Author: oddender, Posted: Wed May 3, 2017 10:52 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

As abruptly as the fire was extinguished, so seemed the warmth of the moment. Kuval felt it instantly, time stamped by his own flinch at the release of the fire, and hard pressed by the parting of their hands from each other.

Suddenly, everything felt cold…

Now Kuval had always been one to rush headfirst, lead by his eagerness and curiosities. That being said, he wasn’t a fool. He thought hard about things, weighed out pros and cons, and just often chose the adventure despite them. So he wasn’t completely oblivious to the workings of the mind or the heart.

Something was there… He could see it, fuzzy in the distance. Every time he spoke to Dorian was like lighting a candle in a dark room. The match sparked, threaten to bite, and finally came to rest as a single flame against the pitch. He was trying to find his way around, reading the clues carved into the candles, and searching for the boy.

The question was, when he found the witch, the real version of him hiding the darkness, how would he be? Inside his head, past the secrets, was there a cowering child? Or a monster, ready to attack? What was the truth? It was still too dark, so horribly dark that not even his good sight could possibly seem to help.

No matter what was there, he knew he couldn’t reach it right now. The moment, this moment that would stay in his head forever, was over… and he had to let it go if he wanted to continue to be around the witch. He took in the words spoke, even his name, and though he found himself enjoying the sound of it off his tongue he decided to keep moving.

He reached off to the side and grabbed his backpack, pulling it into his lap and undoing the clasps. If the man wanted distance, then he would make it clear that he was willing to give it. As he rumaged through the bag in search of his canteen, he spoke again, “Do you think I could learn magick? Is it possible for anyone? Or is it in you already?”

Kuval found the canteen and took a deep swig before he held it out in offering. It was ‘just water’, pure and simple, and yet as he held it out he felt like he was offering something more. Peace, maybe. Comfort. He meant the gesture to be almost a rebreaking of the ice so they could continue forward without Dorian feeling uncomfortable.

He’d come back to it later… If only for himself.

“I keep picking up stuff as a travel and I know some of it is good for magick, but I don’t know what I’m doing with any of it,” he continued, “Is that bad?”

Author: Dorian, Posted: Wed May 3, 2017 10:29 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

His lips parted and his eyebrows slowly raised when he heard him laugh. The sound was so pure and bright he half expected it to hurt him. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but what got him more than anything was that it made him feel at all. The grasp he held on his hand tightened slightly, but not painfully so, and he was urged to jerk away from the touch. Even though he’d been the one to initiate it. It was as if some great veil had been lifted from his eyes, showing him how close he’d allowed himself to physically become with a person when there was no promise of pleasure or some other darker arrangement.

And he didn’t like it, didn’t like how easy it had been, how he’d kept it going for so long. Then again, Kuval’s kind were known for their deadly lulls in security towards victims. That had to have something to do with it, even if it was subconsciously played out. It only seemed to pitch from hearing him say his name. How had he not said it by now? That showed even more the distance between them, and his stomach tightened from forgetting the briefness of which they’d actually known one another. And he was touching him.

Those eyes, such happy and eager eyes, he couldn’t look at them and instead returned his gaze to their fingers. Too much, it was too much at once and he closed his other hand: snuffing out the fire instantly and cutting out the light and warmth. Now it was just their hands held in cooling darkness, and he quickly let his go to rest both of his own palms against his knees.

The glow in his eyes was dying down and he sat back on the sand now; fingers moving up and gripping at the tie in his hair to give them something to do as his eyes moved to the waves. He just needed them somewhere else, “A simple cast, not without a past of blistered hands upon learning it.” Such marks had more than healed by now, but he remembered well that sting and bite of flames.

Though he was speaking directly to him, his tone had grown more distant, very unlike the soft intimacy he’d somehow been able to manage. Friendship was foreign to him, any bond to another was just completely…alien. Giving into it caused weakness, vulnerability, and he wasn’t either of those things. Best not to start now. He was suddenly very aware of where his violin case was, and he had the urge to reach out and touch it but didn’t want to bring attention to its presence. With a slow exhale through his nose, he turned his eyes back to him, only his eyes, and studied him.

Even knowing what he was, where he’d come from, and how he’d hardly ever had a reason to not trust a gift from Nyella, he couldn’t help but feel as if he were slowly sinking into a trap. His head turned the rest of the way to fully face him once more, his own gaze contemplative; eyebrows furrowed as if Kuval was some intricate puzzle to unlock, “Kuval.” It was spoken simply, not a call or question, he merely wanted to see how the word felt in his mouth. Not only had he never heard the other say his name, he in turn had not once uttered the other’s. He liked it. He hated that.

