Zarius watches Kvasir pursue the young tiefling out of the corner of his eye until they're out of sight. He sighs. Nothing could ever be simple, could it? He turns his attention back on the woman before him. She seemed conflicted and even shed a tear at the situation. He considers letting her slip away silently. He considers calling her a coward. He considers much darker options. 

"If you are upset enough to cry then you should apologize and explain your actions instead of running away." He states simply. 

He wasn't upset. He hardly cared she just cast a spell on him. In fact, he was slightly excited that she had and nothing had happened. He clearly remembers the searing pain of the divine light that Veliky had used against him. Being safe from ever having to relive that pain from another who had celestial ties was a major confidence boost. Not that he needed his ego to get any larger at this point.

"Just give them a few minutes. That boy seemed lost and overwhelmed, but Kvasir knows how to help people in a panic."

Eyeing the woman again, she didn't appear to too heavily armored or armed aside from the spear. Clearly she had some magic, so he couldn't completely say she wasn't a threat. At least not to others. Still, her behavior suggested that she realized that she made a mistake and she had said some curious things earlier. 

"What did you mean by 'dead celestial' earlier? I can assure you that Kvasir is very much not an undead. Perhaps we can smooth things over if you explain things to me."^[1]

The offer was phrased in a way that seemed like a sincere attempt to help, but really he was just trying to use this as an excuse for a subtle interrogation. Who was she? Why did she think it was a good idea to attack him in broad daylight? What did she know about Kvasir that he didn't? He wanted to know if she was going to be someone he needed to keep tabs on moving forward or not, and also if Kvasir was hiding something.

---

[1] Smooth Talking

Nyr doesn’t hear it when footsteps chase after him through the sand, he doesn’t hear the voice calling out to him at all. All he can hear is the rushing of blood in his own ears, the rapid beating of his heart, the panic in his veins urging him further, further. Go faster. You need to keep running. Keep running and never look back-

No matter how fast he tries to run, he’s just a boy, not even one particularly used to physical activity, and he is very, very easy to catch. There’s a shriek that catches in his throat when a figure slides out in front of his path and Nyr stops in his tracks. The tiefling flinches back at the sight of another person, his mind racing with thoughts of no, no no no, his father had finally caught up to him- His father was here–


But his father had never spoken to him in such a gentle voice before.

He falters, staring at the figure in front of him. It takes a moment, but the fuzzy white world around him just… shifts. It changes from the white snow of the Frost Gale to the sands of Zeinav once again, and the biting chill shifts back to burning heat.

That- This was… Not his father standing in front of him. This was… That alchemist? Wasn’t it? He was speaking, but Nyr could not put together the meaning of his words at first. He seems to be asking Nyr to breathe, and the boy does try, though at first his breathing remains harsh and panicked, air filling his lungs rapidly and leaving it just as quickly in stuttering pants.

Holding his breath isn’t easy at first, it doesn’t even feel possible. But he tries, sucking in a desperate lungfull. He holds onto that breath for as long as he can. But. It isn’t very long at all. He tries again. And again. And slowly, ever so slowly. It gets easier to hold it in, just for a few extra seconds. Then he can let it out just as slowly, and bring it back in to hold it once again.

Nyr stares at the older man, shaking, frightened, but finally in control of his breath again. Some of the tension has bled out of him with every measured exhale, though he still looks just as shaken as he feels.

“I… I’m s-so sorry… I hadn’t m-me-meant to- You di-didn’t n-need to chase me…” He stutters out, stumbling over the words despite how earnest his apology is. “I’m sorry… I d-don't know what... What came o-over me.”

The change is not immediate-- such things never are, in the tempest of panic, but through the wild storm raging in this boy's eyes, Kvasir can see him fighting to force his way through rain and wind and cloud, fighting to find that bastion with each laborious breath. He keeps a careful eye on the stranger as he fights through the cycle, doing what he can to follow the instructions he's been given, a little surge of relief jolting through him as the young man's breathing starts to even out into something a little more stable.

