View source for Meeting Honored Kin

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==Log Info==

*Title: Meeting Honored Kin

*Emitter: Zeke

*Characters: [[Cuemoni]], [[Seldan]], [[Zeke]]

*Place: Temple of Eluna</div>

The scent of nervous sith-makar wafts around Zeke as he leads his fellow sith through the various halls of the Temple of Eluna where he knows his kin is resting. He has - contrary to his usual - offered the female his flesh-and-blood claw, and her presence settles him somewhat. "Ssssa. Ssseldan issss ssstill recovering sssome-what thisss one thinksss." He explains to her in short. Not explaining how Seldan had gotten injured, or where. "Thisss one wasss hoping to introduce you two while he isss here in the scity how-ever."

He makes one last turn and hesitates in front of one particular door. His crystal claw touching his robes as though they need soothing (they don't), very much like he is expecting to meet ''her'' kin rather than the other way around. "Are you ready?"

Cuemoni can understand the nervous scent. In truth, she's certain she gives off her own, but her stance is like that of a more expectant, open sort, like the water that quenches the flames that she so often works with. But she has picked an outfit appropriate for the day and the occasion, something nicer than the handcrafted armor she typically wears. An open shawl of blue silk, with lovingly painted designs that are similar like close cousins to the red symbols painted on her turquoise scales, hangs over a loose dress of white wool that has been embroidered with red thread in designs and motifs traditional of Am'shere. It allows her tail plenty of room to breathe and doesn't restrict her movements in any manner.

Her claw is around Zeke's so gently, so affectionately. "This one is honored to meet your kin, Zeke," she says. "Although this one is sorry to hear your kin is injured."

She offers him a small, reassuring little gesture of the head, a scent to accompany it. "This one is ready. All will be well." Of course, she's nervous, too, but they're nervous together, at least.

The door in question is deep within the Temple, and there are many like it - whoever this is, it is no one of particular station or importance. Indeed, when the door opens, it does so into a small cell, such as any priest might be given. A cot, a writing desk and chair, and a small wardrobe, all of ordinary and even rough make, are all that this room would normally hold. It is clear that they are expected, for the smell of a tea of which Zeke is particularly fond wafts from inside the room, and entering reveals that a couple of stools have been brought in. Notably not chairs, but stools such as the makari tend to favor in human lands. It also boasts an armor rack, and a complex-looking bow and a small pack are hung by hooks on the wall. The teapot and several cups sit on the cot's nightstand. 

The strangest thing about it is that the door appears to open without assistance of any kind, and its lone occupant sits in the chair at the writer's desk, on which lies a quill, a bottle of ink, and several scrolls, all of which have writing on them. He himself is a - human? How is it that a makari is kin to a human? But human he most certainly is, with bright, fiery-gold hair and pale blue eyes. A shirt and trousers, of ordinary-enough make, and boots such as any adventurer might wear, but over it rests an open-front robe more appropriate to a mage, blue velvet with silver traceries of celestial creatures adorning it.

The door opens without any need of knocking and Zeke realizes that they must have been loud enough to be heard within. He ducks his head in embarrassment, but moves forward. Lured by the sight of his kin and the smell of that so-familiar tea. "Peasssce on your nessst Sseldan." He offers the words warmly and draws Cuemoni in behind him.

"How are you feeling kin?" He inquires this more gently, clarifying that indeed this human ''is'' his kin. However strange that might be. Zeke hesitates a moment before continuing. "Thisss one wissshess to introduce you. Ssseldan, thissss isss Cuemoni. Cuemoni, thisss one isss pleasssed to introduce you to Ssseldan, thisss onesss only kin."

Cuemoni's golden eyes nictate when she looks over Seldan upon entry and moving into the room. It's a slow, thoughtful thing, like a cat's slow blink. The tea is a comforting smell in of itself; she knows Zeke loves his tea, and she loves sharing meals with him. It is no wonder that kin would have tea waiting for him.