Author: oddender, Posted: Wed May 3, 2017 10:02 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

Kuval swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as he felt Dorian began to shift. His lips parted and, in an attempt to keep out any shake, he bit down on the bottom one, however this did nothing to steady the light shake in his hands as he make sure not to move them. Stable as they were in this positioning, he couldn’t keep out the light shake of anticipation.

The sensation that crawled up his skin was not what he expected. It wasn’t the harsh, searing pain that he’d come to recognize as burns. No, this was an almost chilling feeling unlike any he’d felt before. He imagined holding a block of eyes, but even that didn’t seem the right description.

When Dorian’s eyes moved away, he finally allowed his own to do the same. Slowly they traveled down to see the flame bouncing almost playfully along their skin. For a moment all the sea creature could do was stare, the burning glow flickering against the darkness of his wide eyes.

And then, all at once, he laughed. The sound burst from him quietly like an air pocket finally at the surface of water. It was one of relief, that was definitely, but it was also a sound of pure happiness and awe. Despite his fear, as fear did remain somewhere in the back of his mind, Kuval found himself lost in the joy of this sensation. It felt as if Dorian had given him a chance to experience it, really experience it. He’d put armor on the Syreni, protecting him against this instance of pain.

The smile on his face was bright and true as he looked up into Dorian’s eyes and then down again at the flames, a child transfixed on their prize. The shake dwindled down for now, leaving him instead with unabashed curiosity, “H-How are you doing that? How’d you do that, Dorian??”

Author: Dorian, Posted: Wed May 3, 2017 9:39 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

He searched his eyes a brief moment longer before nodding. All the while he kept his eyes on Kuval’s, even if the other man’s were to turn away. His face, he wanted to see it, watch it. Despite trust he expected fear and he’d relish in that fear. More so, not just the fear itself, but the fact that he’d allow him to do such a thing despite being afraid. Bravery can’t exist without first having fear towards the thing you were going up against after all. It weeded out the average from the extraordinary. With that thought in mind, he slowly pulled Kuval’s fingers towards the flame, gripping his palm in anticipation of him trying to tug away.

As his fingers were brought in with the fire, his lips quietly moved to spread the safety to him: to help him become one with the element as he was able to do. This would be temporary, only while he was touching him, but at least it would allow him the experience. Their fingers stayed together in the fire: his holding his hand, Kuval’s resting as they may, and the indescribable cold of the heat from such safety licked up their skin. It was then and only then that he moved his eyes down to look at their joined hands, watching as flames moved against them but did no harm.

His voice quieted even more, barely heard above the smothering crack and shift of burning driftwood behind him, “Though I wouldn’t suggest doing this if I wasn’t here to aid in it…Or any other individual who held the same ability.” Held the ability, he wasn’t sure that was the proper way to define what he was doing since all he did was cast at the moment of use. Some power he kept in himself and no longer needed a casting to do, but this was not one of them. Not with fire.

“Are you afraid?” Just his eyes lifted up to his, their turquoise hue glowing from the momentary burst of power, though one could just as easily take it as a trick of the light from being so close to flames. For some reason he was yet to comprehend, he didn’t want this phobia to last. He wasn’t foolish enough to think a simple touch into fire was enough to cure such a fear, but the strength with which he wanted him to overcome this went further than his usual irritation. Oh it was still there as was common for him, but it was instead likened to someone for whom you had great expectations. Strange…

Author: oddender, Posted: Tue May 2, 2017 12:07 AM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

If Kuval’s mind hadn’t been wrapped up in trying to stay calm around his fear, he might have marveled in the conversation. It would be something he looked back on, later. It was strangely wise, comforting, and more words that he’d ever heard the witch put together without being further prompted.

As the man approached, Kuval moved his hands up to tangle the mesh of hair into a loose bun near the back of his head, his eyes on the approaching orb of flames. As his wrist was taken, his eyes were brought back up to Dorian’s.

There really was something, wasn’t there? Something strange between them. Were their fates intertwined so firmly that it created this… this intensity so quickly? Or was it simply his naivety, playing him for a young fool.

No matter the cause, as they held eyes a minute longer Kuval felt his breathing slowly steady out. As directed, he didn’t move or tug away even as he became increasingly away of the heat coming from the orb.

