The Bridge

Emelle

I was going through old logs the other day and came across this one, in which @Haven and Emelle awkwardly converse, and he gives her the title she still wears.

--

The Tear of Lleis
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Like a cathedral's window, three pines appear to watch over this place, silent and beautiful in their own right - the tallest of the three in the center flanked by two of equal height. The pines stand sentry over a rippling pool. The ripples in the pool emanate from a welling up, similar to a submerged fountain, in the very center. The pool's waters lap at the reedy bank, the cattails that grow there turned into bright white puff balls as if preparing for coming winter. To the east, a thorny hedge blocks the view in that direction, while the line of pines bars more than a fleeting glimpse of a sparkling river beyond this place. The Tear of Lleis ripples gently here, embraced by its reedy bank. A gentle pony grazes contentedly nearby. A shimmering ball of energy hovers here above a multi-colored coral pedestal ornamented with seashells. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Haven Locke of the Black Sun is here.
You see exits leading northeast and southeast.

A quiet jingling precedes Emelle's otherwise quiet emergence into the clearing. She meanders, apparently just out for a walk, one thumb hooked in the strap of a durable leather rucksack. Then, spotting Haven, she stays her step.

Dark and heavy like the clouds of a gathering storm, Haven looks up from the Tear to regard Emelle with a contemplative stare. It takes the Azudim a moment or three to actually seem to recognize who it is exactly that is before him. "Seer." The title leaves the former Knight at a rumble as he lets his hand drop away from the leather-wrapped handle of his mace. Recognition creeping into his features, Haven seems to relax a touch. But only a fraction as he offers her the slightest of nods in greeting. "It has been quite some time."

Emelle returns Haven's nod with a subtle tip of her head and seems to take the address as permission to approach closer. She joins him at the edge of the Tear, her arms coming to fold loosely over her chest in a familiar posture. "Mister Locke," she greets with a hint of formality. After a moment of study, she nods again. "Aye, seems so. Are you well?"

"The dreams are gone if that's what you mean." Haven answers rather abruptly, his words immediately following her own. His lips work into a slight resemblance of a scowl and his clawed fingers work into his palms to shape a nearly trembling fist. The reaction seems to even take the Azudim by surprise as he takes a moment to think on it. Perhaps with a tinge of embarrassment slipping into his otherwise dark expression, the former Knight turns his eyes off of her to better regard the Tear before him. "Sor... I am well enough these days. Problem after problem but nothing beyond my ability to handle." He amends while being sure to remain fixated on anything but Emelle.

A ghostly hand ripples into existence before Haven and grasps his shoulder. Moments later, a short burst of azure light surrounds him and when the light fades he is nowhere to be seen.

Emelle blinks and scans the surrounding area, her eyebrow lofting. "Mm."

Reality shudders and Haven reappears, looking disoriented.

Shifting her weight, Emelle says to Haven, "Hello."

Haven mutters discontentedly.

Emelle smiles wryly.

Haven Locke of the Black Sun says, "Damn Spireans."

"What do they want from you?" Emelle absently wonders, swaying gently as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then back.

Gruff, Haven Locke of the Black Sun says, "Corruption."

Haven Locke of the Black Sun says, "They seek to lure me back across the ways."

"Hm." The sound is brief, clipped; Emelle frowns vaguely at the Tear in consideration. "Are you tempted?" she asks then in a curious tone absent of any point.

His tone dropping a touch, Haven Locke of the Black Sun says, "Of course not."

"Blessed is the Light and all those who reach for it." Haven recites quietly to her.

Emelle makes a sound somewhere between acknowledgement and a groan. "Aye," she breezily replies, sighing.

Slanting him a sideways look, Emelle asks Haven, "Have there been any disturbances in Enorian lately?"

Haven falls quiet at her question as he takes on a more neutral expression. His hands and shoulders ease while his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. His chin slightly raises, not out of defiance or arrogance, but thought. It is reflection that resonates in his eyes as he takes a moment to consider how best to answer her. "I have been ousted from Enorian, Seer. For a long, long time now. I carry no banner save my own and thus... I know very little of the comings and goings of Enorian."

Her head taking on a lean, Emelle appraises Haven with a sort of detached curiosity. There may be a hint of surprise detected in the subtle shift of her features. "I did not know." Obviously. Her head falls into a series of slow nods as she thoughtfully looks out over the Tear. "How is that?"

Haven Locke of the Black Sun says to Emelle, "As many have warned me... I burn too hot."

A short laugh escapes Emelle's nose and her lips pull into a dry smirk. "I see."

"I'm glad someone finds amusement in all this." Haven intones as he looks over his shoulder at Emelle. To the keen eye, one might notice the faintest hint of humor and mirth creeping near the edges of his lips and threatening to shape a smirk of his own. "I trust all is well on your end, or at the very least more fortunate than mine."