Still holding onto Zeke's scaled hand, she bows and spreads her unoccuied arm out in a reverent greeting before Seldan, the red symbols painted onto her scales all the more evident with her lowered head. "This one is overjoyed to meet Zeke's beloved and honored kin," she says, head still bowed. Her tone is that of a supplicant, as though she were entreating a spirit she has no established relationship with. "This one expresses condolences for your wounds and offers words of comfort for them in the hopes of a quick and complete recovery."

Finally she lifts her head, golden eyes meeting Seldan's eyes. "This one is Zeke's companion." There is pride in that fact, a subtle thing but undeniably present. "But this one will always acknowledge kin as a powerful bond. This one looks to Zeke's honored kin as this one's own honored kin." Her tail gives a light thump on the floor, a small emphasis for that statement.

The moment the second one enters the room, the blue eyes sharpen, and Seldan sits up straight, then rises at once to greet them both. "Peace upon your nests, Zeke - and your companion," he greets politely, his light tones holding a distinct accent that a well-traveled sith-makar might recognize as teh lilt of the Myrrish. "Cuemoni," he pronounces the name carefully, but rather than accepting the supplicant-to-spirit relationship that the woman seeks to establish, he bows politely from the waist. 

"Your words are kind, and I find myself much improved, thank you." Indeed, to the sharp eyes of a healer, he does seem to be physically improved, rested and hale, steady and even like he always is. "The tea should still be warm, kin, do you desire. Come, I would hear more of your tale." He gestures to the stools, and to the tea on its tray on the cot.

Zeke rumbles a low sound that's clearly pleased. Green eyes flicker over Seldan as if to reassure himself that Seldan is indeed well before he releases Cuemoni and moves toward the tea. It's his weak spot really. He scents the air near the tea pot out of habit and pleasure at the familiar herbs that Seldan has chosen. Zeke pours out the tea himself, for Cuemoni, for Seldan, and for himself.

He offers the first cup to the paladin to give Cuemoni a moment to situate herself before offering the second cup to her. Then he takes up the last for himself and sits - slowly - down on the stool with a soft pleased sigh. The tea is a perfect temperature for drinking, so he takes a sip and lets his tail flicker behind him betraying his pleasure that the two seem to be getting along well so far. "There isss little to tell." He admits easily, his eyes fond as they take in Cuemoni. "Thisss one met Cuemoni sssome time ago, and... again and again."

He ducks his head a little. "Thisss one esssscorted her to the Flower Fessstival. Ssshe hasss been teaching thisss one sssome of the waysss of her tribe. Ssshe isss a ssskilled ssshaman." It's clear to anyone that knows Zeke that he is quickly growing very, very fond of the female at his side.

Cuemoni takes one of the stools that Seldan gestures to, clearly taking in the hospitality that Seldan offers. She takes the teacup given to her by Zeke with a pleased tail-flick and a soft, 'this one thanks you' to Zeke.

"This one met Zeke after arriving from Am'shere," Cuemoni says. "This one is of... a dwindling tribe in Am'shere, called the Xiuhcoatl tribe, in honor of the great spirit that protects the tribe. This one's tribe was once protected by the spirit from volcanic eruption, and since that day, those who belong to the people have honored Xiuhcoatl. The people know that they have Xiuhcoatl's blessing by a sacred cycle: every fifty-two years, a hatchling of turquoise scales is born."

She makes a soft, unhappy hum as she gets to the next part of her story. "This one was sent from Am'shere because the tribe is dying. Fewer and fewer hatchlings are surviving their first years. This past year, no turquoise hatchling was born at all. It is believed that the tribe has lost the favor of the Xiuhcoatl spirit, and this one's elder sent this one to the softskin lands. A vision told this one's elder that this one would leave Am'shere--either to save the tribe, or to find a new life."

Cuemoni pauses as her golden eyes nictate. "This one... has found a new life. With Zeke." She sounds so shy and yet so pleased on that last notion.

