[Boghadar] Misty Mornings and Dark Hearts
Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2022 11:26 am
TIMESTAMP: 30th Glacial Dusk, 4621
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NOTES: -
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It was the dawn of the final day of Frost. Here in Boghadar, brisk, cool winds blew through the cliffs, over the rivers and rustled through the trees. The city was mostly still asleep and, as a result, had a blanket of solemn silence over it in these early hours– the only sounds to be heard were the gusts of wind, rushing rivers and crashing waterfalls. A gray sky adorned with dreary clouds was host to the rising sun as it struggled to provide some semblance of color to the early morning. Having rained the night before, everything was still soaked in a thin layer of cold moisture or icy frost.
Dim rays of light started to shine into the Valran’s chambers as it rose ever higher in the sky. Soft, jade eyes open when one such ray of light passes over her face, pulling her from the reveries of her rest. Unbothered, it was typical for her to rise along with the sun. Propping herself up on her palms, she stares out the window at the dreary sky and thinks about what, if any, specific tasks she has for the day. There really wasn’t. Lucia received her duties directly from Degare himself and while thinking about this, it occurred to her that she hadn’t seen, much less spoken to the man in about three days. This wasn’t entirely abnormal for him to do, but usually if there was no cause for concern he alerts her when he specifically wants time to himself to dedicate to something. In this scenario, such notice was not given which meant that he was either brooding about something or in an otherwise poor mood. In states like that, the Veir would often neglect to eat and she didn’t want to find him withering away; he was already quite thin without further neglecting his health.
When he did this, it would be either up to her or another Valran, Drazik, to go check up on him but Drazik had been occupied with a specific series of tasks he’d been given of late…thus leaving this duty to her– not that she minded. Lucia really did care about her Veir. With a sigh and shake to her head, she rises from her bed, throwing her lean but strong frame over the side of the bed and landing gracefully on the floor. Soft steps guide her through her chambers as she readies herself for the day.
Knowing Degare was not an early riser, the woman takes the time to feed herself and wander the grounds to gauge the activity of the house and see if she could poke around for any fun tidbits of information from other members of the house. It was typical of her to wait until one or two hours before noon when it came to bothering him, especially if his mood was low.
As the Sil’Norai strode through the estate’s lovingly cared for gardens, she took note of the green stems and buds that had begun to grow already, cracking through the ground with renewed vigor for the year. The sight made her smile…the flowers helped with everyone’s mood, including and especially her Veir’s. A bluster of cold wind whipped her soft, silvery hair into her face as it blew through the grounds, rustling the trees with notable force and pulling her from her thoughts. Staring up towards the horizon, the woman sighs and then turns to resume her short trek to the Ferrier’s tower.
When dainty fingers gloved in black satin twist the knob of the tower’s door, it catches. Locked. Fairly predictable, but she’d kind of hoped she wouldn’t have to dig through her pockets to find the key. Palming the appropriate key, she clicks it into the lock, opens the door and steps through the threshold, relocking it once she shuts it behind her. Pocketing the key again, her clear gaze drifts upwards to the cloudy glass of the floor above. While one cannot see with crystal clarity up onto the higher floors, it would be possible to tell if Degare was on either of them simply by craning one’s neck upwards. He was not.
Steps light and quiet, she ascends the stairs and rises up the presently empty first few floors. With deft movements and light force, she opens the hatch to the top floor containing the Veir’s bedchambers. As she rose up the stairs the rest of the way, her eyes met with the Ferrier’s back. He was sitting directly across from her at his desk in front of the windows, curtains drawn, though from this position she couldn’t exactly tell what he was doing, if anything at all. He appeared to be still. Silent steps carried her the rest of the way up and she closed the hatch without making a single sound.
With a quick internal debate about whether or not she should close the distance before alerting him to her presence or say something first, she elects for the former and walks with smooth strides ending up about a foot behind him before she stops. Peering over the man’s shoulder, Lucia sees that the lid is off of the wood framed glass box in which he stored the little thing Arkash had made for him and he was mindlessly letting it crawl back and forth between his hands. Standing over him in silence like this for a few more moments he lets it wander off his palm and crawl around on the stone surface of his desk. “Lucia, why have you come…?” His inquiry is delivered in a low tone, though his voice is fairly smooth.