As Dorian spoke again, Kuval realized that he believed the words. He hadn’t pegged the witch as one for dishonesty, exactly, but it was still a comfort to hear the promise spoken so solidly in a moment such as this. And with that being said, the next words that came from the man made their way down into his chest where they would reside for longer than either of them could know.

I’m really not weak… Kuval thought to himself. He knew this already, but knowing something and hearing it have two different affects on a person. Already the strength to be still had been inside him, but the words were a comfort and, more over, having someone try to bring him peace did more for him than if Dorian’s actions actually did work.

“I believe you,” he said softly, as much an affirmation as permission to move forward. Despite this, he didn’t move his eyes from Dorian’s. Locked there, it felt strangely safe. Protected, even. In this moment, he really did believe the witch meant to keep him safe. “Let’s do it…”

Author: Dorian, Posted: Mon May 1, 2017 11:46 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

He chuckled, eyes moving down to the seductive flames. While he would always view it as the opposition to the element he held so dear, he still felt a kinship towards it. As annoying as it was to admit, he shared many characteristics with it and slowly curled his fingers in enough to let them brush along the shifting orb of its base. “Well, you’re half right…” His eyes lifted back up to meet Kuval’s, “It certainly can consume a spear. Just be sure to have one that’s stronger.” His eyebrows rose once, quickly.

“You’ve been on land long enough to know that us surface dwellers have to find ways around many dangers, take the good with the bad. You deal with it beneath the waves I’m sure.” His head tilted, returning his gaze down to the flames with a rare adoring look. “Everything has the power to consume, you just need to realize that there’s always a bigger fish. I could snuff out this dangerous element with the flick of my tongue if I wanted to.” He breathed in deeply, eyes closing, and slowly exhaled before returning his focus to Kuval with much calmer eyes,

“If you do trust me, then stay still.” Giving him a moment to make that decision, he moved towards him with a stretch of his long legs against the sand until he was sitting on his knees in front of him. The heat bloomed out between them and he welcomed the feeling against his bare chest. He watched as Kuval pulled his hair back. No doubt he was doing so to keep any stray strands safe from burning up in a hungry flame. When he was finished, he moved out his free hand and gripped the other’s wrist; his thumb resting in the curve at his palm. “Stay still.” Those words were firm, but not unkind.

His eyes searched his, letting a moment of silence linger between the two of them. Somehow just holding his wrist and hand like this with fire burning between them held more intimacy than he’d felt with him or any other individual before. And the man had been inside of him already. “Seeing as the fates are stubbornly crossing our paths, you’re going to learn many things about me. But if there’s one thing you should take to heart it’s this,” His eyes narrowed, contemplating his next words very carefully, “I don’t waste time on dishonesty.” Which was very true: he had no reason to lie. Omit things? Yes. But in life he found it easier to keep a truthful tongue. It made threats all the more real whenever they were doled out.

“And I don’t waste time on the weak.” His eyes narrowed to near slits before returning to normal; a single eyebrow arching, “You are not weak. So believe and trust me when I say that I’m going to pull your fingers into the flames and they won’t hurt you.” This man before him was the pinnacle of strength, a beautiful blend of land and sea, and he wouldn’t stand for him being fearful of an element he could easily kill.

Author: oddender, Posted: Mon May 1, 2017 11:11 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

Seventeen, Kuval turned the number over and over in his head. The person who had taught him said that most learned it as a child… The mystery of him only seemed to grow stronger, but now didn’t seem the time to ask such a thing. Instead he smiled and replied, “Mine is no better. I’ve been writing less than two years.”

He turned his head to look over at the witch, catching the tail end of his gaze. His own smile shifted into a soft smirk. Though he didn’t feel in any position to be able to feed into that lust, he still found himself oddly satisfied that it was still there. Maybe before they parted ways… No, hopefully definitely before.

But then Dorian was bringing his attention back to the fire, tugging away at the comfort he had managed to build. Kuval sat up a little straighter from his casual position, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap as the man spoke.

Of course, many thought that his fear of fire was silly. Just as Dorian spoke, he knew he had the capabilities to defend himself, but, “If you throw a spear into fire, the fire just eats it.”

Not only was there pain, there was pure and rapid destruction. It had the capability to render things completely gone, with barely a trace, in a matter of minutes. He didn’t want to be a victim of such power and honestly, he was surprised he didn’t have more scars from the last time he’d interacted with the stuff.

