Illumin0sity

Journey to the East

Noah waited anxiously for Elann to reply to his question. The words that came as she finished her thoughts were surprising to the Kelvic. She seemingly took on his outlook of the world, not caring what witnesses to his actions thought. It was really none of his business what they thought, and if he let it get to him it would only ruin his fun, dampen the enjoyment of what he liked to do.

Noah’s anxiety eased but he was conflicted. His glance fell from Elann to the journal in his lap, his hands still playing over the edges, though no longer filled by anxiousness. He had already resolved himself to no longer go to the brothels if it would cause problems but Elann was giving him something new to consider and was presenting him with conditions he could agree with. He would never indulge in the women there now that he was with Elann. The one in the drawing had asked him upstairs with her, wanting him for the fact that he was good looking alone. After their deed had been done he asked to draw her and she agreed, letting his quietness charm her though she was much older than he was at the time, older than Elann was now as well.

Atop that, he wasn’t much of a drinker. Ale during meals was enough for him but he didn’t like the feelings that heavy consumption of alcohol brought; they dulled his senses and diluted the acuteness of his gaze. He held onto his senses because they helped him survive and he felt paranoid and vulnerable when he didn’t have them at their peaks. He had made the mistake once before and hadn’t escaped the wrath of a hangover when he was younger. The memory of his pounding headache was fresh in his mind still, even after all these years, and he couldn’t fathom drinking to that point again, especially now since Elann asked as much of him.

“I won’t,” he promised.

Even as he spoke he thought it still doubtful he would readily accept an invitation if the first thing told to him about it was a trip to a brothel. They were a hub for entertainment in the city and a few of the clubs held multiple floors for different reasons. Zeltiva was a city rich in culture and entertainment played a large part in exposing the citizens to the various sects inhabiting the city. Just as there were playhouses there were also taverns and inns ripe for fun to be had.

Noah took a breath, completely easing the tension that built up in him in anticipation for Elann’s reaction to his drawing. It meant a lot to him that she changed her way of thinking, no longer seemingly utterly rigid against his own opinion. Before, where there hadn’t been any arguing with her on the matter, there was now a compromise. He appreciated it. Noah truthfully had begun to take Elann’s total refusal of the brothel issue as meaning she didn’t trust him. It hurt him and hurt his own trust with her. Up until that point, up until their fight, he trusted her near implicitly. It was nice to hear she did trust him enough to allow it even if his mind had been essentially made up about the issue.

“Here,” he beckoned, setting the journal aside.

It was his way of calling her to him and his lap was open to her. He partially wanted to totally banish the chance of his unfaithfulness from her mind in the act.

“I never would do that, you know?” he questioned.

Journey to the East

Noah hummed cheerily at the image of his sister. In the few years it had been since the drawing was initially created Aimee had grown speedily. It was the same for him. The first few years of his life were met with explosive growth spurts that nothing could explain. The only fact of the matter was he was a Kelvic and the reaching of sexual maturity happened by the time he was four years old. He was a teenager then, growing still in terms of appearance. He left his nest, so the speak, when he was six years old, coming to Syliras then. It had been three years since then but his birthday had just passed again in the past winter, though Elann didn’t know that. He was ten years old now, his aging slowing considerably because of the dire-kin’s blood running through his veins. His age was unknown to Elann as well, having not been asked as much.

Elann’s reaction to the picture was anticipated by him, though he hoped it wouldn’t have happened at all. He hadn’t forgotten about the picture or the night he drew it. He wasn’t seeking it out when he was flicking through his drawings but he forgot just what else lay inside his journal in the excitement of wanting to show Elann the rest of his work. To him, the picture didn’t mean anything in the way it meant something to Elann. It was but a drawing of a woman, a brothel-maid.

“Elann,” he carefully spoke, gripping the edges of his journal in unease. “What’s are you thinking about?”

The question was asked in the want for an answer, a want to hopefully ease the new burden on Elann’s mind before it festered into something else. She had eased away from him and lay back down on the rug-bed with not even a word. Her mind seemed heavy like it did the day he brought the letter of her father’s disownment to her, she resembled the sight of a weighed down soul. It didn’t settle well with the Kelvic who was fluttering with nervousness now.

