[Closed] Rituals and Sacrifices

[Lilanee Kuleda]

14th Vortas, 2719
BRUNNHOLD TO VIENDA | LATE EVENING, OVER THE CITY

Lilanee shrugged, unsure whether she should agree or disagree with Ezre’s commentary about his own views. She didn’t find him harsh, though at times she herself was known to be far too quick to put her own thoughts on matters into the spotlight. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t find it harsh, because it was as much as she did herself. Who had told him that? Was it Marissa or her little puppets? The Hessean would punch them square in their noses for it, that’s what she would do. Or was it Madeline? The girl was quite sensitive, maybe she saw it better than Lilanee did.

The panic rose as she spoke, worried about what she’d said and how to fix it, breathing sped up slightly and cheeks flushed with frustration and shame. The Hoxian shifted, making excuses for her behavior, and his lashes fluttered with the effort. Oh Gods she was making it worse! Her teeth pressed into the dusky curve of her lower lip firmly, not quite enough to break the skin, but enough to distract her from the feeling in her stomach. He was complicated, but she was smart! She thought she was anyway. If she could recreate the injury on a hundred years long dead passive femur, then she should in theory be able to figure out a clocking living breathing galdori.

I also am afraid that if you do see all of me that it will not at all be what you hoped for. I have a strange feeling this is a normal fear once one comes to realize just how much they care about someone else.

“Hoped for?” Lilanee blurted suddenly, almost laughing at the preposterousness of it, before catching her breath. She realized then that, actually, she had the same fear. Did that mean…

I've already got one loved one to worry about at the moment, I certainly don't need you to make it two.

Her own words came back to her then, and the flush of frustration on her cheeks darkened a little into something more intimate. What exactly, were they confessing to each other here? Did they entertain the idea of ‘love’? But, love was just a combination of chemical reactions in the brain causing a sense of ‘belonging’ and ‘union’. In the case of her father, and in some level her mother, it ensured that her parents wanted to protect her as an infant, and over time the familiarity was comforting to all involved. They loved her, because they were genetically designed to, and she them. The idea of ‘love’ itself was a fantasy. It was no more real than Daegerotes or hatchers.

Right?

That wasn’t to say they didn’t feel something toward each other, but admitting a label to it felt…well actually it felt right but it shouldn’t.

Ezre smiled, a bright rare thing, and Lilanee forgot her train of thought, focused on the beautiful way the light shifted on his features and seemed to illuminate the whole room. Oh, was it normal to be so giddy over a facial expression? The teenager swallowed hard at the direct conversation about their intercourse, unable to stop herself from brief flashes of memories, focusing hard on the actual words he was saying. Her hand slipped from her lip, and she let her lip escape, trying to make the concepts connect in her head.

Ezre had let go of the idea of gender, because as the Hexxos guide and with the awareness of the raen, he had freed himself emotionally and physically. He had made room, lest another take over, to ensure they were not bound by the idea of being a ‘man’ or a ‘woman’. At his question, Lilanee blushed. That was a taboo topic for Anaxas, and Hesse in some ways. And yet…

“I wasn’t attracted to your anatomy, you know that Ez. I was attracted to your mind, and your…soul. I would…it would be hard if you were female, if only because of Anaxi views on people of the same gender in an intimate relationship. But…I would...love...you the same. If you were to die, and inhabit a feminine form, I would still want what we have.” The truth of it was strange to hear out loud, and hard to admit without feeling a sense of dread. She had been raised in Anaxas, by a Hessean and an Anaxi. If they heard her speak just now, she would be immediately scolded and frankly put back onto the path society had written for her.

Ezre took her hand again, placing it firmly back on his chest and holding it there this time, and it was impossible not to notice the way his eyes strayed. He was leaning against her, so comfortably close, and Lilanee felt herself tilting her head ever so slowly closer. Her own periwinkle gaze drifted between the dark pools of his iris’ and the tattooed curve of his lip, unable to disguise the warmth in her field as they spoke of intimacy and love and attraction and how the anatomy didn’t matter. It was serious conversation, and for the first time, Lilanee felt like she understood.

They, really, is what Ezre should be called. Not a he or a she or any sort of limited construct of Anaxi right or wrong. They, them. She loved them.

Clocking hell, yes, she did love them.

I know that you always mean what you say, even if perhaps you say it in far more words than necessary. Your sincerity is genuine and lovely, vre'ia, and there are times I envy your transparency."

The teenager broke into a small giggle, not ashamed by the statement. It was true, she had a vast plethora of words at her disposal which she used in great force at all times, and Ezre liked that about her. Envied it even. She wanted to lean down and kiss them, her heart fit to thump out of her chest. Only then the ship lurched a tad, and Ezre closed their eyes and Lilanee was reminded that they were in no state for that sort of shenanigans.

By the Ten this had been an emotionally draining day.

She lifted her head, wetting her lips with her tongue and looking out of the window of their private cabin. It was dark outside, nothing but blackness greeting her from the beyond. Way down below, the lights of some township passed beneath them like reverse stars. It was beautiful, in an eerie way. The red head reached for her glasses, taking them from her face and settling them in her lap, rubbing the bridge of her nose, before looking back across Ezre and out the window.

“I don’t even know if I am sure of the direction I’m going myself to be honest. I’m scared, truthfully Ez.” The ninth form said quietly, her brow drawing slightly in thought as she tried to pull together her thoughts.

“I am positive he is alive, and I will do anything to prove that before I attend a false funeral or plan his flower arrangements. But I’m frightened that if we don’t find him, that if I was to ask you to look for him…amongst the dead…that you…that he’d…” Lilanee swallowed hard and looked down at her hand on the Hoxian’s chest.

“I’m scared that if you were to reach out to the dead, that he might reply. More than anything else in the whole world. I’m so scared.” The last words came out as a whisper, her throat trying to seize around them, thick with emotions that threatened to overwhelm the usually chatty Hessean. She smirked wryly, allowing her eyes to finally meet theirs again, brows lifting slightly.

“Of course, no matter which way he replies to us, I’m going to find my father. He doesn’t deserve to be left in the Anaxi wilds, no. He needs to come home to me.” Lilanee said firmly, though her lip trembled a little, and she inhaled deeply to fight off the tears that wanted to come. It was all to real saying it out loud, all the things she had danced around in Ezre’s room, and she didn’t know how to handle that.

[Ezre Vks]

In the Clouds

Late Evening on the 14th of Vortas, 2719

"Iam not going to—wait, you—" Ezre was not uncomfortable with the idea of love or being in it, with the thought of sharing his innermost feelings with someone else. Not really. Not in theory, anyway.

There were other things he was uncomfortable with, mostly when it came to knowing his boundaries with secrets and truths of his path in life, that felt much more complicated than emotional attachment. He was more afraid of being too different, too incompatible with the Anaxi-raised Hessean despite their common interests in history, anthropology, and each other's company. For all of their outward appearances, Hoxians weren't incapable of cultivating a vibrant and rich inner life so much as simply raised to share that life privately with others instead of publicly with everyone. Since his transfer to Brunnhold, he'd found so few friends and he valued all that he'd discovered with Lilanee.

"—Tccchhh. Anaxas feels so frustratingly backwards sometimes. They allow marriages between both of their very important, very separate genders in any combination but, then deny any—oh." He attempted to interject, but inhaled sharply instead. Ezre exhaled slowly, suddenly aware that he was blushing at her totally undisguised admissions.

Love, she said.

Was it an Estuan euphemism for physical attraction or was she revealing her feelings so plainly? Right now. In this moment of all moments. When the Clairvoyant student felt as though he'd been run over by several kenser-led carriages. He was not prepared for this depth of sharing, not after he'd been inside Tom Cooke's inebriated vestibule so far away.