He watched with caution as Dorian moved toward the flames, his eyes widening as the witch somehow managed to take a piece of it away. Kuval felt his breathing pick up and tried to scold it into being steady again, but nothing seemed to come of his tries. Instead he gripped his own ankles and tore his eyes away from the flames to meet the man’s.

Do you trust me with it? He’d asked.

The truth was, Kuval didn’t know if he could trust Dorian. Not only was he practically a complete stranger, but he was a stranger who was prone to violence. So far, he hadn’t really given him much reason to trust… but likewise, in the eyes of a Syreni, he hadn’t given him much not to trust either.

He hesitated, keeping their eyes locked. There was fear there. Fear for himself, unneeded fear for Dorian… but fear was useless and suffocating. He hated that it was even there. Whether or not he trusted the witch was practically irrelevant at the moment. The fire was a risk, a test of his own strength of mind.

Finally he spoke up, “What did you have in mind…?”

Author: Dorian, Posted: Mon May 1, 2017 10:51 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

“Hm.” The corner of his lips barely upturned in a smirk, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. And then they halved as he sighed, “I only learned the skill when I was nearing seventeen.” Not that Kuval could have known that, and there was hardly any true irritation in his tone. It was more a sigh if anything else. Needless to say he tended to be a perfectionist in most things, and writing simply was not one of the skills he’d mastered. Thankfully it didn’t have to be pretty, just legible, and Kuval’s presence meant that it had been good enough.

Days had passed since he’d last seen him, and he allowed himself to give him a slow once over. Memory of him hadn’t done justice to the real living thing before him. Sand clung to his clothing and skin in a teasing way. He wanted to know what it felt like to touch along the grains, to feel that contrast of roughness with soft flesh. Flesh that he knew the taste of. No, best not to start down that trail of thought, especially not while in such a vulnerable setting. Speaking of which, it was now that he realized how far away he was. Kuval wasn’t like him, he wasn’t repulsed by the idea of physical contact, so what was it?

His eyebrows furrowed, taking note of his eyes whenever the fire cracked, how his toes stayed safe and pulled in. Fire. His lips parted at the realization, surprise hit him first, soon followed by amusement. Why in the world should a creature of the water fear fire? Then he remembered how brief his time on land had been and knew the many ways you could learn the hardships of that fickle element. “You don’t like fire?” He arched an eyebrow, the smirk returning, wide enough to show teeth. “With what I’ve seen you do it comes as a surprise.”

He directed his eyes back to the great blaze before him and moved closer, though he left his violin case back at a safe distance. Rising up on one knee, he knelt before it and slowly moved his hand towards it. The heat licked eagerly towards his skin and he gently whispered. An orb of fire danced quickly towards his palm and stayed there; alive and flickering in his palm as he sat back down and turned towards him. The ball of fire kept its nestled spot in the curve of his palm, the orange glow a surreal contrast against his blue markings and eyes. Those eyes were now focused mischievously on Kuval, “You’ve had a bad run it, that much is obvious…Do you trust me with it?”

Author: oddender, Posted: Mon May 1, 2017 12:16 AM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

Hearing the man’s voice only made him smile more. Just as he had hoped, the word was an invitation. The witch, perhaps despite himself, seemed pleased to see him and that only made Kuval all the happier. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled the sopping bag off his back to drop to the ground as he sat down, as far from the fire as he could get while still close enough to speak.

“It’s usually easy enough to match written words to words on a map, at least,” he said with a nod, subconsciously pulling his feet up and away from the flames that everyone else seemed to be enjoying, “Then again, your handwriting is terrible. I was starting to second guess the match.”

The sounds of people beyond this bonfire continued on, happily partying, unaware and uncaring of the brief connection felt on the beach nearby. Kuval enjoyed the way the witch looked at him, in this form and the other, as if he enjoyed his presence… He’d been around many people, most of which didn’t give him such a feeling. It was stranger still considering the darkness within the witch, considering how much the sea creature loved the light…

But still, everything to balance. With death there is life, with darkness there is light. Maybe that’s why they’d connected again. Maybe Dorian was meant to help him with the darkness, just as he was meant to help with the light? It was an interesting though, if nothing else.

As he took up his spot as comfortably far as he could, he chose not to speak again yet. There was a certain peace he felt in the meeting, even without words. After all, many things could have gone wrong. He’d been to many places, traveled by ocean, and still somehow managed to be on this beach at the same time as the one before him.