There's still fear in those eyes, the look of a rabbit who's only narrowly missed the hunter's mark, but the fear of death does not vault him forth any longer.

"There you go, that's it," Kvasir murmurs, soft as ever, offering another warm smile. He takes a few slow steps closer, his gait leisurely, in no hurry to get too close-- if this young man desires a beacon of comfort, he will be happen to offer it, but he will not make any move to invade. "Shhh... You don't need to be sorry. I followed because I wanted to make sure you were alright-- that's not something you ever need to apologize for."

He takes a moment to look the poor boy over one more time, frowning at just how miserable he looks-- dear Solaria, had that little show of attempted violence truly startled him so badly...? This was no mere case of unease; Kvasir's seen panic attacks a thousand times, from a thousand different sources, and he is all too acquainted with the kind of disconnection that had festered in this man's face, dissonant, dragging his feet across the desert and his mind across someplace else. This ran deeper, somehow, and... he would have to tread carefully, to handle this young man with care, to ensure that he felt safe here before him.

"...Mm," he hums contemplatively, giving the young man one more once-over before slowly extending a hand, though he does not expect him to take it. "You said you didn't know this area well, yes? I always feel a little better in strange areas when I know someone there. So... my name is Kvasir. Kvasir Sigurros. I'm a medic, alchemist, and... I'm very happy to meet you."

Kvasir shoots the stranger one more light, friendly smile, hoping this all is enough to start patching together his frayed nerves.

"...say, speaking of knowing others, one of those two-- the tiefling, the one like you?-- I know him. Don't worry, I know very well that he wouldn't harm you, too. He's got that situation covered, I'm sure, and I'm here with you."

Kara stopped when the Tiefling called out after her. She listened to what he had to say, and when he was done, she slowly turned around. She eyed him carefully, considering his words, before finally deciding to accept them. Yet there was still one thing she had to know about this stranger…

“Do you like onions?” She suddenly asked, suspicious. The Tiefling blinked, completely surprised. When he demanded to know what that had to do with anything, she waved him aside and turned back around. “I’m hungry. You want to talk? We’ll do it with satiation in our reach.” She took off without a backwards glance, looking around for somewhere to grab a bite, and after a moment, the Tiefling followed her.

The place they eventually found was a quasi-outdoor affair, the tables all under a large tent that covered the area, keeping the customers in a pleasant shade as they ate. Kara sat at an empty table, and reached back for her spear, which she laid out on the side of the table. It wasn’t a threatening move; Kara had simply found that sitting with the spear across her back was uncomfortable. The spear itself was a beautiful creation, made of ornate gold with intertwining designs running along the shaft. The white-gold spearhead was long and sharp, and seemed to sparkle even in the shade of the tent.

Kara kept her eyes on the Tiefling as he joined her, and when the waiter came to take their order, she allowed him to speak first. When he had placed his order, Kara spoke up. “I will have some animal flesh.” she said calmly. “I believe it is also called ‘Stayk’? Yes, I will have that.” As the waiter nodded and turned to go, Kara’s hand shot out and gripped his arm. She looked up at him, and her eyes glowed brighter. “I don’t want to see a single onion on my plate. Not a single slice, boy. Understand? If I see so much as a sliver, I will destroy this physical vessel of yours, and I will trace your soul back to the root of it’s family’s soul tree, and I will destroy your entire family’s spiritual line DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

The waiter’s eyes were wide, but he nodded in a confused way, then took off. Kara turned back to the Tiefling and smiled, tucking one of the glowing strands of her hair behind an ear.  “I’m Kara. Tell me your name.”

The strange question about onions definitely threw him off for a moment. What did that have to do with the situation? Had some onions offended her or were responsible for the death of a family member? Even that wouldn't really explain how she was acting moments before or the accusations against Kvasir. 

She strode away, claiming she was hungry. He wasn't keen on going too far since the whole reason he was here was to catch up with Kvasir. Still, this woman would likely get herself into more trouble if left to her own devices. He sighs. Babysitting some gold teared stranger was not on his to-do list for the day, yet here he was following after her if only to get clarification on her wild claims. 

