder, long and lithe, pure white in the winter darkness. Almost like a mane in fan-like rows were large ivory spines, and thankfully, they were currently not bristling in a threatening manner. If they had been, the longest spines would have been almost ten inches, sharp and thin but just as dangerous as her teeth,

"Adja!" He shouted, raising his hand and holding it out, stepping between the large creature and the Hessean, "She has smelled you before. In Roalis, I—well. Perhaps you noticed you were missing a uniform blouse."

The huthah was rushing, moving so fast, but then it slowed to a more cautious gait, stopping to snort and sniff the air, bright blue eyes shifting to the russet brunette while its breath drifted in clouds,

"That fish will perhaps be a little motivation."

[Lilanee Kuleda]

Achtus 26th, 2719
KZECKA | DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW?

Lilanee all but bit her lip to stop herself from picking up on Tuhir’s teaser of possible lost species of huthah in the wilds of Vita, forcing her overly eager voice to be silenced by pressing her napkin to her lips and offering a restrained smile. Not-as-gracefully standing from the table as Ezre did, the russet brunette nodded and moved to the entrance, before stopping and turning to bow with another wince. Excitement was the death of all manners and cultural sensitivities it seemed.

“Two days, an expedition indeed.” The Hessean said with an unabashed grin, turning on her heel to follow the Hoxian out into the area where their bags awaited, smirking a little as the raven haired youth adjusted the load, not at all commenting on Tuhir’s correctness in their situation. It was sweet, in their subtle—very subtle ways—Ezre showed affection on levels that a previous version of herself would not understand or see. The young woman found herself distracted from the pressing concerns of Western Anaxas, now that there was a respite for the two students to spent time together, away from family and friends. There was a goal, a clear and meaningful purpose in their trip to the library, but it was difficult even as a most rational and logical teenager not to get wrapped up in the excitement of it all.

It was all rather grown up of them actually.

“By Ophurs Glittering Grace, I feel like the inside of a pillow!” The ninth form said with a laugh, playfully extending her arms as though it were impossible to bend them, moving to insert her arms in the straps of the pack and adjusting it to sit comfortably on her shoulders. It wasn’t light, but she could manage. Pulling on gloves, and the woolen hat over her curls, the girl took the poles from the Hoxian and smiled politely as xi gave prayer to the Gods to keep them safe. The shout caught her off-guard, causing the Hessean to jump slightly, before hearing Tuhir’s voice in reply. It was clearly more than just a simple farewell, instead a well refined practice. Another subtle sign of affection that the red head was barely skimming the surface of.

“Onwards!” The explorers daughter said boldly, cursing sharply under her breath as the cold buffered them almost immediately. It was like standing at the top of the Historical Wing, right on the roof, during winter, and letting a blizzard smack you about the face. Refreshing! Invigorating!

Absolutely clocking freezing!

The sharp bite across her tanned cheeks was one thing, burnishing them ruddy under the smattering of freckles, but it was the burning in her throat and chest that really threw the girl. It was painful, and made it harder to breathe than she would care to admit. Stubbornness though, was nothing if not rampant in her family, and so the thickly layered teenager set her jaw against any complaining.

They were, really, only just outside the house.

Nodding her acknowledgement, Lilanee followed the Hexxos down the pathway, trudging behind them with eyes on the path and breath pluming in the cold. She could feel it freezing as it chilled in the folds of her scarf, forming a light frost in the threads of the fabric. The darkness of eternal night unfolded above them, remarkable and beautiful in its unnatural state, dragging her blue gaze from their path upwards.

“Gods, my father will be so upset he missed this.” She said softly, a bittersweet ache in her chest at the thought, before glancing back down. Giggles shadowed them, and Lilanee turned to look. She smiled behind her scarf, lifting a hand to wave at the trio as they passed through the arched gate, understanding the fascination of children and perhaps a little more comfortable in their lack of rhakor. She could relate to them, on some level, being the Hessean with the unstoppable mouth.

It was so quiet, almost reverently so, in the quiet village. The young woman had been raised in what could be considered controlled chaos compared to Kzecka, the hustle and bustle of Vienda always consistent and noisy even if you didn’t notice it. The city didn’t sleep, not really, and Brunnhold was almost as bad. She nodded to the women as they passed, her field open and dancing with the colors she never seemed to be able to mute, to those who could sense them at least. Vibrant orange of excitement, and a thin streak of blue—concern and sorrow maybe. But not enough to overwhelm, just there, in the fringes.

As they emerged from the tunnel, Lilanee couldn’t help but tug her woolen hat down further, attempting to protect her exposed skin from the cold. She was not as cold as she had thought she would be, in all honesty, under the layers of clothing and the blood warming her veins…but it didn’t mean it wasn’t cold. Where skin met snow, it was stinging with cold. Her nose, the end at least, was long past any sense of feeling. Instead of answering the other student, the Hessean simply nodded again, following with due diligence. She plodded, one foot after the other, finding some sort of imagined musical rhythm in her head to concentrate on as she looked at her feet. When Ezre stopped, the young Hessean nearly ran into them with a small squawk, stepping back a little with little puffs of steam as she watched the Hoxian navigate gloves and folds of clothing to retrieve the fish he’d absconded with previously.

"You are a stranger to them. We will have to be careful.”

“Oh that makes sense.” The teenager said with a smile.

”If we are lucky, vre'ia, only Adja will come. If there are too many, hopefully they will accept you.”

“Hopefully we are—wait, lucky?” Her smile faltered a little, brow furrowing.

”I brought some bribery for their friendship.”

“Bribery—what?!” Lilanee felt a sudden sense of concern, the eager excitement to meet this Adja waning away as Ezre explained the creature less like a pet and more like some sort of wild animal. Taking the parcel, she looked at it, then up again.

“Ah.” Was all she managed to say, unsure as the Hoxian called to the beasts in the snow. She felt incredibly uncomfortable, standing there wrapped in bundles of clothing, both hands holding the piece of fish like some sort of sacrificial offering. They waited, for what felt like too long, Ezre brushing against her shoulder with all the casualness of someone waiting for a rickshaw.

“Mayb—oh.” Lilanee began, eyes widening at the sound travelling through the snowy landscape. It took her a moment to spot the creature against the white backdrop, though when it appeared the young woman felt her knees go weak and her mouth dry. It was huge, taller than themselves no doubt about it, loping towards them like there was nothing more tasty in all of Hox. A mane of spines, flat against white fur, and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“I did not.” The Hessean breathed distractedly in response to Ezre’s comment, unable to take her eyes off the blue eyed beast that barreled towards them, grateful when its gait slowed. Though now she felt like she was being assessed.

Friend, or food?

“The...fish? The fish. Oh! The fish!” Blinking to shake herself out of her immobilization, Lilanee looked down at the steamed piece of seafood, unwrapping it with clumsy gloves and holding it up towards Adja’s direction. The steam of her breath was thick, warmed by the pounding of her heartbeat and the rush of adrenaline. And yet, the anthropologist in her couldn’t help herself.