Whatever brought them together, whatever needs they may have for each other, it seemed like it was meant to happen. Having that meant for him, that alone, was enough to make him happy right now. He was content to sit and watch the stars, what he could see of them in this place, or maybe Dorian would pick up his instrument again and play… Yes, that would be perfect.

Author: Dorian, Posted: Sun Apr 30, 2017 11:54 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

His muscles were sore as he rested in the warm sand. The heat of the day still lingered on each grain, and his own blazing fire only aided in that. Thankfully no one had stayed at his fire long enough for him to need to make a threat. It was much harder here in Egjora, and was one of the reasons he preferred his home in Vilpamolan: organized chaos was much easier for him to live in. With his abilities and low stature from birth he knew he, along with other ‘undesirables’ were ripe for snatching up into slavery. Thus far that had yet to occur and a nasty hex would befall anyone that tried anyhow.

It was his second night on the shore and he was still playing with the idea of staying longer than necessary. His rituals had been performed, coin exchanged to him for certain…dealings, and now it seemed the only thing that tethered him was curiosity that had yet to fade. He’d written the name of this place down as clearly as he could back in Kurayo, but doubted the other man would actually find his way here. Or at least, he may have already done so and missed him entirely. Such was life and he tried not to dwell on it for too long. Tried not to feel disappointment.

He pulled his pack around in front of him and undid the buckles and spell work there that kept it safe and pulled out a tin box. His other hand touched along the weathered violin case at his side, assuring himself that it was safely with him. Water and wine. He opened the tin and pulled out a scarf wrapped deck of cards, already knowing the one on top since he’d placed it there. With just his hand resting on the smooth cloth he could feel the buzz of energy: it was calling to him, still perfectly satisfied with itself. “Yes, except you were wrong this time…” The corner of his lips turned up in a smug smile, but the buzz never dwindled.

Placing it back in the box, he closed and sealed it and returned it to his pack. It’d be time to sleep soon, but he at least wanted to wait for some of the other fires to go out. There were too many people here, to many others his age that assumed their youth bound them for some reason. Fortunately many of them were so intoxicated on the sands at this hour that he hardly had to do much to get them to leave. Too many rules: he should have just been permitted to snap their clothes into flame or politely lead them away via fistful of hair.

If his darker clothes weren’t a giveaway that he didn’t belong here, the glow on his skin and in his eyes definitely were. In a brief moment of comradery he actually hoped Kuval hadn’t come here. The concern was short lived, but still there. He was so green to the ways of the world that he could only imagine the trouble he’d get himself into here. His eyes closed with a laugh, horrible or not it’d be funny. Not just because of the shock and fear on his face, but that he was unable to picture a single guard here being able to stop that deadly force.  He’ll be fine.

His eyes opened, moving down to the violin case before pulling it into his lap. It was a tool, his strongest one at that, but sometimes he just enjoyed touching it, playing it for reasons other than magick. One couldn’t do that here where any music was seen as an automatic invitation. Should he stay here longer then he made up his mind that he’d move further down away from prying eyes and curious gazes. His shoulders tensed when he heard the unmistakable shift of sand: someone walking towards him. Jaw locking, he rested the case back into the sand but on the other side of him now, away from this outsider.

Which this time? A pleasing emotional glamour would likely be the easiest, at least then he didn’t have to hold his tongue: they’d take anything he said as sweet words. Resigning himself to yet another unwanted conversation, he turned his head in their direction. And his heart lurched. Had he not known better he would have thought he heard a chuckle coming from his deck’s case. It had been days, no, weeks at least since they’d seen each other. Kuval was not limited to the land like he himself was. The odds of him coming on the shores while he was still there were at least a thousand to one. Even he was unable to hide the shock on his face; eyes wide and lips parted.

Despite everything, Kuval was smiling. Smiling like he always seemed to be smiling. It stirred something he couldn’t quite put his finger on and he looked away from him into the flames; mind racing. All that was left to do was laugh, and a soft one escaped; intermingling with the cracks and pops of the great fire before him. Its flames danced faster with his laughter, and he looked over at him again, “So you are able to read.” His eyes moved from his face, watching the water run down his skin, imagining it red and warm…wanting to be reminded of that scent of blood he’d had that night so many nights ago.

Water weighed down his clothing and his bottom lip just barely pulled under his teeth at the sight of those deep cuts at his hips. Not wanting to get too caught up in the visuals, he averted his eyes back up to his face and arched an eyebrow; the smile shifting to a smirk, “Smiling. Again.” While it was usually annoying to be around someone that kept such a happy face, it was different with this one. He chalked it up to knowing how deadly he truly was despite that smile.

