Spirits of the Earth

---

Sunset washed over Uthlyn like faded paint. The city was coated in varying shades of red and gold, light catching in closed windows and reflecting splinters of light back through the streets and into the sky. Clouds rolled around the edges of the picturesque sky, hemming the vibrant light of the drowsing sun in pink and orange puffs of light cotton.

Kanimir trailed a long shadow at his feet as he strode into the sun, eyes squinted in the striking rays of light falling directly into his face. The road upon which he walked was set directly west, with rows of high caste manor houses and mansions rising up on each side of him and a long path straight ahead, straight into the sun. Kanimir's hood hung loose over his head, pushed upwards by the curve of his horns, but fell just a few inches short of throwing shadows into his eyes. It was...irritating.

The Chaosbringer had been back within Connlaothian territory for less than a week, and already his services had been called for. A smile touched his lips, eyes ducking back to the hard packed cobbles beneath his feet as he walked, there was no shortage of work for a man like him, not in these fickle walls. Dukes and Duchesses, Lords and Ladies, all Nobles seemed to be cut from a very similar clothe, all only too eager to take any chance to undercut one another, outbid each other and, more often than not, have each other killed. Kanimir had no qualms being the middle man, so long as he was paid for his work, and actually found the whole thing entirely entertaining. They all thought themselves so high and mighty, so above the common man, yet here they all sat, in their pristine manors and mansions, with servant at their beck and call, squabbling like dogs over a bone. All of them had blood on their hands just as much as he did, theirs was just easier to hide.

A large, grandiose mansion rose on his right, courtyard lit by a long line of torches several feet taller than Nim, even on his tip-toes. He regarded it blandly for a moment, turned away from the sun, pales eyes raking over the entirety of the building. Roughly four stories high, he'd guess, with a multitude of high windows leading onto balconies for every floor but the ground. Plenty easy enough to get in and out of, especially with a little help from the power in his veins, if the situation went south.

He smiled, lifting the thin scarf hanging loose around his neck to cover the lower portion of his face, and moved through the courtyard, in plain sight between the towering torches. The house rose up to meet him, the roof disappearing somewhere behind the second story balcony as he reached the steps to the intricately carved wooden doors and lifted a hand to rest over the smooth, polished wood. Oh, how easy it would be to simply blow it inwards. A snap of his fingers, that would be all it took. A tingle raced through his fingertips, taunting, tempting, but he shook his head with a sigh, lifting the hand back to tug at the edge of his hood as he kicked the door in preference of knocking.

Thud thud thud

'Excuse me, Lord Harvael, your requested assassin has arrived.'

Keithia didn't pretend to understand humans. They were filthy, ugly, violent creatures and very few had proven otherwise. Her life since arriving in Connlaoth had been a series of exchanges between slavers, owners, and cages. Caught because she was exotic and bought for the same reason. Small, soft, and easily manipulated into doing what she was told, Keithia was the ideal.

It had only taken her horns being cut off once for her to be cowed into submission.

The current owner had her on display like she was some trophy. A creature he might've caught in the wilds. A slender silver chain affixed her to a eloquent base. She could break it, of course. Silver was a malleable and soft metal, but she didn't dare. Instead, she remained standing and attentive to whomever would be brought in. Dressed in a garish veil that scratched her soft skin but matched her long black hair and dark, grey eyes.

Living art, he called her.

She felt a prop. Invisible. Other, free roaming servants didn't even bat an eye at her. Was this preferable to the cages? To the hands everywhere and being inspected? She didn't know, really. If anything, it just made her feel even more alone than she had before. All she could hope for was that this man, like some of the others, would eventually tire of her and she would be passed along. Was it maddening to want a different owner?

Probably. Especially since being still and ignored was probably preferable to some of the other things that she could be bought and used for. Keithia hated having time alone with her thoughts, though, and the memory of her glen and all she knew being destroyed. There was no solace from that save the present, no escape from that except having to deal with the here and now. Standing as she was, small and exposed, she was left with naught but her thoughts and memories for company.

@HeartOfFlame

A harried looking servant opened the door - eventually -, and well harried she should be; Kanimir had gone back to considering blowing the structure up in the time it had taken for her to arrive. She looked him up and down, taking him in, and he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. Harried turned wary, as she leaned through the door and looked out into the courtyard, before beckoning him inwards hurriedly.

Evidently, her master wasn't very good at keeping a secret. He let that thought amuse him as he wandered through the door, taking his time just for the hell of it, and glanced around the lobby he stepped into. Too big, obnoxiously decorated with various mementos and trophies, hunting prizes and suits of armour. It reminded him of the sword and armour his father used to keep in their hut in La'Marri, a thought which made him snort softly.

"Please, follow me." The servant said, voice hushed and already halfway up the stairwell to the second floor. It was as wide as Kanimir was tall, and he followed her steps lazily, taking his time and cataloguing his surroundings as they moved through a large hallway and into an atrium of sorts. This was decorated even more garishly than the lobby, every available surface hanging an exotic treasure of some sort, ancient vases and pots propped up on stands and shelves.

"Please wait here, I will fetch Lord Harvael presently."

Barely smothering a yawn, he stepped into the room proper and his guide pulled the door shut behind him, effectively sealing the room. He took a moment to examine the room properly, noting the doors onto the balcony were thrown wide, and his eyes fell upon her then.

She was small, clearly nonhuman by the intricate horns - antlers, even - curving from beneath her hair. She looked frail, scared, lonely. He chewed his lip, eyes fixed on the silver chain keeping her tied to the intricate base of a decorative pillar. She was like the other treasures in the room, on display, a pretty thing to taunt the eyes. His fingers itched.

Keithia could stand all day. It wasn't the physicality of what she did that bothered her. Inhuman, such a thing didn't tire her. Her eyes had already memorized the room though and she didn't find the garish display of human trinkets and art appealing. It was claustrophobic, no matter it might be considered a large room, and smelt of sweat and the body odor of humans. Reeked.

Keithia had always hoped she would get used to it, but the acrid smell lingered in places like this. Trapped in rooms that were frequented by guests and the like. Which was why she was here. To be on display for those made to wait while Lord Harvael dawdled as long as he felt the current guest should wait. Depending on how important determined the length of the weight.

She heard them before she saw them. The sound of footsteps beyond the door. Her grey eyes found something on the opposite wall to stare at so she wasn't looking at the servant who opened the door or the one who entered. She didn't care. She didn't want to be gawked at and, if she were still enough, maybe they wouldn't notice that she was alive at all. Just a brilliantly decorated sculpture. There was so much to see in the room that the lazy eye could easily pass over her.

Though her heart beat kicked up in anxiousness, her breathing remained soft and barely noticeable. Trying very hard not to draw attention to herself.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir contained himself - for now - and clenched his hands into fists to dispel the tingling sensation, blocking out the magic ever ready at his beck and call. Instead, he lifted a hand to knock back his head, running a hand over his hair to flatten it back between his horns. The creature before him, he suspected a nymph, looked like she was trying to become one with the furniture, either out of simple fear or anticipation of what would come were she seen. Either option was as bad as the other.

He drew a breath through his nose, the air muffled slightly by the mask over his lower face, and let it out in a quiet hum, turning his eyes away from her. The room was full of trinkets, glittering treasures and polished prizes no matter which way he turned. He couldn't decide if Harvael was a collector or a hoarder. A quick glance at the nymph reaffirmed the second as probably correct.

Footsteps met his ears and he turned away from the window and the shackled creature, both, placing his back to the balcony and what sunlight there was left in the sky in his client's eyes. He tugged his scarf a little higher, smiled, and waited.

Lord Harvael was a predictably large man, in both girth and height, and Kanimir could feel every step as he entered the room and shut the door in his wake, glancing nervously at the open windows, as though he feared being overhead. Why a man would fear eavesdroppers one a conversation such as the one they were about to have, the Chaosbringer could not possibly imagine. His smile widened a fraction.

"Harvael." He greeted flatly, voice as muffled as the air he was breathing, all titles and dignities left outside the door through which the man had entered. He lifted a hand, sparks dancing between his fingers as he curled them in his palm slowly, lazily. "Bold of you to bring me to your home."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia was rather relieved when she seemed to be unnoticed. Her sigh of relief was quiet and nigh unnoticeable. Whoever the stranger, the guest, the visitor was, the last thing she wanted was to get in trouble because they bothered her. It'd somehow be her fault.

Only once the new comer crossed the room and wasn't in a position to look at her did she look at him. The nymph had no senses to tell he wasn't human but the horns were a give away. She'd come to find that her own antlers were exotic and one of the reasons humans like to buy her. Not that she understood that. The rest of it was just a mystery to her.

People, largely, were a mystery to her.

When the heavy footfalls of Harvael signaled his arrival, Keithia noticeably wilted. She scooted back on the pedestal, wanting to be as far from him as she could, and cast her face to the side. Hiding behind a curtain of stark, black hair that reached her knees. Well brushed and shining, she was still pretty. Still a sight to behind, but this was the only way she could really hide from him.

Hopefully, he would be so busy talking to his guest that he wouldn't notice she was not looking at him.

@HeartOfFlame

Harvael shifted, uncomfortable, and Kanimir felt more than saw the way his eyes were drawn to the flickering flames of Riven in his palm. He smothered a grin, eyes holding the contained, static light of his amusement as he lifted them to meet the bigger man's gaze. He clenched his hand, sparks popping as he snuffed them out, and then extended the hand, palm upwards. Harvael hesitated, fingers curling by his side, and Nim tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowed.

"I assume you know how this works. You did know how to contact me, after all." He kept his voice low, muffled, an octave or two deeper than his usual voice. It added to the mystery, to the reputation. He could have laughed at the thought of his reputation, all the rumours and tales people liked to spin into his being. Sometimes he liked to find those who whispered of him and simply listen to their conversations for the entertainment factor. The creativity of humans was often amusing.

After a moment's more thought, Harvael produced a scrap of parchment from his fancy, embroidered jacket, dropping it in Kanimir's palm like he thought it might burn him, doing his utmost best not to touch the Chaosbringer's skin. Nim closed his fingers around it, listening to the expensive paper scrunch, and pulled it back to his chest to unfold it. His eyebrow lifted at the name he saw, printed in elegant, if slightly shaken, hand.

He let the silence sit for a minute, watched Harvael squirm. "Doable. Now," He crumpled the paper once more, watching it burst into flames and then simply disappear with a poorly hidden grin, "my payment."

Harvael looked relieved to have moved straight along from the name of his target, his posture relaxing slightly and one hand lifting to encompass the grossly decorated room. "Name your price."

Nim smiled, lifting his own hand to extend his index finger towards the Nymph, doing a valiant job of trying to avoid attention, on the opposite wall. "Her."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia certainly understood what was going on. A deal, of some manner. Whomever Harvael was dealing with, though, made the man uneasy. He didn't notice that she had turned her attention to the floor. He was far too busy... quivering? Certainly afraid.

It was an emotion she'd felt for the first time when the slavers came, and only around humans since. Monsters, the lot of them, and she felt not an ounce of compassion or sympathy for her owner. Even if she didn't understand what there was to be afraid of. Neither did she particularly delight in him being afraid either. Rather, she felt nothing.

Just observed through the curtain of her hair as the odd deal was made and Harvael seemed relieved to be rid of some paper.

Her only reaction came when the payment was made, which was certainly understandable. The price named was her. Still, quiet, trying desperately not to be noticed Keithia. When she was pointed at, she did look up.

If attention was going to be on her, then there was little point in hiding. Her dark grey eyes move from Harvael to the other man. She didn't think her current owner would accept, but she also didn't understand what was really going on here either. Her features remained impassive despite the quick beating of her heart. She hadn't wanted to be brought into any of this, at all.

The delicate silver chain sparkled as she moved, shifting her position so she was fully facing both of them. It wasn't like she had a say, but she was certainly curious what would make a stranger randomly decide that she was worth... whatever was going on.

@HeartOfFlame

Harvael blinked, taken off guard by that, glancing over at the nymph with a quietly thoughtful expression. Kanimir followed his gaze, fingers aching for more than just a scrap of paper to destroy as the chain she wore caught the light and tickled as it was moved. Harvael raised a quizzical eyebrow, suddenly gaining confidence, apparently possessive of his...treasure

"What use does an...man like you have for a pretty thing like that?" He asked, voice thickening briefly over his stumble of words. Kanimir smiled coldly, the expression reflected in his eyes as his gaze shifted from the nervous looking woman to the man before him.

"What use does an upstanding man like you have for an assassin?" He replied, watching Harvael's face contort into something resembling vague panic, his eyes widened and glancing swiftly between the Chaosbringer, the open windows, and the nyphm, though she seemed more of an afterthought. A soft, breathy chuckle escaped Nim, only adding to the discomfort plainly evident on Harvael's expression.

He turned away, towards the window, watching the last, persistent rays of light disappearing behind the rooftops of the city spread out before him. "We have a deal then. I'll return when they're dead and take my payment."

@SanctifiedSavage

This wasn't going to bode well for Keithia, she knew. Be quiet, be pretty. Those were the rules. Be looked at, not heard. With the way Harvael regarded her after the assassin left, she suspected the blame was going to land on her.

The man was gone but a moment before he stormed to her, jerking on the delicate chain and forcing her to either bend with it or have it break. Keithia bent. "What did you say? What did you promise him?" He was angry, obviously. Thinking she'd made a deal. She had nothing to offer and she'd not said anything, but Keithia didn't plead her case either. That hadn't worked in the past and she doubted it would work now. Harvael was looking for someone to blame, someone to take his discomfort and irritation out on.

Since she would no longer be his, it seemed, Keithia was the target. His large hand grabbed one of her small, delicate antlers and jerked her off the podium. Unlike a deer's antler, the slender bone was sensitive and it pained her greatly for him to even touch it in a rough fashion, let alone lead her by it. Keithea cried out but moved as she was pulled, the silver chain breaking as she was led from the room.

If she wasn't to be Harvael's anymore, he wasn't going to leave her on display.

Instead, he drug her to one of the hallways that led down to a service hall, where he threw her forward using the antler. She stumbled over her own feet and fell on her hands and knees, not even bothering to wipe at her eyes. She vaguely heard him order one of the other servants to dress her down, to find something cheap befitting her leave of the estate.

