[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qQHuGQU.png[/img] Collab between [@Beard Dad], and [@The Muse] [sub]Location: Eye of the Beholder[/sub][hr][/center] Kira watched the Priestess go, eyes settling on the door she’d left cracked open. Without a word, she stepped forward and gently pushed it until it clicked shut. Kira stood there a moment longer than necessary, fingertips resting on the wood, gaze drifting to the door knob as she considered what she was about to say—or not say. Ivor, in all his naive efforts to see the best in everyone, hadn’t seemed to notice the same things she had. On her own, Kira could dig deeper. Hold it. Keep the information close to the chest until she saw fit to reveal it. Form it into a blade to press against an Aurelian throat. She blinked. The word ‘[i]sister[/i]’ rang quietly in the back of her mind. She didn’t know [i]how[/i] to be one. Or if she even wanted to be one at all. Still, an unwelcome ache deep inside her chest had given her enough pause to not walk out the door. Ivor had shown her unprecedented kindness since the moment they’d met. Perhaps she could repay it, in her way. Turning, she leaned back against the door, arms crossing as one boot pressed flat against the wood behind her. Her eyes found Ivor’s again, their glowing hues of orange and purple mingling faintly in the dark. [color=DC561E]“She’s hiding something from you,”[/color] Kira said quietly—flatly. No judgement, no emotion, just fact. Ivor had been absentmindedly stretching out his back and cracking each knuckle individually as Kira closed the door shut and laid her truth on him. The giant simply stared at her, blinked, smiled and replied, [color=9a45dc]“Ivor know already.”[/color] There was no shock in his voice, no anger of betrayal, just a quiet and resigned understanding. Kira studied him silently, taking in his body language, his expression, and the unbothered tone of his voice. It struck her then—that Ivor might understand more about the world than he let on, or at least more than he could articulate in the broken common tongue he spoke in. And that maybe… maybe he didn’t need to walk through the world as rigidly as she did. Not every secret had to be pried from someone’s lips, not every hidden thing was a weapon waiting to turn on you. Ivor could allow others to come as they were, to present themselves however they wished, and he waited, patiently, for them to reveal their truths when they were ready. Like Aleski. Like [i]her[/i]. [color=9a45dc]“Ivor has known since she asked to go to crystal cave…hmmm”[/color] he paused and mused, [color=9a45dc]“perhaps Ivor should call it something else…fish cave maybe…”[/color] Ivor knew he wasn’t good at lying and if asked directly by the prince or anyone else for that matter, he could only hope he wouldn’t reveal anything vital. It wouldn’t do him any good to be revealing her secrets, especially now that he knew they were secrets. Looking over at the other blightborn in the room though, he realized the solution was with him the whole time. [color=9a45dc]“Miss Kira, you are good at the lying, perhaps you can give Ivor the…how you say..Pointers?”[/color] Kira exhaled softly through her nose, a subtle huff of amusement slipping out. The corners of her lips lifted just slightly, her hard stare softening as Ivor somehow managed to disarm her again. With the Priestess gone, her walls had weakened—just a little. [color=DC561E]“Don’t call it the fish cave,”[/color] she said dryly. She hesitated, studying him. How exactly could she teach someone like Ivor—kind-hearted and sincere to a fault—to lie with a straight face? It would take years, maybe a lifetime. And more than that, it would cost him part of his soul to truly master it. Lying wasn’t just a trick. It was an art. One that demanded a myriad of masks, practiced tones, carefully measured expressions, and a willingness to let go of guilt. [color=DC561E]“Don’t bring it up.”[/color] She said, her tone sharpening. [color=DC561E]“To anyone. Not unless they ask you directly.”[/color] Her gaze drifted to the floor, brows knitting together in thought. She didn’t know the full truth of what he was trying to hide, which made it difficult to shape a lie around, but she could try. For him. [color=DC561E]“If they do ask… mix in the truth. Wrap it [i]around[/i] the lie, but don’t touch what matters. Keep it simple. Don’t over explain. Too much detail, or not enough, makes people suspicious.”[/color] She looked up at him again, watching to see if anything was sinking in. Ivor’s focus was entirely on the woman in front of him, the explanation was simple and her terse vernacular easily flowed into his brain. [color=DC561E]“Remember the story you’re going to tell, and say it like it’s true. With confidence, like you believe it.”[/color] Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying his face once more—those expressive eyes, the smile that always came too easily. [color=DC561E]“And control your expressions,”[/color] she added, grimacing slightly. That, she suspected, would be the most difficult part for him to manage. [color=DC561E]“Use your language as a shield.”[/color] She said, thinking through all his possible weapons or means of defense. [color=DC561E]“If someone gets too close, act confused. Perhaps you don’t understand what they mean.”