Author: oddender, Posted: Sun Apr 30, 2017 11:14 PM, Post Subject: Your Handwriting is Terrible [P][R]

(( OOC: I have permission for the placement and slight godmode of Dorian! ))

Right away, Kuval knew that he didn’t like it here. There was more noise on the beach than he was used to, more going on…. More fire. Many of the beaches he’d been to had their own travelers and patrons who sat on the cold sand and warmed themselves with that blasted fire, but never had he seen them so large or high as this place.

Egjora. That’s what the paper had said. It was plan and simple. It could have easily been a trap, and he knew it… but the it was the witch and, well, Kuval wanted to see him. If he was here. It could have meant anything, couldn’t it? If not a meet up, not a trap, then it could have just as easily been to send him further away. Or even send him toward something he might like? It could have been anything, but it was guaranteed to be one thing: adventure.

In the end, that’s what had urged Kuval to follow it. Egjora simply meant that to him, an adventure waiting to happen. He’d never been there, barely knew anything about it. It was an island, easy enough to see on the map, and those were often his favorite places because he was never truly far from home. Misu, too, was happy to have him so close to the edges of islands.

That being noted, he still found himself lingering in the water longer than he should. The sun was long down by the time he arrived and the bonfires were raging. He rested atop Misu as if she were a large stone in the ocean, his own personal island. He didn’t always let her get this close, but in the dead of night it was easier for her massive shadow not to be seen and she always insisted on coming as close as she could.

With just his eyes out the water, Kuval tried to convince himself to go up. There weren’t many things he feared in the long run. Drying out was on obvious one that he desperately avoided after the last fiasco. Bird, he hated to admit, also gave him pause. He’d seen them deftly snatch fish on more than one occasion and he knew, no matter how much he hated to be called it, he might well be considered a very large fish in their eyes. The last thing he wanted was to be snatched from the ocean and dropped against the very stones he loved to bathe on.

But above even birds was his hatred of fire. When he’d first seen the stuff, it had been fascinating. It was beautiful, the way it danced against the night sky. He’d wanted it for himself and, simply put, been left with a lot of healing to do in the after math. He felt foolish to this day and tried hard to avoid it…

But there was Egjora, a much larger trip than his last. He’d come all this way and turning back would be against him in more ways than one. Not to mention that, with luck, the witch would be here. Though he hadn’t met the man but twice, he found himself being pulled to him constantly. Maybe it was that he never knew what would happen… The man was a walking adventure that Kuval had every desire of partaking in.

With a sigh he finally dipped back into the water and swam the ways down to find what would be called Misu’s face. Gently he rested his forehead against her, his body lost between her massive eyes. It was a sign of trust that she even let him so close, much less that she encouraged such a touch. With another hated goodbye, he finally turned away from her and swam to the shore.

So many fires had been started that Kuval could swear the water itself was warmer near the shore and he swam along the coast in search of the safest space. It was in this search that he first saw the witch… He was stretched out in front of his own fire, one knee up as he seemed to casually enjoy the destruction of it.

Kuval smiled happily, baring the sharp teeth that had once been in that skin, and watched him for a moment. It was interesting to see him clothed, even if it was only his lower half. From here he could see that his magick had returned, lighting up the marks along his body. The flickers of the flames played against them, casting shadows that only made their shine more beautiful. He had the galaxies on his shoulders, the constellations on his skin, and the scars of Syreni teeth…

Desire overtook him again. He wanted to be up on shore, to be near him, almost more than he was afraid of the bonfire. Still, his eyes flickered at the other people on the beach. With almost distaste, he began the process of turning human here in the water. It felt strange, to say the least, to be submerged with legs instead, but he didn’t feel he had a choice in the matter. He didn’t want anyone else to know him for what he was.

Though he left his small boat with his things at sea with Misu, covered haphazardly like uninteresting driftwood, he’d brought his bag with him into the water. With difficulty, he managed to pull pants over fumbling legs and was finally able to turn his attention excitedly back to his purpose on Egjora.

Dorian.

He swam forward eagerly until his feet found sand and trudged forward out of the ocean as if he’d walked the bottom of the sea in search of this man. Water rolled off of him like small rivers, trying to drag his pack and pants from his body. The sodden material clung low on his hips and gathered sand near his feet as he walked toward him without pause, the smile never leaving his eager face.