He could have glossed over such honesty, really, nestled as it was between comments about the different shapes of their bodies and the wanting of such things, and while it was tempting to dwell on only the physical topics, Ezre was quite blindsided by the depth of emotion in her admission. He thought of his confirmed assurance at all the warmth and understanding that lay hidden beneath the surface of a borrowed galdori body revealed so gloriously during their scrying.

The dark-haired Guide blinked, delicate brows drawing inward, weighing his words for several long moments—a moment too long for anyone who wasn't a Hoxian, of course—before he finally smiled, "Have you cultivated such feelings for me? Really? I—"

Visibly flustered, Ezre's still-present expression was now a bright grin that seemed to take over his entire face, especially given how usually inexpressive the Hexxos was. Now felt like an odd time for such a confession, but he didn't want to dishonor or discourage Lilanee, considering how she'd made a point to interject her genuine feelings into a totally serious conversation,

"I like the way things are between us, but regardless of theorizing on the Evers of what could have been different, I would most assuredly love you the same as well. I must admit I do not favor the Estuan word for the collection of very real feelings I have for you, vre'ia, but the Deftung is difficult to translate into distinct concepts." It seemed like the right thing to say, and Ezre didn't stumble through it. He didn't hesitate, finding no shame in the admission. Now was a good time to express his contentment with how their friendship had grown and changed through their careful cultivation, and it was clear that the Hessean was in a place where such emotional support was surely undeniably welcome. He squeezed her hand, nodding as if it all made perfect sense, and fell quiet for several heartbeats that fluttered against her palm.

He wasn't ignorant of the way she chose to lean a little closer, her breath catching for a moment as her bright eyes drifted from meeting his dark gaze downward, washing over his smile. Tilting his head and shifting slightly, closing his eyes because the movement was hardly graceful, he pressed lips gently to her hair, red curls tickling his face when he moved to kiss her forehead, whispering against freckled skin,

"Please know that one cannot choose to become raen. I do not know if I would even make that choice if I was given it, as even I am aware it is not the natural way of things, regardless of who and what my umah is. I am not destined to share her burden simply by nature of my birth."

The Hexxos Guide admitted with more reluctance than he had his much more intimate and personal feelings for the redhead, eyes closed, cheek nestled close to hers. He sifted through her words like picking bones out of cremated ashes, some welcome form of relief quieting his nauseated insides at her admission that the red-haired young woman cared for his true self, wanted him for who he was, not what body he'd been born into. The rest of his words were just as quiet, and it was with reluctance that he leaned away, small room still spinning, but he didn't lean too far, snaking an arm behind the Hessean in order to keep her near.

This was neither of their dorm rooms. There were no hall monitors, no suite mates, no other residents from two doors down. This was not campus at all, but far above everything, and Ezre was perhaps currently too vulnerable, too separated from his rhakor in his current state of mind to not be tempted to express his otherwise reserved affections in such a gifted space of privacy. They rarely had such moments, given that they both lived in the dormitories, but by Bash's fiery insides, it was difficult to ignore just how much overstepping had taken its toll on him. His free hand moved to one of his pockets, pressing himself mischievously closer while fishing out his small timepiece, the silvered watch tinkling among the seerstones it shared a place with on his person. He glanced at it, barely tilting his head because he was comfortable.

They still had a whole house to themselves. Perhaps he could ignore his exhaustion for a third of it and they could return to this emotional, anatomical discussion from a different approach of expressiveness—

His mind had wandered. It was Ezre's turn to giggle, distracted, as he refocused. Tucking the pocket watch away and gently biting the inked curve of his lower lip as if holding back some devious comment, he made some consonant-filled sound of contentment, curling his dizzy self against the Hessean invitingly, encouraged in a way by her difficult truths. He didn't seek to remove her hand from his tattooed skin, inhabiting the intimacy of their conversation in the same way as he'd inhabited the unfiltered sharing of consciousness with the not-Incumbent raen,

"I have never even considered trying to search for a soul that has already passed within the Cycle after death, not so directly. I do not think it is possible. I have gingerly experimented with the concept, but not with any success. I have touched the minds of raen who are stuck in between here with the living, but if you believe your father still lives, I will not need to attempt any such thing. That said, I would not be opposed to trying. However, reaching the living, especially across Anaxas into the mist, will be difficult also. I am not without ideas." The Hexxos Guide spoke with a calm, even tone, unable to deny the waver of fear and devotion in Lilanee's voice. She cared, obviously, and was worried.

Ezre was unsure of whether or not he could provide the answers she was looking for, the answers she needed, whether the man was alive or dead, but he was more than willing to exhaust himself in trying. All he could offer was his comfort for now, limited though that was. His dark eyes widened at her smirk, however, and the Hoxian tilted his head, close though he already was to her lovely face and trembling lips as she fought back tears. His hands wandered, drawing her closer still in his surprise,

"What do you mean you will go to find him, vre'ia? If he is lost in the west, you surely do not mean you intend to go there after him, do you?"

[Lilanee Kuleda]

14th Vortas, 2719
BRUNNHOLD TO VIENDA | LATE EVENING, OVER THE CITY

She’d used the word on purpose, meant it as much as one could mean a word they begrudgingly admitted applied to them. It was inserted casually, as though it was the most normal and obvious thing in the world, but inside her heart set fit to beat so fast it might explode.

Lilanee saw the expression on the Hoxians face, brows drawn and oh Gods she should take it back. She had to take it back! There was a long pause, too long, and the Hessean sought to fill it.

“I uh…um…meaning to say…erm…” The Hexxos’ smile, and almost wondrous tone stopped her dead, and it was all Lilanee could do not to nod like her head was on a string.

“Ah…uh-huh. Mmhm. Yep. Yes. You don’t have to…like it’s okay if you don’t…er…” Her lip in between her teeth was like the cork in a leaking waterskin, shades of teenage awkwardness painted all across her face. Till they smiled, oh dear she was useless under that rare event.

…regardless of theorizing on the Evers of what could have been different, I would most assuredly love you the same as well.

The red head inhaled, as though to say something long winded and vaguely related. Instead she hummed a small sound of delight and squeezed their hand in return.

Well there it was then. They both admitted to that feeling that had a name in Estuan, but perhaps was not enough to express the feelings it contained. Lilanee felt a small smile creep onto her lips, quietly content with the Hoxian as they sat together in the private room, her gaze flitting to their face, their lips, leaning slightly. Her hand felt their heartbeat fluttering underneath tawny skin, matching the beat of her own. This wasn’t appropriate really, after everything, but then, maybe it was. Maybe it was exactly appropriate. Ezre pressed warm lips to her hair, to her forehead, and Lilanee closed her eyes and sighed.

Have some decency girl!

She heard the other student talk about the choice—or lack there of—when it came to becoming a raen, and whilst it was probably supposed to reassure her, the Hessean just felt that same strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. It felt like something that would never entirely go away, like knowing that one day they would graduate and have to be adults. Just because you knew the truth, it didn’t always settle well.

Ezre leaned away, though their hand curled around behind her waist, and Lilanee removed her glasses to her lap and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She missed the drawing of the timepiece from the tawny creatures pocket, looking across him out the window, attempting to drag her thoughts away from the simpler and less complicated act of physical intimacy. The Hoxian wouldn’t want that anyway, being away from the closed door of their dorm room. Of course, it was probably more private here than their bedrooms, but it was still ‘public’. Tucking her legs under her on the chair, Lilanee glanced at the raven haired teenager as they giggled softly, offering a brief smile again before letting the thoughts of contact with her father weigh on her mind.