[/color] Not knowing the common language perfectly—it could be a weapon, if he learned to wield it correctly. [color=DC561E]“So,”[/color] she gestured to him, [color=DC561E]“what’s your story, if I were to ask what the crystal cave is?”[/color] There was quite a lot for him to remember, but for the most part he understood what she was getting at. Avoidance would be the easiest way for him to remain silent, but if absolutely pressed he would need an excuse. He didn’t understand the common language as well as everyone else, they all knew it and she was right that he could use it to his advantage. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, searching his mind for the proper vocabulary. What would have been a proper excuse anyway? All Tia had asked him to do was show him the cave where he found the…the fish! His eyes shot open as he looked at Kira and his mouth moved to speak before stopping. He remembered, just briefly, to control his expressions. A deep breath in and an exhale and Ivor returned his gaze on Kira with as soft a smile as he could muster. [color=9a45dc]“Oh, crystal cave?”[/color] He tried to keep a low and even tone to his voice in an attempt to be casual. [color=9a45dc]“Ah, you must mean the fish hole Ivor found! Yes, many many fish, in little holes in ice!”[/color] [i]Breath Ivor, you’re getting too excited…[/i] the giant huffed, [color=9a45dc]“Ivor thought it was a cave with many shiny stones, but was actually many glittery fish instead.”[/color] He gestured with his hands the size of the fish, a full bodied cod in appearance, [color=9a45dc]“Ivor already bring to Syraea this morning, should last some time, yes.”[/color] He nodded, then his smile grew, [color=9a45dc]“How did Ivor do?”[/color] He stared in anticipation of her answer, watched her neutral expression that barely shifted and in that moment felt a deep sadness for her. The advice she had given was incredibly useful, but Ivor wondered just how many times she had used that advice to her own benefit? He knew she had not lied to him directly, that much was certain when she spoke of coming from the capital; but what truth was she avoiding? It seemed a lonely life to keep so many secrets and a confusing one to fabricate so many stories. Something stirred in her. Warm and unfamiliar. She wasn’t sure what to call it—had she ever even felt it before? It curled the corners of her lips into something far too genuine. A smile, entirely unguarded, as she watched Ivor formulate his lie. It was like watching a child take their first steps—clumsy but brave. There was pride in it. He had a long way to go, but she could appreciate his immediate effort. Whatever this feeling, it cracked through her like sunlight through a storm cloud—sudden, bright, radiant and— [i]Uninvited[/i]. Her smile had widened without permission, broad enough that her razor sharp canines flashed in the low light. Realizing it, her expression swiftly snapped shut—sealed on instinct. She pushed the feeling back down where it belonged. Deep. Out of reach. [color=DC561E]“It’ll do.”[/color] she said, the words clipped but not cold. Not quite praise, but not disappointment either. She pushed off the doorframe, clearing his exit, and stepped deeper into the room. [color=DC561E]“You’ll get the hang of it. With time.”[/color] Her voice softened, touched with a faint glimmer of dejection. [color=DC561E]“It’ll become second nature.”[/color] As she passed him, something venomous coiled in the back of her mind. A whisper, dark and tempting: [i]Reach in. Take it. Become shadow and slip beyond the barrier of his mind. Tear it from his memory. Make it yours.[/i] Who were they to hoard secrets they could barely manage to keep? It would be easy. But she didn’t. She walked on, resisting the pull, forcing the impulse back into its cage. She moved toward a table in the back, near a window—a quiet little perch from which to observe and vanish all at once. She would stay. Just a little longer. Ivor watched her glide past him, a sadness of her own threatening to enwrap her. While he didn’t want to leave her in a melancholy state, he felt that their time to speak had passed and that whatever gripped her now required self-reflection. He too wondered what burdens she held onto her soul, what sort of secrets she continued to keep; but that was not his place to ask. She had helped him, even after he enlisted her aid involuntarily, and it was time to help her in return. [color=9a45dc]“Thank you, Miss Kira, for all your help. It is most appreciating.”[/color] He nodded and bowed slightly, before he made his way over to the door. Carefully pulling the latch he opened the door, ducking beneath the frame to exit out he looked back into the room while pulling the door. He paused, briefly, [color=9a45dc]“Miss Kira…”[/color] He stared at her, unsure of what to say. No, it wasn’t that, he wanted to say [i]‘It does not have to be like second nature,’[/i] but the words held fast, unwilling to go further than his throat. Instead he swallowed and smiled, his eyes soft and weary. [color=9a45dc]“Please take care of yourself,”[/color] he nodded one last time and latched the door shut behind him.