When his thundering steps left, the servant gingerly helped her up and they made their way to a side room where the veil was carefully lifted off and the silver chain, or what remained of it, taken off as well. She was put in a shift of a dress – something formless and cream colored that reached her knees – and taken to the entry hall where she was made to wait, kneeling.

Until she was told otherwise. 

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir lingered for a minute or two, perched on the edge of the balcony outside, hidden by the heavy drapes on either side of the balcony doorway. He heard Harvael move, heard the snapping chain and the staggering footsteps of the nymph being all but dragged from the room. He had to breath deeply for a moment to prevent himself snapping his fingers then and there. He wasn't even sure why these things affected him so deeply, settling a feeling of 'wrong wrong wrong' in his gut every time, every damn time. It vexed him, something like a vice that he had to fulfil or go mad from ignoring it. If only he could have been a gambler or a drinker instead, but no, his heart had settled itself on being an advocate for slave freedom.

He sighed, pushing off and falling the short distance to the garden below, landing silently. He had a job to do, and when he returned, the nymph could have her freedom. He pulled his hood back up, moving through the dusk now settling over the city and focusing on the task at hand.

---

Less than an hour, a few slit throats and a nicely redecorated manor later, Kanimir returned, inviting himself through the balcony from which he had left with a deft snap of his fingers that turned the stained glass to little more than shards of sand in an instant. He stepped through the jagged opening, eyes flickering around the room and confirming that the nymph was gone, before crossing over and exiting out into the hallway. The mansion was quiet, no servants in sight, or even Harvael, and he hid a grin in the fabric of his scarf as he lifted the pouch from his belt and dumped it on the shelf of a small vase stand. His evidence was in there, not that he thought Harvael would need much more proof of his work than the sure-to-spread news of the rather brutal end his targets had met.

That done, he turned and bounced down the steps he had ascended earlier, eyes raking the lobby for a servant to hail for his payment. A thought that Harvael had hidden her away and intended to pay him in a different manner flitted through his mind, but he ignored it. Harvael was egotistical and pompous, not a fool. He knew better than to try and slight the Chaosbringer.

To his surprise, he found both a servant and his 'pay' in one glance, a young, nervous looking man standing uneasily near the main entrance, with the nymph kneeling at his side. She had been changed into different clothes, a simple dress that hung loose on his frame. He snorted softly, amused. He had considered selling the fancy veil she had previously worn for money to send her on her way, but he supposed he would just have to provide her out of his own pocket now.

He approached the young servant near silently, taking a small amount of gleeful satisfaction from the jerk through his muscles as he realised someone was approaching him from less than sex feet away. Kanimir didn't give the boy a chance to recover, closing the distance and slapping his shoulder on his way to crouch near the nymph.

"Tell your master his proof is in the northern hallway." He glanced back, pale eyes narrowed, "Shoo."

@SanctifiedSavage

It was hard to judge the passage of time based on people's movements alone. She wasn't sure how long she remained kneeling, only that she didn't move. The person idly watching over her changed twice. Whether that meant an hour or not, she didn't know. Keithia didn't really bother to keep track either. Did it really, honestly matter?

From one place to the next.

Hopefully she wouldn't have to stand around and be gawked at. That'd be a plus. A bonus. She took to counting the various threads in the rug in front of her while she waited, hands on her lap, legs tucked under her. Her head still throbbed where her antler had been pulled, but that would fade with time. Such things usually did.

She heard someone approach, but assumed it was another to change out the watch. When that wasn't the case, and the stranger from before crouched in front of her, she reflexively looked at him. He had odd eyes. Like hers, in a way. Colorless. Where hers had been an emerald, forest green when she'd been apart of the land that had created her, his were... different. Didn't feel natural, to her, though her ability to distinguish such things had been severely muted since she'd been cut from the land.

Her black hair pooled around her while she watched him. Not afraid, there didn't seem to be a reason for that, but timidly curious. There were always new rules, with new owners, and she was curious what these new ones would be.

@HeartOfFlame

The servant scurried off, looking more than a little out of his depth, and Kanimir smiled, refocusing on the woman in front of him. She met his eye, that was good. It meant they hadn't completely broken her yet. He had been doing this for several years - and was unfortunately still none the wiser as to why he kept being so damn charitable - and he had seen more than a few slaves and captured creatures who had been so abused, so utterly broken by their life of captivity it had almost felt kinder to leave them in the life of servitude they knew.

He offered her a different smile, one not tinged by the near constant state of disdain and boredom, a touch of sadism. This was a genuine expression, testing the waters, experimenting with how much of an olive branch she would accept. He offered his hand, gloved to the second joint of his fingers, and rose back into a bent standing position, maintaining eye contact all the while.

@SanctifiedSavage

Now that this house, this box of human stink, didn't matter Keithia didn't pay the scurrying servant any mind. She heard him leave and that was all that mattered. So be it. Time to move forward.

Since he did not look away from her, neither did she. It wasn't a challenge or a question, simply meeting the gaze of someone who was equally looking at her. There was absolutely no fight in Keithia, no presence of violence. She simply wasn't capable of it, but that didn't mean she was broken or didn't have a will to live. By the very nature of what she was, Keithia wished very much to live. Even if the land she'd been from and all her family were gone.

Even if she had no purpose for being.

His smile meant nothing to her, either. She'd seen smiles on faces as pain was inflicted or used to cover what someone might do. Since Keithia had trouble reading expression, or more accurately the true intent behind it, she didn't assume the smile meant joy as it would on a nymph. It was just that – a smile.

Her hand lifted to take his because that was expected, and then she stood. A slender, fair skinned nymph. Certainly not human with her delicate antlers and too wide, charcoal eyes. The cloth slip over her destroyed any hint of a form under it. She was a square of cloth that led to slender legs and bare feet.

@HeartOfFlame

Meek. The word struck him as she used his hand to stand, her eyes meeting his steadily but lacking any real emotion. She had been used and abused, put out on display like a pretty little trinket from a foreign country. He sighed, releasing her hand and glancing down. Her feet were bare, pale and petite, a frown. He'd have to see about shoes, then. Not that it mattered overly, he'd take her to the Chateau first; Tyka would see about getting her properly clothed and fed.

Tired of the mansion lobby, Nim turned and pushed open the main door, stepping out into the night air and breathing deeply, before glancing over his shoulder to ensure the nymph was behind him. He was fairly certain she would be. He could see in her eyes and in her posture that she had been "taught" how to properly act as a possession, subservient, submissive, accepting of any and all mistreatment. That familiar feeling of itching under the skin of his hands reared its head, but he squashed it. She was here now, about to be handed her freedom. It would do little good to Riven Harvael's home, the man had probably not even been the one to originally throw her into this life. He was just a collector, admiring his treasures.

The Chateau was on the opposite side of the city from these streets of mansions and manor houses, a long walk through cobbled streets and a few shortcuts through parks and reserves. He paused on the edge of the courtyard, glancing down at her bare feet once more. She didn't seem frail, per se, but he doubted she could take that much walking on rough ground. She might not complain about it, but it would be painful. His goal here was to make her life a tad better, not inflict more suffering.

Kanimir hummed softly, thinking. There was a shoemaker a few streets over that he could edit their route to travel past. It would mean he would have to pay for the footwear out of his own pocket, rather than simply recycling old shoes from the multitude of mismatched clothing that had collected in the Chateau over the years, but, what the hell. He was damn near rich at this point anyway. That decided, he turned onto the road and started walking, a tad slower than his normal jaunty pace.

"So, what's your name?" He asked after a few beats of silence, the ambient noise of the city around them a background lull, but decidedly dull. Kanimir did not enjoy dull things, vibrancy and activity were his modus operandi, perhaps the reason few people saw him coming. They did not expect someone with a short attention span to be so skilled at ending lives. He smothered a rather inappropriate smile. "Unless you'd like me to just call you Nymph?"

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia watched, curious, with wide eyes as he seemed to be deciding something. It took only a moment, though, and then they were moving out of the lobby. Out of her former master's home and into the open air. She paused, just briefly, to take a deep breath. The city still smelt bad. Of people too close together, the sweat of bodies put to work, but it wasn't all contained in a box.

She savored that.

By the time he glanced back, she was there. Attentive and alert, watching him. Keithia would do just about anything to prevent harm coming to herself, which meant being ready to respond to whatever fell out of his mouth. She preferred this to standing on the podium. At least this way she had something to do. Something to put her mind to.

Even having her feet on bare ground felt heavenly. Unworked ground was always the best. Dirt, sand, grass. Anything that hadn't been smashed into place by human hands or overworked. The street didn't bother her at all and though her feet looked frail, she easily kept up and didn't seem fazed in the slightest. Rather, invigorated that she was outside and touching the ground.

It was just lovely.

Not that it showed on her carefully neutral face. Keithia didn't want him to know anything brought her the slightest ounce of joy. It was so frequently taken from her when it was made known. When he asked her name, she answered immediately, in a soft, lilting accident that sounded like she might be trying to sing it, "Keithia. Though some have called me Nymph."

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir watched her out of the corner of his eye, head tilted back to keep her in view as she trailed a foot or so behind. The hard ground didn't seem to bother her at all, her footsteps light and solid, not the tender, careful steps of someone bothered by the uneven surface. He contemplated not bothering with the shoemaker, but shrugged to himself. Might as well just get her some shoes, she could decide whether or not she wanted them afterwards, and his conscious would be clear.

Ha, what an irony. Kill a half dozen people, then buy a girl a pair of shoes and call it even. Sounded pretty fair to him. He snorted air in amusement, his thoughts wandering, and glanced back at the Nymph again.

"Keithia. Nice name. Foreign?" Perhaps a redundant question, it was pretty clear she was most likely not native to Connloath, though, he could always be wrong. "Mine's Kanimir."

She seemed happy to be outdoors. Her face was carefully crafted into something emotionless, but he could see the changes in her body language, the energy of life flowing through her at being out in the open air. Vaguely, he wondered how long she had been trapped in that room, on display like just another vase, without sunlight or room to breath, room to do anything but be ogled by strangers.

@SanctifiedSavage

Her eyes occasionally strayed skyward. Reflex, or just quiet want, to see it and revel in it for as long as she might be out. Keithia was careful to look at him whenever he spoke though and kept her hands clasped in front of her. She didn't think it particularly odd that he wanted to know about her. Generally, such questions would be exchanged between owners, but... Well, he'd either snagged her on a whim or hadn't wanted to discuss as much with her previous.

Keithia didn't see the point in lying or the merit in it. She was obviously not human and she wouldn't have known of places far away to say she was from other than exactly where she came from. The truth was easier to remember. "Yes. I was caught on a small island in what... people call the Yoreiq Isles. Then brought here."

Her own curiously would have to be satisfied by what he offered. A name, then. Kanimir. She wanted to know why he'd picked her. Why bother. What he wanted with her and what was he planning. They were curious question. Nagging ones but not the sort that ate her up with anticipation or anxiety. Keithia just... didn't live that way. She would take things as they came and deal with it as they did.

Though she was most certain he wasn't human. That didn't necessarily make him foreign though.

@HeartOfFlame

"Yoreiq, huh?" He blinked, pleased to be right but surprised by the distance. They had brought her quite a ways away from home. He stifled a sigh, turning down a side street from the main thoroughfare they had been walking on and wandering on at his leisurely pace. "Can't say I've ever been. Funny, I've traveled most everywhere else."

He didn't think she'd cottoned on to the idea that he hadn't actually brought her as a possession yet, then again he hadn't given her much to go on. She seemed quite accustomed to the life she had been living, not exactly expecting a change, freedom. He wondered what she would do with it. Would she go back to Yoreiq? Some of the slaves he had freed had returned to their homeland, tracked down their lost families, others stayed on, living in the Chateau under Tyka's watchful gaze, either unable to return home or unwilling too. He let them happily, not like he was using the place anyway.

The small shop he'd thought of sprung up in his vision suddenly, nestled between two townhouses. One of them belonged to the shoemaker, his shop attached on with a door in between. Kanimir had done him a favour once, something to do with his wife's friend's friend spreading rumours. Nim couldn't remember the details now, but they weren't really consequential. The favour of the past meant he got discounts and occasionally a free meal, so he was content to forget the semantics.

He glanced back at Keithia again, slowing his pace slightly and gesturing towards the sign hanging above the shop door, a rather plain carving of a boot with a few words etched underneath. "Want some shoes?"

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia had no concept of the distance she'd been taken, only that she'd been taken from her home and there wasn't anything to go back to. The glen was dead and so was the rest of her family. Forever detached from the land, she was... what she was. A broken nymph without a home.

It should have depressed her. Saddened her. While the memory of the event certainly did, the thought that the glen was gone now didn't. Of course it was gone now. It had been destroyed in her past. That event was sad. The thought it was presently gone now wasn't. What was – was. She could no more change that then she could sprout wings and fly off. She did not torment herself dreaming of things that would not, or could not, exist.

When they stopped in front of a small building, she remained a step behind. As was proper. She couldn't read anything that was writ, but she could assume some from the picture. Especially when he then asked if she wanted shoes.

Anyone else might've thought he was fishing for an answer. Keithia looked at him and answered honestly, "Preferably no." Dirty streets were better, to her, than carpeted halls. It all felt fake. Artificed and felt of neglect and decay. Shoes were just miniature trappings of the same thing. Her feet, though appearing delicate, were made for the outdoors and she was all the better for it. If a bit dirty now.

@HeartOfFlame

Hm, that was odd, but whatever. Kanimir shrugged, glancing down at his own boots and deciding he didn't need to stop in today. The shop front was looking a little sad, run down, business must've hit a rough spot. Another two mouths to feed probably wouldn't be appreciated, as much as they wouldn't turn away guests. He was tempted to knock anyway, impose, vex, but he retrained the urge. Instead, he fished around in his pocket for a moment, collecting the loose coins that had amassed there. A handful, not much, but better than a punch in the teeth.

He stepped up to the edge of the shop front, lifting the panel on the box set outside the closed shutters. The shoemaker let people toss their old footwear in there for repairs or revival, shoes they no longer wanted that would be recycled to the street urchins or poor people that lingered around the streets. Kanimir let his hand wander in the dark before he found a boot, deposited his handful of coins inside the opening, and slid the panel back down.