They found a place to eat and sat down at a table outside. The woman only got stranger the more she spoke. Was the common language new to her? She seemed fluent enough. Then the onion topic came back up again.

Oh, dear. 

This woman was insane. 

He couldn't help but chuckle at the reaction of the poor server who became the target of Kara's distaste for a common vegetable used in almost every type of cooking across the nation in some capacity. Maybe she was from further away. Another land entirely perhaps. He had read a few journals from explorers that speak of places beyond Charon's familiar shores, though it was very uncommon to meet anyone who actually was from across the Luna Sea. It would possibly explain her strange mannerisms. 

"That was an intense threat, you should be careful otherwise you may get the guards called on you."

In Zeinav, especially out here in the countryside, she probably would be more likely to be beaten up on the streets by some bandits. In Zeinav City on the other hand, the Sultan's guard are very quick to respond to any disturbances and throw troublemakers in jail, or worse depending on the severity of the offense. 

"My name is Zarius." He leans back in his chair and tilts his head curiously. "So, where are you from exactly and why did you accuse Kvasir of being a dead celestial?"

“K-Kvasir..? Kvasir Sigurros.” It’s like no name he’s ever heard before- Not that he’s heard many in his lifetime, but somehow, having a name to the face talking to him feels grounding. It’s easier to focus on Kvasir’s face and his words now.

Little by little, Nyr’s shaking begins to subside, and he manages to introduce himself. “M-My name is Ny-Nyr.” There is a moment of pause as Nyr struggles to remember Nafr’s words to him. He had been taught how to introduce himself to others by his ever-patient tutor, not that Nyr ever needed such knowledge while in his father’s home. But it seems that Nafr was right to teach him anyway. He could use it now.

“It is… It is very n-nice to meet you.” He murmurs with a glance at the ground. The sight of sand against- And in- his shoes startles Nyr, though he doesn’t know why it would. Of course, there was sand here. He was in the desert. He’d been in the desert for weeks now. It only made sense.

He wasn’t in Frost Gale.

“I’m sorry.” The boy’s voice cracks as he looks back up at Kvasir. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over m-me back there. I just. I saw the light, the m-magic, and I just- I panicked.” There’s this desperate, frankly pathetic quality to his voice. Clearly, he’s horribly embarrassed by his reaction to that woman’s magic.

“I- That was your friend back there? You… I don’t want to keep you. You can go back to him. I’ll be okay, I promise.” The teifling gives Kvasir a small, shaky smile.

He would not be okay, but Kvasir didn’t need to know that. Why would he even care? Nyr was a stranger, after all.

Watching another person wrench themself away from the jaws of panic is hardly a foreign experience for Kvasir; he's seen it happen a thousand times, stood by patients and talked them through it, held onto shaking hands, whispered a mantra of numbers until they could commit the cycle of inhale-exhale back to memory. He knows the telltale signs of falling back to earth. Relief begins to slip into his expression, thankful that his efforts to help this boy seem to have been effective, and he makes no effort to hide it.

"It's lovely to meet you, Nyr," he says in return, open and sincere. And truly, he means it-- even through the few minutes he's known this boy, through the miasma of panic, there's the gravitational pull of intrigue and endearment guiding him back to this young man. "That's a lovely name. I don't think I've ever heard one quite like it."

Kvasir's unable to help the visible confusion that flashes across his face at just how embarrassed Nyr seems by his disengagement from the situation, the way his voice trembles, the way he seems to regard himself as though he's a burden in the midst of all of this. The smile on his face certainly falters at that one; dear Solaria, what on earth has gone on in this poor boy's life to make him assume so quickly that he's just getting in the way? Besides, hadn't he, mere moments before, been asking about books and alchemy?

"Ah-ah, none of that," he tsks, stepping closer, setting a gentle hand against Nyr's shoulder, his touch light enough to immediately withdraw it should the young man flinch beneath his touch. "I know a panic attack when I see one, and I'm not one to cut anyone loose so quickly after such a thing. Weren't you asking about a local alchemist, anyway? Instead of you running off, what do you say to going and finding someplace to get some tea? My treat, of course."