“Absolutely marvelous. Look at her, she’s bigger than the Anaxi breeds, at least based on the taxidermy in Brunnhold. And the size of her feet, no doubt for the snow? Those spines, are they like porcupine quills, can she shoot them at us? Oh Ezre, how beautiful. I want you to know, if she eats me, I forgive you.” The russet brunette breathed with a serious tone, though she couldn’t avoid the small smile that graced her lips, curls escaping her woolen hat to frame her face as the spinewolf sized her up.

“Now what?” She whispered, not looking away from the creature as she spoke, half out of fear and half out of wonder. Her fingers itched to drag out her notebook, to document this in words and sketches. To preserve the moment for her father to appreciate when they rescued him. Yes, when they rescued him. Not if. When.

[Ezre Vks]

vks household, kzecka

dawn on the 26th of Achtus, 2719

The huthah hovered just out of reach, blue eyes bright with intelligence and cunning, curiosity and wariness. Ezre was, of course, grinning behind his scarf, both unsuccessfully hiding the expression from the large creature and desperately attempting to keep his face somewhat warm, though the expression had noticeably creased into the edges of his eyes and colored his already wind-burned cheeks,

"Adja, this is a friend. This is Lilanee." He practically purred in Deftung, tilting his head toward Lilanee as if he expected the large lupine beast to completely understand him. Even if she couldn't, he knew she could comprehend his tone, so he spoke with a calm gentleness. The spinewolf's nostrils flared, breath a hot cloud that could be felt even from the distance she kept. Her mane of spines rustled and twitched as if she considered putting on a threatening display, but instead she stepped a little closer toward Lilanee once the Hessean held out the fish,

"See? Remember what I told you in the summer." Ezre insisted in a low, even voice, watching carefully but resisting the urge to reach for the thick, white fur and bury his hands and face in the creature's flank, "Go on. Be nice."

Instead of going for the fish first, Adja stepped a little closer, huge and imposing, the panting of the huthah rumbling through her broad chest while her large paws hardly made a noise on the snow now that she crept so delicately. She sniffed, breathing deeply as if she did, indeed, remember a scent, and then her soft, predictably wet nose pressed without warning with a surprisingly non-threatening shove against Lilanee's hood. She could have been attempting to swallow the small galdor's entire head, but with a snort that practically blew the thick fabric down from the Hessean's thick curls, the spinewolf tilted her intimidating maw toward the russet brunette's scarfed face instead—

And then she licked her!

Her rough tongue tasting in greeting, not unlike bander wolves' and other wild dogs' social behaviors, just amplified by her ridiculous size. Her tail wagged in subdued slow-motion, and while her mouth was hot, it was her teeth that were giant and impossible not to notice. When she turned her attention to Lilanee's outstretched hands, she left a wave of frigid air rushing to take her place, almost painful now that the poor young woman's face was decidedly very moist.

Adja nibbled the offered fish from gloved palms with surprising daintiness, though all the sharp things in her maw still brushed well-worn leather and her self-aware eyes that were like the summer sky fixed on the young woman's face, watching her carefully the whole time.

"She likes you, it seems." Ezre breathed, relieved and satisfied, before he finally gave in and practically fell forward into the fluffy double coat of the massive lupine wild thing, disappearing into it face-first and lifting his arms even while Adja clean her black lips to find the last of the fish bits, still looking at Lilanee and huffed a cloud of steam. Muffled by thick white fur, the Hexxos' words were mostly inaudible nonsense, "We are going on a hike, Adja. You should come and—"

The huge beast whined and shifted her weight, purposefully knocking the smaller Hoxian into the snow without much effort at all just to roll on him, amazingly aware of her spined mane and very careful not to bury his head in the soft powder. Maybe she managed to lick his face a few times—well, too many times—but mostly, she just bowled him over in friendly reconnection. The young Guide grunted, laughing but also struggling beneath the large animal's powerfully restrained weight,

"—dru, I did not say play. I said hike." He corrected, drawing out the word only to have any further syllables interrupted by the spinewolf again licking his face. It wasn't particularly pleasant this side of grilled fish for a snack, but it wasn't the worst of greeting smells he'd had to endure from the wild thing, "Zjai. Thank you. Zjai. Let me up now. Mmm. Alright."

Indecisive, he gave the broad lupine face a good rub, scratching behind an ear, hissing at some large flat paw trapping one of his legs before he finally tilted his head and clicked his tongue, following the sound with a low whistle, the tone of it stern and commanding, especially with the airy particles of his field flexing in emphasis. Adja ceased immediately and stepped back, giving Ezre the much-needed space he needed to comically roll out of the snow and begin brushing himself off, burdened by his pack and barely managing to make it to his feet again without taking it off. Just slipping one shoulder free was enough, and once he stood again, he grunted while he adjusted the weight properly all over again.

"Good, friend. Show Lilanee you are only ferocious when it matters. You cannot eat her—she would take my heart with her into your disgusting stomach and I would not forgive you even if she might forgive me." He grinned at the Hessean then, bold in his teasing honesty before he was forced to dribble snow and cold water over his face and down between the folds of his scarf while he fixed his hair and tugged back up his hood, pulling everything back into place.

The Hoxian took his bearings again while leaning against the spinewolf, finally nodding once he was sure of their direction by the twinkling landscape of stars bright above them, rivaled only by the ribbons of color that danced in the northern winter sky,

"Porcupines can shoot their quills? Ah—uh—dru. A huthah can flex their neck muscles, standing all the spines up at once, sometimes at great speed—fast enough to impale an attacker if necessary. They are longer on females, perhaps as a protective measure around their young. However, if a spine breaks or is pulled out, it takes a long time to regrow, if it regrows at all, here in such a cold climate. Paws like snowshoes, zjai." He waved a hand as they began walking and Adja loped alongside them, sometimes rushing ahead, sometimes falling behind, choosing her pace and attempting to determine her place with the two galdori, apparently content to follow them at Ezre's invitation, as if she understood.

"We may need snowshoes ourselves if the snow gets too much softer this way. At least until we have to climb." Pointing toward the dark silhouettes of crags that poked out of the snow, aware that they were already at quite an altitude, "We will pass between those two peaks there and then descend again on the other side. It will be a few hours of walking, but perhaps we can take a break at the top. Please tell me if breathing feels strange or if you get dizzy—I will keep my pace slow for you, vre'ia."

Ezre chuckled, the admonishment also a reminder to himself that he'd not lived in Kzecka—in all of Hox—for three years now. Even if he'd made attempts to keep his physical discipline up to par, the atmospheric differences were noticeable and he could tell by the tightness in his own chest that his lungs had grown used to Anaxas' lower elevations,

"For that matter," He offered shyly, "if anything seems strange about me, we must stop immediately, even if I argue otherwise. I am not immune to hypothermia or altitude sickness."