The night was quiet, compared to some. It was peaceful in a not-quite-irritating kind of way. Every now and then, he could stomach some silence, a little break. He'd spent a half hour slaughtering a group of men earlier in the night, that had quelled a little of his constant need for activity, motion, chaos.

He looked back to Keithia, slightly put out that he had come this way when she didn't even want shoes, but not really bothered either way. He hadn't asked her earlier, to be fair, and he didn't mind the walk. All roads led to home eventually. Well, not that he really called the Chateau 'home', but that sounded better than 'all road lead to place I own but don't really care for to be honest.'

He yawned, not bothering to lift a hand to cover the movement, and looked upwards, taking in the star filled sky for a moment. He wondered what the sky looked like in Yoreiq, out in the untainted air of the isles. He'd heard about the place here and there, from various sailors and travellers who'd visited the isles. They were supposed to be a nice place, welcoming, friendly. Boring. Still...he couldn't call himself a world traveler without actually travelling all over the world, could he?

He considered the nymph waiting patiently for him to make up his mind what he was doing. Hm. Maybe. He liked spur of the moment decisions. This would count. Then again, she might not want to go back. He'd see.

"Alright." He scrubbed a hand down his face, turning to continue walking down the side street. It came out somewhere near the Chateau, from memory. A couple streets over, maybe. "To the Chateau."

@SanctifiedSavage

It didn't occur to her, even then, that they'd walked this entire way just to get her shoes. Even though the place they stopped in front of had something to do with shoes. Or, she assumed, from the sign. He might've wanted to place an order or the like, but rarely would she be brought anywhere and handed anything at that moment in time.

But he'd asked and she'd answered.

Keithia watched him consider. He wasn't easy to read, per say, because she certainly had no idea what the man was thinking, but that didn't stop her from trying to figure out what was going on. As far as Keithia could tell, he would not need her. What purpose would she serve him?

She'd soon find out, she supposed.

This time, when they started walking, she didn't pay him nearly as much attention. Letting her eyes wander up and to the sky. He wasn't the needy sort who had demanded her sole focus and she'd take the risk to look at the stars. They were unfamiliar to her. Constellations she did not know and patterns she didn't recognize, but they were still stars. A vast tapestry that reminded her that there was a world outside of this grungy city.

What it might hold, she had no idea. But it comforted her to know that this was but one place and, out there, were places people were not. When he said they were going to the Chateau, she assumed it was his home. Or his place. Her new place.

So be it.

@HeartOfFlame

They walked in silence, the atmosphere surprisingly pleasant, despite the lack of distractions. Nim found himself creating sparks in his palms several times, watching the not-quite flames of Rivening dance between his fingers like little wind fairies. He tried not to do that within Connloath, in its current state of extreme magic prejudice, but with a habit as old as that one, it was near impossible to stop himself when his mind wandered.

Soon enough, they came to the streets where the houses began too thin out, packed less like sardines and spread with space for privacy between each household. He didn't need to look to know the nymph was still behind him, both knowledge he had gained so far of her temperament and the steady patter of her bare feet on the cobbles enough to let him know of her continued presence.

(https://cdn.weasyl.com/~deadlydaffodil/submissions/1696681/8cb6cf2c55abbf99949a5563b1f8a06ff26e94c8418ef8726b5c91bba6b0eafe/deadlydaffodil-chateau.jpg)

The majority of the windows in the Chateau were lit, light pouring from the open doorway as they approached up the long path, the loose stone of the courtyard crunching underfoot. Figures came and went in the rectangle of light, some carrying baskets, others clothing and linen, and a quiet hubbub overflowed out through the doors to add a certain warmth to the air outside. Despite himself, Kanimir smiled. This ragtag group of ex-slaves and convicts, both human, half breeds, and other exotic species, had made this place much more of a home than he ever could have.

He did look to Keithia, then, gauging her reaction as they crossed the last few meters to the threshold, no doubt seen already, or going to be soon. There were so many sets of eyes in the large house it was always only a matter of time before one of them spotted his approach, especially when he brought a new addition to the household.

By the time they were within arm's reach of the door, a young, female voice had broken through the gentle chatter of those living within, and a few of those milling around the open entrance turned to greet him, surging forwards in a loose circle.

"Kanimir's back!" "Master Kanimir! So good to see you again." "Who's this young one? Will she be joining us?" "Oh! Look at her pretty horns, what a sweetie!"

@SanctifiedSavage

The people around Keithia weren't much of a distraction as they walked down the street. She didn't care who they were, what they were, or what they did. If anything, they were quite out of her concern. The nymph's regard for humans was subpar, at best, so she only tended to pay attention to them when she was forced to.

Such as when one bought her. All the other species and races she might come into contact with were unknowns and unknowable, which didn't really sit well with her either. In that, she was apathetic. It wasn't that she was expecting to be excited, or pleased, to see anyone. The thought she might be happy to see another living creature never occurred to Keithia because it hadn't happened since she'd left her glen.

She was, however, happy to see the Chateau if only because there was space between it and the next place. Space meant actual ground. If she were able, that's where Keithia most wanted to be. Under a clean sky on natural ground.

The longing was real, writ across her face for a breath as they approached, before she schooled herself with hard neutrality. Afraid, for a moment, that it might have been seen and thus used against her. That didn't last long, however, as when the doors were open she was greeted with... well, she didn't know how to process the greeting. A myriad of people, their voices overlapping, hit her sensitive ears and she narrowed her eyes while she tried to hear it all without being overwhelmed.

Keithia stood her ground, though, and tried to take it all in. Looked at each in turn, trying to pin down who was what in regard to their place in the Chateau. What their open manner really meant and how she was to fit in all this. All it really boiled down to was a small frown of confusion playing itself on her face as she invariably looked to Kanimir.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir met them with open arms, so to speak, letting the younger ones push in around his legs and latch onto his frame, a chuckle breaking from him as one in particular, a satyr child he had found being used as a pack horse, firmly attached himself to Nim's arm. The group around them was varied in ages, species, ethnicities, but they were all the family they had found. No one had a specific standing in the Chateau, as strange as it might seem from the outside. He had drawn together a group of people who had been forced into specific work and chores, in was inevitable that the system they worked out for themselves was one decidedly less strict. Everyone did what they were comfortable with and happy to do, so long as everything was done and everyone did their part, it worked. He was glad for them.

He reached down to ruffle the hair of the twins stationed firmly at his waist with his free hand, a pair of hellions he had come across in a mercenary camp in the Valley a year or two back. They stuck to him like glue every time he came through, acting as his own personal retinue. It was kind of endearing, and apparently hadn't faded since his last visit. He let the words of all the gathered wash over him, not really listening to any of it, aware that if anything was actually important enough for him to have to deal with, they would come find him later and address it in a more controlled manner.

He felt eyes on him, and looked over to find Keithia, looking vaguely uncomfortable and more than slightly lost. He grinned, fingers entangled in the hair of the closest twin at his waist, that strangely welcome warmth engrossing him in its comfort. This wasn't his home, he had never really gone in for that kind of thing, preferred to live and travel light, but it was probably as close as he would ever get to making ties to one place. No, not the place, the people. This strange group he had adopted, they were his ties.

He freed his hand from the thoroughly ruffled hair and spread his arm, creating a little space towards the nymph. "This is Keithia, from Yoreiq." He introduced her warmly, eyes darting through the crowd in search of Tyka. She would be most offended if he passed Keithia's "induction" into the household onto someone else.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia wasn't sure what to think about it all. Neither did she know what anyone really was. She'd had limited exposure to things since leaving her island home, and what exposure she had been mostly human. Or what she thought was human. So all of this was just... There was a degree of shock that was still writ on her. Trying to process who they all were, what they were saying, and what was really happening in that moment.

Obviously, this was not going to be like the last place. But she didn't know what that meant. Keithia had been a nymph tethered to a glen, tending to the land that in turn, nourished her. Then, ripped from that, she'd been brought and sold to various people who made it quite clear what it was they wanted her to do and how she was to do it.

This? This was a chaos she didn't know how to deal with. A sense of constrained freedom that certainly had bounds and limitations, but because she didn't know what they were, or how to interact with any of these people, she just... didn't know what to do. Being told what was expected of her made things easy. Gave order to her broken life and, though it was painful and horrendous, at least made things clear cut.

This... She didn't know what to do with this. So she remained in place. Hands clasped in front of her. Her gray eyes moved from one person to the next, occasionally flicking back to Kanimir, as though waiting for some cue as to what it was she was supposed to do. What was her role in all this? Because the nymph had no idea.

@HeartOfFlame

He found the woman at the edge of the crowd, her dark silver hair visible above the heads of most of those around him. She was a tall woman, originally hailing from the tundras of Hyoite, and his first 'acquisition'. He smiled upon meeting her gaze, beckoning her closer with his free hand. The group party to let her through and she moved into the space with a casual grace, every movement deliberate and calm. She came to stand at his side, towering over him and Keithia, both, yet exuding an air of soothing calm that washed over all in her presence.

Kanimir had never been able to truly decide if Tyka was magic or not. She claimed not, but he had his suspicions that she might have been something of an empath. Either way, all those he had slowly but surely placed under her care in the Chateau loved her, if not at first, than by the time they had broken through the bonds of their previous lives. He glanced back at Keithia, lifting his hand towards Tyka invitingly.

"Keithia, this is Tyka, she kind of runs things here, as much as one can." He glanced up at the tall woman, meeting her calm, dark eyes with a mischievous grin. "She'll look after you."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia remained where she'd stood initially. Letting the rest of it sort of exist around her. There but not really apart of what was going on. Closed off from it all. She didn't know how to really be a part of anything. Not since she'd been removed quite violently from the one thing she'd been connected to – her siblings and the glen.

Size didn't intimidate Keithia. It was always someone's bearing toward her. How they held themselves. A certain sense about them. She couldn't read expression, or intent behind it, but she could get a general feel for someone. At least when they approached her with intent to harm or violence. Tyka did not give her that impression, so she did not shy away. Rather, as she had with Kanimir when he'd met her in the entry hall, she peered up at the woman. Curious, and a little off kilter because of what was going on.

If anything, she was also faintly relieved. Having some direction, someone to look to for clarity, was nice. The chaos and confusion of her arrive had stunned her into stillness but this, having another she could expect to tell her what must be done next, helped clear things up. At least in regards to what she should do or what she shouldn't. Keithia wasn't one who needed rules to live by – she'd been born into a carefree life – but since she'd arrived at this city, rules had kept her from being hurt and it was all she knew to keep herself safe.

@HeartOfFlame

Tyka's face cracked in a thin smile, not really warm or threatening, just an expression on a face. She wasn't much for displaying emotions through gestures or words, but how one acted and lived. A big believer in 'actions speak louder than words'. Still, she was a woman who knew exactly how to carry herself and was perfectly confident in her life and her role. She looked Keithia up and down once, nose wrinkling slightly at the state of her attire. Compared to her own colourful attire - a form fitting vest dyed a light sky blue accompanied by a calf-length, deep plum skirt - the simple cream dress was clearly not up to snuff.

Kanimir chuckled slightly at the familiar look, he'd seen it many times before when bringing her new additions to the household. He could imagine by the morning Keithia would be dressed in far more personalised clothing, if she had the courage to make that decision, or else Tyka's own style. The group around them had quiet now, the initial rush of excitement from his return fading to quiet pleasure at his company - a strange thought any day - and he waved a hand loosely, shoving his shoulder gently into the nearest shoulder to get the gathering moving.

"Come on then, you lot of loitering bastards. Get inside." He chuckled, mirth in every word. They responded in kind, soft snickers and smiles the familiar reply, and they moved towards the doorway and the home beyond as a group. Tyka stuck close to Keithia's side, watching her master be swept inside by the tide of bodies and creating a little bubble of space around the decidedly jarred nymph. Kanimir was content to leave her in the older woman's care and knew she would probably respond better to a gradual integration into the group dynamic rather than suddenly being thrust into the maelstrom.

Tyka paused in the entrance hall, a wide open space decorated only with a few drapes around the windows and a plush, but worn, rug. Personal affects littered the place in a neat sort of mess, everything appearing to belong to someone and be well worn and loved. It made it feel homely, like living, breathing people actually lived there, rather than the stiff, stagnant atmosphere found in the homes of most nobles and owners who would find a creature like Keithia attractive as an ornament.

The Hyoite woman looked her over again, her lips tilting downwards though her aura remained the same. She looped her thumbs into the belt around the top of her skirt, posture sagging slightly as she relaxed, clearly at ease. "A bath and some fresh clothes." She said, the words neither a question nor an order, just a statement. These are things and they are available.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia did relax some. It was a natural reaction to being in a place where there wasn't any aggression or violence. There was no reason to be tense, no reason to expect anything bad to happen to her. The shock had been what had made her tense initially, but that was wearing off too. Her hands fell to her sides, as opposed to being clasped so in front of her, and she watched the others react without a sense of uptight confusion.

Just a sense of being adrift in a world she did not know. Which was precisely what she was.

Keithia gravitated toward Tyka and the solid, sturdy presence she represented. Someone who knew what was going on and would direct Keithia in kind. A calm in the presence of so much movement. She liked that, though she wouldn't be able to put into words why – or even that she did. Going inside was not something the nymph wanted, but she did anyway. It's what was expected, so she did without complaint.

One last, quick peek at the sky before she committed herself to another enclosed space. No building would ever be spacious enough, vast enough, with enough windows, for her. They all smelt of confined human, though this one smelt more of creatures. Not just human. It carried less the smell of stress and fear, too. Such things tainted fabrics and porous surfaces, where the reek of such things soaked in and lingered. An acidic, sharp smell that tainted the base scent of whatever creature it came from.

This place lacked such an acrid scent, and that too, helped. It didn't make the walls better, but it helped.

Keithia peered around once she was in. Décor choices didn't mean anything to her and where one place might be cluttered with priceless artifacts and expensive draperies, and another barren, she wouldn't have understood the difference. Human tastes were just that – human. To her, it was all crafted wood, shaped metal, and woven fabric put in places that must be pleasing to them but were forever foreign to her.

Once she had taken it in, she looked to Tyka. The statement lingered a moment before Keithia nodded a little. Fresh water was always a blessing, if it were indeed that, and she didn't mind clothes. The need for them around people had become rapidly apparent, so she appreciated the barrier. Besides, something as normal and routine as a bath would be welcome.