Kara observed the Tiefling before her. Zarius, huh? It almost sounded like an Angelic name. Almost. She sighed. She had royally screwed up their initial meeting, and she was sure that Zarius didn’t trust her in the slightest. As if you trust him. ...True.

“What do you mean, ‘accuse him’? Can you not see it?”

No, of course not. Kara should have expected as much. It takes a Celestial to see a Celestial. These mortals still looked at things with their eyes. Of course they were blind. Kara considered what to say to Zarius for a minute, then finally looked him in the eye. Flaring up what little angelic power she could, her eyes glowed brighter, as did the few strands of her raven hair that were still marked by her angelic origins.

“I’m from someplace quite far, Zarius. Auriel. I am an Angel. And your friend? Kvasir, was it? Well…” She paused. How to explain? “He is… oh, he’s mortal, don’t get me wrong. But his soul… it’s… connected somehow.” Kara let her eyes fade back to their normal state, which was of only nominal glowitude.

“Connected to a-” the waiter returned with drinks for the two of them, and Kara gave him a suspicious look. The waiter smiled nervously at her, and quickly shuffled off. Kara watched him go, before turning back to Zarius.

“Have you ever eaten an onion? Never mind, it’s not relevant.” She sighed once more. Damn, I miss Auriel. I miss my people. Mortals are so…

So different, really. Not better or worse, just… different. Kara smiled at Zarius. “I apologize for attempting to smite you. Though you should know it was not a fatal blow. I merely intended to knock you back. You would have survived unharmed. Well, relatively unharmed.” Kara hesitated. “Well, you would have survived at least.”

“...Probably.”

“Anyways, I just mean… I’m sorry. How did you avoid taking any damage from my Angel Blast?”

Angel Blast? Hell yeah, Kara, that’s an awesome name!

Wait, should I give all my powers cool names? Her eyes landed on her spear. Should I name my spear? Oh, definitely, but what?

“Light Piercer?” She wondered aloud. “Flesh Stabber? The Stabmeister??”

"No, I cannot. Though I will admit I do not know what celestials look like."

From the way she spoke, it seemed like she was a celestial, or at least something celestial adjacent. She certainly wasn't a normal everyday human.

"I am an Angel."

Ah, so according to her she is a celestial. Interesting, though she could be delusional. It was not a wild possibility. Though her actually being a celestial was not a wild possibility either and given her golden tears, it seemed more likely than her just being some crazy person. Well, she probably was both a celestial and a crazy person judging by her quickness to smite someone. 

"Have you ever eaten an onion?"

Back onto this topic. Oh, nevermind, she pivots back to the original conversation. She sure did lose focus easily. At least he didn't have to answer that. 

He gives her an increasingly skeptical look the more she talks about how he likely would have survived the blast. She was right, he probably would have survived, but it still hardly explained why she thought it was okay to do something like that. Still, an apology was a step in the right direction at the very least. 

"I have many tricks up my sleeves, but they would hardly be tricks anymore if I explained how they worked."

There was also the fact that some of his abilities he had no explanation for. While he had tried to look into things a few times, similar cases just seemed to run in his family for generations so far back that historical records are hard to come by. It seemed to come from his mother's side of the family, though his brother hasn't shown any signs of having such powers. Talking with his mother had only resulted in vague answers and reassurances that it was just something that ran in the family. Still, something about it felt uneasy. 

"So, you are an angel from another world. What are you doing here?"

Nyr flinches not when Kvasir touches him, but when he tsks. That simple noise of possible annoyance sending a jolt through Nyr. As if he is expecting the worst. But Kvasir’s next words do not line up with that of a man annoyed with him, so that tension slowly bleeds away again.

“...T-Tea sounds good.” He wasn’t sure how drinking something in a hot place would feel, but he was parched after all that running. And he had been looking for Kvasir after all, he would be a fool to reject the man’s offer and his willingness to overlook… Whatever it was that just happened to Nyr.

