New to Giralda, I see. Well, it takes all sorts around here. Take that shifty-eyed weasel by the fire.
Oh, he acts looks like a simple merchant, peddling meager wares, but watch what you say around him. The Empire’s got ears everywhere...
See those two there? They seem all chummy now, but that’s only because Var is trying to convince Jarek to desert the navy in Thisbē and join
those lawless bastards who sail from the Spice Isles. I’m sure that one will kill the other before the week is out, once they’ve got what they want from each other.
Then there’s always the usual mercs; bastards who’d happily kill their own mothers for a coin. Oh, they say those twins from Brelan aren’t so bad,
but a merc is a merc, and money is all they see.
At least there're no damned elves here tonight. One got uppity last month when I insisted the
bastard slept in the stables. A damn generous offer for a half-breed, if you ask me!
Mind yourself if you head into the Wilds. It’s full of things that
would happily eat you and shit you out without a second thought. Even the people who hunt those things are more beast than civil.
Anyway stranger,
what'll it be: a room, or a drink?
SKYE
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Post by Azazeal Mysra on Jan 27, 2021 17:42:06 GMT -6
T
hey could not have asked for a better day to travel by. The weather was perfect and the way had been blessedly clear of danger as the previous legs had been. Truly, the hardest part of the journey that day was cutting through the Norian Bowery without stopping to open their purses to every poor soul that needed it.
The trio arrived at their destination, the Bard’s College, in the early evening. Azazeal thought it an unusual choice for the leaders to convene but supposed that may have been the point. It appeared to be in good shape in the aftermath of the earthquake and was a great deal more accessible than the Citadel at the moment.
A Valarocco sentinel escorted the group to the incomplete-Council’s temporary chambers. The room was upstairs and of a decent size, though a little crowded with the additions of princess Josefin, Athena, and Azazeal.
King Kristophr was in the center of the room. He was commonly dressed, leaning far back in a chair with his long legs propped up on the table. “Ah, excellent,” he greeted casually, lazily plucking the strings of a lyre, “You’re in time enough for supper.”
Azazeal placed his fist over his heart and bowed to the sovereigns. He had only seen the Thisbēan king in person once, from afar, at the Vanyar princess’s introduction-to-society ball. It was strange to not know someone who had played such a significant role in his best friend’s life...
Upon rising from the formal gesture, he met Logan’s eye-line and gave the Vanyar Marshal a familiar smile. “Sires--” he barely began, unable to finish the sentence, suddenly distracted to the point of being jarred upon noticing the woman gazing out the window. “...Isla?”
Time seemed to move at a speed Logan was unaccustomed to after the fire, the rescue, and leaving Noora at her home. He had only been able to stay with her a short time before being thrust back into his duties and those of caring for the community he now found himself in. The Marshal barely had time for another cup of tea, let alone sending word to his men and he supposed his mother that he was well and alive. He would tackle that later, after sending for more backup from the Valarocco and others who would be able to support the recovery effort.
Meeting up with the Thisbēan King was a welcome breath of fresh air to all the talks he had been in prior to being graced with his company. Isto was always something of a wonder to the Marshal, not caught up in the chaos of running a kingdom and definitely marching to his own beat. It was enviable, in Logan’s eyes, that he was able to do so while still managing himself in other company. The King brought up reminders of their history with one another, his near death experience, and of course thoughts of Idrial. These were only increased by Josefin arriving with an escort that the Marshal was familiar with. Logan was pleasantly surprised upon seeing the faces he recognized, giving Azazeal a nod and a small smile in welcome.
“You mean to tell me there's a break in our plans for food?” Logan asked, his stomach nearly growling at the mention of any form of sustenance. He had been so busy throughout the day and had no desire of putting anyone out by asking for respite, not feeling as if he deserved anything like one, especially considering his conversation with Noora. It had replayed throughout his head since it happened, with the Marshal weighing out what it meant to lead but also be there for others when needed. She had truly gotten under his skin.
After the time she had spent in close contact with Isto - finding him wandering the streets and nursing him back to health the following morning - Isla was finding it more difficult to put space between them. She had assumed that the five years she spent away from others in her life would lead her to be more comfortable by herself again, independent and unwilling to rely on others for much of anything. It seemed the opposite had happened. Yes she had spent years and years away from everyone - including one of her oddest and most loyal supporters - but it had only increased her need to be present. The feelings that she thought she had managed to quell with distance had only come roaring back into her brain with a ferocity that was uncomfortable to say the least.