@HeartOfFlame

Tyka nodded and moved forwards, her skirts swishing with the long, confident pace of her stride. She did not adjust for the slighter woman, trusting her to keep up one way or another, and moved into the room through which the main mass of the household had disappeared with Kanimir a few moments earlier. A stairwell rose up on the right and she turned to follow it, not ascending but walking through another doorway attached to the wall of the stairs. This led into another hall with several doors, and she stepped into the first room there.

The room held a large sunken area, filled with water and holding a wet taste to the air. Condensation clung to the walls and made the cold tiles underfoot slightly slippery for bare feet. A few wooden benches lined the walls, a clearly hand carved rack of sorts settled in the corner and hanging several plain towels. Tyka moved over to the edge of the large, rectangular pool, kneeling on the raised lip and trailing her fingers through the water. She hummed in a considering way, her expression hardly shifting from the original one she had worn upon meeting the nymph, and glanced up.

"Hot, warm, or mild?" She asked, the first quest for a preference from the slight woman. It was a simple question, yet the Hyoite woman knew that, to one who had been oppressed and taught to simply take what was given, whatever that might be, it could actually be quite an ask.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia had no problem keeping up. She certainly looked slender and frail, but nymphs were by their nature hardy. If anything, she'd been a little revitalized just from the momentary stint outside. She'd have been a poor creature of nature's spirit indeed if she was slow and so easily bruised. Keithia did have to walk quicker, of course. The woman was taller than she was and her stride was easily three of Keithia's normal, but she didn't complain or mind.

Movement never bothered her.

The nymph was making idle note of the way they were going. Starting to commit to memory the layout. Not because she was planning some grand escape, but because it was frequently required of her to know where to go once she'd been shown a place. That and she didn't want to get lost in a box – a house – or whatever they liked to call it. So she tracked where they went and how they got there.

Upon arriving, she stepped in and took a moment to absorb this room too. How wet the air, the tiles, and her feet became upon entry was nice. A smile threatened, but didn't, extend across her face. She liked this room, Keithia decided. As much as any room in a human house could be, it was the nicest. The smell of water dominated and destroyed the scent of anything else. It was... well, it was a relief to her.

"Any," Keithia answered. It might have seemed an agreeable answer for one who had been in a life of servitude, but it was also the truth. The water temperature didn't really matter to the nymph. She loved it all. She experienced nearly the entire spectrum, from the hot waters of her island home, to the chill of the ocean, to the stark cold of water thrown on her upon arriving in human lands. She loved it all. Water was water and every temperature range had its merits to her. But, because she had been asked a specific question, she quickly corrected with a real answer, "Hot." Close to home, then.

It was an effort to remain in place, waiting. She wanted to shuck the cloth and just... climb in. Stay in the water, in the room where it smelt of just that and nothing else, but she waited. Expression carefully neutral and her hands clasped in front of her to stop her from fidgeting.

@HeartOfFlame

Tyka nodded, swishing the water for a moment more before standing and drying her fingers on the edge of her skirt. She beckoned the Nymph forwards, her eyes running over the plain dress she wore with that same look of mild dissatisfaction. It was there and gone in a moment, her attention refocused on stepping to the side and allowing Keithia closer to the pool. She moved over to the side of the room and pulled a small, wicker basket out from under one of the benches, placing it close to the smaller woman.

"Put your clothes in here and set it by the door, someone will collect it later." She stated softly, already heading for the door. "There are towels over there, take as long as you wish."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia moved forward when she was called for, feet firm on the wet tiles. It'd be a sad day when a nymph slipped on a wet surface. Her hair was fanitly damp, as though the water wanted to cling to her, which she didn't mind at all. She lightly gripped her own hand while she waited, patient but quietly excited.

Her dark gray eyes regarded Tyka when she gave her instruction. Clothes in the basket, by the door. Location of the towels, which was the expected way that Keithia would dry herself. But it was the last part that had her eyes widen just a little. Noticeable if someone were looking for it. Take as long as you wish.

Keithia remained where she was until Tyka left and she was alone. Then, smoothly, she pulled the shift of a dress off of her and put it in the basket. Folded neatly. The basket was put near the door, as she'd been instructed, before Keithia made for the bath. Though she'd been through a lot and ate as little as any servant might, she'd retained a healthy weight and shape. Not all of Keithia's nourishment came from physical sustenance. Being in the city certainly didn't help and feeling stifled in a boxed room never made her feel well, but unless someone was going to entomb her in a metal box, it would take a long time to starve her.

With a small, private smile, she eagerly slipped into the hot water. Near dunking herself and lingering there with her eyes partially closed. It was everything she'd wanted. A hot, sweet embrace that she did not wish to leave any time soon. The smell and press of water around her chased away the rest of the world for awhile and, as she situated herself against the edge of the tub comfortably, Keithia invariably fell asleep in the tub. Comfortable for the first time in so long and relaxed as much as she could be. Her head pillowed on her folded arms.

@HeartOfFlame

By the time Kanimir managed to pull himself away from the eager members of the household, night had truly fallen. Darkness lingered outside the brightly lit windows, the chill of night's embrace creeping through the entrance halls as he moved through the Chateau. It was kind of pleasant, a breath of crisp, cool air washing over him, bringing with it the varied scents of the city and the lands beyond. It tasted slightly burnt in his mouth, like the aftertaste of an overcooked meal. The scent of ash was common on the winds these days.

He sighed, wriggling his fingers in response to that near constant itch racing beneath his skin, and refocused on his previous task. He hadn't seen Keithia or Tyka since arriving earlier, but he knew the Hyoite woman's first priority would have been getting Keithia new clothes and probably a bath. He smirked slightly at that thought, pulling at the collar of his own shirt. He'd been traipsing through the Connloathian wilds for nearly a week with no more water than he carried in his flask, it was well past time he looked to his own hygiene as well. Preferably before Tyka came after him with a bucket of ice water and soap.

That mildly amusing thought - and memory - in mind, Kanimir turned away from the darkness lingering beyond the Chateau doors and made his way towards the pool room, as the residents of the house were want to call it. He wasn't sure what it had been originally, just a pit in a room when he'd 'acquired' the Chateau and the land it sat on, but he had seen it, and the large kitchen furnaces directly beneath the floor boards, and taken an opportunity. How the furnaces were kept hot enough to heat the water to any desired temperature at any given time of the day, well...that was their little secret.

The door was shut when he arrived, and he felt a split-second's hesitation, hand raised to the door knob, as to whether he should enter unannounced. He paused, lower lip caught between his teeth, then shrugged and rapped the knuckles of his other hand on the wooden surface. He had a feeling Keithia would not be in any hurry to leave the water, but he wasn't exactly prepared to just leave her unchecked for such an extended period of time either. It was not that he thought the nymph would run, she seemed too docile for that, but she seemed to lack direction, a purpose, and leaving her alone for too long still seemed like an advanced move, rather than her current state of mind.

The door swung inwards almost silently, and he stepped in cautiously, glancing from wall to wall to ensure he wasn't going to catch the poor creature unawares. He wasn't by any means prudish, or for the most part respectful, but there was a thin line between disrespect and ignoring basic human decency, and as a general rule he tried to stay on the safe side.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia slept. Content and comfortable, warm and in a deep sleep. With no one to rouse her and not in an uncomfortable box or stuffy room. Rather, she was surrounded by the sweet smell of water and caressed by the warmth, she just slept. Like she hadn't in a long time. Dreamless.

Right up until there was a knock on the door. She resisted being roused, but her mind eventually connected to reality and reminded her where she was, what was going on, and that she should actually wake up.

It was to Keithia stretching in the center of the pool, arms over her head and back arched, that Kanimir entered. Her long black hair was fanned out around her waist and clung to the rest of her like inky webbing. Lazily, her dark gray eyes regarded him. Normally, she might be concerned about not having any clothes – not because she cared about nudity, but because she'd learned humans could be grabby – but he wasn't human. So she didn't care. It also helped that she was infinitely more relaxed now than when she'd arrived and couldn't think of a reason to be anything other than.

So, she asked softly, "Did you need something?" Expectant and attentive, she watched him as her arms settled in the water and idly played with her hair.

@HeartOfFlame

She looked relaxed, floating idly in the middle of the pool with her hair spread out like a dark, inky puddle, body bared. A smile pulled at one corner of his lip, the door shutting softly behind him, and he shook his head, mildly amused. It was good to see she had taken the first step, clearly more comfortable in the water than the cold stone walls of some fancy mansion. Technically, she was still inside, but this was different. Kanimir got that, he felt the same many times.

There was, after all, a reason he wandered, a deeper one than just searching for work and wanting to see the world. It was often just as hard for him to contain his own chaotic soul as it was for others.

He let a chuckle slip through his lips, padding slowly into the room and lowering himself by the edge of the pool, one leg tucked under him, the other lifting his knee near his chin. He leaned forwards and ran his fingers through the water, hot against his skin, but not overbearingly. He liked the heat, the warmth of sun, fire, or anything hot, really, felt similar to the race of Rivening through his veins, but less destructive.

"No," He replied to her soft, expectant question, lifting his other hand to run through his hair. Greasy. 'Gross', "Just wanted to make sure you hadn't drowned or something."

He quirked a lopsided smile with the words, his voice echoing slightly in the large, empty room. Condensation had begun to settle on his skin, damp and warm, turning his earthy skin darker with the dirt hidden on his arms. He needed a bath too, but he wasn't going to impose on the nymph's enjoyment of the warm waters, a long needed comfort, he could see.

He frowned slightly, fingers drawing lazy ripples in the surface of the pool, and glanced over at Keithia again. She didn't seem to mind his gaze, whether from conditioning or just not caring that he could see, well, everything. Another muted smile, bland amusement.

"Where do you come from, Keithia? Nymph's normally have a specific area they watch over, right? Can you tell me about it?" He kept his voice gentle, trying to show that she had a choice as to how much, or how little, she imparted. Whatever the events that had led her to Connlaoth, in the manner he had found her, could not be pleasant.

@SanctifiedSavage

It didn't bother her, either, that he entered and it was just the two of them. Still now she didn't sense any manner of hostility or aggression in his movements, so she didn't tense and didn't worry. Instead, she just watched him with the same wide eyed curiosity she had when they'd first met. Keithia had nothing to hide, obviously, and so her own interest was writ across her face.

Not even once he was close to the water did she shy away or move from where she was. Not because she thought of the tub as his but because the proximity didn't bother her. There was no reason for it to. Clothes had been introduced to her upon her arrival and, initially, she had hated them as much as the humans that had caught her. The only reason for them, she'd learned, was to keep hands and unwanted attention away from her. Personal space was another thing that had never been an issue until she'd arrived.

It just wasn't a thing nymphs worried about. Relaxed and unconcerned as she was, he didn't bother her. She noted the hand he ran through his hair and even quirked a brow when he expressed some concern she might've drowned. Was that a joke?

"I had been created in a glen. I only knew its name as home." Her eyes remained on him as she spoke. No pain, no sense of loss. This was the past and it had already been writ. She could not change it. "I lived there with my sisters. Slavers came and tried to take us all, but when they did, my sisters died when they lost their connection to the glen. Only I survived." Talking about it was not painful.

The memory of their deaths certainly was, and she did not revisit it in her mind. Keithia didn't want to relive that particular event then, so she simply spoke of it. Quick and clean. To linger was to think on it, and she did not want to. "I suspect, now that we are all gone, the glen has faded as my own color has faded." The death of her sisters and her absence would mean whatever magic, whatever had made the glen home, would be gone too. She knew that as she knew she must breath and that the sun would rise.

There was nothing to go back to.

Idly, she pulled her hair to the side, collecting it to one place in the water, and gently offered, "Did you need to bathe? There is enough space for two of us." It had been the gesture through his hair that made her think as much and she did not want him to think she was lording over it. That was not how a nymph behaved.

@HeartOfFlame

He listened in silence, let her speak at her own pace, watched the lack of emotions in her eyes. The events she spoke of didn't pain her, not now, but he could sense a lingering feeling of loss in the words, even through the neutral way she spoke. Kanimir had never really lost anything like that, he didn't make ties to have broken, never had. Even his father's death, those years ago when he was still just a boy, hadn't affected him as deeply as perhaps it should have. The man was a man, human, mortal. Kanimir was mortal too, one day he would die as his father had died, but that was the future, as his father's death was the past, and he would face it when it arrived. Most likely with silver tongue and sword.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, his hand momentarily stilled in its quiet movements through the water. Her words explained her colouring, at least, the bland, almost monochromatic tone to her eyes, hair, and skin all seeming slightly odd previously. He had been led to believe nymphs were creatures of life and nature, but if she had been cut off from her home, her source of magic, it would make sense.

A stifled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a chuff of air, broke from him as his gaze staggered between her and the water, a brief moment of consideration, then he shrugged. "Well, Mehan wouldn't approve, but yes."

The thought of the stiff, elven man brought another smirk to his face as he shifted his legs to sit cross-legged on the pool lip, untying his braces and removing his shirt before starting on the braids in his hair. The thin one beside his ear was tangled around the thin silver band he used to keep it tied, and a wince shot briefly across his face as he tugged at it with nimble fingers, the expression swiftly turning into a neutral frown, bordering on exasperated.

@SanctifiedSavage

With the story of her home told and no further questions, Keithia let the idea of it all go away. Previous owners had been curious too, thinking her some exotic thing to be colored so. But she was not. Just a nymph whose home had been ruined. It was a droll story, in all truth, and short in its telling. The only real weight to it were in her memories, and she did not wish to share those.

They haunted Keithia when she was alone.

Idly, the nymph watched him as he decided he would. Communal bathing was rather common, or had been, for her and her sisters. Here it was... odd. Some servants did so, others did not. Some valued the privacy, some wished for the company. Figuring out who was which was not Keithia's strong suit, so she simply offered when it was her choice to do so, and only when she felt comfortable to do so. Thus far, Kanimir had done nothing to her to make her think this was a bad idea.

She watched him fuss with his hair for a long breath before, unbidden, she thought of one of her sisters doing much the same. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she moved to him. Gently, she brushed his hands away and untangled the braid for him. Having hair as long as her own, and sisters much the same, it was an easy thing to do. Requiring some manner of patience.