Placing her arms across her chest, she moves to his side and looks down at the little beast, now standing beside her Veir. It ceases its crawling and pukes a small amount of blood on the sealed stone– a small quirk she knew was normal. “Why do you think? I’ve run out of things to do and you’ve been holed up in here for three days without a word.” Her tone isn’t harsh, but her voice is firm and laced with interwoven concern and care. “I know you like your solitude but I’m well aware of how you act when you’re upset…and you do an overall poor job at hiding it.” He really does. If he had any intention of masquerading around as if he were fine, he’d have contacted his Valran with some excuse for his hermitude.
The two Sil’Norai watched as the little thing crawled around some more, then Lucia’s gaze drifted up to look out the window, at the city below. Degare’s eyes stayed transfixed on the tiny creature, running two fingers over its smooth, fleshy back as if petting it. He doesn’t speak. Again, odd behavior for him. The woman’s grip on her own arm tightens a bit– she’s internally conflicted. She knows what’s wrong but she doesn’t actually know how she wants to approach the subject.
Usually for Lucia, it wasn’t too entirely difficult for her to comfort him or draw him out of his silence. The problem here was that she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to encourage him to give up or not. About a fortnight ago, the two had discussed the little thing’s creator, Arkash. She ended up caving to fostering a hope within her Veir that the younger man would find his way back to them as he’d promised…but the days ticked on. Then a week passed and now it has been two. If she recalled correctly, it'd have been about a month by now.
With a sigh, she opens her mouth, “Do you want me to try and find him? We know the house that had him. It’s more subtle if I’m the one being nosy, you know. I was hoping that through gossip I’d hear something about that family or even just gossip from Valran about those that worked there, but no…they’re really rather silent. I can pry…if you’d like?” Her voice is sweet, soft, a timbre like silver toned silk. She asks this now because in the weeks prior, neither party wanted to invite rumors by poking around and asking pointed questions about this particular subject, but she could tell that it was beginning to weigh ever heavier on his mind as more time passed. Degare’s amber eyes didn’t move from the little creature as he kept it safe from falling off the sides of the stone altar converted to a desk. “You’ve really heard…nothing? I…yes. Please ask around…” His voice is quieter this time, not much more than a murmur, really– pausing as if he’s trying to keep it from breaking.
Tilting her head to rest eyes on the Ferriers features, she can see the strain pulling at his jaw and the sadness in his eyes. He also looks incredibly tired as if he’s barely slept. “There’s a few people I’ve had in mind that I can poke…I just didn’t want to interfere in their lives without your permission. I will…but have you slept at all? When did you wake up…?” Her questions are asked with notable worry. Holding the little beast in his hands again, the Veir speaks, “Hmm…no. I couldn’t. I’ve been distracting myself from my thoughts for the entirety of the night and into this morning.” With a bit of a frustrated expression, Lucia replies, “Why not use Sopor to help yourself rest…? I know you’ve a tendency to do that,” she sounds confused– generally he never had issues falling asleep for specifically this reason.
“I don’t want to,” he responds simply. Her head shakes a little as brows furrow and then after thinking about it for a second, “Look…now that you’ve relented and given me your permission, I’ll find him…or at the very least I’ll learn his fate. Please just trust me, alright? Get some rest. The first weeks of Glade are always busy for you.” As she finishes her last sentence, she gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and grants him a soft, friendly smile.
Though the man had a tendency to be stubborn, sleep was admittedly tempting. He places his tiny companion back into its enclosure and slowly stands. Lucia steps back, walking behind him by a foot or two until he all but collapses into his bed and she continues moving, stopping not far from the hatch that opened to the stairs. “Promise me you’ll sleep?” The question is asked as she lifts the hatch, but she doesn’t move until he responds. “...Yes,” his voice is muffled, tired, defeated…but she does trust him. He’s not usually one to lie.