Isla spent a fair amount of time wondering about Isto while she was away, but with the quaking of the land and subsequent rush to get to Noria and plan for recovery, she didn’t have to wonder anymore. There they were, in the same room as they had been time and time again when she was watching over him. Isla took a bit of leave this time, with the Valarocco sentinel and other guards surrounding the building and the small room itself. She didn’t bother turning when people entered the room, knowing they were expecting other leaders and important people that Isla didn’t care to bother herself with.
Isla.
The name was definitely a question, and from the lips of someone who could recognize her even from her back. Isla’s eyes dropped from the window to the floor as she took a breath to steady herself. She wasn’t certain anything would help her keep her cool when she turned around, but didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of those in the room. She turned around, and standing only a few feet away from her was one of the last people she expected to see there - or ever again - her brother.
Her gaze flitted between the new-comers: her brother, an important looking woman, and Athena. Her face softened upon seeing the elf, having only a few interactions with her in the past - the majority of them pleasant. With her eyes set on Azazeal, Isla felt as if she might crumble or burst into flame. He signified everything that had happened with her family to her - the loss, grief, abandonment - and here was, alive and well.
Running was something that Isla did extremely well, and had been a crutch. Running had taken her out of some of her most intense feelings, her grief, and her need for others to think she was stronger than she may have been. She looked towards the door and back to Azazeal, running through her options.
“Az.” She paused, laying her arms across her chest. “Glad to see you’re alive.” She glanced towards the others who seemed to be navigating their own conversations with the increase in company. “Would have been nice to know, I don’t know, years ago?” Isla turned to him, her eyes wandering the planes of his face and seeing her own reflected in it. She considered him for a moment before taking a step back and finally seeing the full picture, what it was he was wearing, and his duties in bringing this woman to the council. “Have you made a name for yourself since you’ve been away?”
[attr="class","torchic-lyrics"]Business first, more work later
[attr="class","torchic-post"] She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. She didn’t need pomp or circumstance by any means but… introductions would have been appreciated. She remained silent for a while, studying the people in the room. She was also exhausted from traveling and would have appreciated a respite before being thrown into discussions about what the people of Noria needed. If that was to happen at all, the occupants in the room seemed entirely content to familiarize themselves with each other and stand chatting rather than get to work. With a soft sigh, Jo stepped forward, her gaze falling to the person she assumed must be the king.[break][break] No matter how jovial, gregarious and bright she was otherwise, Josefin had been accused of being stuffy and stoic when it came to business. And while first impressions mattered, she had men marching to the city to aid these people. Surely a little decorum wouldn’t hurt. But even as she was determined to speak to King Kristopher, he announced it was due time for a meal. She wanted to protest, she wanted to get to work, but the day had worn on her. And as if on cue, her stomach turned over on itself and she sighed again. She glanced over to her traveling companion Azazeal who had absorbed himself in conversation with a young woman… his sister? Evidently.[break][break] ”Your majesty…” She bowed slightly, ”Since we’ve not been properly introduced, before we dine, might I inquire for a raven to send to my men, and the best place for them to bring in supplies so that I might instruct them to do so with haste once they arrive?”[break][break] Dinner or not, they were working on borrowed time, only stealing as much as fate would let them as the people of Noria went without. Even a few moments notice could mean the difference between getting knowledge to her men or not at all. And she wasn’t willing to take that chance with the people’s livelihoods on the line.
Such haste? But, I haven't properly begun to mock you yet!
King of Thisbē
No Magic
81 posts
Post by Isto Rivenn on Mar 2, 2021 15:41:44 GMT -6
“N
ow, now, let’s none of us stand upon ceremony here.” Isto had little appreciation for formalities and was quick to disengage them whenever possible. It pleased him to be the most senior member of their congress if only so he could set such a parameter from the get-go. Unbothered by the Judicar's unfinished report, he set the lyre aside then moved to stand. Josefin was perhaps too young to have remembered him but, in the king’s mind, they were already well and appropriately acquainted. “Please, call me Isto.”
He ushered her further into the room, offering a comfortable chair, and dismissing the Valarocco guard. Isto exchanged a look with the Vanyar Marshal, silently communicating that he was impressed by her determination to get straight to work after what must have been a very tiring, expedited journey. Under less dire circumstances, this might have annoyed him (as he would have much-preferred to eavesdrop on Isla and her Judicar brother), but he knew this was something of a big test for Josefin. It was her first direct interaction with the High Council - some of it, anyway - and an opportunity for the princess regent to prove her capabilities outside of her own realm. Even Isto, for all his want of tomfoolery and shenanigans at every turn, respected the need for knuckling down at present. Still, he would not have objected if she desired some small respite.