As if he wasn't full of enough warnings, honestly. He didn't laugh or smile this time, but he didn't entirely want their travel to be full of fear or silence. The snow beneath their boots crunched and gave a little, for while both galdori were delicate enough in stature, they were burdened by full packs of supplies. Their spinewolf companion was utterly silent, specialized paws impressively well-adapted.

"Do you know any songs from your homeland? Maybe we could take turns singing or sharing myths to make the hike more eventful."

[Lilanee Kuleda]

Achtus 26th, 2719
KZECKA | DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW?

Ezre spoke in Deftung, and Lilanee knew enough of it to understand what they had said, watching whilst the spine wolf huffed at her. Those long, threatening spines shivered, and for a brief moment the Hessean felt her heart might give out before the large beast stepped a little closer. The young woman watched the end of a twitching nose move towards the fish, and further, upwards over layers of clothing and towards her face.
​​
​​In Vita’s name, she averted her eyes, her pulse in her ears as she waited for Adja to return to the fish.
​​
​​A cold nose shoved against her face, between the hood and tanned skin, snorting away the warm fabric like it was nothing. Lilanee squeaked, squeezing her eyes shut and hunching her shoulders just a little. It was warm, and cold, and very very close to her face, this massive hunter of the mountains. Her curls had escaped the woolen hood, the red undertones lost in the perma-night sky, a tussled mess in the cold wind and the spinewolf’s investigation. In her nervousness, the teenager didn’t quite realise she was crushing the fish in her hands, bits of steamed flesh crumbling between paper and flopping to the snowy ground.
​​
​​The lavish of a large, warm, wet tongue across her whole face was not what the young brunette had expected. She crinkled her nose, the saliva already freezing on her glasses as Adja drew away with wagging tail and a seeming sense of acceptance.
​​
​​ “Thanks.” Lilanee said in a tone of playful disgust, ignoring the stinging chill of her wet face as the large spinewolf finally ate the fish, the Hessean forcing her fingers open and watching those crystalline eyes as they stared at her. She wanted so badly to reach out and touch the thick, silky fur of the beast, but held herself in check as Adja finished. As Ezre moved to all but disappear into the wolf, Lilanee brushed her hands against her thighs before removing her glasses. She wiped at the frozen spit with her scarf, brushing away frost and ice essentially, and took her time cleaning the lenses of her glasses as the great beast effortlessly knocked the Hexxos into the snow. Giggling at the spectacle before her, Lilanee returned her glasses to her face, watching with amusement as Adja clearly delighted in her playful greeting of the raven haired youth.
​​
​​"Good, friend. Show Lilanee you are only ferocious when it matters. You cannot eat her—she would take my heart with her into your disgusting stomach and I would not forgive you even if she might forgive me."
​​
​​The grin on the cxil’s face was as vibrant as the lights that ribboned across the sky, and Lilanee couldn’t help but blush as she smiled in return, hiding it under the premise of adjusting her hood again as they stood together in the chilled darkness. She knew that grin was hers, and hers alone, and it warmed something in her chest where sometimes it was so hard to stay warmed. There had been so many trips and stumbles and feet-in-mouths in their still new relationship, and the Hessean was sure there would probably be more. But they’d professed that there was more than just a mutual attraction, or enjoyment in shared company. Lilanee was in love with the Hexxos, and if there was ever a need for her to write a paper on the topic, her first observation would be that being in love was hard. It wasn’t some sort of stroll through the sunshine, it was fun and it was messy and it was painful but it was worth it. It was worth it.
​​
​​Love, after all, had been the reason Ezre had searched for Jonathan. Love, in fact, had been the reason Lilanee had come to Hox instead of heading straight to Florne. If they’d not found each other, if they’d not weathered the sharp crags of those stumbles, Lilanee would be in Vienda grinding dried drake glands and arguing with her mother on the impossibility of a funeral without remains.
​​
​​She blinked, lost in her thoughts as easily as she got lost in her words, falling in beside the Hexxos as he spoke about the biological evolutions of the Hoxian spinewolf. Her periwinkle gaze drifted to Adja as the large beast rushed ahead before coming back, seemingly unimpressed with the galdori pace being set.
​​
​​ “Hrm?” Lilanee hummed distractedly, paying attention properly and following the line of Ezre’s arm as they pointed to the peaks before them. There was a perceptible shift of surprise in her field, only for a moment, before a resolution set in. The student adjusted her glasses and nodded firmly.
​​
​​ “Of course. I have researched the effects of altitude on the way our bodies intake air, not withstanding the adaptions that mountain races have evolved to cope with this. I will monitor my biological signs, and ensure you are well informed of any abnormalities. In fact, I took the liberty of…uh…acquiring my fathers Living grimore before we left Vienda. There’s an Enchantment spell in there, that I think with the right combination of Blood spells, could perhaps affect the ability for our cells to operate in this weather. That being said, I am no Magister, and whilst I know my way well enough around a body I am not sure I have the level of knowledge to fiddle with cellular function. At best…I could probably give us a boost of the chemically forced kind. Or maybe, if I raise our adrenaline, it would raise our heart rate and in turn increase our ability to intake air. Oh! Or at least the rush of blood would increase body temperature. So there’s that!” The excitable young woman grinned, before clearing her throat and nodding again with a serious face, because Ezre was serious and she wanted to be sure they knew this wasn’t her taking things lightly.
​​
​​ “Absolutely. I will monitor both of our biological signs. If you seem off, or I, we will immediately stop and assess our situation.” Crunching along beside the Hoxian for a while in companionable silence, Lilanee snorted at the question, eyes on the ground as they walked.
​​
​​ “Oh dear…songs. Yes well, I do, though I will forewarn you Ezre Vks that I am not at all what you might call…a vocalist. But I can at least, give you a laugh probably.” The russet brunette smirked, brushing against their shoulder with hers, before humming in thought.
​​
​​ “So, this one is a nursery rhyme, I think. Alethia sang it, and I know a little of the translation, but let's see.” Taking a chilly breath, Lilanee began to sing, clapping her hands together in a simple four-beat. The words were not Estuan, and occasionally she closed her eyes to concentrate on certain pronouciations. Her voice was plaintive, not made for the intricate lilts and glottal switches of Hessean. After a first run through, Lilanee switched to the language she was raised in, scrunching her nose in more of a spoken word version of the song, laughing her way through a poor translation.
​​
​​”Nini-nini, nin-nin-o,
​​go to sleep little…master?
​​my child, as strong as a drake-o.
​​Your bed? has white sheets,
​​Grow up my child, I’ll teach you to…soar,
​​Your cradle has white sheets.
​​I want you to be a omaja—a leader of a nomadic clan—uh…
​​Grow up, my child, strong as a drake,
​​Grow up to fight for your country.
​​
​​When you walk Vita quakes,
​​Be as strong as Vradire,
​​little child like a miraan now, to be the soldier of Hesse.
​​Little child like a miraan now, to be the soldier of Hesse.” The teenager laughed with an exhale, tucking her thumbs under her pack straps and shaking her head.
​​
​​ “I haven't sung that in years so I might have gotten it a bit muddled. And I don't know Hessean well enough to be entirely sure of the translation. Alethia sang it, and I learned it, but that's really it. There’s another one but it’s really depressing about Ophurs touch or something.” Lilanee pushed her good back, cheeks warmed from the singing and the movement.
​​
​​ “Alright, enough of my voice, your turn.”