Seldan takes his tea in turn, cradling the cup between callused hands and taking a polite, slow sip of the tea within. Once the other two have seated themselves, he does likewise, settling back to listen to the tale being spun. Still, there is something in the steady, even gaze, something sharply attentive. "Pleased am I to learn that Zeke has found companionship again," he remarks, turning that gaze on Zeke." That they do not use a particular word is not lost on him. A beginning, then. "A new life - among the people of Alexandria?"

Zeke blinks at Cuemoni's words. A new life. With him. His tail slips around to tenuously touch hers. Just a little, light touch. He doesn't want to surprise her, though he knows well that few are as sensitive to touch as he himself is. He does not answer for her of course, but rather listens to her reply with his own interest. Thinking to himself that Telamon might well have the right of things, and this thought is a warm glow in his chest as he watches the female.

"Yes," Cuemoni responds easily to Seldan's words, gently and warmly like a hearth-fire might be. Her tail accepts that touch from Zeke's own, and there's a gentle little motion from within her tail that invites him to linger there, should he want it--should he choose it. "This one works with, and learns from, the spirits of nature. This one is adept with fire, but with water, too, as is typical of those who are of the Xiuhcoatl people. Fire is natural. Wildfires claim tree bark, but the ashes make for renewal of the earth. Am'shere and those who dwell in it have opened up to softskins. Those that the People called outsider, yet the People have come to softskin lands, too. This one is an outsider here. A visitor. Until this one met Zeke."

There's a warm little rumble in her chest, an affectionate thing as she looks to Zeke. "This one met Zeke first for a reason," she says. "This one has learned of the ways of Alexandria through Zeke and through others who respect Zeke. This is a good land with good people, including this one's companion. Yet this one--does not want a nest, not in the way that the People nor the tribe would think of such. This one has refused all notions of such despite those from the tribe's protests. This one may not ever want such a thing. But this one does want to spend time in Zeke's company, to make him happy as he has made this one."

Her golden eyes turn back to Seldan. "That is all this one wishes. Zeke's happiness. Nothing else."

"Certainly is Zeke deserving of happiness," Seldan agrees, at once, barely moving as he listens to the words being spoken. All of his attention is on the pair now, whatever he had been thinking on earlier pushed to the background. He watches not only words, but actions as well, and the interaction of their tails says much. Something in his demeanor softens, and his smile - a boyish thing - blooms suddenly in the serious features. "Even so? It is not a nest that you wish, only happiness. That is well, and I do not doubt that with Zeke shall you find it, for he is the finest of folk, of any race, and deserves loyalty and joy. Not always has he known such things." The smile fades, and he watches her intently. "You know that he has been hurt."

Zeke's tail ''does'' linger. He allows himself to relax fully here in their company, his embarrassment and anxiety fading. These people he trusts. These people he cares for deeply. Each in their own distinct way. Their words confirm really, what Telamon had said to him before. That these people that cared for him saw him with their own eyes. They saw something - someone - in him that he himself was blind to. Someone deserving of care and respect.

This awareness touches him deeply.

He watches the smile fade from Seldan's eyes and the next question is one that has Zeke stumbling mentally. He has not ''exactly'' spoken to Cuemoni of these things, but has explained in part his... unique needs. As she has explained hers. Zeke sips his tea to give himself a moment to think and the comforting flavor gives him stability. Again he lets Cuemoni speak for herself.

"This one knows that Zeke has been treated unkindly by others," Cuemoni says gently, her tail touching Zeke's like how softskins might hold hands and squeeze them to comfort each other. "Zeke has told this one a little of what has happened in the past. This one does not demand nor expect the full stories; they are Zeke's decision alone to tell when and if he is ready. This one only strives to treat Zeke as kindly as possible in light of that hurt."

