Cyran kept his footsteps light as he moved across the forest floor, mindful of the foliage and branches that had accumulated. Even though everything was quiet, with only the sounds of animals to keep him company, his senses were on high alert, wary of anything that might pop out of the trees. He had been wandering alone for a while now- though he’d lost track of how long- with only his dagger and his wits to keep him company. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but the sun was beginning to set, and he would need to find somewhere to rest soon if he wanted to take stock and figure out a plan.

"Lost?"

The voice which calls out to the traveling elf is cold; it's all too similar to the chill of an evening breeze. From the shadows of the branches above, his black cloak with an internal red trim buffets in the breeze, sits a man with pale skin and paler eyes; he peers down at him with a mild bemusement. Out here, beneath the shade, he doesn't need to concern himself as much with hiding from the sun; his hood is draped leisurely over his shoulders, one leg crossed over the other as he sits up in the shade of the Moonglade's many trees.

Loitering on a thick branch.

"Or, is it that you're looking for something?"

Despite his odd position, the stranger in the tree is unarmed; both hands are visible, one resting against his thigh, the other curled beneath his chin as he peers down at the elf. His body language appears more relaxed than hostile in the moment; and in all honesty, it was absolute chance that the man was crossing beneath his spot for the night... and he looked so serious, that he just couldn't resist giving him a little spook in the drifting twilight.

Although he had his eyes peeled on his surroundings, Cyran still jumps at the sudden sound. Although he had been watching the ground, he hadn’t considered that someone would come from above. He searches his surroundings for the source of the sound until he spots the stranger perched on a branch above.

Immediately, Cyran assesses the situation, taking in the stranger’s relaxed posture and lack of visible weapon. That doesn’t make him any less dangerous- in Cyran’s opinion, those who appear unarmed aren’t any less dangerous. Still, the stranger had ample opportunity to attack, and had yet to do so.

Cyran forces himself to relax, his own dagger feeling rather small in his hand.

“A little bit of both, I’m ashamed to admit.” Cyran says honestly, manners kicking in out of habit, though there’s a guarded edge to his voice as he watches the newcomer, trying to assess his intentions.

“I don’t suppose I could bother you for directions?”

Caedes stifles a bemused smile at the traveler's jump; and then his extremely honest, but guarded answer that he's technically looking for both. "Oh? That must be why you look so serious." He looks away from the stranger and leisurely towards the trunk of the tree; the light refracts oddly off a small portion of it, where Charlotte has been snoozing for the past few hours. One of her eight legs twitches slightly, curling beneath her as she starts to drift awake.

Carefully, so as not to wake the arachnid further, he sits up; the man swings his legs over the branch, using his palms to stabilize himself as he looks down at him. He swings his feet in a manner that's almost playful, his cloak swaying slightly with the motion.

"Directions? Very possibly... Where are you heading to, stranger?"

His intentions are primarily unclear thus far; there's an eeriness to the man, despite the soft smile on his face. It could be his dress— the way he's donned in gloomy grays and blacks; or it could be that he's sitting in the middle of the forest with no clear reason as to why, calling out to a lost traveler.

Cyran watches the stranger’s fluid movements with an odd sort of fascination, surprised at the ease with which the stranger moves, not so much as disturbing the branch or its occupants. Cyran knows he’s being toyed with in some manner, though he can’t quite pinpoint how. But there’s something in that smile that keeps Cyran on edge, despite the man’s seemingly easygoing nature thus far.

Cyran tilts his head to the side, thinking over his words carefully. Aimless wandering had left him disoriented, and he’s not sure how close he is to a city, but the stranger might now. “I’m looking for a place to spend the night. If you could point me in the direction of the nearest village, that would be much appreciated.”

He stops and considers the stranger again. Perhaps he shouldn’t ask, but this is the first he’s had any manner of civil conversation in a long time. Despite the unease, he can’t help but be curious.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt the business that brought you out here, whatever that may be.”

"Ah, a place to spend the night..." he remarks, still swinging his feet; he hums and looks lackadaisically towards the trunk of the tree nearby. A refraction of light peels back from the black widow, revealing its plump form. "I'm not sure you'll get there before nightfall, honestly. Moonveil Village's about a few hours..." he trails off, looking over his shoulder. He points, and looks back at the stranger with a smile. "...that way."

"I'm actually heading there, myself."

As he swings his legs out one more time, Caedes jumps from the branch; he lands with a fairly hefty thud in the foliage, thumbs hooked in the gap of his belt. "You caught me just between towns, actually; but it's getting late, and Moonveil Village is... still a ways off." He looks towards the tree over his shoulder, watching Charlotte creep down after him; she is a loyal familiar.

He looks back to the man.

"I was just stopping to rest, actually; but, I could escort you to the village. Safer in greater numbers, and all that."

"I wouldn't want to impose..." Cyran starts, trailing off as he realizes he has no arguments for why they shouldn't go together if they're both going in the same direction. Besides, the stranger is right- there is safety in numbers, especially when you can keep an eye on those that you're wary of. His arm holding the dagger relaxes somewhat, looking in the direction that the stranger pointed. It looks the same as the rest of the surrounding landscape, thick with overgrowth that looks gloomy in the dying light. He's never been to Moonveil Village, but it's his safest bet right now.

"Then we shouldn't waste any time."