When the hatch clicks shut and she leaves, he does opt to Bane himself with Sopor to make sure he stays asleep until somebody actually requires his attention.
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It was the dawn of the final day of Frost. Here in Boghadar, brisk, cool winds blew through the cliffs, over the rivers and rustled through the trees. The city was mostly still asleep and, as a result, had a blanket of solemn silence over it in these early hours– the only sounds to be heard were the gusts of wind, rushing rivers and crashing waterfalls. A gray sky adorned with dreary clouds was host to the rising sun as it struggled to provide some semblance of color to the early morning. Having rained the night before, everything was still soaked in a thin layer of cold moisture or icy frost.
Dim rays of light started to shine into the Valran’s chambers as it rose ever higher in the sky. Soft, jade eyes open when one such ray of light passes over her face, pulling her from the reveries of her rest. Unbothered, it was typical for her to rise along with the sun. Propping herself up on her palms, she stares out the window at the dreary sky and thinks about what, if any, specific tasks she has for the day. There really wasn’t. Lucia received her duties directly from Degare himself and while thinking about this, it occurred to her that she hadn’t seen, much less spoken to the man in about three days. This wasn’t entirely abnormal for him to do, but usually if there was no cause for concern he alerts her when he specifically wants time to himself to dedicate to something. In this scenario, such notice was not given which meant that he was either brooding about something or in an otherwise poor mood. In states like that, the Veir would often neglect to eat and she didn’t want to find him withering away; he was already quite thin without further neglecting his health.
When he did this, it would be either up to her or another Valran, Drazik, to go check up on him but Drazik had been occupied with a specific series of tasks he’d been given of late…thus leaving this duty to her– not that she minded. Lucia really did care about her Veir. With a sigh and shake to her head, she rises from her bed, throwing her lean but strong frame over the side of the bed and landing gracefully on the floor. Soft steps guide her through her chambers as she readies herself for the day.
Knowing Degare was not an early riser, the woman takes the time to feed herself and wander the grounds to gauge the activity of the house and see if she could poke around for any fun tidbits of information from other members of the house. It was typical of her to wait until one or two hours before noon when it came to bothering him, especially if his mood was low.
As the Sil’Norai strode through the estate’s lovingly cared for gardens, she took note of the green stems and buds that had begun to grow already, cracking through the ground with renewed vigor for the year. The sight made her smile…the flowers helped with everyone’s mood, including and especially her Veir’s. A bluster of cold wind whipped her soft, silvery hair into her face as it blew through the grounds, rustling the trees with notable force and pulling her from her thoughts. Staring up towards the horizon, the woman sighs and then turns to resume her short trek to the Ferrier’s tower.
When dainty fingers gloved in black satin twist the knob of the tower’s door, it catches. Locked. Fairly predictable, but she’d kind of hoped she wouldn’t have to dig through her pockets to find the key. Palming the appropriate key, she clicks it into the lock, opens the door and steps through the threshold, relocking it once she shuts it behind her. Pocketing the key again, her clear gaze drifts upwards to the cloudy glass of the floor above. While one cannot see with crystal clarity up onto the higher floors, it would be possible to tell if Degare was on either of them simply by craning one’s neck upwards. He was not.
Steps light and quiet, she ascends the stairs and rises up the presently empty first few floors. With deft movements and light force, she opens the hatch to the top floor containing the Veir’s bedchambers. As she rose up the stairs the rest of the way, her eyes met with the Ferrier’s back. He was sitting directly across from her at his desk in front of the windows, curtains drawn, though from this position she couldn’t exactly tell what he was doing, if anything at all. He appeared to be still. Silent steps carried her the rest of the way up and she closed the hatch without making a single sound.
With a quick internal debate about whether or not she should close the distance before alerting him to her presence or say something first, she elects for the former and walks with smooth strides ending up about a foot behind him before she stops. Peering over the man’s shoulder, Lucia sees that the lid is off of the wood framed glass box in which he stored the little thing Arkash had made for him and he was mindlessly letting it crawl back and forth between his hands. Standing over him in silence like this for a few more moments he lets it wander off his palm and crawl around on the stone surface of his desk. “Lucia, why have you come…?” His inquiry is delivered in a low tone, though his voice is fairly smooth.
