ruinations | adsom: reunions

She let the brief flash of pain wash over her, frowning. Neria reached out and pressed back, warm against his thoughts, but did not push for answers. Holland was a subject they hadn't spoken of in months, though she remembered the things they had traded about him. But what Kell didn't say became clear to her: these guards were supposed to be with him, and he'd slipped their lead to be at her side.

All right. Give me a few minutes.

She pulled her hair back into something looser, and braided two short strands to pull back into the tie on either side of her head. Neria looked at herself in the mirror and pulled herself from her chair. She made her way to Kell's room, gently knocking for him.

Neria wasn't wrong.

Kell made a sound of assent under his breath, forgetting that she couldn't hear it. When she approached the room she'd find his door cracked, the guards stationed outside out of respect for his privacy.

When she knocked he tugged the door inward a moment later, moved through to join her in the hallway. His eyes warmed as he took her in -- herself as she was. Despite coming from worlds away, Neria... well, she'd always had a certain nobility to her bearing.

She fit the space more than she knew.

Kell offered her his arm.

Hastra moved again to lead, but not before offering Neria a warm smile. The place they went to wasn't terribly far- it was within the same wing of the palace, though closer to the outer rim of the buildings. The hallways gave over to more windows, affording a view of the city, and of the sprawling gardens and buildings of the Isle. It was a touch cooler here, but the sunlight through the well-placed windows warmed them.

In fact, the room they were led to was a sunroom, with glassed windows and roof, fragrant with green and the smell of freshly baked bread, hot tea. The floor was stone covered in soft carpet. It still held a sense of the royal, but... it was not so harshly formal.

Staff and Hastra stayed outside the chambers, but Kell led on -- and they encountered the king and queen almost immediately, seated in comfortable chairs around a glassed table set with tea.

Both of them looked nothing like Kell.

Though Rhy wasn't present -- he'd likely meet up with them later -- the family resemblance was plain. Rhy looked like a perfect blending of his parents. The Queen was a touch smaller than Rhy, a woman with large, careful brown eyes who had grown into matured beauty. Her long hair was braided through with golden ribbons, her every movement purposeful.

The King was a mountain of a man, older, but not gone soft in his age. Standing broader and taller than Kell, he had the look of a man who carried the weight of years of responsibility, but did not falter in the strength to do so. Where Rhy's golden-amber eyes (before the change, at least) had often been laughing, volatile, Maxim's were steady and hard as steel.

Though there was no hostility in how they regarded Kell, there was no warmth, either.

"Father, Mother," Kell said quietly, coming to a stop next to the table. "This is Neria Surana. Neria, this is King Maxim and Queen Emira Maresh."

The queen was the one to politely lift a hand to indicate the two empty seats.

"Please, join us."

When Kell emerged, Neria looked up and gave him a smile to match the warmth that showed in his gaze. It felt too easy to slip her arm around his and to follow beside him, though it certainly seemed surreal. Though they'd walked together several times before, this time they stood side-by-side, no collars, no bloodshed, no war, surrounded by finery.

Considering all they'd been through, it seemed a little like a far-off dream that she was walking in.

But follow him she did, with Hastra kind enough to lead. As they crossed the threshold into the sunroom, Neria forced her anxieties out, for her fear to settle. She held her head high and kept her expression open.

She did not know what she was going to expect from the King and Queen...but their resemblance to Rhy, while logical, surprised her. She saw the strength in both of them, the grace and poise, and inclined her head when Kell spoke her name. She dipped into a deep bow, deeper than she had for the guards. "Thank you, Your Grace," she said, and released Kell slowly so she could sit as he did - and she shot him a brief look if he should try to pull her chair out for her. "I am humbled by your hospitality."

Kell did try to pull her chair out for her -- but he was quick to shoot her a look right back, then sit down next to her, remembering himself and where he was.

Emira's dark eyes took in the byplay, while Maxim's remained fixed on Neria, as if weighing her.

They could hardly keep you in the dungeons, Kell wanted to answer, but he schooled his tongue (and may have thought it too loudly, a bad habit).

"Of course," Emira responded politely, and moved the tea tray closer to them both in offer. One glance at Kell, and he automatically moved to pour them each a cup, if only to have something to do with his hands. "It seems your arrival was as much of a surprise to you as it was to us."

Kell shut his eyes for longer than a blink. The words were pleasant enough, but the question was there.

They could, she whispered back, solemn, but did not meet Kell's gaze this time. Instead, she sat, and she was drawn to look toward Maxim, unflinching beneath the steel weight he leveled upon her. I have been an interloper before. To herself, in silence, she mapped how quickly she could get out if needed, though it was her last resort.