[Ezre Vks]

vks household, kzecka

dawn on the 26th of Achtus, 2719

"Iam not sure if we will need any Living conversation experimentation unless we find ourselves trapped in a snowstorm. It looks particularly calm now," Ezre was smiling, having listened with his peculiar form of comfortable quiet while Lilanee verbally explored every thought and possibility of what magic may be necessary should they find themselves really struggling with the altitude. She'd admitted to borrowing Jonathan's book—perhaps books, had the Hoxian chosen to pursue the statement—from home, he realized. There was little shame in her tone of voice, but it wasn't as though he expected any after their experiences in Vienda. Perhaps these grimoires would prove useful in more than just study, for her father's connections to his things was something the divinipotent student hoped could become another thread in the Clairvoyant tapestry that would need to be woven just to locate him properly—wherever he was in Western Anaxas.

Hidden behind his scarf and letting his dark eyes drift from the Hessean's face to glance at the spinewolf as she taunted her two-legged companions into traveling faster, he let his smile fade a little at the thought of the real challenge that awaited them—not over those peaks or down into the valley beyond, not down into the crevasse or into the old, frigid halls of one mostly abandoned but not forgotten library, no—the real challenge that waited, shrouded in mist and mystery in Western Anaxas.

"I am not sure—uh—" The young Guide made efforts at inserting his thoughts or agreement into the string of ideas that left the russet brunette's lips in a steady stream of sound and steam. He glanced over, dark gaze flicking between Lilanee's cheerful brainstorming and the easy gait of the huthah as Adja meandered along with the pair of galdori in her own way, aloof but interested.

"—perhaps in an emergency situation—ah—"

There was little reason to actually bother commenting. If he'd learned nothing else at all over the past year, it was that sometimes just listening to the Hessean was enough.

"—zjai." Ezre smiled, face hidden behind knit wool layers, even if the expression of amusement crept into the edges of his eyes. Despite the lack of any sunlight, the moons and the stars were surprisingly bright, what light they gave dancing off the snow and illuminating their path. Dark volcanic rock jutted out here and there, but for the most part, the entire Spondola range landscape was blanketed in thick snow.

The hike would become steeper as they carried on, and not even in a gentle, relaxing sort of way. Instead, like so much of the kingdom itself, it was a harsh change of pace with less and less black rock jutting out of ice and thick, unfathomable layers of snow until eventually the experienced local suggested they use the picks he'd brought to help them find some purchase, pausing to show the Hessean how to use her boots to dig into the snow a bit and find a good grip. It was easy to lose track of time without the usual passage of the sun to mark the hours, but the sounds of chimes and bells from Kzecka drifted on the wind and the stars and moons moved in a similarly predictable manner should one choose to pay attention to them or should one know them by heart like Ezre did.

They were climbing again, and while Kzecka was at an impressive altitude, it was nestled below a handful of higher peaks. Dotting some of these peaks were various tsvaten, small shrines and temples devoted to all of the Circle or just a particular god or goddess. Really old ones were built to mythic beasts or spirits whose names had been forgotten save for whatever mentions of them remained carved into stone. Some of them shone with phosphor or flickered with well-tended flame, making it look as though the stars themselves had come down to settle in with the spiritual communities that had carved the small city known for its libraries as much as its religions into this isolated part of the Spondola Mountains millenia ago.

"You are quite vocal, if you ask me—oh. You mean in terms of singing practice." Ezre couldn't help but tease, attempting to keep conversation light even if he felt that adrenaline high of altitude beginning to trickle beneath his tattooed skin, his pulse elevated and a warmth under all his layers of clothing burning from exertion.

Still, the young Guide fell quiet in a respectful manner, interested in listening to Lilanee sing in a language he admittedly knew very little about. He found the sounds of it curious in their strangeness, aware that Deftung was such an intense, hard-on-the-ears sort of tongue in comparison to others in the remaining Six Kingdoms. He didn't laugh, but he did smile, the expression not entirely hidden behind his scarf or under his hood because it consumed his entire windburned face.

"You have most certainly expressed the prowess of your people in such a song, vre'ia. The combative nature of Hessean galdori is rather fascinating—oh. Ophur's touch. Is that a song about turning things into gold? I think I have read some texts about such a legend as a child." Thoughtfully, the Hoxian attempted to sort through memories of all the time he'd spent in various libraries, exploring forgotten sections and old scrolls,

"I must apologize in advance, but most of the songs I know are either dirges or romances. There are a few comedies, but—well, I have not memorized many. There is a particularly long play about lovers separated by their families for political reasons, which while it ended rather unfortunately, has some very beautiful music. I remember attending a performance while a student in Frecks, the entire production put on by a well known troupe of passive entertainers."

Ezre paused here as if he considered explaining more about the performers than the performance itself. After, he thought. It wasn't as though the didn't have any time, given the hike that was still sprawling out above and in front of them,

"I can only sing a few pieces of it, but one of the final scenes involves the death of one of the lovers, lost in the wilderness—ah—uh—speaking of depressing. Here, let me sing a little. It is my favorite part because there is reference to Kzecka." He chuckled in a could of steam, aware of where they were but also aware they were together. He slowed his pace a little because singing in Deftung required deep breaths, the consonant-heavy language hardly lighter when in song,

"Thus night fell.
Yesterday as well
the sun went down
behind the world's black spine
and bells rang.

Not knowing
that my body lies
in Vroh Guar's shadow
my love
awaits me.

Overtaken by darkness
I will lodge under
the boughs of a tree
The stars alone
host me tonight."

Not sung in Estuan, he was sure some of the words were hard to follow for Lilanee, especially in the metaphor-heavy formal performance style of his people. He repeated the song in the best of his ability, translating somewhat on the fly, in their common language, mostly laughing his way through it because the tune felt almost impossible without the dragging, solid sounds of his more familiar tongue. He'd been singing his whole life, as long as he could remember, but he also had no concept of whether he was poor at it or whether he was good. He sang because he enjoyed it, not for the satisfaction of others. He sang, usually, because the gods deserved his praises. When he was through, he paused to catch his breath and check on Adja, dark eyes scanning the snowy, starlit peaks to signs of her movement.

Her blue eyes shone in the dark, tail wagging in recognition of his gaze. From far away, it was easy to forget her huge size.

