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Post by Galvynn Ostwick on Mar 29, 2024 9:43:17 GMT -5
Spring was truly blooming across Charon as pops of color from budding trees dotted the various forests. Flowers made their return after the quiet of winter. Dull blues and grays now replaced by vivid pinks and soft greens. Galvynn's affinity for nature meant he enjoyed all seasons, but he would be lying if he said he didn't have favorites. Spring is the triumphant return of nature's beauty after its winter nap.
It was in the first weeks of Spring the druid found himself wandering further from the safety of the forests. Bucky trailed beside him as the pair made their way towards Luna Lake. The Rune Badger was more than happy to plod towards a watering hole and splash around. A recent encounter in Sol City had also left him with a taste for crabs, Galvynn just didn't have the heart to tell him he wouldn't find crabs in a lake. It was better to let him explore and learn.
Galvynn smiled towards a few other creatures lingering on the edge of the woods, "Come friends, you are safe here."
Not all believe they are safe, but some take the chance. A fox brushes past Galvynn, making sure to put the druid between itself and the badger, stretching out for a drink. Others slowly start to come towards the water when Bucky doesn't immediately attack but most give them a wide berth.
"Seems like you're the brave one." The druid chuckles as he crouches down to be closer to eye level with the fox.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 29, 2024 14:55:40 GMT -5
Ironic, how time’s jagged claws sunk into your skin and left scars deeper than any physical wound could ever render on your flesh.
Cyran ought to have been no stranger to wounds. Inflicting them, and receiving them in turn. Ten years of rot and neglect left behind in the dark spaces he tread, the shadows deepening with each step he took. And the past reached back for him, pointed teeth nipping at his heels. Oh, but Cyran had never stopped hiding; he ran and called it solemn remembrance. He took up such grim work because he thought it all he was good for. It was means to an end. A way to make a living. It took a long time, and more than enough criminals telling him that he wasn’t come out for this line of work for Cyran to stop hiding under the Specter’s cloak.
But the past does not relinquish its prey so readily.
He was alone; loathe to part from Del as he was, they’d decided to split for a few days to shake off the danger on their trail. The spirit who recognized the Crucible, the ever-hanging threat of Anslem’s retaliation… danger at every turn meant they had to be smart. It was only for a few days.
Yet a few days was all Cyran needed to find himself in a new wave of trouble.
He’d not had his weapon on him, because Spell Slicer and Cold Steel had been locked away in a trunk back home where he could never touch them again. Wraithsbane had been tucked in his bag. The assassin hadn’t even had to hide in the shadows - a well-timed dart coated in a poison that temporarily sealed away his magic, and a blow to the back of the head was all it took for his vision to go dark.
Cyran did not remember what happened next, but Galvynn would be able to fill in the gaps.
The elven man had been haphazardly tossed into Luna Lake - unconscious and concussed, and definitely seen better days.
It would definitely come as a shock to the young man and his animal companions as the moon elf drifted closer to the bank, carried by the lake’s mild tide.
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Post by Galvynn Ostwick on Apr 1, 2024 12:13:28 GMT -5
While animals approaching him was nothing new, corpses were. He looks at the floating elf for a moment. Galvynn was not much for human customs, but uncerimoniously tossing a body into a body of water was just rude.
"Just stay here a moment friend." He smiled and brushed a hand through the fox's fur before standing up.
At the very least he didn't want the body to befoul the water. It probably wouldn't be too bad in a lake this big, but he would rather not subject nature to anything like that if he could avoid it. Galvynn would bury the body, let the earth reclaim it and give it new life.
The druid wades into the water and grabs the collar of Cyran's cloak to pull him out before he stops, "....oh. You're not dead." The breath is faint, but he can hear it.
The body of the moon-elf is dragged onto the shore to be immediately sniffed by Bucky. He gets in one sniff before his snout is pushed away. The badger wrinkles his nose and looks at the druid.
"Sorry, Buck...this one needs help first...you know, before he's dead." Galvynn kneels beside the unconcious body and holds his hands over it.
The dull pulse of green light radiates from his hands. The sand beneath him warms a bit as the warmth of the earth seems to be pulled into his back and through his chest. It is a slow process to mend the wounds he has and remove the poison from his system. Galvynn is careful to not just pull the ripcord and yank Cyran back to life as jarring as that is.
"Now you can sniff Bucky." The druid lets out a breath as he sits back. "Rest your head on him gently...he needs warmth after being in the water for so long."