She needed to rise up this time, rather than let herself be hobbled.

Her hands remained in her lap while Kell poured them tea. Her thumb pressed into the back of her hand. "It was, yes. It was my not my intention to intrude upon your world and its sanctuary." She did not say she held remorse over where she came out, nor in her reuniting with Kell. "It was only fortuitous that I knew someone here."

It was only after Kell realized Neria had heard his thought that he had to hold back from flinching visibly. Too soon. Far too soon. Although his parents would never do a thing like that.

Never.

Kell wrapped his fingers around the cup, a habit that didn't look proper, one Emira always chided Rhy for, but tended to look past Kell's indulgence in. She didn't notice now -- her eyes were for Neria, weighing her words, weighing the questions she wanted to ask.

"Would you mind telling us about how you found yourself here? In as much detail as possible? This may help us to understand the circumstances better."

Apparently, they weren't wasting any time.

Neria did not look at Kell. Her eyes were on the King and Queen, her back straight. For once, there was nothing in Kell's thoughts - no warmth, no whisper - as she retreated to keep herself focused. So that nothing on her face would betray whatever it was she felt unless she allowed it.

They did not waste time. She understood why. And she remembered that Kell told her to be honest, even if it did not paint him in a favorable light. She did not want to tell them anything that might hurt him - but she knew what it was to be the protector of a world, the responsibility on a single set of shoulders.

Neria breathed. "I am not from this world, nor am I a native of the world I came from. The one I met Kell in, Asora. In my time there, I have changed. And in these changes, my magic has grown and...has allowed me to slip through the fabric of the world." She tipped her head up and spoke with complete and utter honesty. "But this power was, supposedly, limited to Asora. I did not know it would allow me to slip through to other worlds.

"I wish I could say I chose to come here. I did not. I only wanted to be away from where I was."

Emira's fingertips were resting on the edge of her tea-saucer, and as Neria spoke, frost touched their edges, traced in wisps along the ceramic.

"This power, then, it is involuntary? It responds to your wish, rather than being drawn with purpose?"

Though the Queen's face gave nothing away, she looked somewhat more pale.

She paused again.

"And it drew you here, to Kell?"

She heard the implication. Neria's expression did not change, but her hands were tight around each other, clenched until her knuckles were nearly bleached with effort.

"Its purpose," she reflected gently, "was to take me to safety. It is mine to command and it did as I wished and bid it. I did not provide a destination." To delve further into such questions threatened to open up a door she had kept closed for her safety - for Kell's - if only so she could cope with her trial alone. Her heart had so often been an open book, upended for much of the world to see. She carried her passion and carried her love on her sleeves. For one who had gone so long without someone else to call her own, to have no family or close friends, to never be able to utter the word... Was it any wonder that she wanted that intimacy and closeness, that she wanted to share the emotion she had harbored for so long?

But in the race for godhood, her love was a violent thing, cruel. Better creatures could love the people she cared for. Instead, all she had was poison.

Did her love draw her here to the one person she felt safest with? Why did it not bring her to Hakkyuu?

(Kell's home had a doorway, already opened once. It was, perhaps, the easiest route to take.)

"I do not think it drew me here to him specifically. After all, at any time, Kell could have ordered me to leave. He could have seen me killed." She spoke with a frankness she had already told herself the night before. "I would not have faulted him for it. I understand your need to protect your home from outside threats."

It was Kell the Queen turned her eyes to, then, searching his face. His expression. As if she could see beneath his eyes to the thoughts buried there, as if she could map what he would decide. Kell could have had Neria killed. He could have done whatever it took.

Kell felt the discomfort of her gaze but didn’t move, didn’t squirm under it. He drank his tea, keeping his expression blank.

“We appreciate your understanding of the matter,” Maxim answered, and his voice was deep, deeper than Kell or Rhy’s. He spoke more slowly and with more weight. “But you yourself are not the source of our concern.”

The Queen released the edge of her saucer, and the frost vanished. A small crease appeared between her eyes as she regarded them, a tightness in her mouth.

“If your connection to Kell was the catalyst, we may count it less likely that others will replicate what you have done. If not…”

Edited 2018-10-02 17:44 (UTC)

Neria watched and something cold settled into her bones. She did not look at Kell, would not betray him, but a question burned inside of her that she reined in before it slipped out, knowing it would immediately unsettle what was already upturned.

Maxim spoke and she breathed again. Her gaze returned to him.