Wary of the arachnid following closely behind the stranger, Cyran sets off in the direction he was given, twigs and leaves crunching under his boots. The evening chill is setting in, and he doesn't want to get caught unaware by anything that might lurk around here when the sun sets, even with an escort.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Cyran turns around, glancing back at the stranger. If they're going to be spending time together, then it doesn't make sense not to introduce himself. "My name is Cyran. Thank you for your help. I'm not the most familiar with this area, so I probably would have been wandering around forever if you hadn't found me."

Caedes reaches out towards the tree, looking from the corner of one eye at the stranger as the black widow crawls up onto his arm like a loyal pet. “No imposition.” he assures the young man— or, at least, he looks young— but then again, he appears to be an elf. He feels the weight of the spider shift as it slips into the crook of his draping hood, folding its legs beneath itself, and making a gentle clicking behind his head with its fangs.

“Mm.” he agrees in a simple hum; he holds his hands together behind his back, crunching through the foliage underfoot as he follows the traveler.

He smiles politely as the man suddenly turns to glance at him— introducing himself as they walk. “Cyran?” he repeats, nodding to him in greeting. “You’re most welcome; though, it was luck that you wandered into me out of the entire forest.” He takes a moment to adjust the shoulders of his cloak as he walks; the weight of the widow is weighing it back. “My name is Caedes; the spider is Charlotte. She doesn’t bite, so don’t mind her; you say you’re not from Moonveil, then where are you from, Cyran?”

He looks to the man as he steps over a branch in his path. “Have you traveled far to get here?”

Cyran watches the spider's movements until it disappears into the cloak's hood, deciding he would take Caedes at his word. Charlotte does seem like a rather intelligent creature. "A lovely name." He replies politely, settling back into his stride as he walks, a little more confidence in his gait. He keeps his eyes peeled in front of them, watching for any other threats that might still be lurking.

"If Eclipse City can be considered far." He responds, tone deliberately even. "I've never had the opportunity to travel until now. You can see how well that's turned out for me." He gestures to himself, fine dark clothes covered in scratches and dirt that speaks of weeks of rough, hasty travel.

"And yourself?" Although Caedes is obviously much more knowledgeable than Cyran about the forest and surrounding area, he doesn't look like he's from Moonveil Village, either.

“Thank you,” he remarks with a smile over his shoulder; he keeps his gait even, listening to the natural sounds of the forest as they crunch past the undergrowth together, towards Moonveil’s Village. “Eclipse City?” he repeats, his voice holding a slight curiosity to it. “I’ve heard Eclipse City is a beautiful place, but I’ve never had the pleasure to visit.”

That is a lie; he’s been to Eclipse City quite a few times, for numerous reasons.

Cyran does not seem much like a traveler; his clothes are fine despite the clear wear and tear of travel. “I am from Sky Peak, in the Dragon’s Cradle.” he answers, once again quite untruthfully. “It has been a long journey, but it’s almost come to an end; Moonveil Village has... some poultices and medicine, that I'm hoping to purchase. Tell me, what is your reason for finally leaving Eclipse City? You’ve been there your entire life?”

Cyran wasn’t sure how much he should share with a man who was virtually a stranger to him. He had no choice but to trust Caedes to lead him to Moonveil Village unharmed. His secrets were different matter.


A horrible thought occurred to him. Had Caedes been sent here on behalf of Cyran’s parents? They sent him away not too long ago with threats that he could never return to his old home on pain of death, but there was a chance that wasn’t good enough for them. Caedes clearly possessed the skills to sneak up on Cyran, and if he hadn’t announced his presence, Cyran would never have known he was there. Not to mention that the man didn’t seem to be entirely truthful about his place of origin…


Cyran forced himself to relax. They had made it this far without Caedes trying anything. If he was here to kill Cyran, then it was only his own fault for letting his guard down. “I’ve done some travel, though nothing much more than to Crescent Island and back.” That had been for business. Admittedly, while being groomed to take over the family’s business forced him to become cold and cutthroat in some ways, it left him sheltered in others.


“Eclipse City is a city full of people who would readily stab one another in the back for nothing more than a couple of coins. I’m sure there are good honest folk there, but you’re honestly better off not visiting. The Dragon’s Cradle sounds interesting, though. Is it worth a visit?”

Cyran is quiet.

Too quiet, for a time; and after a moment of silence, Caedes glances over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, the smile on his face weak. For a brief moment, the elven man seems distracted, or perhaps deep in thought— but after a moment, he looks like he starts to ease. “To Crescent Isle?” he remarks, his smile turning friendly. “I’ve never been. I hear it’s unique; a place unlike any other on Charon.” he feigns a curiosity in his voice as he pries the man with idle small talk.

His description of Eclipse City is… well, it’s interesting. There’s emotion in the way he says it, he thinks; the kind of emotion that only a man who’d been stabbed in the back or had stabbed in the back for a couple of coins would put forth. Still, he blinks slowly at him, and feigns some disappointment as he turns his head. “Ah, I see… Strangely enough, I’ve heard it’s quite a calm little place, nestled in the Moon Glade… what makes it so cutthroat? I couldn't imagine a place like the Moon Glade to have such a reputation.” he inquires, before hesitating slightly.

He laughs, after a moment. “That depends: how much do you like unpredictable weather, endless storms, and sulfur pits?” he asks in turn. “Dragon’s Cradle is… a rough place to live, but it’s home, so…” he trails off, pale eyes drifting towards the limbs of the trees. “So, I suppose I have a certain fondness for it, despite all of its rough edges… It doesn’t hurt to visit, I suppose… but it’s best to use caution if you do. It’s not so much people that you need to look out for there.”