The badger obliges and sets his head on the elf. Bucky's wide and squat head almost entirely covers Cyran's torso. The fox nervously comes to investigate as well, humans aren't something it experiences often.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 5, 2024 14:31:14 GMT -5
As Galvynn would quickly learn - Cyran’s pulse was faint, but present. The cold water had soaked him to the bone, but for better or worse… the stranger was made of sterner stuff than whatever had attacked him. Or perhaps he was so steeped in death that it clung to him like a thick overcoat.
But that was neither here nor there.
At present, he was being dragged out of the waters and healed by the young druid who’d happened upon him. With the harmony of the earth, Cyran’s wounds stitched closed, and all that remained was the ghost of pain echoing in his body. And soon… even that began to dissipate.
Consciousness came slowly; warmth took longer to reach him than usual, but eventually, it did. He groaned, stirring, and blinked awake. Cyran wasn’t sure what he expected - he’d not really been conscious enough to form coherent thought about his situation in the first place - but he certainly hadn’t expected to find himself surrounded by… what looked like animals. There was even an unexpected weight on his chest. As he managed to crane his neck to get a better look, he spotted a striped animal on top of him, roughly the size of a bear.
What the hell.
Perhaps he was still bleary from unconsciousness, or thrown for a loop at the idyllic, storybook scene he’d found himself in, but Cyran couldn’t help the next words that came out of his mouth while he eased himself into a sitting position. Or at least, he would, if it weren’t for the massive weight on top of him currently smothering the cold out of his system.
“… Have I died?”
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Post by Galvynn Ostwick on Apr 5, 2024 22:09:19 GMT -5
Galvynn shifts to crouch on the balls of his feet a moment to look over Cyran before standing to his feet. Time to wait and see if the elf would wake up. He looks over to Cyran when he hears the rustling below. A good sign.
The druid does not rush to awaken the elf though, whatever happened was likely traumatic so yanking him back to the present wouldn't do him any good. A soft and gentle reentry into being awake was probably the best option. He didn't really know, he wasn't a doctor. Just a forest hermit with strange thoughts dancing through his head.
When Cyran starts to shift a little more, Bucky grumbles and adjusts to allow the elf more freedom of movement while sticking to the task at hand. The fox that had greeted Galvynn when he first arrived even starts to creep in and nervously check out the elf.
"I sure hope not, I can't imagine I'd be a very good guide to the underworld." He grins and turns giving Cyran the first look at him. There was almost something disarming about how innocent and free he looked even to someone like Cyran.
The gentle gold rings around his eyes sparkle a moment as crouches back down to Cyran's level putting a hand on the badger's back, "Up Buck, come on and you, little one, you are welcome to stay if you wish."
Bucky does shift up and allow Cyran out from underneath as Galvynn address the animals first. The fox hops over Cyran to hide behind Galvynn, watching the elf through his hiding spot between the druid's legs.
Galvynn chuckles at his little menagerie, "How are you feeling? If you need more healing I am happy to provide it, but there is a benefit to the body's natural healing as well."
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 11, 2024 13:19:53 GMT -5
It was in Cyran’s nature to be withdrawn and weary of those he first met.
Not the instinct he was born with but the one he was fit into. Given that he’d just been attacked by someone who sought to silence him, it was not an unwarranted reaction; so when a foreign voice answered his question, Cyran couldn’t help but tense. He turned as fast as he could while the badger allowed him to sit up, turning to face a young man who’d just made his presence known. Worn clothes and a dirt-stained face indicated a forest-dweller… not unheard of in Moonglade, but still not especially common.
A thousand thoughts raced through Cyran’s mind as a fox hesitantly approached him, likely to assess whether he was a threat. Without his weapons, Cyran wouldn’t fashion himself much of one; though oddly, as he experimentally reached for the shadows, he found that his access to his magic had been restored. A realization which came with no small amount of surprise. By all accounts, he ought to have been dead, yet despite the soreness that wracked him, he felt in decent form.
The retired assassin blinked as the young man knelt down, molten gold swirling in his disarming gaze while he urged the giant badger up. Still not entirely convinced this wasn’t a fever dream, Cyran assessed his injuries while the Druid’s companion gathered around him, obviously weary of the newcomer, in turn. Cyran did not blame them. For a moment, Cyran wondered if the druid might interrogate him, ask what business he had being half-drowned and half-dead in a lake in the middle of nowhere.
Yet no such question came.