She nodded as the Hexxos spoke of their Clairvoyant ideas, blinking back her near-tears in frustration and moved to close the arms of her glasses to place them on the small sill on the window across from Ezre, distracting herself with the movement. Shifting a little to be closer to the onyx eyed student, Lilanee turned her face a little towards Ezre’s, almost close enough to brush her nose against their own. Her spring sky eyes looked over his face, fingers tracing unconscious patterns over the inked markings on their chest. Highs and lows of the day left the Hessean feeling like she had trudged through sinking sand, or had forgotten to sleep. It was hard work, these emotions and feelings, far more so than spending a day in intense study or completing an exam.

It would be nice to kiss the Hoxian. Even if for no other reason than to find comfort from the day that was and the day that would be. Her lips parted, and she turned her head a little further, tracing the line on their lower lip with her gaze. There wasn’t a sense of discomfort in their field, her own mingling warming in between the Clairvoyant particles. The Hessean’s heartbeat sounded loud in her own ears. Just a kiss, a brief interlude in this whirlwind of a mess, if Ezre wanted to…

"What do you mean you will go to find him, vre'ia? If he is lost in the west, you surely do not mean you intend to go there after him, do you?"

Lilanee halted her distracted thoughts, freezing only a hairs breath from the soft curve of the other teenagers mouth, before drawing back slightly with a frown.

“Of course I do.” The redhead said matter-of-factly, as though it was already assumed that she would, meeting the dark pools of their eyes.

“Mother has given up on him, and Brunnhold won’t provide resources to a project outside of their remit. I’m not going to let him die out there alone, or worse yet, leave his bones for the beasts. If no one else is going to find him, then I clocking well will. It will mean I may have to take some time off from Brunnhold, but I am sure I will make the time up.” Lilanee furrowed her brow as her thoughts collided with her mouth, coming out in a torrent of words.

“And I will need a few days to organize things like traveling gear and maps, maybe a guide. Though its Anaxas. Who needs a guide in Anaxas really? But of course, its West Anaxas, and I understand it can be a bit wild there so a guide is probably good. Oh, and maybe one of those wicks that can track things. I know its abhorrent, a wick of all things, but truthfully it’s not like any of the Anaxi galdori have a clue how to do anything except puff their chests and talk about the weather. You wouldn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, I’d understand. Travelling into the West of Anaxas, most likely by moa or by foot, anyone would be daunted by such a task. But I’ve traveled before, with father. Sometimes I got to go do his dig sites.” She was caught up now, lost in facts and excited by memories, brows shooting up and mouth turning upward into a smile.

“Oh! Once, he took me almost all the way to Mugroba. The swamp between here and the desert is full of the most fascinating relics. Animals and people from hundreds of years past that have died in the mud and sludge and the bacteria in the bog actually preserves their bodies. It’s extraordinarily fascinating. Did you know that you can actually find bodies that are so well preserved, it looks like they only died days ago rather then years! When I find father, he could take us up there and we could look ourselves. Imagine finding one! We could name it, our own discovery.” Comfortable in her deluge of mind-to-mouth moment, the red haired Hessean had slipped closer to the Hoxian again, excited by visions of discovery and academic acolades.

[Ezre Vks]

In the Clouds

Late Evening on the 14th of Vortas, 2719

It was an unexpected comfort to speak so plainly, to once again simply be honest. There was most likely a handful of proverbs about telling the truth, especially when it came to matters of the heart, all of them probably written with careful hands long ago and tucked lovingly onto shelves in one of the sacred libraries of Kzecka. Ezre might have even read one or two of them as a child, nestled among the ancient books during some winter storm, though he'd perhaps never considered just how those snippets of wisdom would come to apply to his life at the time.

Lilanee had surprised herself with her words or his facial expression had made her suddenly self-aware, for the Hoxian watched worry and regret play itself out across her freckled features. There was an awkward moment of quiet, the weight of their meaningful exchange settling between them with a tangible warmth, the dark-haired Guide content with the sound of his pulse and the Hessean's small sound of agreement. It wasn't as though either of them knew what to do with how they felt about each other, save speak those truths out loud and see where the path led them both.

It was plenty. It was enough.

It was a much lighter, freeing sort of truth than what Lilanee had come to know of raen, of ghosts, and of the Hexxos Guide's association with them all. There was only so much he could say to quell the fear she felt, and only time would temper her understanding. He'd come to realize that his own level of comfort with the Cycle of life and death and the supernatural was not necessarily at all normal.

Ezre didn't miss the straying of her attention, the wandering of her pale blue gaze over his face. Perhaps there was still blood somewhere, and as the pair shifted to find themselves closer and more comfortable on the padded, sofa-like bench of a cabin seat, he paused to make use of what spare clean space there was of the small hand towel after tucking his watch away. The other ninth form removed her glasses, leaning over his whole self to set them on the little windowsill next to the cold, thick glass and he sighed, resisting the urge to curl both arms upward and draw her closer still, to invite her into his lap.

Now wasn't perhaps the most appropriate moment—was it?

The Hessean did no assistance to his currently very dissociative state of reasoning, did no favors to his very emotion-filled momentary distraction. She didn't settle where she had before, suddenly so close, breath tickling the delicate contours of his face. The weight of her field, full of its own physical gravity, mingled with his own, settling between them like layers of blankets against the high altitude, Vortas chill. He was quite sure he could hear her unspoken thoughts as if they were said aloud, and he moved only slightly against her: making room, giving an invitation even though he had no endurance left for any more spellwork.

Ezre tilted his head, ignoring the ringing in his ears, ignoring the way the airship's private cabin seemed to wobble with his Clairvoyant-disturbed equilibrium off-kilter as it was, and yet, nearly brushing her lips in their proximity, he couldn't help his surprise at her statement, questioning her intentions with such unfiltered swiftness.

The Hoxian blinked, watching her eyes widen, feeling the slow inhale because of how close her body was to his—and. Well. That was that. Words filled the space between them instead of any eager press of warm lips, and. Well. Anyone else most likely would have been disappointed that what could have definitely been a selfishly indulgent, totally inappropriately-timed kiss turned instead into a very excited, very rapid exposition on Lilanee's plans.

Ezre had asked.

He was patient.

He found her sudden determination and excitement far more attractive than the average person who didn't know her at all.

He leaned his head back, settling into the seat and idly letting his inked fingers drift over the green wool of her uniform, reluctantly lifting them from her person to reach up and untie his rather disheveled topknot. Dark eyes held her bright, periwinkle hues without a hint of impatience or annoyance as she spoke of wicks and moas, of the misty, supposedly hatcher-filled western territory of Anaxas, and finally of Mugroba. The Hoxian was smiling, cheeks warmed by their closeness, heart full from the comforts of a friend, from magical accomplishment, and from meaningful emotional exchange.

He listened, nodding here, arching a delicate brow there, reserving himself from interjecting even if he wanted to. Finally, he when the redheaded young woman attempted to tell him he didn't at all need to accompany her, reaching up to place two fingers over her mouth with a hiss between his teeth, "Tcch. If I am to help you prove your otsur is alive, do you not think I would help you find him? There is absolutely no way you would be going into Western Anaxas without me."