When she was done, Keithia moved back to where she was, idly gathering up her own hair so it would not be in the way once he got in the water. Unbidden, she remarked, "You are odd." It wasn't meant as an insult and, given her tone, she meant it as a curious statement. Followed by, "Why did you request me as payment?"

@HeartOfFlame

He blinked and looked up when the water shifted and rippled around her movement, eyes tracking her as she moved over and softly moved his hands. He let her, placing them on the wet tiles beside him instead, and leaned forwards slightly to make it easier for her to reach his braid. A smile tugged at his lips as she retreated, though not in fear, he noted. It was a simple matter to remove the rest of his attire, the long braid down his back falling loose as soon as he pulled the tie from the end. It spread out around his bare back, pooling on the ground a little as he worked on his boots. It was not quite as long as Keithia's, ending just below his hips, and held much less volume.

He was in the process of slipping into the water when she spoke again, his svelte, scarred body bared to the air. A short laugh broke from him as he sunk into the water, mirth filling his eyes at the comment. "I've been called far worse things."

The pool was perfectly warm, washing over his skin and burning the top layer of filth and grime, tugging his head back with the weight of his hair. He positioned himself comfortably against the rim of the pool, one arm resting on the lip he had previously sat on. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug to her question, lower lip pulled between his teeth for a moment. Ah, this one. It never got any easier to explain.

Some of the people he had freed over the years never really bothered to ask why, they just took their freedom and ran with it. Tyka had not, but Tyka had been the first, the beginning. She had been complicated. Neither of them really understood it now, even, several years later, going on a decade. He could never explain quite why he did what he did, why he had gathered all these mismatching, oppressed people and given them a choice for an at least semi decent life. He sighed, sinking down in the water so it covered from his chin down, eyes lifting to glance at Keithia.

"It'd be easier to explain if I had some some tragic past, a sob story of being oppressed and abused, etcetera etcetera etcetera." He spread his hands, the motion muted under the water. "But I don't. All I've got is a house full is miscreants and a surprisingly clear conscience."

He shrugged again, tipping his head back to scrub the hot water over his horns, working all sorts of dirt and grime out of the many grooves and notches in them. He wondered how much of it was Rivening Dust, as he liked to call it. People were messier than doors. "I saw you were unhappy and I wanted to help you."

@SanctifiedSavage

Whim. It was as good as reason as any, Keithia supposed, and it certainly explained how random it really had been. Because it was just that. It didn't disappoint her and she wasn't expecting anything particularly profound either. Rather, she got exactly what she'd asked for. The answer.

Whim.

How fickle the world could be that her life would be determined by such things. She watched him, large, charcoal gray eyes curious but otherwise unexpressive. Keithia remained where she was, content in the water. As close to something pure and natural in the city as she ever could be short of sitting out in the front yard of the estate, though the air could be oppressive out there. She considered a moment before asking the next easy question, "What now?"

She could guess. That he would let her stay here, as he did with all the others he'd freed. She appreciated the sentiment, and the bath, but she had no more idea what to do here than she did in the city. Nor would she know where to go if he said she could leave. Perhaps, Keithia mused, it was an unfair question to ask him at all. But if he wanted to ask, then she could pose the question and see what he had to say.

The nymph certainly had no idea what she should do, or where she should go. What function she might serve now that there was an opportunity to decide... or what, even, the available choices were.

@HeartOfFlame

He huffed a breath, tilting his head to one side in consideration and treading water. She certainly seemed to be gaining a little more confidence, piecing together the idea of what was going on here. Grasping the concept of her freedom. He wasn't entirely sure what she would do with it though, if given the choice. Only one way to find out, he supposed.

"You could stay here." He began, collecting his wayward straying hair in a handful and running fingers through the tangled strands. "Many choose too. I think they prefer living with others who know what they've been through. The Chateau gives them a safe place to call home."

He glanced at her, a soft sigh escaping through his nose. "Or you could go back to Yoreiq, I guess. Try and find your old home, restore it. Or not. I get the feeling you'd prefer to be away from all," he waved a hand to encompass the room, the house, and the city beyond, "this. There are plenty of other places in the world where you might be able to find peace. Just...not in Connlaoth."

She was too rare and exotic to stay safely in Connlaoth. If she wasn't captured again for her looks and uniqueness, she would end up getting killed because of her status as a magic creature. People like him could hide their abilities, pretend that, even if they weren't completely human, they didn't have magic. It was all a rather simple affair, really. But when the magic was a part of you as much as breathing, it wasn't quite so easy.

@SanctifiedSavage 

Keithia shifted to lean against the opposite rim of the tub. Relaxing. Her hair swirled around her with the movement, lazy and concealing. A black shadow that followed her. What he offered was what she expected. To stay or go. Go where was always the follow up, and she didn't have an answer to that either. The world was vast, she knew, and there was likely a place she could find that would be better than the city... but it was getting there.

The nymph held no illusion as to her ability to traverse human lands. Knowing as little as she did, having so little capacity for the same extremes as mortals did, it was just as likely she'd be caught again and wind up in another house, as another possession. She wanted to avoid that, of course.

So there was no good answer. Keithia didn't say that aloud. Ultimately, that wasn't his problem. All of those were hers. Instead, she averted her eyes and began to idly play with her hair. Something to do when she was uncertain of what to do. If anything, she had time to figure it out. That was better than nothing at all.

@HeartOfFlame

They sat in the silence for a while, Kanimir eventually going about cleaning the rest of the accumulated grime from his skin and hair. He sunk down under the water, letting it close over his head and fanning his hair out in a large, burgundy pool. He remained under the water for a while, eyes closed, submerged in the warmth and almost calming pressure of the heat all around him. Eventually, his lungs began to burn, and he slowly floated upwards, blowing a breath in disgust as his hair fell flat over his face and stuck.

Brushing it back out of his eyes, he looked over at Keithia, a hint of a smile playing at his lips again. She looked contemplative, like she might have been considering her options, but also strangely peaceful. That was good, progress. He moved back to lean against the lip of the pool again, lifting his hair out of the water and letting it sprawl over the tiles behind his head. He regarded her quietly for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"I travel a lot." He said, spontaneously, not really considering the words before he threw them out there. It was his way, acting on gut and instinct, spur of the moment. There was something about her that made him want to help her, more so than just handing her her freedom and a bag of coin and sending her on her way. It was confusing and slightly bothersome, something he needed to puzzle out. He hated puzzles.

"I'd be happy to help you get where you're going, when you decide where that might be."

@SanctifiedSavage

It wasn't odd to her when he began to clean himself and it didn't draw her attention. If anything, it was a familiar, calming sense. Bathing with someone in a place that didn't reek of human. Listening to the water move. Nothing would ever be like the glen, of course, but little moments as such reminded her of what peace could be, what quiet and calm and relaxation could be like.

It was nice.

For a time, she let her mind wander. Be blank. Relax and recover. Destress. She had time and there was no rush, it seemed. Keithia should use it to recenter herself and learn if that was an option.

The nymph glanced up at him when he spoke. Travel? Her hand stopped moving in the water as she considered what he had to say. "Where do you travel?" The offer was generous and one should would remember. Once she knew where she wanted to go. But...

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir waved a hand, flicking water off the ends of his fingers. "Pretty much everywhere. I think Yoreiq is the only place I haven't been yet, though that's more to do with me and boats not getting along than anything." He cracked a quick grin, unashamed to admit his weakness in that area. Water? Yes. Ships, sailing on water? Mmmm not so much.

It was true, by now, though. He had travelled through most of the continent, been accepted in places, chased out in others. There was always work for a man like him, and with his proficiency, his reputation had spread. Every country had their dirty liars, their scoundrels. There was always someone willing to pay someone else's life away. Kanimir never had moral quarries about it. He was the blade, yes, but every good blade needed a hand to wield it, and he only struck where varied hands pointed him.

The thought of La'Marri shot through his head briefly, the image of his old home faded and worn by the time it had been since he had last even thought of it. He hadn't been back since his father's death, not out of some misguided sense of guilt and loss, but purely because the place held nothing for him. He had had few friends from his childhood, and the peace of those who dwelled within its safety had always grated on him. He much preferred to be out in the world, living and fighting every day, moving and learning and leaving chaos in his wake.

As was his nature.

"Have you ever heard of La'Marri?"

@SanctifiedSavage 

Keithia watched him as he spoke. If he did travel so much, that might be the way to learn. Or rather, one of the better ways. She considered a long moment, shaking her head at his question. She didn't even know the name of the city they were in, let alone what a La'Marri was.

So, embolden by the nap and the comfort of the water room, she asked – though her voice was as soft as always, "Would you let me travel with you?" He seemed competent, obviously enough to be a concern to her former owner and he'd been able to take her as payment. If he was willing to take her along as he traveled, she could see... more... and there wouldn't be as much of a chance of her getting snagged again.

It was probably the safest way she could see the world. "I'll try to stay out of the way." It would also be a lesson in how to travel. Rather, a lesson in a lot of things, she supposed. Freedom. Travel. The world. The more she thought about it, the more Keithia liked it.

@HeartOfFlame

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, though the negative answer to La'Marri was predictable. Her words, her question, were unexpected though, and despite himself, he found a grin breaking out on his features. It was strange, normally he preferred to travel alone, preferred to have no ties and nothing to worry about but himself. Yet, somehow, this thought invigorated him. Maybe, because she was as inhuman as he was, if in a different way. Most he had ever had accompany him had been human, distinctly so, and they had bored him.

He nodded, hooking his arms over the lip of the pool in preparation for pulling himself out, grin still in place and a little mischievous light working its way into his eyes. "I wouldn't be against the idea."

He hefted himself up by his forearms, resting his rear on the edge of the pool and letting his feet dangle in the water. The air outside the water was damp and cool, but not chilly, brushing over his bare skin and raising goosebumps along his arms. Only a moment after he had finished the movement, the door behind him creaked, and his gaze turned to find the source of the intrusion.

Another grin, slightly more wicked and decidedly entertained, grabbed his lips as his eyes met the slightly mortified gaze of Mehan. The elf was half in the door, hand still grasped loosely around the doorknob, and his eyes were flickering rapidly between Kanimir, Keithia, the pool and back to Kanimir. His mouth opened in what Kanimir imagined to be a silent scream, brows drawing down in a contorted expression of grievous outrage.

"Master Kanimir! This is most inappropriate of you! I - where are your clothes?!"

@SanctifiedSavage

Spoiler

I may or may not be cackling at this poor elf child's pain right now ralmao

[close]

Keithia was quite pleased when he answered her and it was in the affirmative. Things were starting to seem better and better. Having a knowledgeable traveling companion would be the safest way for her to learn. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. It had none of the mischievousness that his had, just simple delight that he'd said yes. "Thank you," she said, softly.

Which she meant. It was probably inconveniencing him and if she had a way to repay him, she would. For now, her thanks would have to do.

When the door opened, Keithia looked unconcerned. Just as she had when Kanimir had entered. If this was a public bath for the house, it only made sense. If it was a private one, well.... Apparently not while Keithia was in it. Either way, she didn't feel any need to cover herself didn't move to do so. Instead, her brow furrowed a little when the person who opened the door seemed so upset.

Inappropriate? Did the other person expect Kanimir to bathe in his clothes? Her confused expression turned to Kanimir hoping he could explain the odd behavior because she had no idea what was going on. In an attempt to pacify the other, she said softly, "He has done nothing inappropriate." They had bathed and spoke.  She couldn't imagine anything that might be inappropriate that could've happened save... well, if he'd tried to wash himself fully clothed. That was more confusing than inappropriate, though.

@HeartOfFlame

Mehan continued to splutter, and Kanimir had to suppress a not so subtle laugh at the elven man's pain, and Keithia's soft, innocent defence of him. It was kind of sweet, in a way. An odd thought, but one he found strangely warming.

Turning the rest of his body to face the door, he stood, waving a hand airily to his clothes piled near the edge of the pool. "Mehan, relax. You wouldn't be happy if I hadn't bathed, now would you? And like Keithia said, I've done nothing inappropriate." If his expression didn't show his vast amusement, his voice certainly did, holding smugness and laughter at the same time, made more so by the brash, uncaring posture of his hands on his hips and his torso inclined slightly back.

Mehan only made a terrorised sound, flitting across the room faster than the eye could follow and snatching up a towel off the rack in the corner. This, he proceeded to throw at the unrepentant Chaosbringer, doing his best to look anywhere but Keithia or Kanimir's eyes. Kanimir did laugh then, a soft chortling sound that broke through his lips as he took the towel and wrapped it lazily around his waist, half turning back towards Keithia with mirth dancing in his eyes.

"You're welcome to stay in here as long as you want, but I think Mehan actually came to tell us dinner is ready." He glanced at the elf, who was not glaring at him rather fiercely, and received a taut nod, followed by a heavy exhale of air.

"Yes, Miss Tyka asked me to inform you that it will be being served presently." He replied stiffly, his voice holding all the affront, indignation, and general displeasure with Kanimir's continued existence he could muster. Kanimir, for his part, just flashed another easy grin and look back to Keithia.

"If you're hungry."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia would be the first to admit she didn't know the first thing about mortals. They were just a confusing bunch. She looked between the two and, while the situation seemed amusing to Kanimir, it most certainly wasn't to the newcomer. For her part, she remained quiet and observant. Watching. She didn't want to say anything to upset the other – Mehan – any more than they actually were. It wasn't because she thought they were aggressive or particularly scary, but because she didn't want to cause anyone undue stress.

Which they seemed to be experiencing a great deal of.

When Kanimir informed her it was because dinner was ready, Keithia began to climb out of the bath. She idly wrung out her hair as she did so it wouldn't bring a lot of water with her. She glanced between them before she asked, trying to be considerate of the still flustered Mehan, "Would you like me to wear a towel as well?" As relaxed as she was, Keithia was perfectly content to attend dinner as she was but she also understood that was not exactly the way things were done. However, she didn't see anything else for her to wear besides a towel.

Which was fine. The nymph wasn't choosy about her choice of clothes. "It would be nice to join you for dinner," she added. Keithia, now clean and well rested, was rather hungry.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir almost choked on air at the look on Mehan's face as the slight woman pulled herself out of the water, the elf turning a deep shade of red and averting his eyes with a deeply pained expression. He had a good heart, but he was so stiff, an air of pretension and pompousness always seeming to cling to him. In a former life, he had been the personal servant of a Duke or some such, before he outgrew his usefulness and somehow found his way into Tyka's view. It was never not amusing to see him fluster like this, so easily upset by the actions of those less caring of the 'proper way' of doing things.