Placing her arms across her chest, she moves to his side and looks down at the little beast, now standing beside her Veir. It ceases its crawling and pukes a small amount of blood on the sealed stone– a small quirk she knew was normal. “Why do you think? I’ve run out of things to do and you’ve been holed up in here for three days without a word.” Her tone isn’t harsh, but her voice is firm and laced with interwoven concern and care. “I know you like your solitude but I’m well aware of how you act when you’re upset…and you do an overall poor job at hiding it.” He really does. If he had any intention of masquerading around as if he were fine, he’d have contacted his Valran with some excuse for his hermitude.
The two Sil’Norai watched as the little thing crawled around some more, then Lucia’s gaze drifted up to look out the window, at the city below. Degare’s eyes stayed transfixed on the tiny creature, running two fingers over its smooth, fleshy back as if petting it. He doesn’t speak. Again, odd behavior for him. The woman’s grip on her own arm tightens a bit– she’s internally conflicted. She knows what’s wrong but she doesn’t actually know how she wants to approach the subject.
Usually for Lucia, it wasn’t too entirely difficult for her to comfort him or draw him out of his silence. The problem here was that she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to encourage him to give up or not. About a fortnight ago, the two had discussed the little thing’s creator, Arkash. She ended up caving to fostering a hope within her Veir that the younger man would find his way back to them as he’d promised…but the days ticked on. Then a week passed and now it has been two. If she recalled correctly, it'd have been about a month by now.
With a sigh, she opens her mouth, “Do you want me to try and find him? We know the house that had him. It’s more subtle if I’m the one being nosy, you know. I was hoping that through gossip I’d hear something about that family or even just gossip from Valran about those that worked there, but no…they’re really rather silent. I can pry…if you’d like?” Her voice is sweet, soft, a timbre like silver toned silk. She asks this now because in the weeks prior, neither party wanted to invite rumors by poking around and asking pointed questions about this particular subject, but she could tell that it was beginning to weigh ever heavier on his mind as more time passed. Degare’s amber eyes didn’t move from the little creature as he kept it safe from falling off the sides of the stone altar converted to a desk. “You’ve really heard…nothing? I…yes. Please ask around…” His voice is quieter this time, not much more than a murmur, really– pausing as if he’s trying to keep it from breaking.
Tilting her head to rest eyes on the Ferriers features, she can see the strain pulling at his jaw and the sadness in his eyes. He also looks incredibly tired as if he’s barely slept. “There’s a few people I’ve had in mind that I can poke…I just didn’t want to interfere in their lives without your permission. I will…but have you slept at all? When did you wake up…?” Her questions are asked with notable worry. Holding the little beast in his hands again, the Veir speaks, “Hmm…no. I couldn’t. I’ve been distracting myself from my thoughts for the entirety of the night and into this morning.” With a bit of a frustrated expression, Lucia replies, “Why not use Sopor to help yourself rest…? I know you’ve a tendency to do that,” she sounds confused– generally he never had issues falling asleep for specifically this reason.
“I don’t want to,” he responds simply. Her head shakes a little as brows furrow and then after thinking about it for a second, “Look…now that you’ve relented and given me your permission, I’ll find him…or at the very least I’ll learn his fate. Please just trust me, alright? Get some rest. The first weeks of Glade are always busy for you.” As she finishes her last sentence, she gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and grants him a soft, friendly smile.
Though the man had a tendency to be stubborn, sleep was admittedly tempting. He places his tiny companion back into its enclosure and slowly stands. Lucia steps back, walking behind him by a foot or two until he all but collapses into his bed and she continues moving, stopping not far from the hatch that opened to the stairs. “Promise me you’ll sleep?” The question is asked as she lifts the hatch, but she doesn’t move until he responds. “...Yes,” his voice is muffled, tired, defeated…but she does trust him. He’s not usually one to lie.
When the hatch clicks shut and she leaves, he does opt to Bane himself with Sopor to make sure he stays asleep until somebody actually requires his attention.
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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"