The dark-haired Guide didn't frown or pout, but there was enough concern in his tone to make his own feelings on the matter all the more clear with a not-often expressed level of emphasis, here as they were in private, here as he was already laid bare by the stretching of himself in purely cognitive scrying. He gently moved his fingers from her lips, tracing them downward slowly over the familiar curve of her chin and throat instead of merely removing his hand, still meeting Lilanee's periwinkle gaze,

"This all sounds rather dangerous, and it will take careful planning. I do not think just the two of us should attempt such a thing alone. Perhaps there will be some helpful research to be had in the libraries of my home before we decide to travel into the hatcher-filled wilds without a clear sense of direction?" Ezre added softer, quieter, searching her face before she tucked herself closer again and whatever else he was going to say about preservation of bodies, Mugrobi methods of traditional burial, and the Clairvoyant Prefect who'd showed his class her fascinating map-making processes all seemed insignificant in the moment. He tousled through his own hair, hands slowly moving downward, gentle over her own red curls before wrapping arms around the Hessean in acomfortable embrace. He murmured a few extra sentences, voice dropping in volume further, "One thing at a time, vre'ia. The beautiful city of Frecks was not carved out of the Spondola Mountains in one day. We must first find Kuleda-vumash or at least confirm one assumption over the other. I have ideas on how to do that, and this evening has proven that I am, at least, capable of possibly doing so. It will not be easy."

Close as they were, his last sentence was spoken as he shifted only slightly, tilting his head to once again press tattooed lips to Lilanee's forehead, eyes fluttering shut briefly as he lingered there, her words bright and hot like lava flowing through his jumbled thoughts. It was a lot to sort through, a lot to consider, and the Hexxos Guide was not in the state of mind to think on these difficult things with any true sense of clarity. Exhausted but not sleepy, he'd already projected those thoughts from the clouds to Vienda, from his own body all the way into Tom Cooke's mind and back again, though admittedly those same thoughts wandered now toward the lovely Hessean who he indeed cared far more deeply about than he felt words sufficient for, who had pressed herself just so into his arms.

"We have named our own discovery: you and I, together, giving a definition to how we feel." He teased, smiling again, wishing to convey his relief in the meeting of their hearts. To know they stood in the same place with each other before facing her mother (or anyone else, for that matter) took a weight off of his narrow shoulders he had vaguely been aware he'd burdened himself with when he'd read the letter she brought tearfully into his dormitory. This lightness made him almost giddy in the revelation, effervescent despite the seriousness of their conversation, and he leaned inward to kiss her gently, just once, as if it was easier to express such things so physically.

Inhaling slowly, Ezre didn't make any demands. He almost shrugged, tilting his head back to look at Lilanee again, "I do not want to change the subject, for this is all important discussion. We are quite alone here, and it is a good time to ... talk. We have another house of flight left to sort through things, I suppose."

Maybe the Guide smirked mischievously. Maybe he meant what he said. Maybe he was giving permissions.

[Lilanee Kuleda]

14th Vortas, 2719
BRUNNHOLD TO VIENDA | LATE EVENING, OVER THE CITY

Lilanee continued to speak as the Hoxian reached for the topknot that was barely holding their hair out of the way of their face, watching deft fingers release the dark locks loosely around a finely featured face, not stopping her words—not even slowing them—but watching all the same. She liked it when he—no they—they wore their hair out.
​​
​​She needed to ask about that pronoun. He? They? What did Ez want to be called actually? Anaxi sensibilities aside.
​​
​​The red haired teenager felt encouraged by the other student’s patient expression and slow smile, her own lips curving upwards without provocation. It was obvious even to herself how her words had a way of flowing forth relentlessly, and Ezre’s quiet acceptance of that was more attractive and more comforting than anything else. Lilanee felt safe, validated, heard. It was hard to stop herself when she started, too caught up in familiar rhythms and nervous mind-to-mouth release, and the Hexxos’ nods and facial expressions only stirred her on. Inhaling between words, Lilanee prepared for more commentary, only to be abruptly—albiet sweetly—halted by two tattooed fingers over her mouth. Blue eyes wide, the ninth form blushed with warm delight at their firm assurance should she go off into Western Anaxas, she wouldn't be alone.
​​
​​There was an assuredness in the raven haired Hoxian’s tone, a rare definite sway to their words. The offer to come with her wasn't made lightly, nor was it negotiable. Lilanee would have smiled, or made some long winded reply of gratitude, but then inked fingers traced over her lips to slip down over the pale curve of her chin. They kept going, teasing over the sensitive freckled skin of her throat, onyx pools holding her periwinkle gaze captive. She couldn’t bring herself to look away, seeing in the teenagers eyes that same out of place needfulness that simmered in her chest.
​​
​​Wait, really?
​​
​​The Hessean remembered to inhale, tucked closer to the Hexxos, thinking over their suggestion about visiting Hox before looking for her father after this Clarvoyaint event. Could they afford the time? Should they? If he was alive, every moment might matter.
​​
​​If he wasn't—
​​
​​No. She refused to entertain that line of thought.
​​
​​Ezre embraced her, and Lilanee felt the timbre of his quiet voice all the way to the tips of her toes, half expecting the other student to give her a Proper And Respectable Privacy refresher. Instead, they pressed their lips to her forehead in a gently loving act. If the red haired had been holding her breath for an intimate moment, she was fooling herself. The tension was from exhaustion, both emotionally and physically, and her head was all funny. Her field was tangled in Ezre’s, so it was easy enough to mistake her feelings for their own and vice versa. It was late. They both should try to rest some more.
​​
​​We have named our own discovery: you and I, together, giving a definition to how we feel
​​
​​The ninth form’s smile matched their own, and she slipped her hands around their torso so they were tangled together in a snuggly ball of contentment near the window of their private airship room. Ezre tilted their head, and she closed her eyes, expecting that same gentle brush of their lips against her forehead. Instead, warm contact against her mouth caught the Hessean by surprise, and she hummed a quiet sound of contentment as the Hexxos took their time before drawing back a little.
​​
​​Inhaling deeply, reluctantly opening her eyes, Lilanee’s heartbeat roared in her ears. Had the Clarvoyiancy stolen his fear of public view? Or maybe, was it still Ezre really in there? Surely this was most definitely not Tom hanging around in the Hexxos’ head for fun.
​​
​​Ew no. That would be weird.
​​
​​The red head glanced away from those rich dark pools to look at the door to the room, hazy without her glasses, before turning back to Ezre with an almost shy smile.
​​
​​ “I wasn’t sure if this was okay. I mean. It feels so strange to want to…to need to touch. After everything that's happened I thought it might be inappropriate, and then the room. It's on a public facility, and I just figured you’d never want to…talk.” She brushed their nose with her own gently with a soft giggle, before returning the tender kiss with an unhurried movement. Her hand stroked across inked tawny skin, over a shoulder, and back to disappear under the open green of his clothing.
​​
​​ “Definitely important discussion.” Lilanee muttered against his mouth, nipping suddenly at the delightfully inked lower lip.

[Ezre Vks]

In the Clouds

Late Evening on the 14th of Vortas, 2719

"If we do discover your father is alive and if he has been wherever he is for almost a year already, I understand your eagerness to help him to safety. I also know we are students, currently, not explorers, no matter what my Hexxos title of Guide may imply to the religious fantasy of everyone who hears it." The Hoxian was not attempting to be rude so much as practical, wanting very much to be caught up in Lilanee's enthusiasm but quite aware of the rumors of danger that they were perhaps not as prepared for as they wanted to be. The East Garden had been a lesson in what he thought he knew and he didn't want to repeat his own mistakes. Instead of pulling away, however, he simply kept her close, almost whispering into her hair,

"I want to make certain that we do not end up becoming the ones in need of rescue. Who would come find us? Do we need to take time off of school to do this? Do you know how dangerous the journey will be? Whether we are going to perform a service for the dead or to bring home someone living, it will not be a tour of the Crypts. Thank the Circle that once I establish a connection with Kuleda-vumash, we will be able to continue to communicate more easily in subsequent castings. It is that first contact that will be the most difficult if today's experiment is any indication. We may also be able to map our route—" Ezre spoke with genuine concern mingled with his own form of enthusiasm. He felt quite keenly the consequences of his Clairvoyant attempt this evening, and it was only to Vienda from here. His words were just said with a slightly more distracted tone of voice than he'd expected, nestled together on the well-padded bench of the small private room, high above the Anaxi landscape.