"On our way back through Frecks, I will try to find tickets to a performance of some kind. Winter is the best season to see plays and operas." He promised, glancing upward again, "Another hour or so and we can take a break, I think. We will be up there, nestled between those two cliff faces. The view downward will be amazing, but this climb may be a little tricky—"

He whistled and Adja loped to lag just slightly behind them instead of galavanting ahead of them as she'd been, like some rear guard, trained in a few rather unorthodox support maneuvers for her galdori packmates while traveling. Nimble despite her large paws, it was clear the spinewolf was an excellent climber.

"—stick close, vre'ia."

[Lilanee Kuleda]

Achtus 26th, 2719
KZECKA | DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW?

Lilanee adjusted her glasses, noting how they were fogging up now that her breath was warming, trying to push them closer against her face. It might be that she would need to remove them to see anything at all at this rate. They paused, whilst Ezre showed her the ways to move along as the terrain became more frozen and snowy, ever the explorers daughter she asked questions about why and how and marveled at the ingenuity of a mountainous race. Her anthropologists heart itched to compare with Gior, wondering if they used such tools also, curious as to how living under a mountain compared to living on top of a mountain. Whilst the tanned Hessean didn’t know the stars or the moon, on the cold perpetual night air she could hear the chimes of Kzecka as they sounded, a far yet welcome reminder that civilization was there even if they couldn’t see it.

They moved upwards, and it was not without an almost childish squeal that Lilanee hurried to examine one of the small shines that dotted the wild landscape. She crouched to let her eyes scan over its carved wonder, a candle burning, lit by some devout Hoxian somewhere out there. The carving was of a horse, with many legs wrapping around its body and clouds curled around its hooves. What could have been bolts of lightening seemed to have worn away by wind and ice, now just smooth snaking paths over the shrine. The freckled student tapped the stone carving, pursing her lips, thinking. Her knowledge of the mythic beasts wasn’t great, given they were as absurd as the Gods, but she knew some of them. A horse in the storm, a vague memory of a name that she couldn’t remember, some story about truths and revelations. It didn’t matter, it was the beauty of the culture that she appreciated.

"You are quite vocal, if you ask me—oh. You mean in terms of singing practice."

Lilanee gave them a look, one brow raised, before playfully sticking her tongue out with a laugh. She was breathing heavier, harder actually, as though it was more difficult to take in the air needed. Not concerningly so however, but certainly noted in her mental biological analysis.

Continuing on, the teenager blundered her way through the Hessean nursery rhyme, laughing at her own lack of skill both vocally and in the translation. Whilst she could understand Alethia when the woman spouted the old tongue at her, there was very little Lilanee could speak herself unless she thought out the sentence in advance. Even then she didn’t get it right most of the time. A couple of words were ingrained—opaji, chamdja, omaja; father, mother, king—used in place of the Estuan terminologies, but outside of that very little. For a moment the russet brunette smirked, she knew more Deftung now than she did Hessean.

“Yes, that’s the one. The lyrics lead me to believe it was written about a foreigner, or for foreigners, to keep them out of the mines. It’s dreadfully depressing, in the end their is something about turning their lover to gold, which is deadly because gold isn’t alive and some sort of metaphor about the weakness of Anaxas. I don’t really know that one as well as the first, though now thinking on the lyrics which I haven’t done since I was small, perhaps it’s not about touching someone and turning them to gold but the actual process of burying the dead and encapsulating their bones in gold—oh that is interesting I will need to sit down and find the full song and re-visit it I think!” Her blue eyes sparkled with the delight of a possible discovery in something as trivial as a childrens song, snorting a laugh.

“I would love to see a comedy written by a Hoxian sometime, I imagine it requires a good deal of understanding how to read a hidden meaning between other words.” The Hessean said with a teasing tone, not entirely false in her words. Hoxians, it seemed in her experience thus far, were the masters of subtlety and hidden meanings. Hesseans, so direct and unapologetic in their emotions and words, couldn’t hope to understand the mountainous monks. Lilanee had taken a long time just to understand Ezre, and even so she still stumbled.

“Passive entertainers? I suppose that’s a good a use as any.” She said with a shrug, not concerned with the Godly connotations that lingered around passives, more fascinated by their lack of magic from a scientific standpoint. Was it biological? Was the mona just fussy? At least Anaxas kept them bottled in Brunnhold, for the safety of others. Gior let them work, or put them into priesthood. Hesse, in the past at least, had used them as weapons of destruction—or martyrs at least given their explosive spell work was unpredictable in triggers. Did Hox put them into work too, no surely not, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

Drifting back from her wandering thoughts, the young woman huffed clouds of breath as they walked, listening to the heavily consonanted language of the Hoxian as they sang the stanza from their song. Lilanee frowned at the lyrics, trying to transpose herself as much as she could, lost about half way along. As the Hexxos repeated it, translating where possible, the ninth form still frowned though it was in thought not in concentration. Ezre’s voice was rich, more timbred then her own, bolstered by the curiousness of Deftung. The lyrics clung to her heart, and the teenager couldn’t help but let her curls shelter her face as she watched where she put her feet.

“Dying alone, in the shadow of a mountain, with no one beside you at the end. A loved one waiting for you to return. In any other culture, I would suggest that is a sad song. A fate no one should want to endure.” Lilanee said quietly, taking the lyrics to a personal place she was avoiding thinking about. Was that was her father felt, huddled in that small tent, nursing that miserable fire? Inhaling deeply, the Hessean pushed those thoughts aside and smiled, looking up at Ezre.

“However! Given the nature of Hox, I am sure the next act is probably the awakening of a raen and their return to home, with the intricacies of the Cycle and the Pantheon. See, I’ve got this business figured out Ezre Vks. What’s gone is not lost, not always.” She laughed, stopping suddenly in her hiking to make a whooshing sigh and taking another deep breath, blinking as though clearing her vision.

“Whew! I think I need to speak less and breathe more, just a little light headedness. Nothing unmanageable or concerning mind you but goodness.” Watching Adja bound back behind them, Lilanee caught her breath a spell, before nodding and following the Hexxos onwards.

“A break…is good. Though…I am really excited to see this library. The crypts are…of course…a decent place for research but…it’s infantile compared to…well…compared to any other country it seems. Except maybe…Hesse. I don’t even know if they have a historical library.” Ignoring her own advice, Lilanee continued to huff her way through her musings on ancient texts, before eventually falling silent to focus on moving forwards.

[Ezre Vks]

vks household, kzecka

dawn on the 26th of Achtus, 2719

"Hidden meanings are a cultural past time, zjai." Ezre riposted with his typical deadpan sort of humor, the tone of his voice just warm enough to hint at his amusement even if there was so little emotion in it otherwise. He tilted his head at her dismissive response about passives, aware that there were so many different opinions across the Six Kingdoms when it came to galdorkind's nonmagical children. The young Guide held his own, it was true, but his thoughts had changed over the years, shaped perhaps more by his exploration of the world outside his isolated home as much as it was by all he'd read and experienced.