Still, Tyka liked him, and to be honest, Kanimir did too, most days, so he took pity on the poor sod and clapped a bare hand on his shoulder, half turning him towards the door. "If you could go tell Tyka we'll be there shortly, that would be swell, 'Han." He chuckled.

The elf, still highly flustered and several shades darker than his normal skin tone, just nodded and turned on his heel, strutting from the room with what little shred of dignity he believed he had left. Kanimir chortled softly in his wake, the sound soft and fond, and turned back to Keithia.

"I know you probably don't really care about clothes, but I think Mehan might actually bust a vein if you don't, sorry." He moved over to collect his discarded clothes, sorting his hair ties and bands out of the piles and slipping them onto his fingers before tossing the rest of his apparel over his shoulder, damp skin rippling in the soft light. "Wrap up with a towel and we'll see if we can find some clothes you at least kind of like."

@SanctifiedSavage

Well, she had tried to lessen the other person's distress, but it didn't seem to have helped. A faint frown touched her lips and she remained distant, physically, from the pair of them so she wouldn't, hopefully, cause more. She didn't know what it was that was doing it. That she was in the same room with Kanimir?

It wasn't until Kanimir had escorted the elf out and clarified that she should wrap in a towel that she eventually made the connection. She sighed through her nose but picked up a towel anyway, wrapping it over her just, under her arms. Hiding what she'd learned must be hidden.

She turned to Kanimir and wordlessly looked to see if it met with approval. Her hair was still dripping and framed her, but she was adequately covered for the moment. She wasn't sure what manner of clothing would suit. It all was rather samey to her, so Keithia was inclined to go with whatever he was going to suggest. It wasn't like the nymph had a sense of style or preference. Unless as little as possible counted, but she didn't want to suggest as much and distress anyone else.

When they were alone, she asked out of curiosity, "Why does it not distress you in the same way?" She was finding all manner of questions bubbling up to the surface now that she sensed she had the freedom to ask. Conversely, Keithia added, "And why does seeing us distress him so?"

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir waited patiently while she acquired a towel, fingers fiddling idly with the bands temporarily entrapping them. His hair hung in gentle waves behind his back, made soft and slightly curly by the constant braid he kept it in, the short strands around his face already beginning to dry in short, fluffy strands. He smiled at the slightly exasperated noise she made at the suggestion to cover up, but nodded when she had done so and made his way to the door.

Pulling it open and stepping out into the decidedly crisper air of the hallway, he chuckled a little at her curiosity, waiting for her to step out and sealing the warmth in the bathing room again. "Mehan's a bit of a prude. He came from a high standing household of pomps and prims. They have a certain...Opinion about," he waved a hand to encompass them both and their lack of clothing, grin still playing at his lips, "skin."

He led the way down the hall and up the stairwell Tyka had passed earlier, old yet still plush carpet digging in-between his bare toes and drying the the moisture from the soles of his feet. "I don't really give a damn either way. We've all got bodies, nothing to be ashamed of." He wrinkled his nose, amused, rather than annoyed, this time. "Unless your incredibly fat. That's kinda gross."

He talked while he walked, leading the way down the second story floor and several corners before eventually stopping at a wide pair of well worn doors. Everything in the Chateau seemed homely, lived in, though he supposed that wouldn't mean much to Keithia, coming from the lush jungles of Yoreiq to cold rooms of stone and wood, from freedom and peace to being treated like an ornament. He pushed the doors inward, smiling at that old creak of hinges they still hadn't bothered to fix. The room beyond was basically a giant wardrobe, several rows of horizontal poles holding a wide assortment of clothes in various styles, colours and ages.

The Outfit Room, as several of the younger members of the household had dubbed it, had come with everything else in the Chateau, holding the majority of clothes hanging on the racks when Tyka moved in. Several additions had been made since, even more variety colouring the racks since Kanimir had last seen it, and he spread a hand invitingly to Keithia, stepping to the side and letting his eyes traverse the rows, looking for his style. Tyka normally kept an area portioned off for him, bits and bobs thrown on a slightly segregated bit of racking that almost always appealed to his tastes.

She was good like that.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia filed his answer away with the other things she'd been told. Clothes were important, a representation of who owned her and what she said about herself. Or so another servant had told her. That particular rule, she believed, didn't apply to Kanimir. He didn't seem particularly fussed about how the people in his home dressed, or weren't dressed, as the case may be. Which meant that things varied depending on where she was or who she was around. That made sense. People were different.

Rules would be different. But that would mean learning all the nuances was going to be... well. A chore.

She sighed again as they walked through the stuffy house, senses being assaulted at the smell of mortal and human. Not all human, of course, but the city leaked into the place and there was always the press of walls around her. It wasn't as bad as when she first arrived, but it always made her feel... uncomfortable.

Keithia followed without complaint, her hair leaving wet drops in her wake.

The Outfit Room was a little overwhelming, at first. So much color, so many things hanging, and in such a small space. Her eyes took a slow scan of the room, trying to sort herself and what she was looking at. Just... well, just a lot. She could piece together, eventually, what some of the things were. After a moment of orientating herself, Keithia unwrapped herself from the towel and carefully folded it, leaving it next to the door as she had her previous clothes, before she started looking through what there was to look through.

She had no idea what she was looking for, though. Something loose, something that would cover her. That seemed suitable, acceptable, and bearable. In the end, Keithia picked a tunic that was five times too big for her. It draped on her small frame much like a dress, nearly slipping off one shoulder, but it did cover her completely. Hanging to her knees, the fabric flowed around her, with a swooping neckline but it was modest in a way. It was nice enough. Not suffocating, not scratchy, with long sleeves that swallowed her arms whet they hung at her sides.

Once she had pulled it on, Keithia turned to regard Kanimir to see if he would approve.

@HeartOfFlame

He left her to it, dumping his clothes on a small mirror dresser near the door and wandering down one of the rows after spotting a break in the hanging clothes. Sure enough, Tyka, or whoever she had put in charge of keeping the room tidy, had set apart a collection of loose necked, baggy armed shirts, colourful cloaks, decorative belts and several pairs of skin-gripping trousers, as well as other odds and ends that appealed to his taste. He smiled, warmed slightly by the thought of the household caring enough to keep him in mind even with so many of them to feed and clothe and keep out of trouble.

He dressed swiftly, donning a pale blue shirt with a deep neck and laces, the arms hanging slightly around his wrists in absence of his braces - he'd add those later -, and simple brown trousers. He held the outfit together with a wide leather belt, buckled with a plain silver circlet, and returned to the doorway to see how Keithia had faired.

He wasn't particularly surprised to find the nymph had decided on something loose and casual, her feet and legs still bare, and a kindly amused smile pulled his lips as he ran a gaze up and down. He bobbed his head from side to side, disentangling his hair from the collar of his shirt and working the ties off his fingers. "Good enough." He said simply, pulling burgundy strands into a loose ponytail in favour of braiding it at the present moment.

Dumping his towel near the pile of clothes he had already discarded, to be collected and cleaned later, he led the way back out of the large wardrobe-like room and through the halls to the raucous noise the signalled dinner had begun without them. A steady stream of voices and laughter overlapping reached out to greet them as they approached the large dining hall, bright light and warmth reaching out into the slightly dimmer halls, vibrant and lively.

Kanimir turned back to face Keithia, walking backwards briefly, that same smile still etched into his features. "Fair warning, they can be a little overwhelming, even for me. If you feel uncomfortable, you can leave any time you want, no one will be upset."

@SanctifiedSavage

When he didn't seem upset with her choice, she smiled a little. Feeling like she'd picked not only something suitable, but something that was comfortable enough, she moved to follow him. Her hair was still wet, and had made the tunic so, but that didn't bother her. The black strands were all the same length and had, somehow, managed not to get tangled up amongst her antlers. There were a shiny black when wet and were slowly drying straight.

The closer they approached to the steadily rising noise, the slower she walked. Keithia had been around large collections of people before. Some servants ate in one common hall and they could be noisy. Rambunctious. She understood it was their way of being free in an otherwise confined space. Her hesitation wasn't so much the noise, or even that she would be facing strangers, it was just going to be crowded and confined.

Thus far, though, Kanimir and Tyka had been very kind and understanding. She didn't want to repay such actions but being unappreciative. So, when he looked to her with the warning, she simply nodded. Keithia had been stuffed in cages and closets. She could handle a room of people. "I'm fine," she reassured softly.

Kanimir nodded, willing to accept her reassurance and slightly hopeful she would speak up if the crowded dining room made her feel squashed in. With that thought in mind, he stepped into the open doorway of the fully packed room and spread his arms, almost immediately drawing the attention of the room, a dozen or more heads turning to face them.

"What's this, then? Thought you could start without me and eat everything?" He asked, voice raised slightly to be heard at the end of the long, rectangular table they were all seated around. Two places had been left, plates and mugs empty and waiting, at the end of the table nearest to them, and the smile that played on his lips now was genuine warmth and maybe a smidge of love. Just a smidge.

The gathered group laughed, smiles and muted grins wherever he looked, and with a reassuring glance back at Keithia he moved into the room and stepped over the back of the bench seat that ran nearly the entire length of the table to claim the seat nearest the other members of the household, leaving Keithia a little distance and the space of the entranceway if she began to feel crowded.

From directly across the laden table, Tyka spoke up, a spoon in hand as she dished out portions of her signature vegetable stew to the youngsters seated on either side of her. "Of course not, young tyke, we thought you had been gone so long you must have shrivelled to a little old prune in that bath of yours and were feasting to your safe ascension."

Several of those seated within Kanimir's hearing distance snorted in amusement, and he elbowed the nearest ribcage good naturedly, holding out a hand towards the softly smirking Hyoite. "Alright, alright, give me some food woman."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia stepped in after Kanimir and wasn't surprised when she received not a few curious looks. She was new. New people were a curiosity and the bold ones asked her such things like her name, what was she, and where she'd come from. She offered a smile, but it was fake and well practiced, while she took up the remaining seat.

Dutifully, as this had been practiced too, she answered with her name, that she was from the Yoreiq isles, and that she was a nymph. Granted, that wasn't much of an answer to anyone that didn't know of those places or what a nymph was, so she suspected that would be the follow up questions, as that was fairly common too.

All things she'd heard before, things she'd answered before, and it all came to her woodenly. Practiced and rehearsed so she didn't have to think, didn't have to worry, and didn't stumble over her words. The room felt small to her, of course, but it didn't make her want to flee like a frightened deer. People with ill intent usually set her off and there was one of that in the room. Pressing curiosity, but that was fine.  Sometimes invasive, but that didn't rankle her or make Keithia want to leave. She didn't offer any conversation but she willingly answered whatever was asked of her, if she knew the answer.

Some things she just did not know. Where the isles were in relation to where they were. Where she'd been previous to this. Where she would go now. If she would stay and how long. Things of that nature were beyond her and, if she did not know, she offered a small smile and said as much. Ever honest.

She did thank Tyka when her own food was served and ate quietly. Hearty and warm, it was just the sort of thing to end what was quite an odd day for her. What had started as just another awful day had turned into... well, she wasn't sure what to call it. Time would help her decide.

Keithia ate everything in front of her and, when she was done, remained seated because that was the polite thing to do. When it came time to clean up, she would help with that because that, too, was the polite thing to do.

The meal passed in companionable conversation, the ebb and flow of voices keeping steady for the entirety of the meal. Kanimir kept a quiet eye on Keithia, as he was want to do with any new addition during the first introduction to the household in its entirety. He wasn't sure when the group living in the Chateau had gotten so big - Tyka's badly hidden looks of smug knowing were getting a little rankling - but he was aware they could be a little intimidating at times. Not because of aggression or suspicion, but simply because they were all learning and mostly young and curious. They wanted to know things, and sometimes that was painful.

To him, there was little change. They were all used to his spontaneous comings and goings, accepting him back into the fold just as readily now as they ever had, sharing conversation and food alike as thought he had never been gone. It was a strange comfort to know there would always be this strange little...settlement, to return to should he ever find himself in trouble he was not able to extract himself from personally. Not that he worried that would ever be the case. He was smarter than that.

Eventually, the food was gone and the conversation had, and the large group began to disperse, some leaving to perform other chores around the house, others collecting the empty plates and mugs and beginning to bustle out of the room at the opposite end to which he and Keithia had entered, hauling the cutlery back down to the kitchen. Tyka stood and started assisting, but Kanimir quickly rose and leaned across the table to still her hands, meeting her eyes with a boyish smile.

"Let the 'little tyke' help out. I won't be here for long." He offered, the smile turning a little lopsided. She simply regarded him for a moment, stormy eyes crinkling a little at the corners as she released the plate in her hand and settled back down into her chair.

"True. I'd best flog you while I have you."

@SanctifiedSavage

She was set in a sort of automation. These things she knew how to do. Pick up after a meal. Keithia might not know where to go, but she could figure that out by following the others that were likewise cleaning up, so she did just that. There were a couple that were eager to show her what to do and how to do it when they realized she was helping them. The new person.

Her practiced smile remained in place and she did as instructed, helping to clear the table and, eventually, helping to clean the dishes. Things she'd been taught during her time in various households. Such chores were generally universal, she found. It was just a matter of where, and that was easy enough with some observation.

When it was all done, a couple of those she'd been working alongside offered for her to sleep in their room. Wanting to learn more, to talk, so she'd have company, but Keithia ultimately, politely, declined and made her way back to the room where Kanimir and Tyka had remained with a now clean table. She didn't want to impose on whatever conversation they might be having, so she stepped just in the doorway then simply kneeled out of the way. A way to patiently wait without standing and seeming to be, well, impatiently waiting. 

It didn't bother her to do so and, as she knelt, she started to loosely braid her now mostly dry hair.

@HeartOfFlame

It was all done in controlled speed, a Kanimir only making two trips down to the kitchen before being politely shoed out by a middle aged ginger he still remembered wearing wire manacles and barely able to speak. He left them to it, content to return to the dining room and lounge comfortably, seated on the table edge with his heels on the bench seat. Tyka snorted around the smoking pipe she had produced from somewhere in her skirts, but didn't admonish him. He grinned.