It probably should've mattered that his sinuses ached and his hands trembled. It probably should've mattered that every joint was already sore and his ears rang. But, honestly? With Lilanee so comfortably against his magically-exhausted person, it was surprisingly difficult to bring himself to care.

The Hessean was not offended by the somewhat unexpected timing of a kiss, and she was clearly reluctant to glance away from his tattooed face before looking to the door. Oh, the door. Was it locked? Did it matter? Who would come after them save for perhaps that miffed older woman, eager to conform the Hexxos Guide to her sense of gender normalcy? He smiled back, slowly, bringing his attention into focus on the young woman curled in his arms like some physical anchor from the mental, magical ether he'd just been adrift in for so long,

"—well, I think we can continue to be honest—it is not often we can be this alone. Our dormitories are a public facility, but it is maybe more observed than this public airship under the guise of student protection, especially after the violence in Hamis. We have managed thus far to enjoy each other's company." Ezre chuckled almost coyly with the subtlest shake of his head as if expressing the obviousness of their situation, "There is a vulnerability to sharing fears and feelings, and your body with mine is a comfort I cannot pretend I do not enjoy."

As straightforward as he always was when most free from the many layers of his rhakor, the dark-haired student closed his eyes when she returned his kiss, sighing a slow breath through his nose with the sudden movement of her palm under the scratchy wool of his uniform shirt, skin on skin. He hummed, surprised at the nip of teeth in a good way, heat crawling from the base of his skull while he laughed against Lilanee's mouth some soft, amused chuckle in response. A tilt of his chin kept her close for a totally unapologetic and much less idle expression of interest, returning a taste of nibbling roughness out of curiosity, eventually pausing for a breath,

"I probably should not desire this sort of, uh, conversation, given that I now know the full effects of purely cognitive scrying on my person. It was quite amazing, by the way, though I must learn more mental self control, and—" Ezre nearly whispered, lips brushing hers while he admitted with unveiled chagrin just how far he'd overstepped, relaxing into her touch. Tattooed hands wandered over her back, lightly meandering without any real purpose until his fingers traced downward to untuck his shirt from the uncomfortable, too-high hemline of his Brunnhold uniform, giving her more freedom of movement should she wish it, "—I am also not the sort of tired that begs for sleep, given my anxiousness over this funeral business with your family I have never met for a man that may not even be dead. Not to mention trepidation at your suggestion we should travel into the misty wilds of Western Anaxas after him."

The dark-haired Hexxos smiled with tangible mischief in the airy warmth of his Clairvoyant-laden field, shifting to support more of himself against the wall of their small airship cabin, leaning near the windowsill and inviting her her to move with him, inviting her finally into his lap as he'd wanted before. Encouraging the Hessean to sit as she wished, whether she curled sideways against his person or more boldly straddled his hips, he wasn't quite making the invitation to complete distraction.

Not yet, anyway.

He did want to make space for such an opportunity, however, to leave that as open as he felt in this moment, but his mind was so very busy and it was a challenge to focus on any one thing, whether that was the warm flush of her cheeks or the seriousness of all that lay before them once they landed in Vienda. Ghosts in the East Garden had been serious, too, and yet important discussions had been set aside then, also. Expression had so many forms, after all, and the Hoxian didn't always feel at all on par with the Hessean and her use of language.

"Private and not-private are sometimes situational, and I understand that I have been raised to maintain very strict boundaries. You make keeping those boundaries well-defined difficult, but that is not a complaint, vre'ia."

Ezre laughed again, mostly at himself it seemed, the soft sound almost inaudible above the pulse ringing loudly in his ears like defiantly swift rhythm in spite of his lingering vertigo. Dark eyes met Lilanee's pale hues, finally grinning, familiar colors brightening his field, mingled as it was with hers. Carefully redirecting her hand back to where it had been on his chest, he shrugged again, but this time it was definitely in a sarcastic mockery of dismissal, "I am not sure about propriety in this situation given that I have paid for privacy with the tickets bought for us both, but I do not mind claiming cultural ignorance as to what that so-called privacy entails."

[Lilanee Kuleda]

14th Vortas, 2719
BRUNNHOLD TO VIENDA | LATE EVENING, OVER THE CITY

Lilanee raised a curved eyebrow, drawing inspiration from the very man she sought to find.
​​
​​ “No one is really, truly an explorer, until they are, Mister Vks.” Smirking, she tilted her head slightly.
​​
​​ “Mister? He? What would you prefer I address you as, Ezre?” The red head asked with genuine care and curiosity. Tucked closer to the other student, she listened when they spoke about not wanting to become the ones in need of rescue, nodding slightly in understanding if not entirely agreement. Of course, the Hoxian spoke logic and sense, but the Hessean would reserve her comments until they knew more. It would make more sense to plan once they knew more.
​​
​​The soft kiss was a welcome distraction, and Lilanee relished in the simplicity of it. Everything right now was so hard, so complex…engaging in flirting and tempting physical contact was an easy out. For a short while at least.
​​
​​She nodded again, not really thinking about the publicity of the dormitories till just now, gladly returning the kiss with a mischievous press of teeth against a temptingly inked lip. Ezre’s laugh caught her off-guard, and the teenager couldn't help her giggle in return, this time prepared for the press of the Hexxos’ mouth. She engaged in kind, more than just a comfortable peck, an excited rush of sensation running through her as the usually quiet student returned her experimental nip.
​​
​​Oh my.
​​
​​ “Oh I agree. You did something amazing, something dangerous. Wanting to…discuss…such things is probably a bit too much.” Lilanee murmured back, reaching to help the ninth form with the shirt, unashamedly running her fingers over the tattoos on their torso. She could draw them in her sleep, but they were still lovely to trace.
​​
​​ “It’s just permafog that clings to the deciduous plant life in the West. There are all sorts of ridiculous stories about the mists but truly they are nothing more than that. Stories. I mean, if Hatchers did exist, don’t you think we’d have found one by now? At least a dead one?” Jumping to logic over mythology, Lilanee almost rolled her eyes, distracted instead by Ezre’s shifting. They leaned back against the wall, stretched on the seat, and encouraged by warm hands, the Hessean moved to curl sideways against the Hoxian. She tugged her skirt up, allowing freedom for her knee to tangle over Ezre’s own legs. Tucked close, the young woman carefully brushed away the open shirt and jacket, casual in her approach.
​​
​​ “You are welcome, I guess?” She said with a laugh, lifting her gaze from the student’s tattooed skin to dark onyx eyes. The full glow of the Hoxian’s smile was captivating, and Lilanee sucked her lip between her teeth to stop herself from almost aggressively taking another kiss from them. There were colors in the students field, familiar and bright, which did nothing to dampen the magenta in hers. Ezre guided her hand to rest on their chest again, and Lilanee couldn't resist slipping taking full advantage of the loosened clothing by slipped both arms around the warmth of the ninthform’s waist.
​​
​​Tangled around the Hoxian, the red haired Hessean hummed in contentment.
​​
​​ “Culutral ignorance? Seems like an accurate depiction. Besides, as you said, it's a paid, private cabin.” As if to make a point, the teenager moved her hand briefly to loosen a few buttons on her dress, before sweeping it back into place onto their chest.
​​
​​ “What was it like? The scrying, I mean. I’m not good at any form of Clarvoyiancy, so I can’t begin to image it was easy. How did you establish a connection, I mean how did you find him? Did you speak, or was it more like…when you think words to yourself? Did Tom know you were doing it, or was it a surprise? How did ‘Raen' feel? Was it cold? I imagine it's cold inside there.” Lilanee expressed with fascination, noting mentally those things she would put into her journal later. Her field filled the room with passionate interest, warm and clearly expressing her wants, though she could hear the exhaustion and was content with what they had. Cuddling, close as they were, with a few delighted kisses, was perfectly fine should that be all the Hoxian wanted.
​​
​​It was fair though, that should they remain this comfortable she might drift off again. And that would be quite okay for her too.