“Me?” Cyran rubbed at the back of his neck, sheepish. He felt in better health that he had any right to… evidently he did have this young man to thank for his life. Cyran pulled himself into a standing position, waving off the young man’s offer. “No, no - you’ve already done more than enough for me. I must thank you for healing me… I cannot imagine that it was entirely pleasant to find me in whatever condition I was in. Most would have left me for dead. I am indebted to you…”
He paused, realizing he did not yet know the name of his savior, or even his intentions. The young man could have had entirely nefarious purposes for all he knew, but if he did, Cyran would pick up on it from the insight rune. There was no point in acting suspicious of the man right off the bat.
Cyran offered his hand to shake, a small, polite smile on his face that betrayed the heaviness of all that weighed on his mind. “You can call me Cyran. If there’s anything I can do to repay you for your kindness, please, let me know.”
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Post by Galvynn Ostwick on Apr 11, 2024 20:29:03 GMT -5
It wasn't hard to see how Galvynn could be a strange cryptid from Cyran's perspective. The druid seems so of this world, but some how also not. He is embedded in the present moment, but thinking of something distance.
The fox looks up to Galvynn then over to Cyran. It curls around his legs a few times as the men carry on their conversation. Galvynn gently puts a hand on Cyran's shoulder if allowed.
"I wouldn't ready yourself to leave....or worry about any debts. If the waters carried you here, then it was probably Her guidance..." He smiles brightly as his hand retreats back. "Nature unfolds itself as it should, which means you still have a purpose in this world."
There is a long pause after Cyran introduces himself, "...Oh right, Galvynn." He gives a sheepish smile and laugh.
The druid takes a seat only for his lap to be claimed by the fox, Bucky placing his head nestled up against Galvynn's side. Each of his companions get a hand to pet and run through the fur.
"Kindness is not a thing to be repaid...besides coins aren't really a thing I need and anything I need I can provide for myself." Those shimmering eyes look up to Cyran, "So what would you even give a person like this? Most people get a bit frustrated when repayment is not straightforward...it's funny from my perspective watching humans get so twisted up when told not to repay something."
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 18, 2024 7:28:14 GMT -5
Though Cyran was out of his depth when it came to the eccentric young man who’d saved his life, Cyran wasn’t bothered. He’d lived far too long to be thrown for a loop whenever he met someone different than him. Any unnerved feelings were quick to pass the longer he and the child spoke. Though the young man seemed to have a two-toned gaze, here but not here, he had yet to pose a threat to Cyran, and everything he’d said seemed… genuine.
Kindness was hard to come by these days.
It was for this reason he didn’t flinch back when the stranger put his hands on the elven man’s shoulder.
“Her?” Cyran blinked, confused. Perhaps the young man was speaking of divine will; and if he was, then it meant he’d yet to learn the news that the gods had long since decayed in their graves. Cyran hummed, electing to leave that topic where it lie for now.
The word purpose did force a laugh out of him - one which rang slightly hollow in the clearing.
“I’m not quite sure about that.” He’d cheated death enough times by now that it was hard to believe there was any reason for it. “Regardless of purpose, though, I do still have a life I quite enjoy living, and family to return to. Your help is much appreciated.”
Galvynn didn’t accept his handshake, but Cyran didn’t seem especially bothered by that. The druid seemed chock-full of his own idiosyncrasies, and Cyran did not perceive them as rude in any way.
Nor was he particularly surprised that Galvynn did not need any currency. “It is no trouble to repay with kindness in turn, even when there is no expectation of it.” He paused, tilting his head to the side in thought. The motion was almost birdlike in nature. “And I do not necessarily mean through money. I’m not much of a handyman, but my fiancé has given me a few tips, and if you need any kind of manual labor done I’d be happy to help. And if not… even just some company and news of the outside world?” He shrugged.
It was then that Galvynn might learn that Cyran was unfortunately quite stubborn when it came to matters like this. Nor did he get especially frustrated. Someone had been kind to him, and he owed it to them to give back as best he could. Not out of any obligation - but because he wanted to.
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Post by Galvynn Ostwick on Apr 18, 2024 9:28:28 GMT -5
"You don't have to believe it or accept it, Nature doesn't care how willing something is, nature will progress as it needs to. Whether you flourish with it or are consumed by it is completely up to you." It was an oddly threatening line of thinking despite his smile and softness.
"If you were supposed to die today, then why was I here?" A hand gently strokes the fur of the fox as he smiles down at the creature. "Perhaps She thought you were another person in need of something...and I mean more than just healing. There are plenty of humans out there who can provide healing, so what brought you here I wonder?"
Galvynn is half looking for an answer and half just idly musing as he shifts his gaze to the waters of the lake the sit near. The ripples of Cyran's entrance into the water have long faded to a glassy stillness. An occasional breeze pushes small waves, but the area is quiet and still. It seems so far away from the world, away from whatever has been happening in the world the Galvynn avoids.