"I am equally as concerned as you are, Your Grace," she admitted, and this, too, was not a lie. "That I was able to do this at all is disconcerting. I do not know where the weft in the world is, but I would see it closed permanently to prevent others such as myself from entering this world in the ways that I have."

And to add assurances, even if it made her heart ache, she added, "With that accomplished, I would depart. If possible...I would stand guard to ensure what happened today does not happen again." She did not reach out to Kell, though she desperately wanted to. If she did, she knew her composure would crumble.

She would depart. She would not, however, imply that she would enjoy doing so.

Kell wasn’t in Neria’s mind, and she wasn’t brushing against his, but he didn’t need it to see the cold stillness that settled over her – and he knew that it wasn’t for the reason his King and Queen may have thought it was. It was all he could do to keep his expression blank, to not push against the fragile silence and break something by tipping the balance.

When she breathed again, he let the air in his lungs flow slowly out, masking the moment with his cup against his lips, his eyelashes lowering down and over his eyes.

… and they stayed there, through her promise, though cold stole through his nerves and muscles, into his bones. He didn’t look at her, didn’t look at the royals, fought himself to stillness and silence. He took a deep, long drink of tea.

Meanwhile, Emira’s dark eyes changed, the corner of her mouth tight, and there was something of Kell in her expression now, there and gone.

Maxim nodded, the gold of his crown glinting against his hair. “It is for the best if we move forward with that goal in mind. Your best resource will be Tieren. Kell will work with you both to resolve this.”

It had the tone of an order, and Kell put his teacup down with a short nod. “Yes, sir.”

Maxim sighed, settling back slowly in his chair, the most animation he had shown since the beginning of their meeting – and Emira’s expression finally softened from the careful composure.

“I understand that you were a friend to Rhy and Kell in Asora?”

She was silent, listening, watching. But something in the way they interacted - Maxim, Emira, and Kell - that unsettled her. It had been so many years since Neria had seen and interacted with her own parents, but Irving had never looked at her the way the King and Queen looked at Kell.

But she remembered the look in her father's eyes when he handed her her belongings, her coat, her one pair of boots. The iciness, the distance. It wasn't the same, but it still did not feel right.

Slowly, she reached for the tea that she had not touched, the tips of her fingers testing the heat. She drew the teacup to her with care and sipped silently. Emira addressed her again. Neria set the cup down upon the saucer softly.

"Yes. I am." Present tense. She wished she could reach for Kell in that moment, to hold his hand. To assure him again. She did not.

Instead, Neria lifted her head somewhat, taking in the small changes upon Queen Emira's countenance. "I am very fortunate to have met the both of them. Kell saved my life once and Rhy was a bright light on our dreary traveling days." She tried for a smile that did not come. She only felt tired in remembering what had been.

Edited 2018-10-03 01:44 (UTC)

A change came over Emira then- like something pulling away from her, cracks at the edges of her composure. Her shoulders were set against some invisible weight, composed and still, but the darkness of her eyes told a different story. Someone under that sheen of frost. It was small, there and gone.

She dipped her head in a nod.

“You are welcome here, Neria Surana.”

It wasn’t a polite platitude, or a matter of ceremony.

The change struck her, even with how minimal it was. Both the King and Queen seemed curtained by something, every part of them cloistered away. She imagined, for a moment, wanting to see further, deeper--

And decided, quite pointedly, against it. But the Queen's words had a near immediate effect upon Neria: her lips parted briefly, eyes widening by a fraction. And then, she bowed once more, low, grateful. She closed her eyes and allowed just a sliver of relief to wash over her.

"Thank you, Your Grace." Genuine, heartfelt, no matter the strength Neria tried to exude. Slowly, she straightened once more, and there was a ghost of a smile at long last. "I appreciate your kindness."

Emira nodded, and finally lifted her teacup to take a drink, letting everyone's nerves settle. Though she didn't quite smile there was something far more settled about her, something less of a strung bow in the play of muscle in Maxim's shoulders.

Kell didn't reach for her, not in front of them. But he relaxed as she did, and beneath the table he settled his foot alongside hers, the side of his boot pressed against her own. Steady.

"Where's Rhy?" he asked. He could feel that he was close, somewhere in the castle, feeling the echoed slap of Kell's emotions. Stressed.

"Putting together the last of the preparations," Maxim answered. "Our guests are due to arrive before sundown." He paused, lifted his eyes to take Kell in. "You are still expected to be present."

"Yes," Kell answered, sighing heavily, and Emira frowned at him over the rim of her teacup -- a flicker of something long-worn and stern. Motherly.