[Ezre Vks]

In the Clouds

Late Evening on the 14th of Vortas, 2719

"No one can be a true-hearted Guide without first seeking guidance." Ezre offered in Deftung first, Estuan second, the Hoxian's native tongue heavy on the consonants in a way that seemed to lower his voice, especially in their proximity. He opened his mouth to make another comment, but instead, dark eyes widened at the unexpected question, "I—"

He paused, tattooed lower lip caught for a moment beneath his teeth as if he had to seriously consider his response. Tom Cooke had asked, and the once-human had made far more effort than any Anaxi galdor had to refer to the Hexxos in what could only be called a proper manner. For all their personal time together, Ezre had yet to insist in his correction of Lilanee, never objected to her use of masculine pronouns for his person short of informing her that he was neither and teaching her the Deftung word should she decide to make it part of her vocabulary. He'd made choices, first in Hox when he became a Hexxos acolyte and then in Anaxas when he agreed in his own way to conform to their persistent gender binary.

He'd made choices on how to relate to the Hessean, and, in all fairness, he was hardly offended, aware that the concepts his spiritual path followed were outside of most cultural references, save perhaps the onjira of Mugroba.

"—thank you. For asking. I did not want to—I was not going to—I thought to leave some things on terms you were comfortable with."

The dark-haired Guide breathed first, remembering to say out loud the gratitude that filled his senses, making sure to say what was most important while blinking slowly with the warmth that blossomed in his tattooed chest not simply because of the weight of her palm upon it, "Vks-xî is the most proper, I suppose. Ezre-xî. Ezre. You have often chosen to drop the last syllable entirely, which is understandable given how understated it is in Deftung and settled on Ez as a nickname. I do not dislike it. As cxîl, instead of -vumein or -vumash, I am -xî. I could have—I did not want to—I have not felt pressured to correct you, as I realize it is a strange thing to grasp—my absence of gender—given all you know and have seen of me."

He was blushing, foolishly in his opinion, and a sharp heat stung the edges of his eyes that was not at all embarrassment, "The word vre'ia is not gender-specific." Ezre added almost shyly, having already defined and used the term of affection for Lilanee, "But I am not bothered by he or mister as I have already chosen to conform to those presentations in Anaxas. I am am aware of how important appearances are here in this Kingdom, even if sometimes I feel as though many Anaxi have chosen to blatantly ignore the unseen."

He chuckled, as willing to be distracted as he was to be a distraction, welcoming the rather heated pause in more serious conversation with a curious level of interest in the novelty of less than entirely gentle explorations. Her hands moved to help him untuck his shirt, making fun of them both with her subtle use of double meanings and the Hoxian was aware of his grin, of the light touch of her fingers over inked lines that were now very familiar to the Hessean, and then of her return to a slightly more serious tone.

Only surely she wasn't entirely serious!

One delicate brow arched at her explanation for the misty mysteries of Western Anaxas while he shifted their bodies without any of the same kind of subtlety she'd previously possessed. As Lilanee chose to settle against him, Ezre couldn't help but follow the motion of her hands, dark eyes watching the motion of her fingers drifting from his skin to curl into the fabric of her skirt and then trailing back again, willingly exposing more of the tattooed landscape of himself for her to touch,

"Permafog? You cannot possibly tell me you do not believe in mythic beasts, either." There was an edge of incredulity to the Hoxian's otherwise quiet, even tone of voice that might have bordered on exasperation had the Hessean not been just as she was in his lap, her fingers wandering. Ghosts. Gods. And now? Mythic beasts. By Bash's merciful molten heart, Ezre sighed, dark eyelashes fluttering heavily as he attempted to suppress the very real urge to roll his eyes, choosing to channel the heat of his confused amusement at the young woman's stubborn clinging to logic and science into a different sort of warmth: he slipped a hand beneath the layers of her skirt to rest a palm purposefully on her thigh, holding her in place with far more emotional integrity than he thought she should be holding to her beliefs, "I have heard rumors on campus—about hatchers, that is. Hatchers in Gior. Beneath Qrieth, to be specific. You would be surprised what gets whispered in the halls of the Clairvoyant Wing of Brunnhold's campus."

Lilanee chose to curl closer, reaching beneath his open shirt to embrace him while the red ringlets of her hair tickled his chest. There was a moment of quiet, just breathing and thinking, and Ezre was sure he could hear the precise moment his pulse picked up in tempo when she made her soft noise of contentment, the sound tangible against the inked plane of his sternum. His free hand tucked loose hair away from her face, the Guide unable to help but smirk at her agreement about their purchased moment of privacy,

"I used the seerstone I had made for Cooke-vumash when in Hox, of course."

He shifted, perhaps somewhat selfishly, leaning to press inward for a lingering kiss as if to make sure she had no reason to worry over his judgments on their cultural differences, as if to make sure she knew he was a safe place for differing views, regardless of how much he disagreed. While he did so, he produced from his pocket the ivory rose with the scrystone inside, turning it over in his fingers as he explained his rather unorthodox decisions. The hand that held her gripped a little firmer, anchoring him in the moment before he leaned away again, exhaling a slower, more ragged breath, "Tom has the matching stone in the form of a small pocket watch just as your matching stone is set in a kestrel skull. The connection between the pair already exists, so I merely modified the spell. Instead of speaking, I thought what I wanted to say. It is decidedly more difficult to control than spoken words: emotions, images, stray thoughts are slippery to filter. I am disoriented without my rhakor—who sees the me beneath my layers other than you? I did not forewarn him any more than you warned me before arriving in my dorm room this afternoon, vre'ia, and I think I interrupted a social gathering. I also think he might have been a little drunk, but—wait—what? Cold—"

That touched something soft. Something sore. Something already bruised, freshly so. The glow of amusement faded quickly with her further questioning. Delicate brows drew together and it was impossible to miss the clench in the Hoxian's jaw.

Monster, Tom had called himself.

Ghosts are already dead. You are still alive. Ezre had insisted.

"—cold like a corpse? Dru. Why would you imagine that?"

There had been a real warmth inside that unstable vestibule. A genuine presence, a living soul inside that borrowed body instead of an empty tomb animated by something that shouldn't be.

Had he not been born of the same?

"As a raen, he felt perhaps somewhat as he would have in life. Because he is alive. Just ... misplaced."

Ezre licked tattooed lips that had just been so distractingly against hers and looked away for a moment, tilting his head to stare at the door, the floor, the ceiling, gathering his thoughts, attempting to scramble for the right words. Finally, he brought his dark eyes back to meet Lilanee's periwinkle hues, clearly struggling with how to feel and what to say, caught off-guard by the emotions he'd already had dragged to the surface of his inner self through the scryed conversation she was simply asking after.