Journey to the East

“Yes,” he replied. Noah fluttered around the journal, flipping a few pages towards the front of the book.

The journal he had was old but it didn’t look it. He kept it under good care, kept it locked away and unexposed to the elements of time. His trunk held all things precious to him, and the journal was it as well. As he was flipping Elann could see various drawings of unfinished things, things that once had his interest but lost it as he had begun drawing. He was highly critical of himself and of the objects that managed to keep his attention. There were a lot of still life items from piles of gold to fruit on a table to the fireplace with an active flame. The framework had been laid but the bulk of the project failed to come through.

Finally, he came to a series of portrait drawings, many of them busts viewed from the perspective of the shoulders upwards. This wasn’t so far in his history to denote a beginner but these were better than what he had just drawn, the lack of practice over the years catching up to him. He came to a page and stopped there, turning the book over to face Elann. The image depicted a younger Aimee, her face being smaller and less defined. Her hair wasn’t as long, bid away in a braid, her eyes pale with large pupils. There was detail, shine, and shading. It wasn’t masterful but the Kelvic’s attention to detailed aided him immensely when it came to how his hands translated his sights to the page.

“She asked me if I wanted to go to the market with her and father,” he said, explaining the story behind the picture. “I remembered her face like this and drew it when we came back home.”

The Kelvic’s memory was near photographic, able to denote and recall features down to small details. He needed it when going over his territory, when choosing where he wanted to hunt and which trees he was most comfortable perching in.

Noah turned the journal to face himself again, flipping through it more. He set it on his lap as he looked through the old pictures, slowing as he came to another image depicting a nude woman lounging over a couch. The focus was on her face but there was detail in her hair, breasts, and the curvature of her upper body. The edges were darkened with heavy smudging, the light coming from another place in the picture. He kept flittering after that, coming to the end and then closing the journal.

“I’m glad you like it,” he softly said, resting his hands over the now closed book.

Journey to the East

Elann reacted in a way Noah couldn’t predict, joking that she was fiery before complimenting him. He smiled at her smile, not the compliment, and recoiled a bit as she clambered him, hands on his knees, to peck away at his clothed knees repeatedly. It happened far faster than he expected and he failed to understand her kissing in that place, thinking it humorous and odd. Elann pulled back though, asking what spurred him to illustrate her.

Noah spoke truthfully, “I liked how you looked there. I haven’t been able to do anything else, really, and I said I would think about drawing again in Syliras, remember?”

The answer was simple but honest in the way it was told. He studied her face, searching it for the way she would take his words. She held features he found interesting, most notably her eyes, but her hair and skin were appealing as well. He had studied the nuances of her being, the way her body curved and how her frame was built. He was able to see her naked being after all so long and committed it all to memory. He felt confident enough to draw her without even needing her to pose, she was the object of his fascination and one of the sole bearers of his affections.

Noah looked at the picture again in his lap, the pencil set off to the side on the floor as he had braced himself for her advances. He wasn’t overwhelmed by her, just shocked she reacted in the way she did. It wasn’t extreme, just sudden.

“Do you really like it?” he asked, really hoping her compliments weren’t given for his ego’s sake.

Journey to the East

Noah was a creature of curiosity and he didn’t hold much outside of the realm of interest. Each thing was under scrutiny by him and it didn’t take him long to disregard them, both in his eyes and in his mind. Elann hadn’t been cast aside, if he thought her uninteresting he wouldn’t have approached her as he did the first day they met. To her, he was blunt in his asking of questions, hard in the way he interacted with her, only softening once the brief period of assessment was over. She had captured his interest, Matilda making sure that it was cemented by asking Noah to help Elann to her room. Should things had been differently, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was only five doors down from his in the same hall.

As it were, she had captivated him in several ways, and he thought she was indeed a striking figure to look at, just not in the way she so desired. Noah played particular attention to the eyes of the people and things he encountered because they often denoted motivation before anything else reacted. Elann’s eyes appeared lost and confused the day he met her yet the shine in them didn’t necessarily dull because of it. The quavering perseverance he saw in her irises that day remained with him throughout their time together from their visit to the orphanage onwards.