They are souls, too, Lilanee—he thought to say, biting his tattooed lip hidden beneath his scarf—cursed or objects of guilt, abandoned or eternal children, passives were still alive, still part of the Cycle, and still bound to leave and return like everyone else. They weren't playthings or toys, and while they also were no longer sacred in his (slowly changing?) opinion, they were still the children of galdori. The slow realization that all sentient things were connected in some way had begun to lose its sting for Ezre, becoming less of a disturbing discomfort and more of an interesting curiosity. Something about Vita as it was had soured, gone wrong, and the more he quietly attempted to observe in hopes of understanding, the more he wondered if it wasn't because everyone had become more divided by their differences.

"I—huh? Oh. Remember, raen are not beings most outside of Hexx'en even actually believe exist. There is but a single opera I know of that deals with the spiritual realm, though it is more about ghosts and spirits. I cannot remember if there is some hint of raen knowledge or not. That would be an interesting drama, though—" He grinned, freer here in the frozen wild than in his family home, than in Brunnhold half a continent away, "—you are not too far from seeing a clear glimpse of my people. Without knowing the sensation of sadness, it is surely impossible to feel real joy."

He paused when she did, turning in his climb to watch the Hessean, dark eyes studying the near-opaque clouds of her breath and her facial expression. She'd been in Kzecka long enough for her lungs to begin acclimating to the altitude, but that didn't mean she was used to this kind of frigid, icy hike. It was hard work for the body, and even the Hoxian felt the sting of lactic acid building up in his muscles made weaker by the life of a student in Anaxas,

"A little bit further and there will be a good spot for a rest. Hopefully from up there I will be able to check on the weather and plan our descent on the other side." They'd have to be careful on the way down—it was a steeper trail and there'd been snow recently enough to run the risk of an avalanche or loose footing on the way toward the gaping hole of a crevasse carved into the volcanic rock nearby.

Tucking one of his sticks back into a strap on his pack, he reached out and took Lilanee's gloved hand in his, seeking a supportive, firm grip. The rest of their climb would be a little slower, but it would preserve the russet brunette's energy and afford them a bit more stability. Working together, the last of this part of their journey was just barely horizontal enough that they could pretend to still be walking instead of scrambling. The snow crunched and collapsed in places, more ice than powder, and black rock jutted out here and there. Adja loped without effort, still hanging behind the pair of galdori as if ready to use her massive body as a barrier should either of them slip and fall.

The young Guide felt a little lightheaded himself by the time they finally reached a part of the cliff side that leveled out into a flat, purposefully-carved plateau between two spire-like peaks. He was panting, pulse ringing in his numb ears, cheeks and lungs both burning. Phosphor lanterns and a handful of candles cast a warm glow in the darkness; faded cloth flags and folded paper prayers flapped in the stiff wind that kept trying to cut what skin they still had exposed; and frozen offerings and memorials dotted a series of shrines that were probably millennia old, hewn by the first Hoxians with static conversation much like they'd created Frecks, though which was created first was a pointless question by now.

There appeared to also be a little shelter, a curved enclave, shaped into one of the peaks, and the huthah was obviously so familiar with the area that the white beast made her way there without prompting. Ezre paused at the lip of the flattened area and turned, not letting go of Lilanee's hand and tugging her to look out, to look downward.

It was so unbelievably cold and so unfathomably clear up here, the fierce wind causing only a bit of snow spray further down, but below them nestled in the black volcanic stone and white frozen expanse was all of ancient, stoic Kzecka, twinkling like the sky above. For a moment, given the altitude and the dizziness of exertion, one might forget whether they were climbing or falling, whether one way was up and the other was down at all, but, strangely enough, the holy city of libraries and spiritual seekers had boundaries that ended where the winter sky above them seemed to stretch on forever in all directions.

They were now ridiculously high, though to the west more Spondola mountains reached higher still. Behind them, the dancing lights of aurora disappeared into clouds, but somewhere on the horizon that wouldn't see the sun for a few more months, the jagged dark smear of the massive volcanic chain that contained the hulking Vroh Guar was almost visible.

"This view of my home can only be rivaled by airship, which, unfortunately cannot yet travel through this part of the mountains—safely, anyway. In the summer, you can see the lower elevation taiga forests to the east and Vroh Guar itself to the west. I have come up here many times to meditate and wonder about the world I have yet to see."

He didn't linger too long, tired himself, toes and nose and cheeks completely numb. The cxîl leaned a little, hovering close while he caught his breath, airy Clairvoyant particles of his field mingling with the weightier mona of the young woman next to him, enjoying the company as much as the scenery, for he'd longed for quite sometime to share such an experience with someone, with an outsider, with Lilanee.

"Let us have something to eat and drink before we begin our descent, vre'ia. It is not safe to rest for too long up here—the air is too thin and it is much too cold. Adja will lend us some warmth and I hope my tea is still hot."

Ezre led them toward the shelter—barely a cave so much as a rounded hovel kept clear of snow by humble Kzecka acolytes on a regular basis. There were piles of well-worn furs and a few more lanterns that the Hoxian lit with quiet words of Monite instead of daring to take off his gloves and strike a match, taking off the Hessean's pack before his own and setting them to one side while indicating they should huddle against the stone wall that was most protected from the wind. The smooth, magic-shaped shelter was decorated with carvings and paintings and charcoal drawings—prayers, promises, mantras, memories all drawn and written by pilgrims and travelers.

Finally sitting, the dark-haired student sighed, looking up to the spinewolf and making a hand signal while he made a low, guttural noise that clearly was a command. Adja huffed, but it didn't seem to be an objection, drawing close to them and turning a couple of delicate circles before ingloriously flopping down in the entrance of the enclave, laying so her white bulk could serve as more of a wind break and her body heat could fill the small space, wafting from her impressive, furry form. Her blue eyes stayed open, watching the pair with feral intelligence and her tail might have wagged once or twice while Ezre turned his attention on digging through his pack.

He produced a well-wrapped container that was ceramic on the outside and metal on the inside, tightly lidded and a small lacquered box held shut by a leather band. He fished around for a pair of nestled cups, passing one to the Hessean and scooting closer, close, as close as he could get in their layers in the small alcove, sharing warmth. He tugged his gloves off with his teeth, huddling over the snack he'd prepared,

"You said Hesse does not have any historical libraries? In the capital? Or in the kingdom's university, surely there are some ancient texts. Is it purposeful—a tribal culture seeking not to keep records of those conquered, or something else?"

His Hoxian was showing, innocently enough, but even as he carefully unscrewed the lid to the container that held tea, he knew his people viewed hers as mostly greedy warlords instead of civilized galdori. A thick cloud of steam rushed once he opened and poured the no longer hot but certainly still very warm liquid, passing one small cup quickly while nestling the other between his knees. He finally pried apart the lid of the small lacquered box with a bit of effort, fingers already quite cold, revealing small, round cakes made of dried fruit, grains, and some kind of nut butter—high in fat for energy on the next part of their journey,

"I—I did not mean that is how things are now, Lilanee. Is oral history more important than written? There are some elements of both here in Hox—humanity has a rich culture of oral tradition through song here where wicks tell their history through performance and poetry and galdorkind has enjoyed a sampling of those things while mostly relying on the written word."