She didn't mean it to be offensive, he knew, and yet he desperately wanted to take offense. The colors of arousal and comfort that had lightly mingled through her field shifted darker, duller, and Ezre forced himself not to pull away, not to withdraw behind the familiar walls of non-feeling he'd been raised to wear so well,

"He is not unkind. Gruff, lost, afraid, angry even, zjai, but in life, I do not believe he was given many of the right choices. I—this—I cannot—I am sorry—" The Hexxos Guide closed his eyes, unable to hold Lilanee's any longer, a tension coiling in his body that had once been relaxed beneath hers, he made no motion to writhe free of their otherwise comfortable embrace. He needed the reminder, letting the tenderness of what they shared, what they'd just shared, temper the sting he felt inside, considering he was quite sure he'd just been here, hadn't he?

Do not compare yourself with ghosts, please—

The differences are impossible.

The differences are subtle.

I am desperately biased, I know—

"—I am desperately biased, I know—" Ezre whispered word's he'd only thought, emotions projected magically across the Anaxi landscape once already. The lovely young woman had found the seam that'd held him together after his Clairvoyant overstepping and she was sharp like a pair of scissors. He swallowed and tried again, hiding behind the ruddy dark of his eyelids because he was otherwise indisposed, laid bare. Slowly, he found himself somewhere, but his words were so very quiet, strained as if across the great distance he'd already traveled,

"—he is a surprisingly warm person. On the inside."

Opening his eyes again, blinking at the heat of tears that burned behind them, he added, "In the same way as you have learned to look beyond the outside appearance that I present to the world as a Hoxian, I would ask that you would grant the same generosity to raen. At least to Tom. And perhaps my umah. I am sure there are raen roaming Vita who never existed with any light in their souls in life, let alone in their unlife."

[Lilanee Kuleda]

14th Vortas, 2719
BRUNNHOLD TO VIENDA | LATE EVENING, OVER THE CITY

Tilting her head in acknowledgement of the Hoxian words, the red haired Hessean agreed to disagree, interested in the definition for the student she canoodled with. The impact her seemingly simple question had on the dark haired youth surprised Lilanee, and she focused her distracted attention on Ezre. This was imported to him, and therefore it was important to her.

“Discomfort means we are learning, and I enjoy learning. So, no, don’t hold back on these things Ez, especially if they matter to you.” The girl interjected, before listening intently to the Hoxian’s words, smiling a little at the commentary around the shortening of the ninth form’s name. It felt natural, to call Ez that, because for her it was a term of endearment. Much like vre’ia was to him.

Drawing her brow in thought, Lilanee tested the Deftung out loud.

“So when I speak of you, should I refer to you as xi? For example; ‘xi is in the Library, studying for their test’?” She mangled the word, loosing the nuances the Hoxian had, flattening it slightly into a more Estuan pronunciation.

“Or, is it when I refer to you? Again, if we use the example; ‘Ez’xi, are you going to go to the Library today to study for your test?’ Or is it; ‘Cxil, do you wish to study with me?’[/i]” Now she was getting lost in the words, squinting a little as she tried out the unfamiliar language and tested her own thinking. A finger strayed to her lip in thought.

“He, or Him, that is an Anaxi desire. I want what you want to be known as Ezre. Your opinion, and your mind, they matter to me more than the Anaxi sensibilities.” The other student shifted, fussing with shirts and settling back, Lilanee offering her assistance with a smile and needful hands.

The slight turn of tone in Ezre’s voice caught the red head by mild surprise, and she pursed her lips in a small pout.

“Well, to be fair, they supposed to be fauna. There would most definitely be evidence. Biological evidence. Tracks, scat, bones, bod—ies.” Her speech faltered for a brief moment as the warmth of a tawny hand slipped between proper green fabric to rest improperly on the lightly tanned skin of her thigh. Tucking her leg closer around the Hoxian’s own, pleasantly tangled in an intimate embrace of sorts, Lilanee lay her head on the hollow of their shoulder and slowly traced the line that dipped over pectoral and abdominal muscles, fighting the snort of disbelief that wanted to explode at the comments about Gior.

“Gior has a serious tunnel complex beneath its mountain ranges. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind something probably found an entrance somewhere and made a home, but I am hardly of the belief it’s hatchers. Most likely some sort of predatory mammal. A banderwolf pack maybe. In the dark, down in those depths, the mind plays strange tricks. It’s more likely, whatever they are seeing down there, I would say most assuredly it’s not what it seems.” Her conviction was strong, even after what Ezre had exposed her to, there was so much of her mother in her that she didn’t even realize. Hessean common sense dictated that it couldn’t be sensed by the six senses, then it didn’t exist. Simple as that.

Once again, their personal differences seemed to threaten a wall that neither could quite scale. The freckled student held her frown until Ezre kissed her again, a reassuring motion that soothed any concerns she had. They were mature enough for these discussions, and they both knew how to navigate the juxtapositions of their beliefs.

At least that’s how it appeared.

Wrapping her arms around his torso, humming contentedly, Lilanee asked about the scrying without thought to how she was asking, her mind flowing unfiltered to her mouth. Her periwinkle gaze shifted to the rose carved scrystone they pulled from their pocket, and the Hessean hugged them tighter at the sudden grip around her person. Did the experience scare the Hoxian? Perhaps it was too much to ask it again. She couldn’t help the small awkward grimace at the reminder of her theatrical entrance into their very much occupied dorm. Tilting her gaze to their face, the teenager was taken aback by the clench in Ezre’s jaw and the…anger there?

Were they angry?

The entire dynamic of their space changed, and Lilanee felt a surge of panic in her throat. What had she said?

“Cold like a…what? No Ezre I meant—” The student sat up slightly, her concern etched on her face and creeping into the color-shift of her field. She hadn’t meant it the way she’d said it, her mouth just made her thoughts so fast. It wasn’t supposed to be a dig, or a derogatory comment, and yet here they were.

And this is what she’d been trying to tell them for seasons now. This was the reason no one wanted to befriend her, why no one stuck it out for very long. Because Lilanee Kuleda had a big clocking mouth and didn’t know when to shut it.

Ezre wouldn’t look at her, and the panic turned into dread as the colors in their field shifted entirely. The emotions of the day cloyed her throat and she wanted to say something, but feared she would simply burst into tears. Why couldn’t she just leave well alone?

Finally, the Hoxian turned back, dark gaze filled with too many things left unsaid. Too many things felt keenly under the surface. She nodded quickly, wanting desperately to go back a few moments on the clock as the other student closed their eyes to control the feelings welling inside.

“I know, I know that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say something wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.” Unbecoming for anyone, Lilanee blurted her apologies over the crack in her voice and the tears that filled her vision. She hadn’t meant to upset Ezre, and never at all wanted to hurt him. But she did, and she had, and now she’d ruined the brief moment of loveliness they’d had before having to land in Vienda and face her clocking mother.

“Of course he is. Of course. I meant…it’s cold. Reaching inside someones mind, is it cold? Is it warm. Are there colors? Are there sounds? Is it dark? Do you see what they see? Do you see, nothing? I didn’t mean he’s not a person, not alive. He’s inside a body that was once not alive, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t. I just wondered what ‘raen’ was like, inside. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean anything by it. Ezre don’t be upset, please don’t be upset with me.” The emotional girl tripped over her words, reaching a hand to place it on their cheek, searching the ninth form’s face with sincerity and a touch of panic. Things were good, things were so good, and she didn’t want to clock them up. It felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Was this how loving people was supposed to feel?