"Sir," Kell added. "We will be there."

The touch even of Kell's boot beside her own brought her comfort enough. She turned her foot just slightly to tap it against his own, enough to provide her gratitude. And there it remained, against his own, leaning on his strength while her own rallied in the - at last - comfortable silence.

She took up her teacup again so she could drink. It hid the brief smile at Kell's long-winded sigh, and allowed her to gather herself so she could focus better.

That was right. Kell had told her about visitors and the Games.

"What, exactly, is the Essen Tasch?" she asked. That was what the guard called them last night. Finally, finally, she looked at Kell for a brief moment. "You told me a little...but not everything." She frowned. "I don't want to stand out, no matter where I am in Arnes." And yet she would, she realized, even as the words stood out. Kell had told her people would sense her power, know she was other. Her ears, too. Her gaze came back to the King and Queen. "If it would be more beneficial to you, I can make myself scarce. I know there are a great many people from elsewhere here and I recognize my appearance is nowhere near fortuitous." In truth, she was another problem. She had no trouble recognizing and putting a name to it. "I would do whatever would be most amenable to Your Grace - especially at such a time."

Neria had training in court, he knew, but it was different to see her in action. Strange, too, to see her use it on his family. While Kell could be formal with them (and often was) they were still the people he'd grown up with, and watching her put on the mask of courtly manners was... jarring. Strange.

Even if it was necessary, for now.

For the King and Queen this was old hat, and their most comfortable way of relating to others.

"The Essen Tasch is roughly translated to the Element Games," Maxim explained, in his low and steady voice. Kell's shoulders relaxed; it was a story he knew well. "It is a tradition borne of the end of the last Imperial War. The neighbors of Arnes are the empires of Vesk and Faro. The Games are meant as a practice of peace and friendship between our countries, a way to foster alliances and healthy rivalries."

Meant to be, perhaps, but Maxim was not giving voice to the obvious; that peace was clearly tenuous.

"The royal families of Arnes, Vesk and Faro do not often meet," Emira added. "While we are in communication with them through our emissaries, and our ports of trade are open, the lands are still very insular."

"They also provide a way for us to test each others' strength without true aggression." Maxim was more grave, folding his hands. His fingers held very old scars, the sort one would get from wielding a blade.

Kell set down his teacup, filling in the rest. "In practice, it is like a holiday. It lasts for five days and nights. The days are for the tournament fights, the nights are for the balls, for the celebrations held all over the city.

"The Games themselves are magic duels. Rhy can explain how it all works-" Kell shook his head, gesturing with one hand, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "He's the one in charge of hosting the Games this year."

Though Kell said it casually, it was a monumental bit of responsibility, and far from one to take lightly.

Maxim, thankfully, was not looking too critically at Kell for the moment. Instead he was looking Neria over.

"Kell mentioned your heritage, but you appear to be human."

"Rhy will be--" Hosting. There was a brief flicker of a smile, even as she turned it all over and pilfered through the information that was given. "I hope he is excited to do so." It sounded like a great privilege and one that would not be taken lightly. That is, until she remembered...

Rhy's eye. Rhy, hosting magic duels and grand balls, now sporting the eye of an Antari. Unconsciously, Neria brushed up against Kell's thoughts, as if seeking an opinion to a question she hadn't even properly asked, but then she was gone again. Kell needed his focus, as did she.

The rest of the information wasn't altogether surprising. Testing strength without aggression. Orlais did something similar, hosting grand jousts. The Marches did as well. But they weren't based in magic. She saw the threads Maxim and Emira painted for her without needing to go further. Celebrations of allies while taking great care to discover who was a threat and who needed to be watched.

It was cunning and clever. Her countenance was thoughtful and not one of reproach. She started to say something else, to comment on such a thing, when she noticed the King's eyes upon her.

Neria shifted somewhat, but not entirely uncomfortably. Slowly, she lifted her hands to tug back the pieces of her hair that she allowed to be long, pulling them aside so she could expose one pointed ear. "I've had a great deal of practice making myself seem human, Your Grace. Elves have very few differences in our physical traits from humans as well. Our eyes are different at night, noticeably so, for instance." She lowered her hair once more, smoothing it back into place. "They say that, once, we were a race predisposed to magic but if that was true, I'm afraid it is long gone." Carefully, she did not mention how it was humans who caused the great genocide of her race. "We are not a well loved people."

Kell's eyebrow twitched at the touch of her mind against his, but he did not push when he felt her reconsider and withdraw. The last thing they needed was to have to explain that connection to his parents when they invariably noticed that something was silently happening between them.