Her golden eyes nictate. "This one does not ask the spirit of the burned tree what happened. This one asks only how to help the tree spirit, how to comfort the spirit and give them the warmth and kindness that the tree deserves. With care and time, the spirit will be renewed. People are like spirits: they must be cared for. They must be treated with respect. This one has been told by Zeke of what he needs from this one, and this one will do her best--knowing that this one is flawed, as are all mortal beings--to do right by Zeke's needs and care. This one wants Zeke's happiness and well-being more than ''anything''." The last word is said with the passion befitting of a flame druid, but the type of flame of a generous hearth-fire that warms the bones.

"Zeke deserves loyalty and joy indeed. This one will give Zeke loyalty, unquestionably. This one will strive to give Zeke joy as this one has been given joy by Zeke." Another warm little rumble, and the rest of Cuemoni's tail (that isn't already intertwined with Zeke's, close to the tip) inches just a little closer to Zeke's in an affectionate motion.

 GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (8)+24: 32

Seldan regards Cuemoni steadily, assessingly, for several breaths at her words, then nods. "Then am I satisfied," he says finally. "Indeed will he speak, in his turn, but to know that there is one who cares for him, as he cares for those around him, is a great joy indeed." He lifts the tea to his lips again, and takes a long, slow pull.

"You are shaman, then, for you speak of the wildfire as a living thing." He turns the topic, then, watching the pair interact, a very small smile coming to his lips as he does so. "I guess you to be more comfortable in the wild, than within the walls. Is that so?"

There is a tangle of tail now, dark blue and teal. It is not strange to him really, to hear himself compared to burned tree. He has led a long life, and the damage that this life has done to him - in body, mind, and in spirit - has been healing. The truth is that he rather likes the analogy. That though he may never be as other trees are, that he can still grow and heal. Old he may be, but sith-makar live very long lives, as trees do. There is time for healing. "Sssaaa." He murmurs quietly as Seldan accepts Cuemoni's words. "You make an old one embarrasssed Cuemoni. Thisss one isss glad to give you the joy that thisss one isss capable of."

Yet his green eyes twinkle with amusement. He is not as embarrassed as he says he is. His heart is warm with the full realization that Seldan is trying to measure this new person in his life, that Seldan ''cares''. That Cuemoni cares. That she wants to make a good impression on his kin, and yet that she says nothing which is untrue.

There's an affectionate rumble from within Cuemoni with Zeke's expression of embarrassment and his green eyes of amusement. "This one hardly thinks of your age, Zeke," she says, "except to be thankful for the years of wisdom you have, and to hope that this one can help make all years to follow the joyful ones that you deserve." That tangle of tails grows even closer now.

Cuemoni's golden eyes return to Seldan. "This one is comfortable in the wild, yes, as that is where the nature spirits that this one speaks to and petitions live," she says, "but this one is also comfortable with the spirits that come with a home. This one views that relationship as important, too. The house spirits receive regular offerings of water in thanks for their hospitality and shelter. Life is a balance. To honor nature and to honor home is to help maintain that balance."

Her eyes flicker momentarily to the armor rack and then to the robes. "This one knows that softskins have their own customs and do not have castes like the People do. So this one is curious: does honored kin Seldan work with magic and use a weapon in equal measure? In balance?"

Seldan's eyebrows lift in appraisal at the comments about balance, of the wild and the urban life. "I see," he murmurs. "Indeed is it never too late for one so deserving to find joy. Never would I deny him that, and it pleases me that he has found it." His eyes lower, and turn away from the tangle of tails to his half-empty teacup. 

He takes another slow pull of his tea, and does not look up until the question is posed. "Indeed. Such is not uncommon for those who serve the Dreaming Goddess as I do. She who watches over the Sea of Mana denies not her followers from touching it, in addition to Her service. I am called to do both. Though I wield the blade, I have set it aside for this meeting." This is said with a curious tone, flatness concealing amusement.