When they arrive at the nearest eatery and see that Tiefling man from before sitting at a table with her Nyr very nearly regrets his decision to come with Kvasir. He lets out a quiet, strangled noise and takes a step back from the entrance, not quite willing to go inside now that he’s seen who, exactly, is in there.

“O-On second thought maybe, um, maybe I don’t actually want tea…?” He tries, knowing very well his excuse will likely be easily called out.

It isn't as though he comments on it-- such a thing feels inappropriate, after all-- but Kvasir does not miss the way Nyr flinches before his hand lands against his shoulder, as if the poor thing is bracing for rejection rather than compassion. He does not shy away from his touch, but it is easy to see how he expects harshness to follow where kindness steps in instead. Oh, this is not a conversation for right now, but it is absolutely something he will be remembering; furthermore, he's making plans to keep a careful eye on this young man, too. Whatever sort of background he came from isn't Kvasir's place to know, but...

But the least he can do for him is watch over him, and give him guidance where he can.

Trying to initiate any further conversation with Nyr as they walk feels strangely improper, so Kvasir merely lets them lapse into silence as he leads them toward the nearest place he can think of that offers tea-- it's nothing quite like his favorite cafe back in Zeinav City, but it has the necessities, has jasmine and rose and cardamom and all the vital things. Ah, it'll be nice to have regular access to such things again, now that he thinks about it--

Before Kvasir can get too caught up in pleasant thoughts of spices and sweet floral flavors, his thoughts are scattered by the noise of panic that escapes Nyr, and he's quick to whirl around, glancing at whatever seems to have caught his attention.

Oh. Hm.

"...Nyr," he begins, his voice as soft as it was before. "It will be alright, I promise. Things seem to be under control, see? And I'm right here with you. I won't let anything happen-- we can just go in and get some tea, and talk about whatever questions you had for me. It will be okay."

He offers a tiny smile as he extends his hand, hoping to Solaria that Nyr feels alright enough to take it.

“You know, that’s a good freaking question.” Kara leaned back, spreading her arms wide in a shrug. “Why in the Light am I here? I have no. Damn. Idea.”

The waiter finally brought them their food. There was no onion. The waiter made a point of clearly showing her the contents of her plate before setting it down before her. Good man.

A few minutes were spent in silent chewing; Kara had seen people talk with their mouths full, but it was a skill she had yet to master. After she had eaten maybe half the ‘Stayk’, she put down her fork and knife, and looked up at Zarius, studying him. From the moment she had met him, something had been tickling her brain, warning her to stay away from him. She leaned forward, arms on the table. There was no doubt about it: There was an… aura around him, one of… darkness. Well, technically one of fear, maybe dread, but Kara preferred to lump those emotions into the general term ‘Darkness’.

Her eyes flickered to the entrance as two familiar figures appeared. “Your friend the dead celestial is here.” She said, standing up. “Stay here, watch Light Piercer for me.” She took a step towards the entrance, then paused, “No, wait, Stabmeister is definitely better. Watch Stabmeister for me.”

And with that, she strode directly for Kvasir and the kid. When she reached them, she stood with her hands on her hips, looking at them sternly. Then: “Do you want Stayk, child? I have some. Come.” The tone is a lot warmer than Kara had sounded before, though still tinged with a note of command.

He tilts his head in a curious way. She didn't know? So, did she somehow get here on accident then? How does something like that even happen? She didn't know. He didn't know. There were no answers to be gleaned on the subject at this time. 

Zarius observes her as she eats tentatively. Judging by the evidence before him Kara was not lying about being from a different world and it seemed like this wasn't even a form she was used to. Taking that into consideration, she hadn't been in Charon that long. She had some of the basics down, but common social interaction was still lost on her.

Normally someone like this who was naïve to the world would be an incredible opportunity to mold into a useful asset. But...her personality was...problematic. She just had an air of superiority about her that would be hard to humble in any meaningful capacity without a significant amount of time investment. He just didn't have that kind of time right now. Too many things were in motion all at once. 