"Mm." Emelle glances at Haven and rolls her nearest shoulder in something like a shrug. At first she's quiet, her eye skimming over his face while she thinks. "Some things are well, others less. As it ever is," she answers at length, breathing out a sigh. Just when it seems like she may have been through speaking, in a greater attempt at conversation, she tacks on: "I am like you. I do not...fit, easily."

Nodding in approval, Haven Locke of the Black Sun says, "Strength is hard to contain. All those who have it will find themselves slightly off from the rest. Some will try to emulate. Some will revere. Some will oppose but in the end the strong will never be like the rest. We're destined to roam the outside as the watchers, I think."

Emelle's gaze sweeps over Haven, then drops to her own form briefly before returning to him. "We have different ideas of strength," she remarks, her lips quirking to one side.

Haven draws his hands together behind his back and shakes his head slightly at Emelle. "Maybe in application but it is one and the same."

Emelle considers Haven sidelong for a few beats before she actually smiles, a small expression, but one of genuine pleasure. "Mm," she intones, lowering her arms to her sides and tucking her fingers into the pockets of her leggings. "Does it content you? Your own...'banner'."

"It..." Haven abruptly stops, his answer cut short as he regards her. Was it her smile? Her genuine pleasure that stopped the Azudim in his tracks? The flesh around his eyes wrinkles lightly as he casts his head at a slant and scrolls Emelle. Judging. Weighing her. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen her truly smile before. For the moment, the Azudim simply clings to the silence like one might cling to a winter cloak against a frigid breeze. Tight and fierce it is as it wraps around him. Time begins to stretch and as he devours the sight of her, it isn't until his own silvered gaze actually meets her emerald that the former Knight is drawn back into the moment to face reality. A cleared throat starts him again, "It serves, Seer. I hope to see it grow and congregate the strong but we'll see how kind the gods above are."

Feeling Haven's eyes on her, Emelle shifts hers back to him, the mercurial smile already gone. Her body turns slightly, enough that she actually faces him more than the Tear, and she returns the evaluation with a lowering eyebrow. When she does match Haven's gaze again, she levels him a nod. "They are both kinder and more cruel than we can ever expect," she replies with a trace of wryness. "I will be interested to see."

Solemnly, Haven Locke of the Black Sun asks, "Is She cruel to you?"

With quiet honesty, Emelle says to Haven, "Sometimes."

Lightly, Haven Locke of the Black Sun asks, "And you love Her still?"

"There is much more to Her than cruelty," Emelle answers, swaying her weight onto her right leg. "She has also shown mercy to me. More than I may deserve."

Haven breaks into a chuckle, the tone heavy in his throat as he briefly looks away. "I find it hard to believe there's a situation where you wouldn't deserve mercy, Seer. You are a pure sort." As the last words leave him, Haven gestures towards her frame for added emphasis.

Emelle chuckles dryly at Haven behind closed lips. "I have been selfish. I was not here to serve Her when She needed me," she relates. Shuffling her hooves, she drops her head for a beat, then lifts it, turning to watch the horizon as the sun sets over the Tear. "That is why She took Her Eyes. My time with them is over." She glances back to him. "But She gave one back to me. One that sees. Which is more than I had before."

The edge that presses into Haven's tone is like that of a dull blade against stone but an edge all the same. "I suppose I've grown foolish in my old age to think you were what you seem. A marvel though," The Azudim shifts his weight to better regard her a moment before taking a step forward. And then another to narrow the gap further. More follow until the former Knight finds himself just beyond arm's length of Emelle. "The gifts the gods grant us. I've often wondered, however, do they dull the gifts we can find in ourselves." The tone Haven later adopts is a questioning one as he studies her expression - looking for any hint of a reaction. Any twitch. Any flutter. All to be devoured and judged.

"What makes you believe I am not?" Emelle earnestly wonders, canting her head at Haven. His approach makes her stiffen visibly, but she stands her ground; maybe the coiling of her muscles is more a reflex than anything else. She returns his gaze levelly, her expression neutral until the question, at which her eyebrow gently lofts. "Do They?" she asks finally, after a long pause. "I think They only show us how to see differently. Their gifts are different than ours."

Haven leaves the question unanswered as he works his mouth into a bit of a smirk before turning away from her entirely. "Do you know of Solaria?"

Emelle mulls over the name, then nods once. With Haven's back turned, she edges back a step, putting a comfortable space between them. "Not well. Have met her, once or twice. Why?"

Haven turns his head just enough to pull Emelle back into his sights as he says, "She seeks me out but I admit to knowing little of her beyond the fact that she mother'd Soramizu and Aryanne and has served as the leader of your kin. I had hoped you could give me an idea of what I might expect from such a meeting."