Zeke rumbles in amusement. "Ssseldan isss humble. He isss very ssskilled in both the ussse of a blade and the art of magic. Thisss one hasss sseen him battle demonsss and ussse sssuch to great effect againssst their ilk." He glances at Seldan's cup and mentally measures how much the man has had. Then sips his own tea. There will be a need for refilling soon if this conversation were to endure.

Cuemoni seems entirely engaged in the idea of this man before her locked in close combat with demons using blade and magic, judging by that subtle lean forward in her seat. "This one respects the Dreaming Dragon," she says, "just as this one respects the Dragonfather that Zeke serves. It is then of little wonder that you are Zeke's honored kin. You are clearly as devoted of a servant of the divine dragons as he is--in addition to your kindness and caring for Zeke."

She seems so very happy that they have that in common. "This one expresses thanks, for all that you have done in fighting demons--and in protecting Zeke. The work of such a skilled warrior and shaman is not rewarded enough with praise, this one has found."

Seldan's cup is just about empty, and there is enough in the teapot for a second cup for all, but not much more than that. The contents of the paladin's cup are quite visible to Zeke, even as he himself focuses more of his attention on Cuemoni. Indeed, at her word, he flushes, his eyes lowering. "Neither thanks nor praise is required. I do as She calls me to do, and in Zeke's wisdom and kindness have I found a steadfast friend - nay, a brother - in my quest, a brother in the Light. It matters not whether we were born of the same mother, or even the same People. Zeke has stood at my side when all save one other has turned away, and I have striven to stand at his in the same way."

Zeke ducks his head a little at all the praise passing between them, and slowly uncurls his tail from Cuemoni's. It's a surprisingly reluctant thing, but he can see that the tea is getting quite low all around. The blue-scale stands momentarily, offering silently refills to everyone. Including himself - last of course - before putting the pot down and settling back down on his stool. "Cuemoni isss ssspeaking truth though kin, you rarely hear the praissse that you have earned. Necesssary or not."

He rumbles out a soft amusement. "You ssspeak truth asss well Ssseldan. Kin isss not a thing of nessst-mothersss or People. It isss a thing of trussst and connection. Thisss one isss proud to have you assss ssuch."

There's another pleased tail-flick and a soft 'this one thanks you' from Cuemoni as Zeke refills her teacup, that tail coming close to Zeke's once he is seated again to invite him back, should he want it. A little rumble of amusement leaves her as she watches Zeke and Seldan both lowering their heads and eyes.

"This one thinks you both are kin by the way you both act," she says. "Humility. It is a good thing. The braggart is a noisy bird that sees itself eaten quickly by a hungry predator looking for an easy meal."

She takes up her refilled teacup and allows it to warm her claws again. "This one is understanding the connection between honored kin and loved companion. The trust. This one agrees with Zeke. This one is closer with the Xiuhcoatl elder than with nest-mother--and as this one has decided to live here in Alexandria, soon this one will be closer to more softskins than People. The elder's vision sent this one here to learn such wisdom, and more beyond." She sounds deeply appreciative. "This one is joyed to learn from you both."

Seldan, too, accepts the refill and takes the newly-refilled cup into both hands, considering it, and all that is said. "I shall spare you the details of my own nest," he offers with the very smallest of smiles, "but it is plain to me that though your tribe may have found dark days, that there lives a light within, and that you were raised in love. Such shall be a blessing to Zeke, who has known far too little of it. May it be a blessing to your tribe as well, for all is not lost, where such light remains." 

He takes a slow pull of his tea. "Is it in your minds, then, to seek housing within the city walls?" His next question is careful, but less so.

Zeke thinks about the small and comfortable home that he shares with his kin. Giving it up... does not appeal to him. He remembers keenly the little house that he'd shared... He shakes his head with a sigh and looks at Cuemoni. "We have not talked about sssharing ssspace." Living in Alexandria... He wonders which would be worse for his heart. Living here, or living in Mictlan. It's a conversation that they should have. "Have you thought about it Cuemoni?"