They sat in the warm silence, content in each other's company and with nothing needing to be said. They had known each other a long time, Tyka knew him perhaps better than any other he had met throughout his years, and he was comfortable in the knowledge that if anything was bothering her, she would speak of it.

Glancing towards the doorway, and the voices audible beyond, he blew a breath through his cheeks. "Alli's doing well. His hands seemed to have healed nicely."

Tyka didn't move aside from a slight twitch of her eyebrows, eyes closed and soft puffs of smoke escaping her mouth. "Yes. He has grown much more confident. What about Keithia, what will you do with her?"

Blunt as always. Yet, he would hardly have her any other way. He chuffed air, stretching his legs out and running a hand through the softly curled fuzz around his face, now mostly dry. "She's coming with me. Wants to travel."

Tyka made a harrumphing sound, but didn't elaborate, and after a moment, Kanimir looked over towards the door downstairs again, finding the subject of their brief conversation kneeling just inside, braiding her dark hair. He smiled again, almost unconsciously, and stood with a twist of his hips.

"Want to see you room for tonight, Keithia? I'm thinking one with a balcony."


@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia looked up from her hair, having braided it halfway, when her name was said. She didn't move from her kneeling position even though Kanimir had stood. At the mention of a room, she considered a moment. Normally, she would have accepted that and simply went along with whatever was handed to her.

But. That wasn't really how things were done here. The rules were a little different.

The nymph smoothed the tunic over her thighs before she stood and asked, soft and careful, "Would it be a bother if I just slept outside?" She could just sleep on the balcony, but that implied worked stone and wood beneath her. She hadn't slept outside, beneath the open sky, on natural soil in... Well. She couldn't remember the last time. They'd let her linger in the water for hours and pick out clothing that was comfortable, so she thought... maybe he would grant her this, too.

There certainly didn't seem to be any harm in asking. Her face was carefully neutral, mostly because she didn't want to reveal anything should the request be denied for whatever reason. Neither was she getting her hopes up should that be the case. It was just a timid question, a probe of what would be allowed. She wasn't expecting it but it was worth asking, building up on what she'd experienced thus far.

@HeartOfFlame

He blinked at the request, not expecting it, but somehow not surprised either. He glanced briefly at Tyka, who shrugged, and let his brows lift in a so-so sort of expression. "Yea, sure. If you won't get cold."

He rocked back and forwards on his heels a little, digging his toes into the thready carpet underneath their feet. It made sense, he supposed. She had relished the chance to stay in the water and he hadn't missed the way she perked up while they were outside. It was natural for a creature of nature, torn from it, to wish to have the next closest thing. Offering Tyka a briefly raised hand in parting, two fingers curling in a wave of sorts, he turned towards the entrance and smothered a yawn with his other hand.

It had been another long day.

"I'll show you the garden," he offered Keithia without really turning around,"It's not big but it'll be better than sleeping in the courtyard."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia shook her head a little at the spoken concern about her getting cold. It'd have to be... well, really really cold for it to be a discomfort. Thus far, she hadn't experienced such temperature there. Though certainly warmblooded, the nymph's comfort wasn't tied expressly to the external temperature around her but more by her environment. Getting to actually sleep outside was about the best way to end the day.

She didn't know the difference between a garden or a courtyard, but so long as it was outside she didn't really mind. Keithia would've slept in the street if it were a choice between that and a bed. Stone, even the cobble of the road, was preferred over the enclosed space around a bed and oppressive blanket. Keithia wanted to feel the air move over her, the vast sky over her, and some sense of ground beneath her. That was real peace. She'd tolerate the smell of humans around her if it meant she could have those things.

Once they started walking, she murmured a soft, "Thank you. You've been very kind to me."

@HeartOfFlame

A thank you for being kind. Kanimir huffed a silent laugh, head shaking from side to side slightly in amusement. The world was truly strange. While he was certainly not bothered by the things he had done in his lifetime, there were definitely those who would take great offence to anyone implying that he knew kindness. And they'd probably be right; he didn't do it to be kind, he did it because...well,  he hadn't precisely figured out the why, but he had a feeling part of it was because it wasn't what people expected.

All the people he had 'shown kindness' too seemed to think of him as some kind of savour, a good man who wanted to do right by them. He didn't like to disappoint them - maybe that meant he was a slightly good man - but the truth he had come to believe was far more simple and far more shallow.

He shook off the thoughts, finding his mind had wandered and they were already back on the ground floor at the rear of the house. A single door led to the outside here, and he pushed it open with a quick glance at Keithia. As he had said, the garden was not large, barely twenty meters square, but it was green and colourful and had a decorative fountain in the middle. The place had been left to run a little wild, a path trodden through the grass and stretching flower bushes, leaves from the spreading trees covering the ground. He smiled. It looked just right for a nature nymph.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia followed him through the house, idly looking around so she could orientate herself should she need to walk through it. It was almost habit, now. Memorizing hallways and oppressive spaces. She was reasonably certain she could get back to the entry hall, the kitchen, and the bathing room. Definitely the bathing room.

Once he had opened the door, she peered around him to see what might be beyond. There was still the faint scent of the city, but it wasn't as oppressive. Rather, it was just over the sweet scent of flowers, shrubs, grasses, and some trees. Keithia actually made a small squeal of delight and dashed past him. She'd seen garden. Containered plants, cobbled pathways, trimmed bushes and flowered vines woven into ornate metal works. But this?

This was lovely. Untamed and fresh, green and vivid. It didn't even occur to Keithia to say anything to Kanimir because she was just gone. Wanting to feel the grass beneath her feet, leaves under her hands, and lose herself, if only for a little while, in something that wasn't manmade.

She'd spend the rest of the night idly wandering the small space, acquainting herself with the plants there, and eventually finding a tucked away place to curl up and go to sleep.

@HeartOfFlame

She slipped past him into the overgrown garden with a sound of delight, the first sound he had heard from her that was not controlled, or slightly muted. He felt suddenly glad the garden had been let go, the fact it brought joy to the displaced nymph somehow enough to make him unbothered by the vines creeping closer to the door, bushes spreading their leaves up the stones walls of the Chateau. Keithia was lost in the comfort of the wilderness, and he stepped back into the house with a soft smile.

Satisfied that all was well within the household, Kanimir set his sights on rest for himself, an air of tiredness dogging his steps as he moved back upstairs and wandered through the halls to his own room. It was kept free of dust and cobwebs, a few candles burning on the nightstand already, and he didn't bother removing his clothing before falling into it, relaxing in the soft mattress and leaning over to blow out the softly glowing candles. Darkness descended, and he let it claim him wholly.

He slept easily, flickering images dancing behind his lids in fragments throughout the night, and woke to the sun in his face and sheets askew around him. His hair had escaped from its ponytail some time in the night, and he brushed it back out of his face as he sat up and smothered a yawn. The curtains and windows were both still open from the night before, and the scent of the city in early morning was carried in on the cold air. He wrinkled his nose, running a hand over his crumpled shirt idly, and squinted into the sun.

Keithia. Right. She was probably still in the garden. A smile pulled at his dry lips at the thought of the nymph, her sweet innocence somehow warming, even just thinking of it. There was something about her that made him want to smile, and not in the usual, mischievous way, or the sinister, toothy smile he had perfected for giving his clients shivers. She was different, maybe because she was inhuman, maybe something more. It didn't really matter, he had agreed to let her travel with her and so would have plenty of time to figure her out on the road. He snorted idly at the thought, remembering his thoughts from the day before.

'I hate puzzles' Well. Most of them, anyway.

Vaguely amused by his own fickle manner, he pushed himself off the soft, warm mattress and went about finding his boots. Unsurprisingly, they were tucked just inside the door, along with the clothes he had discarded in the Outfit Room the evening before. Smiling faintly in appreciation of Tyka - he knew it was her, it always was - he slipped his footwear on and tied his braces over the baggy sleeves of his shirt. Mostly put together, he headed for the garden to find his wayward nymph, tying the loose hair around his left cheek into its signature braid as he walked, the longer strands swaying behind his back with every step.

@SanctifiedSavage

It hadn't taken long for Keithia to find a place to rest. It was more she'd just wanted to explore and see it all before she eventually settled down. Eventually, the nymph had found a place amongst long stemmed flowers and overgrown shrubs that shaded her from the city. The smell of the night blossoms chased away the city and the grass was soft beneath her.

It wasn't cold at all.

She curled up on her side, head pillowed by one arm, and simply slept. Her hair, slick and black, didn't snag or tangle in the brush but fanned out and scattered around her. Like inky webbing that led to her small, pale form. Because she was shaded from the morning sun, she didn't wake as it rose. The chirping of birds and play of late rousing insects were a lullaby to her, keeping her in sweet sleep.

She'd discarded the tunic before she'd fallen asleep, not wishing to have any barrier between her and the rest of the garden. As she had with all the other clothes she'd taken off, she'd neatly folded it and left it by the door. Out there, she'd not seen the need for it and she'd certainly slept better without it.

@HeartOfFlame

The garden smelt of damp leaves and grass, the smell of bark and tree blossoms washing over him as soon as he opened the creaking door out into the overgrown area. He took a breath, breathing in the smell of the outdoors, slightly amazed by how much it felt like the world outside, like a piece of the wilderness thrown into the middle of the city. It was....nice. He could see why Keithia had been so happy to find it. Speaking of the nymph...

He wandered for a bit before he found her, trailing his fingertips over the tops of the plants and sweeping leaves aside with his boots, plucking a half grown berry from one of the bushes and watching it disintegrate in his palm with a single, tiny spark of Rivening. His eyes spied the tunic she had chosen to wear the evening before through the cracks in his fingers, the tiny pile of ashes falling into the breeze as he dropped his hand and stepped forwards, suppressing a chuckle as his eyes fell on Keithia in her entirety.

She looked peaceful, curled up in the grass, her bare body pressed to the earth and her hair spread out around her in thin weaves. He approached quietly, not wanting to startle her, and crouched low over his heels, hands resting on his knees. The innocence he had sensed in her voice and eyes the night before was fully displayed in her sleep, her features smoothed into a look of sweet bliss. He almost felt guilty to wake her - almost - but he wanted to be on the road before the sun had finished rising, and she had seemed sincere in her wish to accompany him.

He lifted a hand to rest over her shoulder, her skin warm beneath his bare pale, and squeezed gently, rocking back a step to give her a little more space when she awoke.

"Keithia."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia woke instantly, but not startled. Rather, her gray eyes opened and were immediately on him. There wasn't a real transition between asleep and not for her. She sat up, stretched some, and idly gathered up her hair while she noted the time.

Early morning.

Given that Kanimir was fully dressed, she supposed that meant they would be leaving. Rather than ask, the nymph simply stood and started to idly braid her long, slightly damp hair. She slowly, reluctantly picked her way through the garden. Fingers brushing along leaves is quiet touches of good bye before she reached the tunic she'd worn before.

"I hope you slept well," she said while pulling it on, mindful of her small antlers while she did. Another reason she liked the tunic. The wide neckline made it easy to pull over her head. She stretched once more, looking out over he garden once more with a faint sigh, before turning her attention to him with a small smile. "We will be leaving, hm?"

There he went again, smiling just because she turned that soft grey gaze on him. There was so much innocence in her. It should have irked him, rankled with his chaotic nature, but it didn't. He didn't know how he felt about that, but he brushed it aside for now. A problem for another time.

Standing, he followed a few steps behind as she crossed the garden, glancing up through the stretching branches of the trees, squinting as sunlight played across his face. It really was lovely out here. He'd have to mention something to Tyka about letting it grow, though he had a feeling she already was. Living a life on the tundras of Hyoite had taught her to cherish what nature could be found, and living in the city, caring for a household of rambunctious, troublesome riff raff didn't allow her much time to find her own sanctuary.

He lifted one shoulder in that same shrug to Keithia's words, stretching one arm behind his head, listening to the joints pop. "Yea, once we've eaten. I want to get out of the city before it wakes up." He affirmed.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia watched him as the stood just in front of the door. She was reluctant to leave the garden, to go inside, but they would need to. She couldn't very well live in the garden. It was lovely, and she'd quite enjoyed staying in it, but there was still the city. The walls.

Of all the places she'd been since leaving her home, it'd been the best. If, after traveling with Kanimir for a time, she found no where else to go, she would ask to stay in the garden.

What she really wanted, though, what she hoped to find, was a place with no walls. Where there wasn't the lingering press of humans everywhere, a place where her life wasn't always threatened, and she could be comfortable. It seemed like a lot of wants, and they were quite major...

So. Traveling would have to do it. "I'm ready whenever you are," she said before turning to open the door. Keithia didn't want to follow him, to seem like she wasn't ready. The nymph could learn, she could put herself in uncomfortable places, and she was going to try really hard to not get in the way. Just like she said when she'd asked to leave with him to begin with.

Her memory served her well and she found her way through the house and toward the kitchen and dining room.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir was happy to let her lead, wandering behind at his own pace and smiling a little at the display of confidence. She certainly did not want to appear weak, not that he would have imagined the lone survivor of a - basically - massacre to be in the first place. He could appreciate that, would encourage it too.

The majority of the household was still in slumber at this hour, the rooms that had been bustling with life and light the evening before decidedly quiet. Still, the smell of fresh bread and something vegetable-y wafted up from the kitchen and Kanimir took a deep inhale as they walked in, closing his eyes for a moment to savour the scent. Alli was bustling around the kitchen area, the furnace glowing red hot at the far end of the long room, and several pans of fresh bread were airing on a rack near the windows, while a large pot bubbled over the open fire.

"Oh!" The young man exclaimed, Kanimir's purposely heavy footfalls drawing his attention as soon as they entered. He flustered for a moment, a bread pan gripped between his two mittened hands, looking for a place to put it down. "Good morning Miss Keithia, Master Kanimir."

Kanimir smiled, waving a hand airily and leaning his hip against the counter Alli had scattered the utensils for his morning cooking over. "To you as well, Alli. Though, I'm sure I've told you before, just Kanimir is fine."

Any other house felt much the same to her, when it came to feeling cramped and uncomfortable, but it was something she could live with and easily tolerate. It was all just a manner of preference. While it was considerably quieter, that didn't change her feelings about it so much as make it just that – quieter. Abstractly, Keithia could recognize that there was an affection between the people here. For Kanimir.

