There’s movement between them that catches her lonely attention. The soft, gentle shake of his head. She suddenly wishes she could hear what he has to say, what he’s thinking as he looks upon her with his dark eyes. Suddenly, he’s moving toward her, aiming for her in that same gentle grace she admired from the start. The way he seems to move like ink through water despite the extremely long length of his dark legs. She doesn’t move away from him, instead her icy hued eyes, glacial in their way of watching him move, stay glued to him – her legs a heavy burden that keeps her rooted in place.
His touch is soft, smooth against her taught and scarred skin. Yet she doesn’t move, instead she feels her eyes widen slightly in curiosity. And that’s when he notices that X marking that was brutally etched into the side of her chest, watching it as it slowly oozes more greenish teal goo down her chest. The pain died long ago, but the frustration and anger remain, a sharp edged blade on her mind every time she remembers it was there. His eyes lift to meet hers and his ears flick forward curiously, and she finds herself feeling somewhat better than before about asking him too personal questions. She didn’t have hardly the qualms, as these questions didn’t relate to those that had abandoned her here.
“There were amulets in Helovia. I had one of Kisamoa’s, who’s from here. And when I came through the Portal, it burst leaving behind this marking.” She offered as an explanation, her voice soft and somewhat nostalgic as she thought back to that time, avoiding the saddest part of her life the best she could. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, but it won’t heal and consistently drips this glowing liquid.” She added in, hoping it might ooze some of the concern across his face.
Then, she hums quietly as a smile tilts the corners of her pink hued lips up. “Hopefully nothing as bad as that happened to you when you crossed through.” She offered thoughtfully, trying to lighten the mood the best she could. But she was never particularly good at it.
He listens raptly to her explanation: ears forward, eyes soft. Some kind of peace has fallen over them, settled between them. Here in their island amidst the rain. It is still a constant music outside: the chatter of many cold voices meeting the rocks. But Seiji's eyes are on the wound; his ears focus not on the rain but the soft sound of her voice. She speaks a name, one he doesn't know, and his head tilts enquiringly. Kisamoa? A god of some sort? Or an alchemist? He wonders if he ought to find this Kisamoa. Ask it what it knows....
But his eyes study the wound again. An ugly thing. An evil thing. He feels a surge of dislike for this Kisamoa, whoever it is. Either a cruel man or a very careless man. He wonders if he would be able to remain polite, should he encounter it. Possibly. But glancing up at Kiada's face, thinking of how lonely she sounded speaking about her family, he thinks: possibly not. He feels he ought to say something, do something cheerful, but he isn't sure what. Outside, the rain continues to fall.
Then she says something else, and Seiji's ears twitch. A kind of surprise falling over his face. Me? He shakes his head. No, no! The Rift has done nothing to him; it has been maddeningly kind thus far. Kind, and yet it continues to hide from him the only thing he came seeking. The thing it took... He wishes for what feels the thousandth time he could explain some piece of it. He would feel better, telling someone. Even admitting his own mistakes. He had never sought to hide them; everyone knows what became of him. Well — what happened.
Perhaps they think he died.
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Shakes his head. He isn't sure it communicates anything other than his current condition, though he wishes to let her know he was speechless before he came here. It is here..... It is here he hopes to rectify the fact. But she probably shouldn't know that, should she?
The plinking of rain along the stones and earth around them in solemn, and it isn’t something Kiada dislikes. In fact, she finds it somewhat calming despite the array of emotions she has felt in such a little amount of time. Quietly, she studies Seiji, the markings on his spine, his long lengthy, inky body, and the silence that overcomes them. Not awkward, never really was awkward despite the fact he couldn’t speak. It was calming, to only have the silence broken by whatever things she had to say. Perhaps it helped, her speaking to him and understanding him the best she could – perhaps it did nothing to lighten his mood. Regardless, she figured if he got enough of it and grew weary of their endeavor, he would leave.
But he remained, curiously studying her glowing wound before acknowledging what she questioned about his travel through the Portal. His ears twitch first, followed by his head shaking and she offers him a kind smile. “Then that’s good at least.” She offers him gently, shrugging slightly and looking out over the land, away from him, wondering just how much his silence would allow for her to confide in him. For there was something intriguing about telling her secrets to a man who couldn’t speak, but one that might get their voice back would be something she had to count on. Perhaps another time, when she knew him better. Perhaps never.
He opens his mouth and closes it, shaking his head too. Kiada can’t understand what he’s getting at, but she tries to make it seem as though she does, her dark face growing thoughtful despite the water that drips from her crescent shaped horn onto her face. “Perhaps it is something you can get back here.” She begins, swiveling to face him briefly. “Ask the Rift, perhaps something will come of it? You don’t have to voice it, per say. Maybe wishing for it enough will cause it to happen.” She ponders, weighing the options and laying them out for him. A chance to try and fix what he appears to want so badly.
But then, she flicks her tail idly and lowers her head to him slightly. “Forgive me, though, I must be off to find a place for that plant and get some much needed rest. Find me if you need anything, just look for Khairi.” She offered as much as she could, wishing she could say his name to make it stick, but she doesn’t know his name and would rather keep her good intentions. Her eyes soften as she looks at him one last time before turning and heading back toward the plant she had found, preparing to find a place to rest.
He is (of course) silent as he listens to her speak. "Perhaps it is something you can get back here." If only she knew! But Seiji blinks at her politely, revealing nothing. Only (perhaps) a little somber. I know, he wants to say. But his is not a conqueror's heart. He continues to listen to her explanation, though he doubts it. A fragile smile crossing his features: if only. But Seiji doesn't believe her. He knows exactly what he must do.
Nonetheless, he nods, as if to say: I'll think about it! Though he does not intend to, really. He is caught up in all he decided before. He is thinking, planning, so that when she bids him farewell he is caught by surprise.
Seiji glances up, blinking. Ah, but they've been speaking a while, haven't they? He ought not keep her from her duties, whatever those are. He smiles, a little embarrassed, and nods again. Maybe they will meet again — should he not look forward to it? He does, anyway, for he considers now Kiada a friend, and would like to see her again before he goes. He watches as she moves away, out past the overhang and back into the weather, her hoof beats fading.
As for himself, Seiji remains put. His dark eyes linger on the shadows of the rain outside, the music of it. He thinks of another time, long ago, when he stood inside and watched it fall.
Halyven