From the eyes came the rest of the face, the way her nose was shaped, the bridge and the slope downward to the soft bit and flaring out to her nostrils. Next came the small space between her top lip and the bottom of her nose. The curve of her lips was created by the constant skittering of his pencil between the rare glances he looked back to her. Having seen her face for long it was essentially burned into his memory, he could never forget it no matter what, and therefore noticed whenever anything was different on her visually.

Noah’s pencil, once started, never ceased in its movements. Like he did when he was hunting, he played the drawing a few steps ahead, calculating each fast jerking of his fingers that seemed to do a lot yet nothing at all in the same time. Each flick of his wrist produced a small line, the speed of which it was produced told of his confidence. He didn’t hesitate, only looking up to make sure Elann hadn’t moved from the spot she lay. He had deemed her interesting enough to draw, and he said he would think about getting into drawing again once Aimee, his mother, and Elann talked to him during one of their dinners.

It had been years since he picked up a pencil and drew anything and it was apparent to him. Elann hadn’t seen him show his capacity for art at all, but there was a dormant skill in the way he moved and in what he drew. Like Elann essentially taught herself how to use a bow, he had taught himself how to draw from a few years of practice.

Noah continued on her face, pencil turning out into larger strokes as he worked on the rest of her body as it lay there before him. The pallet was included as well, the vague design of what she lied on there in the image as well. Once the framework was established his pinky came and acted as the blender for his marks, a technique picked up by watching another artist in Zeltiva who was his inspiration. Young Noah didn’t actively approach the man in the slightest, simply watching him from a distance as an incognito eagle, a bird on the rafters.

The chimes ticked by, sound being only emitted from their breathing, his pencil scratches, his pinky rubbing, and his vague hums of consideration, unless Elann talked, that is. Finally, he tucked the pencil into his palm and compared his drawing to what Elann actually looked like by letting his eyes flick between her in the flesh and what was on his paper. He turned the journal around then, leaning in to show her what he did and how it showed a great deal of likeness to her in the flesh.

Journey to the East

Since their fight it was doubtful he would bring up the topics which added to their fighting in the first place. He had already scratched off the want to even go to brothels for the food and the fun, despite knowing he wouldn’t partake in the actual purpose to the establishment. Noah had voiced he didn’t care about what others thought of him, his family, or Elann, but his bondmate made it clear she did, wanting to show that she embodied the purity she had been conditioned by all her life. It was something he struggled to understand, actually just deciding to leave it as it were than to understand it. He didn’t have a problem with Yahal, just didn’t appreciate nor see him like Elann did.

He followed Zulrav, the god of storms and the winds that fueled them. The winds and storms came as they wanted and left all the same. There was nothing to lock them down where they were, nothing forcing them to do anything. While Elann hadn’t essentially tried to force anything unto Noah, he had already expressed his detachment for Yahal and any other deity that wasn’t Zulrav. If it wasn’t for Zulrav’s attentiveness and appreciation for Noah’s innate abilities, it was doubtful he’d follow any divine entity at all.

Elann curled under his actions and laughed in a way that made her breathless. He drew happiness from it, not just because it was in their bond, but because she was showing it as well. He laughed, not as hard as she, but laughed to show his enjoyment. As she looked to him, her body tense and relaxing when his hands withdrew, he recognized the fatigue within them. In him tickling her, she managed to shy away from him enough to be on the bed she made on him no longer.

Looking at her tiredness and feeling it in their bond made him yawn, his hand coming up to cover it. Looking back at her, these were the quiet moments he enjoyed between them. Before, when they lived in Syliras, it was commonplace for him to be in her home but say nothing at all. She would talk, he would reply, and he wondered if she took it as a sign of him not wanting to talk to her at all. The actuality of it was that he was comfortable enough to even reside in the closed off room with her without being put off or uneased. She had found her way into his comfort zone without realizing it when she cared for him when his leg was afflicted with injury. Seeing her all the time, observing her, it was how he let her in.

“You’re making me tired,” he said plainly, yawning midsentence.