There's no pressure in the question, only curiosity.

"It would be nice to share space," Cuemoni says, golden eyes looking over to Zeke, "but this one would not trouble you to move apart from living spaces you have grown to love nor to part from house spirits you are in good standing with. This one only wants what is comfortable for you, Zeke. If you were to wish to live with this one, this one would be happy wherever you would wish to dwell, and in whatever home you find."

A reassuring scent comes from her, something Zeke could scent. "This one cherishes the bonds that Zeke has already established and does not, for even a moment, dream that it is this one's place to demand that those bonds be altered at this one's request."

The answer is clear enough, if not explicitly stated, and he, too, lets out a breath. He may not be privy to all the communication going on between them, but the intent is clear enough. "The choice is yours," is all he says on the matter, although he regards Cuemoni curiously. "I would hear the tale of how you two came to meet." Siiiiip. "Would you wish for more tea, kin?"

For a moment the blue-scale considers the offer of more tea, and his tail is about to flicker in amusement only for him to realize that the tail has wandered off and found Cuemoni's once again. This makes him feel a small rush of embarrassment. "Ssssa. Thisss one hasss the day off from temple duty. Thisss one brought Cuemoni to meet you, but thisss one knowss you have much on your mind and doesss not wisssh to intrude upon your peasssceful resst. Sssso thisss one had in mind.... to have a meal with Cuemoni?" This last is almost a question. It's clear he'll change those plans if they are not approved of.

It's Cuemoni's turn to look bashful, something that is close to Zeke's own body language when he is embarrassed. "This one was... in the Market District, when the rain was pouring from the sky, when this one met Zeke. This one was hungry, because this one did not know the custom of ordering food from the market stalls. Zeke generously shared his meal with this one."

Of course, her stomach grumbles at the mention of Zeke taking her to share a meal, and she further lowers her head. "This one would love to share a meal," she says gently, quite bashfully. "It is how this one met Zeke, after all."

And, well, food is said to be the quickest way to someone's heart.

Seldan's opinion of the idea is clear, for the very small smile reappears at the suggestion, and he drains his teacup and sets it on the writing desk behind him. "Very well. I shall not keep the two of you from your meal. I have recovered, and I have completed the task I have set for myself. I shall return these to those who require them, and then shall I return to our shelter. I shall not await you, return when you will. Please am I to have met you, and to learn that there is another who will offer Zeke all that he deserves."

Zeke rises to his own feet, quietly untangling his tail again so he can balance himself there. He sets aside his cup and offers to take Cuemoni's from her. He offers her his hand also. "Thisss one thanksss you kin. Thisss one will return sssoon." He wont leave Seldan long in their shared domicile for long. He takes a step toward Seldan then, and reaches out slowly to touch the other man on the shoulder. Connecting them via himself. "Thisss one isss grateful. For you both. Thisss one isss grateful for your eyesss which sssee thisss one... better."

A confusing statement perhaps, but one he clearly means.

Cuemoni's golden eyes sparkle a little as she takes his claw in hers, watching the exchange between Zeke and his honored kin with the reverence that such a moment demands. "This one's eyes perceive you exactly the way you are, Zeke," she says so softly. "They see a good person. A friend. A love."

Her tail twitches in that happy way sith-makar tails do with the sentiment. "And honored kin Seldan's kin," she adds. "All of these are true in this one's sight."

For answer, Seldan holds out both hands for the pair's cups, a clear offer to take them. "I wish you both well, and may Her light shine upon your path. You have my gratitude for making Cuemoni known to me, Zeke." Clearly, he considers the interview over, for he sets about moving about the room, cleaning up teacups and teapot, bringing all over to the writing desk with its multiple sheets and quill and closed ink bottle. 

If either of them look, they will see that all of the papers appear to read the same, judging by the positioning of the words on paper, but he says nothing of it, instead soberly turning to see them out the door.

[[Category:Logs]]