He curled around his cup, letting it warm his face and hands, leaning comfortably against the russet brunette and glancing over to Adja whose bright eyes were half open, alert but resting.

[Lilanee Kuleda]

Achtus 26th, 2719
KZECKA | DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW?

They walked together, hand in hand, and Lilanee huffed her way through the hike with no more words. Even the might of her thought process had been thwarted by the harsh first part of their hike. As they climbed, poles in hand and crunching through the frozen landscape, the ground began to even out, and Adja bounded ahead to what could only be a familiar shelter for the beast. Ezre moved her closer to the lip of the plateau, looking out and down over the side, and the curly haired Hessean was inspired to do the same.

“Wow.” She breathed, blue eyes sweeping over the twinkling darkened village far below, feeling a sense of awe and the realization of how small they all were in the vastness of Vita. It was dizzying, looking down on something she was walking the streets of only hours before, like some sort of model city in living color. Her breath plumed with a huff of genuine delight, mouth curved into a wonderous grin, listening to the Hoxian speak as her eyes trailed across the spine of the volcanic mountains.

“It’s truly incredible, the raw power of Vita that cracked and pushed the earth, to shove the mountains into the sky. And the ingenuity of galdori-kind to carve and mold it to their whim. I will never, I think, see something as spectacular as this view.” The teenager said quietly, turning her gaze to the raven haired student beside her with a warmth in her smile.

“I am glad that I got to see it with you.” Lilanee squeezed the cxil’s hand, responding to the leaning of their body with a pulse of her field and a hand to her scarf. She pulled it to her chin, shifting to peck a kiss on the Hoxian’s icy cheek before covering up again without loosing her smile. As Ezre suggested they eat, and the idea of warm tea, the young woman nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea. I believe that honestly I could have lost the end of my nose on the way here and wouldn’t know, it’s so cold!” They entered the alcove, and Lilanee moved to help as best she could—removing her pack and keeping generally out of the way. Digging through the front pocket of her pack, she found her notebook and a charcoal pencil, tucking against the stone wall as Ezre lit the lamps. She was sketching as the Hexxos came to sit with her, capturing some of the likeness of the spinewolf who had sacrificed herself for their comfort, not particularly bad in her artistic talent. Her father had taught her how to draw, it was an integral part of being an explorer! One could not simply describe an immovable temple pillar to one’s peers, it needed to be captured in detail and spectographs were not always convenient.

Closing the pages over, the pencil a bookmark of sorts, Lilanee put the sketching aside and took the cup from the Hoxian, huddling close without complaint both for warmth and for the personal satisfaction it provided. She hummed, watching all the preparations with interest and tucking the steaming cup of warm tea close to her face. Immediately, her glasses fogged over, and she removed them with annoyance to tuck them in a pocket.

“Well, there is no university in Hesse. The capital might have something of a library, but neither Alethia or my father have mentioned it. Mother isn’t from Mestigia, she’s from one of the nomadic tribes. Her father, my grandfather, had a caravan that followed the weather to mine selected gold veins. I believe he was a drake breeder too, though I don’t quite know to be sure, she was always very closed off about him. Father said he was a hard man, leathered by the sun even if it wasn’t himself out there digging the gold with his workers. Anyway, I know that for Alethia at least, her historical knowledge of Hesse is oral, not written. Stories and songs, and yes, you are right, a lot of them are about conquest.” Sipping the tea, leaning comfortably against the other galdori, Lilanee let her eyes wander over the shape of the spinewolf.

“Maybe it’s related to the embarrassments of the past. Humanity in Hesse has been known to…take advantage of the politicians of Hesse from time to time. Why would you want to record that for your enemies to read? Better to let it fade into the folds of history, and write epic stories about the warriors that defended the Barrens from the invading forces of Shotha. Imagine being a foreign force, walking into the battle field of galdori astride great drakes that shriek blood curdling cries of war, and the armies of Hesse beating their weapons against their shields and shouting in a thousand voices the Song of Negirith the Fierce. It’s certainly more impactful than—I don’t know—some wilted old man croaking the spell some Magister wrote before he died that refreshens a vase of flowers, from the pages of a crumbling book.” The russet brunette waved a hand in emphasis, giggling as though to make it clear to the Hoxian that she wasn’t entirely serious. The history of their two peoples was rough, and she was loathe to let it interfere with their relationship again. At least not so soon after the last time!

“Hessean’s value common sense, logic, and actions speaking louder than words. How can you keep a history on paper, if you can’t ensure it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands? Look at the War of the Book, or rather, what we know of it. A whole war, for one text? Madness. Perhaps Hesse saw that madness, and decided that there should never be a reason for another war over written words, therefore they keep all their histories spoken and passed on through generations. Truth be told Ezre, I’ve never really asked and I wonder if I did, if Alethia would even know.” Smirking, she shrugged.

“Perhaps when we have Jonathan back, we should all visit Hesse and ask the Omaja Amh himself.” Drinking more of the tea, Lilanee rested her head against xi’s shoulder and chewed her lip in thought.

“Wicks are quite the verbose historians, from what I understand. They would have to be, given they don’t have cities or villages like galdori and even humanity.”

[Ezre Vks]

vks household, kzecka

dawn on the 26th of Achtus, 2719

"There are so many words for cold and snow in Deftung, and yet none of them entirely feel sufficient enough." The Hoxian chuckled in a thick cloud of breath, huddled in the alcove while he immediately regretted tugging off his gloves. The frigid temperatures bit at tattooed skin, and hands that were once used to this kind of winter burned while he poured tea and Lilanee took out a notebook to sketch Adja. The spinewolf watched the pair, intelligent blue eyes half-closed.

"Are all Hessean galdori educated in other Kingdoms? Or is education simply done differently?" Ezre listened quietly, sipping his tea, letting it sear his numb lips and warm its way down his windburned throat. It wasn't as though he hadn't read more about the russet brunette's culture before, especially since their friendship had blossomed into something more, but the young Guide was achingly aware of his isolated, cultural ignorance about the harsh, rocky landscape and its unusually nomadic galdori, chasing after riches as if all that glittered somehow could provide spiritual satisfaction.