Noah looked at her again, gazed over her body as it lied there on the pallet on the floor of the wagon. The glance was normal for him but there was curiosity stirring in his mind. It compelled him to stand up, using the bench as an aid, and move towards the front of the wagon to their chests. He opened their shared one and dug around inside it, reaching towards the depths of the bottom with his good arm until he got what he was seeking.

Noah pulled out his journal, the one Elann had found when she saw the papers for the song he wrote on Caesarion. He didn’t stop then though, reaching in again to grab a piece of charcoal, something of a pencil. He set that atop the journal, closed the chest, and grabbed both things before moving to retake his spot with the pillow to his back. He sat cross-legged, opened the journal and set it on his knee. Perhaps surprisingly he took the pencil in his left hand, steadying the pad with his right, as his eyes went over to Elann again. He figured she wouldn’t be moving since she appeared quite tired, near the point of sleep already, so he gave her another lingering glance, something enough to take in the full length of her body and the immediate surroundings before he started scratching away at the parchment in the testing scrapes that denoted the framework of a sketch being crafted.

Journey to the East

Elann’s reply to his conceding was hopeful and it meant she was willing to give for him too. Noah still didn’t have it in him to broach the fullness of his argument for fear it would erupt into something else again. They were close like this once before in their fights and it would be damaging to their relationship and bond if the closeness was rifted. He didn’t want that, so he conceded. Elann’s reaction was enough to give him a glimmer of hope in getting what he actually desired as well. There wasn’t much telling how he would act if they got a home distant from the city.

“Okay,” he said, looking down as she nestled all the more into his lap below.

Noah slowly shied away from her hand as it encroached up to his armpit. He grabbed it and gave it back to her gently. The look he gave her didn’t speak of amusement but it wasn’t hard either. It was a glance of studying but could’ve been interpreted in anyway. Since she knew him though, and knew his faces, she could tell by the way his eyes moved about her body that he was examining her more than showing any outward sign of offense to her gesture.

In a motion of curiosity, he reached forth and put his fingers meticulously at the crook of her neck, tickling there. The clear shift from serious moodlessness to playfulness came like the changing winds and, like they would whisper across skin, his fingers did the same, drawing a reaction from her as his smile came about amusingly as he moved. Noah bore down all the more in his tickling of her, moving down over her sides and down to her legs, hands slipping towards the insides of her thighs to tickle there as well.

Journey to the East

Noah couldn’t explain his mother’s reasoning. All the things she tacitly said when around Elann all those times the four them were together spoke enough to Noah to tell him that his mother did like Elann. Perhaps it was a mixture of patience and understanding with humans or perhaps she was waiting for something to happen. Isabella wasn’t exactly trusting of people too quickly and tended to keep people at an arms distance away. She was entrusting Elann with her last child, her youngest child, the child who was still a baby in her eyes. Whether Elann knew it or not, there was a lot of responsibility and trust in that.

Noah did desperately desire to be near the city for the festivals and the parades and overall ease of access to everything else about the core of the city he missed. The problem was, the closer into the city one became, the less space there was between the houses. In some cases, they were packed tightly together, a cobblestone road just outside the small gated front yard. His own family home was something like that. The yard in the back was large enough to house a chicken coop for the chickens which had been eaten, large enough to house a garden now. It was what he wanted though, something like that.

Elann’s answer was simply put and he waited for the reasons to come. They did, and they were random in his opinion. She never spoke about wanting a farm before yet he supposed there was soundness in wanting one if she never had it before. Noah also presumed her want to provide for them without spending their coin was sound as well. He didn’t really care for coin, never really needing it to the point Elann and others seemed to. As it once was, he hunted whenever he was hungry and only bought clothes when necessary. The golden mizas were but little baubles in his eyes, something to be desired because of their glint and glam, not much for their monetary value.

“It seems,” he repeated. “There are farms outside of the city. We could look further away from the city, I guess, if that’s what you want, so you can have space for the things you want to grow.”

Truthfully Noah didn’t see Elann as much of a farmer. He saw her more as the small gardener type, the one to fill their home and patio with vine plants so she could have the green she so desired all around her. It would’ve fit fine with what he had in mind for a home but she wanted more apparently. He reasoned that it didn’t matter much whether they were close to the city or not, regardless of if he wanted to be.