He glances over his shoulder as Kara's eyes flit to Kvasir and Nyr entering the space. Not ideal. Did Kvasir come back looking for him? He should have stayed away for a little while longer. His attention snaps back to Kara as she begins to move. 

Here we go again.

As she gets up and moves towards the door, he is very tempted to trip her up to stop her from bothering Kvasir and Nyr again. But there was a chance that her form was fragile and she would just explode into a radiant ball of light if he did that. Was that how celestials worked? Probably not, but he wouldn't be surprised if they did. 

Instead he watches very closely, ready to get up from his seat and intercept if needed. He moves some of the chairs around quietly to make space for Kvasir and Nyr to join the table if they wanted to, making a clear effort to keep both himself and Kvasir between Kara and Nyr.

Nyr doesn’t take Kvasir’s hand at first. He seems unsure of the offer. Like he isn’t quite used to someone offering their hand just for the sake of comforting him, even if Kvasir had already calmed him down from a panic attack just a few moments ago.

There was only ever once person in Nyr’s life who would have touched him gently in such a way. But Nafr, for all his kindness, had never actually been able to offer his hand to Nyr or place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He had tried to, of course, especially when he caught Nyr crying in his room or hiding in some forgotten corner of the manor from his father’s other thralls. But all Nafr ever managed to do was leave an impression of a cool breeze when he touched Nyr.

Such was the life of a ghost, really.

But when that strange woman once again approaches with a commanding look to her form, Nyr is quick to take Kvasir’s hand and- Erm- Well.

He sort of, maybe, hides behind the fox man. Just a bit! Only like half of his body ends up behind Kvasir. But it’s enough to make him feel like there’s some kind of barrier between him and the woman.

“St…ayk…?” Was that some kind of threat? There were many things Nyr did not know about the outside world. Even in Frost Gale he would be by and large lost on the social and cultural intricacies of the land.

Whatever Stayk was, he decided it sounded terrifying, even if her voice was softer than it had before.

Helpless, he looks to Kvasir. The man had said he wouldn’t let anything happen to him, right? He’d just have to trust him to do that now.

It isn't entirely surprising that Nyr seems so very hesitant to take Kvasir's hand-- hell, he'd likely have been more surprised if he hadn't wavered at all. Considering just how shaken and unfamiliar with compassion the poor boy seems to be, it's no wonder that even an offer of comfort and support seems totally foreign to him. He's a second away from considering withdrawing his hand and steering him elsewhere when suddenly Nyr is holding fast to his hand, diving behind him like Kvasir is his shield, peeking out from over his shoulder to acknowledge...

...the woman from earlier, who... speaks more softly, now, her bravado and aggression long-abandoned, but oh, does her delivery need work. Kvasir sighs, his tail curling backward just so, falling back over Nyr in a quiet show of protectiveness, gently squeezing the poor boy's hand as a show of reassurance.

"...well, hello again," he says just a bit curtly, though he clings to some semblance of politeness, as much as he can manage for someone who'd seen so clearly through him, eyes landing upon the gold he fought to bury. "Ah, do you... mean 'steak?' I'm sure if the young man desires any food for himself, he can order some of his choice. You needn't give up your own so readily, Miss."

Kvasir forces a feeble smile, glancing around the woman to try and catch Zarius's gaze-- oh, thank the Gods, he's on standby, still, clearly ready to intercept if need be. From the looks of it, he's made space at the table he and this stranger have been occupying, too. Ah, well, as long as he stays in the middle of all of this, as long as Zarius is here... hopefully things will be alright. He gently pulls at Nyr's hand, mouthing a brief 'it's okay' as he leads the young man around to where Zarius sits, careful to ensure they're situated in a way that keeps Nyr a fair distance away from the strange woman.

...she doesn't seem to mean them any harm anymore, but... he will tread carefully all the same.

"...Coincidence drags us back together once again, it seems, friend," Kvasir manages a half-hearted chuckle as he looks over to Zarius. "Ah, Nyr, anything you'd like, I'll cover. Don't worry about prices, I'll handle it."