He understood that of all the surviving Six Kingdoms, Hesse was still the most attached to physical conquest instead of economic or magical or scientific conquest like other Kingdoms—Anaxas being an uncomfortable example. Hox had a proud warrior tradition, it was true, and the haughty northernmost people still boasted a strength they kept hidden behind stoic faces and humble self-sufficiency. But that was not the course of their current conversation,

"While Kzecka maintains the oldest written records supposedly in all of the Ten Kingdoms, Hoxians also enjoy some level of oral tradition and collective memory through storytelling. It is not the same as relying on oral history entirely." He wasn't speaking in judgment, but he chose to take a few quick bites of his snack instead of continue, washing it down with another sip of tea and a hiss. He might have hidden a smile behind the steam, tilting his head toward Lilanee's when she spoke of human and galdori conflict and the Hessean desire to retell history without regard for accuracy so much as national glorification,

"Learning from one's failures is often far more valuable than learning from one's successes. If an entire kingdom chooses to erase their mistakes out of fear, selfishness, and embarrassment, then how can that kingdom hope to not repeat them, over and over? All kingdoms have done this, even my own. You can still find the truth here, like buried treasure, beneath the ice and black armor of Bash himself—as I will show you. Some people have have chosen to boldly record the failures of the past and hidden it away in the hopes that when it is found, hearts will be ready to bear the weight of such truth."

Perhaps Ezre's words were less of an argument than they seemed considering his usual deadpan, almost emotionless form of delivery, for when the young woman next to him spoke of history falling into the wrong hands and the War of the Book, his expression hardened only a little. Red cheeks burned by the cold, the Hoxian's delicate brows drew together noticeably but he didn't frown, "My umah has been known to say that the mind is unreliable, that the heart shapes memory to sooth pain. She would also say that the written word is no less fallible, that those who put pen to paper can twist the ink to do their bidding or even write it all in blood when they choose. So, nothing is perfect. One must simply attempt to observe as many facets of the same stone as possible, to gather truth for themselves."

He sighed when she spoke of her father, of Jonathan, and while he knew she didn't mean his mention as a dig at their agreed upon choices, he knew there was discomfort there. He still felt some strange sting of his own personal failure about it all, and yet he knew that they needed to be as prepared as possible for their dangerous decision to follow after him into Western Anaxas, "I have a feeling the War of the Book was over more than merely written words, but I would like to see Hesse some day regardless. Especially if it is with you."

They were content to eat and make small talk over the nerdiest of subjects, and the young Guide found this nearly as warming as Adja's body heat or the tea that cooled too quickly in his hands. Once they'd finished their snacks and he'd put everything back away into his pack, Ezre found himself shivering a little, ready to get up and keep moving before the clouds on the horizon drifted too close and dumped dangerous wind and snow on the last half of their journey,

"The wicks here keep a lot of their history in song and dance. Their performances follow the seasons, but they also leave vast works of art—memories of major events—carved into the steppes." Stretching when he stood, he readjusted his coat and tucked himself tighter into his scarf and hood, offering the russet brunette his hand to help her up and chirping at the dozing spinewolf to convince her it was time to go, no matter how comfortable their little alcove had become here at the top of the world.

"The descent can be tricky. Much like our journey to Kzecka from Frecks, there will be ice and the potential for snow giving way beneath us. Down below, there will be a split between the peaks, a crevasse into which one of the oldest libraries has been hidden for thousands of years. I will probably harness us together with Adja about halfway down the slopes here because it will get very steep. Are you ready?"

[Lilanee Kuleda]

Achtus 26th, 2719
KZECKA | DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW?

"Well, according to both my parents, education in Hesse is much different to education in any other kingdom. Mestiga, I can’t speak for in detail as neither Alethia or Jonathan resided there, but the nomadic galdori are taught within the caravans by kin or tutors. There’s no formal university to go graduate at, but children learn through the songs and stories, and through the doing. Whilst humans make up the majority of the population, there is still work to be done by the galdori that lead them. And sparring, battle magic. The art of War and Defense. An important skill even if War has been absent for some time. There are watering spots to fill should they be dry for the drakes, or gold veins to be located. It’s easier to start a mine shaft with magic than it is with pick and shovel. Healing on injured workers and animals alike, and in the winter camping ground which is almost like a home base, there’s smelting of gold to be done and pouring into blocks. Of course, shipping to Mestiga so it can be traded, or turned into jewelry to sell to the other kingdoms.” Sipping her tea, Lilanee frowned in thought.

“So yes, it is more practical than academic, though arithmetic and chemistry is usually something galdori will learn to better their trade discussions and smelting. Apprenticeships are common in metal work or business acumen, and the practice of Vitanism requires no university to learn. Though the act of Vitanism itself in some regards is also an education in survival skills and the natural world. We learn that Vita connects us all, that the galdori that falls in the forest feeds the animals and insects, the fungus and the algae, the micro organisms that break down matter. They in turn feed the trees and plants, or the galdori. And so on, and so forth. It is a cycle, though not of a spiritual sense. Of a practical one.” Caught up in her own words, the sienna skinned teenager raised her brows.

“Of course though, there are some galdori that do attend other kingdoms for a more formal education. Moreso in Brunnhold I am aware. Bastia and Hesse are in poor relations, so there would be no Hesseans taking education there, and certainly not here in Hox. Mugroba, perhaps there may be some? Gior, who knows? Whole country is like a mens-club. What happens in Gior, stays in Gior and all that.” She smirked at her own joke, tilting her head to listen to the Hoxian as they explained the rise and fall of kingdoms and the acknowledgement or acceptance of these failures to learn. Her eyes drifted to the spinewolf, sipping the rest of her tea and nodding a little.

“Your umah is probably right, though I wouldn’t suggest she take her teachings to Hesse. We are known to be stubborn and hot headed, apparently.” The ninth form glanced at the Hexxos with a teasing smile, finishing the warm beverage as she did so. Pulling the mug away, Lilanee worried her lower lip, brow creasing slightly as an unspoken sense of guilt swept into Ezre’s sigh at the mention of her father. It was easier to push the thoughts of Jonathan far into her mind, then to dwell on the reality of what had happened. The Hessean put her hand on the other students arm, offering a small smile, and saying no more on the topic of her father or her land of birth.

After they had finished their small meal and packed up, Ezre spoke of the history left behind in the steppes, giving the young woman reason to grin with barely contained excitement as she hefted her pack onto her back and breathed onto her gloved hands.

“That would be quite the sight to see. Wick culture is…well it is something else to behold in honesty. A mongrel race, blended of humanity and galdori, from an anthropological perspective it’s fascinating to see where things divulged from and how they adapted to suit the means of the people. I’ve seen Anaxi wick Vitanism, and it’s so utterly different from the Hessean way, and I wonder…is that the influence of the humanity in them, or is it regional? Or did they just…make it all up along the way?” Slipping her glasses back on, Lilanee took the Hoxians hand absentmindedly, comfortable to walk with Ezre like that for as long as was plausible. She inhaled, exhaling steamy warm breath in excitement.

“I am ready.” She said with conviction, quite sure nothing could be as bad as the trip to Kzecka. Perhaps naïve to the fact that she was not at all experienced in knowing whether that was true or not. Her blue eyes were full of delight, and anticipation, the idea of reaching this library almost a sense of hype. Her imagination had created visions of what to expect, and she very much wanted to see if those expectations were true.