Instead, he listened to the way Neria explained what she was. It was still... strange to him. For all that it had effected her so deeply, for all that she saw herself as other, Kell very rarely thought of Neria as different. Even the elves of Aallotar had seemed different to him, but she never had.

He kept his foot where it was.

"Your race is not one that exists in this world," Maxim answered, his words measured. He did not know the history she hinted at, or what it meant to her. Emira, meanwhile, had lifted her eyes to Kell, who nodded, already anticipating her question.

"I can disguise you as a human," Kell pointed out. "It would be a simple illusion. I can have it ready before the royals arrive tonight."

Emira nodded, her brow creasing slightly in concern. "You say your kind are not predisposed to magic, but according to Kell, you wield powers on par with his own. Is that true?"

"I've heard that often, Your Grace. Almost everyone I have met from other worlds has told me so. I wonder if they never existed or if they existed so long ago that when they died out, there was no record of them." Her tone was level, polite, and only factual. Her expression never wavered. Though emotional to her, it was a rehearsed sort of discussion after having so many previously - with Damen, Law, Symon, Grell. Some worlds simply had humans populating them.

Briefly, she looked to Kell. Silence followed and, slowly, she dipped her head in a firm nod. "That would be best, I think. Better that I at least look...normal." She would not say she looked as if she belonged.

Neria reached for her teacup and drew it close, but did not drink before answering the Queen's question. It was difficult to know what to say. Being honest would likely only hurt both her and Kell, and in looking across at the King and Queen who held themselves so tightly, who very likely looked on her with some measure of fear already... She frowned, her thumb brushing over the rim of the cup. "The magic I have from my home pales in comparison to Kell's own," she answered truthfully. No Thedosian mage could compare to an Antari except, perhaps, a Magister using blood magic. "I learned other magic in Asora that allowed me to be stronger. At this point, Kell is likely still stronger than I am."

It wasn't a lie, even if Neria's truth came from a place still steeped in guilt and self-loathing, something that still told her she was weak for what had happened in Aallotar. For all the things she failed to do.

Normal, she said, as if she were somehow abnormal. But Kell had grown up with an eye that looked like a void in the world, the kind that most were too afraid to meet, and he knew what she meant. He kept his mouth shut.

"Strong enough to come here," Emira said softly. Gravely. She put her own cup down and watched Neria, a touch of tension in her brow -- but it was not something she was holding back, or hiding.

Neria meant to help them, and she was sincere in her feelings. Though they would not trust her implicitly, Kell's parents trusted her enough to believe she did not wish them harm, and would help them to close off the rifts that had allowed her to Travel.

"We will fix it," Kell said softly, but firmly. It was a tone of reassurance, and he sounded far older than he was. The crease in Emira's brow minutely smoothed, and she nodded.

"We understand you are a healer as well?" Maxim asked, steering them back to the course.

That wasn't strength to her. It was an ability, perhaps. Strength, to her, was the capability of circumventing great tragedy. When she thought of power, she thought of Kell on the battlefield. She thought of being able to save lives. Going from one world to another was a fluke, something she hadn't even been rightfully attempting.

But she did not argue. Kell assured the Queen of their goal. All Neria did was nod in agreement with him. There was no point disputing the fact.

And for the King, she provided another dip of her head. "I am, Your Grace." That was also a truth she would not deny.

As well as each element, and Travel.

The King and Queen exchanged a significant look, one that Kell understood, and felt his stomach clench at.

"Your abilities are not common ones," Emira explained, more gently now. "Not here." She paused, as if searching for the words, for how to explain, but Kell took it up without prevaricating.

"The visiting royals are all going to wonder why you don't have an Antari eye."

A mark of magic out of balance, and therefore, in some eyes, corrupted.

Her gaze fell upon the shared look between the royals, her hands tightening together in her lap. The explanations did not come easy for her, even if they were logical. A sharp canine bit down at the corner of her lip silently as she considered.

It was Kell whom she finally turned to. "What would be considered a common ability, then?" she asked quietly, her voice softer than it had been thus far. She maintained her posture, clinging to what little confidence she had, but she was treading into a place that was far too foreign for her. If she did not adapt, if the visitors suspected her of something strange, then no amount of hiding would shake them. Neria remembered Kell's warning from the night before. She would be seen as someone worth pursuing if it meant having handles on the crown here.

She considered, again, that it might be more useful for her to simply be scarce.

"Would they even be able to tell what I could do?"

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