"I know it hampers my duties as a steward of nature, but the concerns of city life and what humans get up to not very interesting...It's too....loud, everyone forcing themselves to be things they are not. Denying their nature to be something else because someone told them that's what they are supposed to do...It's a painful sight to me."
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 29, 2024 17:45:12 GMT -5
Cyran didn’t need to believe in Nature’s will to know that he disagreed with Galvynn, either. Even in his youth he’d never been one to give credence to the fact that life was a series of choices carved out by divine will. Primordial entities forged reality as they knew it, and it was up to mortals to weather life and control their own choices. Still; Galvynn was entitled to his own opinions, and as Cyran was far too old to learn new tricks, he’d not do Galvynn any injustice by purposefully and crudely criticizing his beliefs. In this world, as upside down as it was, their convictions were all they had.
“To me, it is not a matter of whether I was supposed to or not. Someone made the conscious decision to put an end to my life, and another made the choice to save it.” There was no meddling fate involved in the desire to be a kind person - which, Cyran was rapidly learning, Galvynn was.
He blinked at the sudden question.
“… The meager tide of Luna Lake?”
It likely was not the answer Galvynn was looking for.
Cyran sighed; a soft, disquieted noise. It was not the young Druid’s fault that the ex-assassin had a hand in the battle against not one, but two divine entities, which had rather soured his opinion of the goodwill of immortals.
“To be frank, I’ve no affection for the divine and the primordial. To say that you saving me was the will of something bigger than both of us would be a discredit to you. Whatever you believe, you were the one who performed the kindness of healing me - and that is what I am appreciative of.”
Not Nature’s guiding hand.
“So… thank you.”
He dipped into a stiff bow, manners and politeness ingrained in him since before he could speak. He’d not spent the entirety of his existence in these woods like Galvynn, but Cyran did understand the sentiment that he was describing.
“I spent the better part of the last decade avoiding humanity where I could.” Sleeping in abandoned buildings and forests to avoid resting in the city; as if keeping his head down would keep him away from the troubles of the humanity he was so tired of. In the end, it had caught up to him.
Cyran offered Galvynn a small smile of understanding. “I respect that. There’s not much in the way of news save the continued instability plaguing Charon.” First Vulcadreus, now the fae meddling in their affairs…
“Nevertheless, I shall find something to make it up to you.” He’d find it. Repayment didn’t need to come right away. Cyran was patient. “Well, I guess I should start by asking what brought you to this lake in the first place.”
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Post by Galvynn Ostwick on Apr 29, 2024 21:25:40 GMT -5
"The cat chases the mouse and even when the cat is sure of its victory, the mouse escapes...why some mice do or don't is hard the say, but..." He smiles down at the pair of animals nestling against his lap. "The lessons nature teaches us tend to be for a reason."
The druid is content with sitting quietly a moment and allowing Cyran the chance to think and speak. He imagined the elf had a lot going on that he was trying to process, Galvynn's odd philosphizing aside. It wasn't an easy thing to parse when in a state, his train of thought was less a train and more a bramble path deep in the woods. Prickly and annoying to those who aren't willing to be careful through it.
Galvynn offers a hand for Cyran to sit, accidentally at the same time the elf bowed, pulling a laugh from the druid's throat. A soft and melodic little chirp like a songbird calling for friends. He rests back on his palms and lets his furry friends drift into a nap.
"The world is what it is...it is all a response to something else, ripples across the water that is reality....though I will say the lack of balance is something that does bother me, but that's not the point right now." He lets out a little breath to think as Cyran asks about his business.
A little smile lifts one of the corners of his mouth, "Like I said...I assume this...Her voice is the one that guides me but.." The smile drops to a small frown, "But She is weak, so...I follow the best I can...I usually end up where people are in need....Wanders lost in the woods, friends like Bucky here in need of protection....you, in need of healing. Perhaps more...Near death is not an easy thing regardless of how often it may have happened in the past and from the sounds of it, this wasn't the typical adventure gone wrong I run across...I am an impartial ear, I likely have never heard of any criminal group targeting you or noble house you may have upset.....if it helps I am probably an enemy of just as many of your nobles....The woods are a great place to escape through if you know where to go."
He figures the implication is clear enough as to what Galvynn was ocassionally asked to do. The elf may have even heard about a strange man helping people escape through Moonveil Forests. Galvynn felt little risk sharing this, what does jail mean to a man who doesn't respect civilization and can also turn into a mouse?
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