“Whatever you want,” he conceded without hesitation. “If you’re comfortable it’s fine.”

Journey to the East

Noah struggled with putting his thoughts and behaviors of his family members into words. He understood them perfectly, knew them from what he remembered three years in the past, but couldn’t formulate a cohesive sentence enough to tell Elann what to expect from each exact member. He had done the same when she asked about his sister and mother when they were coming to visit. It was hard to explain a world he understood perfectly to Elann when she didn’t understand him entirely, he was supposed to be her glimpse into this new world. It felt like another language, and it was in more ways than one. He hoped for the best and felt as if nothing major would come their way.

He didn’t even believe Ryon or his father would be a large issue. Elann was a female who would have to prove herself just like every other female had to in their home. What the was problem, in Noah’s mind, was going to be his protective sister and her disdain for outsiders.

Noah shook his head a final time at Elann thinking them violent. He wasn’t aiming to scold or chide her for thinking as much, just correct her thinking. “My mother likes you,” he assured. “It’s a good chance that if my mom likes you, my father will like you too. Really, that’s all you have to worry about with them.”

He drew quiet to listen to her tell him about her preferences for a home and what she wanted to do once they reached Zeltiva. He nodded a few times at what she said, imagining Zeltiva as it was in his memory.

“You’ll like it,” he said confidently, then he smiled in humor. “I don’t think we can have a farm, but you can have a garden if you want. There’s not a lot of land for farming. The houses are pretty close together but if you live on the outskirts you can have a bigger yard. I want to live close to the city though for the parades, so we don’t have to walk far.”

Noah paused, drawing a breath in the next moment. “I’m your family,” he said. “Remember when you said that in Syliras?” If they had never chosen to leave for Zeltiva they would still be in Syliras, it would still be the two of them, and they would still be the only things each other had. They would be one another’s family as she had said.

He creased his brows at her in question, canting his head off to the side as his lips played in a small smile of mirthful disbelief. “Why do you want a farm?” he asked. “That seems… random of you.”

Journey to the East

When Noah could describe and aid Elann in something he would speak with to the best of his ability. He could talk and explain things well enough when he knew about them or when he was confident in them. In this instance, he was neither confident nor knowledgeable. He wanted everything to be alright and if he was confident in what would happen, he wouldn’t have been this worried. He would’ve just waited for it to happen and dealt with the repercussion after the fact. It was stressful having to consider how Elann would be received and how he, himself, would be received as well. Elann seemingly brought on one bundle of stress after another but he didn’t hold it against her in this regard, she had no idea how his family was and he was failing her in that he couldn’t explain them.

“No!” he urged quietly with a creased brow. “They aren’t cruel or aggressive. They won’t be that way to you. They are just… be careful of your words until they get used to you.”

Noah bit on the inside of his cheek, thinking on Elann’s request. He didn’t really understand the question in the way she wanted him to. He wasn’t going to act out their behaviors, thinking it a disrespect and mockery of them.

“They are kind of apathetic, but it doesn’t mean they don’t care about you,” he assured. “Try to think of them like you did me when we first met.” He shirked his head from side to side in frustration because he couldn’t accurately explain his family to her. It was a light feeling but it was a reason he cursed his inability to formulate his sentences at times.

“I really think Aimee can explain it better than I can,” he admitted. “When she comes back to tonight, we can ask her because I don’t want to give you bad information… Nothing is going to happen to you.” His face softened in assuring her.

“What about our house?” he asked. “Have you thought about what you wanted to do when we get there? Do you still want to see the place me and Aimee talked about or did you want to have our own built?” He showed her a half-smile. “It’s a lot to think about, but I really want you to be comfortable there.”

Noah knew Elann had very little to nothing with her when she came to Syliras. He also knew she was savvy and survivalist enough to figure it out for herself, she was more adept at handling people than he was, but his naturally adaptive mindset let him ease into societies relatively quickly. She was from the unforgiving deserts of Ekytol though, therefore she could survive anywhere as well. It was what they had in common, it was something he admired about her. He figured it was a very uncomfortable few weeks for Elann to become acclimated to Syliras’ lifestyle though between her basic handle of Common and her own familial issues being away from home. He didn’t want that for her in Zeltiva.