“I love you, and everything you are. Your umah is no doubt a wonderful person, and I don’t mean to be so stupid, or so Anaxi, or so Hessean. Tom is a good person too, he is! I don’t know him well but he has a soul, and he’s probably really kind or something, and I just don’t know him and the idea of raen frightens me, but Tom doesn’t. Your umah doesn’t. I’ll be better at this, I’ll try harder. I’m sorry.” By Ophurs Golden Glow now she was just making an absolute fool of herself. It was too late, she was tired and high strung and she’d made Ezre upset. Gods and now she would go blotchy and since when did blotchy matter?! Since when had she become such a mess?

“Tocks, sorry.” The red head muttered, pressing her sleeve to her eyes to stop them from welling over, keeping her wrist there till she could gather some semblance of maturity.

[Ezre Vks]

In the Clouds

Late Evening on the 14th of Vortas, 2719

Ezre felt regret over not having this discussion about proper forms of address and personal pronouns earlier in their friendship, Lilanee's persistence in finding some comfortable frame of reference for the Hexxos something he felt both stirred and chagrined by—why had he hidden? Why had he simply complied? Had studying in Anaxas for only a few years really shifted his Kzecka-born, temple-raised views so much?

What had he been so afraid of in the sharing of himself with Lilanee, anyway?

"These things matter, zjai, but I simply did not want to complicate what we have together. Well, any more than I feel I already do." His words were shy again, softly spoken, revealing that Ezre had perhaps chosen not to go in depth into the subject before out of some sense of honoring her comfort levels with it all, not to purposefully keep her ignorant. She tried the syllables and he hummed, watching her lips with only a hint of distraction until he carefully corrected her Deftung pronunciation, over-emphasizing the already drawn-out x, wanting her to feel the weight of its lingering sound against the back of her throat,

"Xî is used instead of he or she as a pronoun. I suppose it is synonymous with they or them, though Estuan grammatical structures are more complex than Deftung, in my opinion. It can be used alone or as an honorific at the end of my name, first or last. Cxîl is what I am; that is the noun for the non-gender existence that is neither male nor female, but keep in mind—it specifically applies to Hexxos. There are no Hoxian who are cxîl and follow the tenants of the Mhoren Basheva, for example. It does not always have positive context in Hox—this word, cxîl—but neither does being a Carrier of the Dead, which is what the Deftung phrase Hexxos roughly translates to. I am not ashamed of either word."

The Hessean moved from grammar to zoology and Ezre did his best to take her scientific attempts to explain away mythological beasts who appeared sapient and connected to the mona in stride, but in this moment of emotional candor, it was difficult to hide how another intellectual dismissal made him feel on the inside. It felt better to channel his frustration, to tease over the curve of her thigh, hidden from view, and hear how such a motion changed the timbre of her voice. His frown faltered, softening the hard edges of his expression, and his dark eyes drifted from her face to watch the way her featherlight touch traced over the dark lines of his chest.

The Hoxian couldn't help his expression of exasperated disbelief at how easily Lilanee explained away the possibility of hatchers, "You have not seen enough, vre'ia, to even entertain the notion of what could be?" Ezre chided her, but it was gentle, exploring, not cruel or mocking, and he wanted to keep his humor. He wanted to keep the mood, really, glancing down at the buttons she'd loosened free at the collar of her dress and feeling the warmth of their mingled fields, but her curious questions about what should have been an exciting moment in Clairvoyance picked at the still-congealing scab from the very conversation.

He might have misinterpreted just a little, too close to it all as he was. She might have misspoken, too interested to pause long enough to consider her words and actually find the right phrases in their shared excitement. Too many feelings all tangled together and this was exactly what rhakor was for! He set it aside for her—too often. There was no distance when one opened their heart to another, and shared feelings meant shared hurts. It was too easy to be hurt as well as hurt in kind when there were no safe boundaries, yet there were so many beautiful things beyond the fence of his outermost self and he didn't want to live without them now that he knew of their existence.

Everything they'd shared thus far was strangely worth the discomfort.

He watched the ripples of his reaction become tears on Lilanee's face and his frown deepened, aware that his quick offense had caught her sensitive self off-guard. Some part of himself instinctually longed to slip from beneath her and crawl away, perhaps even leave the room, just to give them both some semblance of space to compose themselves. She apologized too many times and he didn't really want to apologize at all, not right away, lips pressed together into a thin line that was neither displeasure nor anger. He was silent, probably too silent, as her own thoughts washed over him out loud, threatening to drown him.

She kept going, filling the space that had quickly welled between them, thick and dark like blood welling from a pinprick, with a verbal representation of all the things that must have writhed within her heart at his anger over her now obviously innocent choice of words when it came to what a raen could have felt like inside the mysterious invisibility of a Clairvoyant connection.

"Stop."

The dark-haired Guide whispered, leaning into her hand as it came to rest against the flushed heat of his cheek. She didn't, gasping for breath and pouring more of herself into the cavity of his inked chest that surely was too small to hold it all, "Lilanee, please. I, too, am sorry."

He found the words hollow even though he meant them, the single Estuan phrase too short to hold the full length of his meaning but unable to give to her the mouthful of consonants in Deftung that would have been a more sufficient apology. He reached up and placed his hand over hers, tattooed fingers curling to hold it there against his face. He tilted his head, pressing lips against her palm, repeating himself in quiet tones, "Stop and listen. You did not mean it, I understand. I just—being inside someone else's thoughts, someone who is not a well-practiced Clairvoyant, someone who lacks self-control, means that so much is shared, intentional or not. I do not have the same rhakor in my mind as I do in person, that much is obvious to me now. Colors. Sounds. Scents. Emotions. Sensations. Even in the careful space of a vestibule is not enough to completely bar one's most inner self from view if those in conversation with each other are not competent. I still have much to learn, I suppose."

The Hoxian sighed, fingers dragging from their place under her clothing with reluctance to reach up and wipe her freckled cheeks, catching tears her sleeve did not on the inked lines encircling his digits, "You did not upset me, but your words found some part of myself which has already been hurting. I am not angry with you. I am not angry with Tom Cooke, either. Maybe I should be angry with myself, for you are both justified—"

He frowned then and the expression creased itself deeply into his delicate features, "—you are right to be afraid, vre'ia, and it is not my place to dissuade you. Tom thinks himself a murderous ghost, a monster, and while I understand what a raen must do to continue to exist, I have seen them all through a very personal lens. Raised along side death, the dead, and the undying, I suppose I do not see what everyone else sees, but that does not mean I see any more clearly, either. Maybe that is one reason I was so encouraged to leave Kzecka, to leave Frecksat: perspective. It hurts, though."

Ezre paused, but it was not for emphasis. His breath hitched with a tightness that had begun to crawl its way between his ribs and grip his lungs.

"You do not have anything to be sorry about." The dark-haired Guide murmured, but he didn't smile. He didn't think it appropriate to share more of who the not-Incumbent had been or who he was, much preferring for Lilanee to make her own decisions about the raen depending on what the man chose to share of himself. It was not fair to build expectations, and this was not the moment to begin an in-depth explanation of raen existence.

He could not entirely wipe from his mind just how it felt to be inside of Tom's thoughts, just how it felt to reach beneath the surface of the once-human's very being, and all that had gone unsaid between them came washing back into his thoughts like another wave of nausea. His arms moved slowly, gently, and he reached to invite the Hessean back toward himself again, closer than before so he could hide his face in the warm, red curls of her hair and breathe the shape of the bruise her words had pressed against into the gentle curve of her neck,

"If raen are nothing more than terrifying abominations, what am I? What does that make me—the child of such a creature? What does that make my mother who claims to love me? Or you who professes such bountiful, beautiful sentiment while recoiling in horror from the truth?"