She'd seen such things before too. Between the various servant groups in other households and other families she'd encountered. Could see when others cared for one another and the things they did to show it. There was a small bit of envy, a small part of her that missed her sisters. It wasn't painful to observe, it was only something she knew she'd lost... and could not get back.

It was only if she recalled the memory of their death that it became painful. Thinking of them alive, and the time they shared together, was sweet.

"Good morning," she echoed softly before moving to pick up a towel and taking the pan from him, setting it down in a cleared off space. It only seemed like the right thing to do. Keithia's general response when people became flustered was to do whatever she could to unfluster them, or help them. When they seemed nice, anyway.

@HeartOfFlame

Alli blinked slightly as Keithia took the pan from him, turning after it before his brain caught up with his body and his mouth moved in a small 'oh'. "Thank you, Miss Keithia." He stammered softly, folding his hands together before his chest.

Kanimir had to smile at the change he could see in the kid, where once he had been little but a bundling ball of nerves and fear, now he seemed much more confident in himself, even in the present moment of uncertainty. Once upon a time, he would not have had the courage to even be cooking in the large kitchen by himself, let alone interact with Kanimir and another stranger without hyperventilating. He dropped a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed slightly, flashing that smile in his direction and watching a little of the tension drain from him.

"We'll just be grabbing something to eat and then heading out, Alli." He explained, inhaling the scent of the freshly baked goods and feeling his stomach grumble. Rather than looking crestfallen, as might have been the case a few months ago, Alli simply smiled a surprisingly wise, accepting, smile.

"Of course, Ma- Kanimir. Help yourself to the kitchen, please."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia nodded a little at the mortal she'd helped, acknowledging that he'd said both her name and that he'd thanked her. Once she'd placed the pan, she'd simply stepped off to the side and watched the brief interaction between them. She didn't know what the plan was, but neither was Keithia in a rush.

At the invitation to help themselves, Keithia glanced idly around to see if there was something she might want to eat. Always preferring things that were fresh and raw. She pattered, bare foot, over to a bowl of fruit that had yet to be cut for the day and selected two apples and a pear. Seemingly content with that, she moved in a place that was out of the way and started eating one of the apples.

Her gray eyes tracked Kanimir's movements, quietly watching and waiting for him. She didn't know if he wanted to stay in the kitchen or if they should go to the table or... Well, she had no idea what starting a journey entailed, so she was patiently waiting. Eating an apple.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir simply nodded to Alli's words, crossing to the opposite side of the room and lifting the small satchel from a hook on the wall. It was roughly as wide as his waist and would hang to his hips when hooked diagonally over his shoulder, and had clearly seen a lot of use over the years of its life, patches of mismatched fabric and stitching visible on its surface. Bag in hand, he proceeded to procure a few loaves of older, more hardened bread from the shelves opposite the furnace, as well as one of the fresher loaves. With this, he added a jar of flour, a few different jars of seasonings and spices, a small bottle of cooking oil, and a packet of dried vegetables. Anything else he could procure on the road or by hunting, so he turned away from the pantry and looked Keithia over for a moment.

Most likely, she would eat whatever was put in front of her, as she had so far, but if her current 'meal' was anything to go by, she preferred fruit, fresh and clean. That in mind, he selected a few miscellaneous fruits from the same bowl she had collected her breakfast, testing them all for softness and, when he was done, closing the now relatively full bag and placing it on the kitchen table. Supplies for the road acquired, he turned back to the pantry and grabbed what was left of a small bread roll; spiced and with a thin dusting of something sweet and crunchy over the top.

Breadroll stuffed unceremoniously in his mouth and satchel hooked back over his shoulder, Kanimir grunted in Keithia's direction and jerked his head towards the stairs. Offering Alli, who had eventually carried on with his baking, a loose wave with his free hand before using it to pull at the bread roll, he ascended back up the stairs into the dining room, plodding back through the halls to the Outfit Room as he chewed laboriously on the dry bread.

A few spare clothes for both himself and Keithia, a quick check of his weapons to ensure their condition after his last night's work, and they'd be able to hit the road.

@SanctifiedSavage

Her wide, charcoal gray eyes took in everything he was doing while she quietly consumed the apple. It was like creating a small check list. Food, first. A meal before they left. Things that might be obvious to someone who had been on a plethora of journeys before, but were not so to someone who had never willingly left their home before.

She could reason that eating before they left made sense, but not necessarily bringing food. Nature had always provided for her and she had no idea what the outside world was like. Perhaps food would be scarce? That was her assumption given he was packing so much.

Keithia finished the entirety of the apple, core and all, and started on her next as they approached the claustrophobic room full of hanging clothes. She stood just inside the doorway, tracking Kanimir until she realized she would need a change or so of clothes.

Unfortunately.

With a small sigh, Keithia wandered over to where she'd find the one she was wearing in the hopes she'd find something similar. Given that it was such a mundane shirt and style, she was able to and presented him with two more. They weren't as big as the one she was wearing,  but they were still long. Meant to be tucked in, but they'd serve as a dress on someone as short as she was.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir moved with quick efficiency, striding through the rows of clothing to select a few shirts like what he was already wearing, trousers, and a spare cloak. He stuffed all of the items into another bag he had collected on his way through the door, pausing as he turned to return to Keithia and pulling another, dark brown cloak off the rack. It was an earthy colour, only slightly darker than his skin. Keithia might need it, depending where and when their travels took them.

Returning to the entranceway, he had to smother a chuckle as he saw the nymph holding up a pair of tunics alike to what she wore, more dresses than shirts on her small frame. He held out the bag he carried, letting her tuck them in with the other clothes, before tying it shut and hanging it off the opposite shoulder as his other bag, positioned to fall behind his back rather than across his hip. Their supplies set, he reached for the circular holster strapped to his lower back, unbuckling the simple cinch with a deft movement of his fingers and drawing the silver disc from it.

(https://cdn.weasyl.com/~deadlydaffodil/submissions/1698255/90b4f9b1d53576e057ad6dad8314e140f4b7fac1be2ff72b4b88f5f5c7f7bed9/deadlydaffodil-chakram.jpg)

His Chakram caught the light, sunshine reflecting off the polished silver metal and throwing reflections on the walls around them. A smile pulled at his lips, something warm and fuzzy in his chest at the sight of the trusty blade. It, more than any sentient being, had been his trusted companion and confidante almost since he left La'Marri. It, he could trust not to let him down. With vigilant care and a little love, it never would.

Ignorant of how it might appear to the innocent nymph at his side, he held the weapon up, letting the light catch it at different angles, and ran a feather light touch over its edge, searching for scratches, nicks or bends in the smooth metal. It was flawless, the circular blade as smooth as the golden grip beneath his palm, and he slid it effortlessly back into its holster and clipped the cinch, turning his gaze to Keithia.

"Ready to go?" Most likely a redundant question, but some small sliver of the manners his father had taught him still held on these thirty decades later.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia watched him shove more things in the bag, idly wondering if she should have her own. The nymph didn't want him carrying things that were specifically meant for her if she could carry her own – but she also didn't want to ask for something to carry them in if it was easier to bring one bag.

She'd have to see how it went and maybe she could carry it sometimes. Share the load, as it were. With her second apple gone while he was picking up the last of his things, she idly licked her fingers clean while he studied some weird metal circle... thing. Keithia didn't have much frame of reference for what it was, only that it seemed important.

Not wanting to bother Kanimir while he did so, she didn't ask. Just watched. The whole point of this was to be as unobtrusive as possible not pester him with every thought that popped into her mind. When he asked if she was ready to go, Keithia nodded as she took a bit of the pear. The where didn't matter to her. One destination was as good as any other right now. Knowing nothing, she literally had no opinion. Even if he were to describe a place, she only had two points of reference.

Well, three now. Her home, this city, and his house. Unless he was going to start comparing things to her time during captivity, being hauled away from her home to the city. Most of which she'd spent bound and blindfolded.

So, new experiences to create new references would be the best course of action. She offered Kanimir a small smile, to appear encouraged. It didn't match her dark gray eyes and didn't linger, but the nymph was excited to go, even if she was also a little anxious. She was placing an tremendous amount of trust in a person she'd only known for a day – but he'd also freed her. It wouldn't follow that he'd only do so to sell her off again.

At least, that wasn't the feeling she got from his home, either.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir moved back through the house with the ease of someone who knew the layout well, walking at a leisurely pace that was somehow still brisk. A few members of the household were beginning to rise, passing them in the hallway, and he made sure to offer each a brief wave or word of greeting. They were used to him coming and going like this, little more than a shadow some days, flitting in and out in the space of an hour, or alternatively staying for a week or more. By now, they were used to it, and yet they still greeted him just as warmly when next he returned.

A smile playing on his lips, he stepped out into the courtyard, squinting as the sun, now risen above the city skyline, shone in his eyes, bright and bold. Lifting the hood of his cloak and hefting the straps of the criss-crossed packs over his shoulders, he started walking, the soft patter of Keithia's footsteps just a foot behind.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, though he had heard things about a developing situation in Adela between a few high lords. Could be a source for his more exotic work. But there was always a call for mercenaries, be it as a bodyguard, turf war soldier, or some other mockery of a decent cause. Perhaps, it would be better to start with something like that. He did have a companion to consider now, and as much as he told himself he didn't care, never had, there was something in him that was reluctant to expose Keithia, sweet and innocent as she was, to the true world he lived in.

For now, he just wanted to get out of Connloath. Technically, both of them were magic users, and the state of things for mages of any description had hardly improved in the last ten years. If anything, it had gotten worse. So; to get out of Uthlyn, then cut through the Sirantil Valley and cross the border through the mountains.

Simple.

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia followed him dutifully, her eyes trained on him. Not because she thought she might lose him, but because the house itself held no interest to her. One mortal home was much the same to her and, since they were leaving, she didn't see the point in attempting to remember any more of the layout. If, or when, they returned that would be something she'd worked on then.

The nymph was more of a in the moment girl.

As they stepped out into the courtyard, Keithia stood just off to his side. A step behind him. She finished her pear, stem, seeds, and all. She peered around, as though hoping to find they were just somewhere else. But no. The city was beyond.

She quietly licked her hands clean of the fruit juice while she pattered after him. Her attention remained on Kanimir, now more so in the hopes no one else would look at her. Trusting him to take her wherever. Some place better than the city.

@HeartOfFlame

The streets were still mostly empty at this early hour, and Kanimir moved with confidence through the relative maze of Uthlyn's middle district. He glanced back every so often to ensure Keithia was keeping pace, but it was more out of reflex than an actual worry she would not be able to keep up. Something told him she was tougher than she appeared.

They moved through the city easily, little to bar their way, and were nearing the gates by the time people began to fill the streets. A soft noise of annoyance escaped Kanimir then, as they neared the exit from the city and the noise of the mob of comers and goers that seemed to congregate around the gates hit his ears. A frown pulled at his features as well; apparently they had missed the window of opportunity for a clean getaway.

Resigned to their fate but still determined to get out at that moment, rather than wait for the mob to thin, he sucked back a step and stretched out his hand to Keithia, looking back to meet her gaze with his own solid one. "Take my hand, and don't let go till we're out." He said simply, before stepping out of the side street they had been travelling on and moving into the crush of moving bodies.

At the very least, the crowd made it easy to slip through unnoticed, the pair of them blending in as nothing more than a pair of travellers going on their way. Which, at this point, they were. But, Kanimir hadn't gotten this far in life, in this line of work, by being reckless. It was a slow grind, pushing through the sea of bodies and smells and the occasional traders' wagon, the itch to just Riven them all racing beneath his skin more than once, but eventually, finally, they emerged in the open air of the Sirantil Valley. Paths and roadways stretched out before them, a dozen different directions converging on the gates, while in the distance forests rose up from the valley of green and brown and, beyond that, mountains poked their heads towards the horizon.

Kanimir breathed in deeply, letting his eyes close briefly and inhaling the clean air.

"Welcome back to the outdoors."

@SanctifiedSavage

Keithia wasn't excited to get into the press of people. It reminded her too much of the travel in the slavers wagon, pressed up against so many bodies. No room to move, the overwhelming smell of... of well, everything. Surrounded by people drenched in fear and sweat and unable to relieve themselves for the entire journey anywhere besides where they were.

It'd been a nightmare.

Much like all the other terrible things in Keithia's past, though, it only resurfaced if she thought about it. So, promptly, she focused on what was happening now. On the feel of Kanimir's hand wrapped around her own and how best to navigate the crowd without getting her feet stepped on. It still happened, but that was a nice way of keeping her from dwelling too much on anything.

Her free hand lifted to try and keep her antlers from snagging on anything or clipping anyone. That still happened too. Every time she bumped someone, the snapped at her and Keithia winced. Not because their voice bothered her or that she was sorry, but because the antlers were sensitive and it hurt her when it happened. Not enough she couldn't go on, but it was a stinging pain through the top of her head.

By the time they were out of the crowd and beyond the gate, there was a headache blossoming along the top of her skull and she gingerly rubbed at the top of her head, between her antlers. She missed the first part of their freedom, the thinning of the people just outside the gate and the eventually branching of the road out into the valley beyond. It wasn't until he expressly said something that Keithia slow blinked to take it all in.

Something beyond the city, where she wasn't in shackles. Chained up. Confined.

The rank of the city still swelled and pressed at her back, but it was still nice to see space beyond. To have the world open up before her. Compared to how oppressive the city had been since she'd been in it – rooms, cages – this was... Keithia rubbed at her eyes and smiled, glancing at Kanimir. A sky with no buildings to block it, a horizon with no structure to obscure it.

Keithia wasn't sure she'd see it again and hadn't realized how much she'd missed it. It was an effort not to run from him then and just lose herself. That'd probably result in her being caught again. The nymph needed to be smart now that she was in a human country, but even so... It was nice. Beyond that, lovely.

@HeartOfFlame

Kanimir returned her smile with one of his own, the look of pure joy on her face at being back in the freedom of the open world somewhat infectious. He hooked his thumbs under the criss-crossed straps across his shoulders and hiked the bags they held slightly higher on his frame, before sweeping one arm out towards the path they would follow to reach the border.

"Shall we?"

@SanctifiedSavage

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