Emelle's shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "My kin?" she asks, confusion surfacing on her features.

"Your brethren. Your comrades. Your Council in the Wilds." Haven states as he adopts his more formal posture again. The neutral mask settles into place with just a hint of grimness at the edges of his expression. The faint twitch at the corners of his lips to the quiet wrinkling at the corners of his eyes, the grimness remains but a ghost in the former Knight's demeanor to all but the keen eye. "You are still of Duiran, no?"

An amused snort issues from Emelle's nose, her lips curling. "I have never thought of them as my kin," she informs Haven, pulling a hand from her pocket to push some hair back over her shoulder. "But no. I am not." She evaluates his face with her eye as she awaits his response.

A burning knot twists in Haven's core at her words but he is very careful in keeping his expression cool. His spirit torn asunder and be damned if something were to show! He could feel the quickening in his heart and the heat spreading across his chest and creeping into his neck, reaching across his dark complexion for his face. Yet still, his expression is neutral. "The more you know." He utters, his tone drawn quiet and even. A breath hardly above a whisper.

Emelle tilts her head slowly to one side, but she's not looking at Haven, she's looking through him, her eye losing focus. His words bring her back and she blinks, meeting his gaze. "I am sure you are not disappointed to hear I have left the ranks of the 'savages'," she jokes with a fleeting grin. "What is it?"

"You are... Why?" Haven asks, keeping true to his neutrality. "Why leave them behind?" The Azudim roots himself in place, half looking to Emelle and the other to the surrounding pines that make up the Tear. If the anticipation for her answer were not in his demeanor, then it is in his tone that he's betrayed as he awaits in silence for a response.

"Because I have a low tolerance for idiots and ridiculous bickering," Emelle answers flatly, and with total seriousness. A few moments later, she elects to elaborate some, saying, "I began to feel I didn't belong there anymore. I have not belonged to the monastery for decades, I am not a combatant, they have little to offer me and I can offer them even less." Sighing, she takes a step closer to the Tear, one of her hooves breaking its surface and sending a series of ripples out over the water.

Delicately, Haven Locke of the Black Sun says to Emelle, "I've known you for some time, Seer. Not much but I thought enough."

Evenly, Emelle asks Haven, "And what did you think?"

Haven turns entirely to face Emelle as she toys with the surface of the Tear. "That you were among the strangest creatures to roam the lands." The Azudim allows a touch of mirth to become readily apparent in his tone. "However, if there is one thing I think I should ask it's what is it that you dream for? You've done me a service in the past. A kind one at that which some would argue I did and still do not deserve."

"And I am more or less strange than you thought?" Emelle asks Haven in good humor; if appearances are to be believed, he wouldn't be the first person to tell her this. As she considers his question, though, her amusement fades into an expression more thoughtful. At great length, she answers simply, "To teach others, and to learn myself. It is my duty, part of my service to Her."

"Both if it can be believed." Haven says as he drops his gaze to study his claws. Quietly clicking his fingers against his palm, the Azudim's tone remains solemn as he adds, "I wonder how many would be able to recognize just how dangerous yet important you are. I might not have fully believed it had I not seen it for myself in your service to me but...There are those that are Keepers of the Light and Masters of the Dark. I would name you the bridge. A Servant of the Path." The words fade near the end as the former Knight concedes to a grumble of sorts as he mulls things over. "How then am I to repay you when your only wish is to learn yourself?" The question may be rhetorical as the Azudim does not seem to be paying much attention to Emelle at this point, his focus strictly upon his drumming fingers.

What begins as a vacant expression quickly transforms into one of naked wonder as Emelle stares at Haven. Her eye roams his face as if searching for something while her fingers fidget at her sides; eventually she shoves her hands into the pockets of a suede duster coat. "The work I do gives me meaning. A purpose," she tells him quietly, glancing down at her hooves. "Something I often feel lacking." When she looks back up at him, she adds, "And the price I ask is high, I am told."

A frown wrinkles Haven's brow as he glances dubiously at Emelle and articulates a "Hrm...."

Emelle blinks at Haven, her eyebrow creeping upward in a silent query.

Haven turns his eyes toward the east as he says, "I think I've taken enough of your time, Seer. Until we meet again... I wish warm fires upon you."

"Thank you," Emelle replies to Haven inexplicably, bowing her head in a gesture of clear respect. Rolling her shoulder to adjust the sit of a durable leather rucksack against her back, she turns away from him. Just before she disappears from sight, she calls over her shoulder, "Take care, Firestarter."

Haven

Haha, fun times. At the very beginning, @Emelle had interrupted something that was going on which is why Haven was so tense. I forget what drama he was involved in at the time but it was certainly a pleasant surprise to encounter you during it.

I'm so glad you got a kick out of his description of Emelle. ^_^