“If that is your will,” he agreed with a nod. Isto exited into an adjacent room while the Marshal meanwhile furnished Josefin with parchment and ink. He returned a short moment later, his right arm attired with a thick leather glove where a chrysaetos loyally perched. “Aquila will reach your men more swiftly.” He stroked the eagle’s back. “Instruct them to make for the main gate. From there, we need the troops split into three groups to be stationed in the Merchant Quarter, the Outer Quarter, and the harbor - for which half of the total soldiers should be directed.”
When the newcomers entered, Logan had stood up from his seat at the table. Manners ingrained in his head since he was a young boy had something to do with it, but he had also never met Josefin. He had heard about her, of course, but didn’t have the pleasure of coming into contact with her just yet, as she was new to the council and her position. The Marshal was interested in her ruling style as they appeared to be around the same age, and she was thought to operate in her position with great ease. It was a quality that he strived to have, despite not wanting what power had been thrust upon him in his father’s death.
He gave a light chuckle at the face Isto had pulled, shaking his head and reminding himself that he was in the presence of the Thisbean King, which did not require the same manners that any other council may have expected. Even so, he allowed himself a quick introduction before setting Josefin up with the essentials. “It’s good to finally meet you.” He offered his hand prior to laying out a few writing materials.
The Marshal caught only the initial exchange between Azazeal and Isla - both somewhat of ghosts to Logan at this point, as he hadn’t seen the pair in what had to be years. The presence of the Judicar brought thoughts of Idrial to the forefront of his head, and he found himself wondering how she was, despite having seen her at the tavern only a short time ago. He was well aware he only had to inquire with his sister about the predhel’s well being, but the presence of Azazeal made it that much harder to ignore his ever recovering heart.
[attr="class","torchic-lyrics"]Business first, more work later
[attr="class","torchic-post"] Perhaps Tristonian formalities were more structured and uptight than in other regions but no one seemed as concerned as she was. She had raced to the capital and been ushered in by Azazeal and Athena in order to get her there more quickly and it seemed like King Isto, the Marshall, and the people leading the efforts in Noria were not as swift in their decisions as she intended to be. ”Forgive me… it was a rushed journey and a long one. The Tristonian court is not as… relaxed.” Ever, and it was a society in which her opinion was not regarded highly because she was not a prince.[break][break] But to his credit, the king was willing to act in haste when requested and she nodded, offering a grateful smile as she set about writing instructions to pass on to her men. They would reach the city within three, perhaps two days if the weather favored them, and she would do what she could in their absence until then. ”Is there room in the barracks for my men? I could spare a hundred to bring with me, the rest were… tied up in other missions. If not, I’ll instruct them to make camp wherever they can find room within the city…” She would not disclose the health of her father, nor the fact that was the real reason it was her here instead of him, and why so many of her soldiers had to stay behind to protect the city in case he was to pass and she wasn’t there to take action and claim the throne. Spirits above, she hoped that wouldn’t happen. There would likely be a power grab, any male who had a shred of a claim to the throne was already itching to remove her and install themselves. But perhaps, with the word from the other leaders…[break][break] The Vanyar Marshal spoke to her then and she nodded, sucking in a quick breath as her expression softened. ”Likewise…” It was a good opportunity, at least in some regard, to get to know him. He presided over the decisions Triston made at the High Council… a fact which she wanted to change. But She would gauge his reactions over the next few weeks… months… however long she was to be stationed in Noria… to see if that was a transition that would go over smoothly or not. Many were unwilling to give up their advantages, even if only to allow another voice at the table. ”I was glad to see Vanyar was not so badly affected as the capital.” It was small talk, yes, but it was true. With their attentions focused on one location, it was good that other areas did not need as much assistance.
Having Isto leading the council was certainly giving a bit more life to the proceedings, but Logan was grateful that their other party had arrived so they could get some work done. They had not met up many time since he assumed his position as Marshal, however, the requirements for passing ruling and getting this in motion was often a frustrating one. Logan understood why they still did things as they had in the past - it allowed all parties to be represented and most to be a part of the decisions - but it certainly wasn’t anything that could be rushed along.
The Marshal gave Josefin a small smile and nod at her comment. “I think the both of us have managed to get out generally unscathed, thankfully.” He offered, knowing that Vanyar and Triston were among what he knew to be the lucky places that weren’t impacted by the quake. Other outlying territories also seemed to be untouched as well, the epicenter unfortunately being in Noria itself. He ran a hand through his hair when she asked about her men, wondering when the rest of his would be arriving. He had yet to send word to everyone that he was well, though hoped to write to his family the moment he had a spare second. “Of course.” Logan answered while the King was still otherwise occupied. “We’ve managed to requisition housing for your soldiers in the districts they’ll be assigned to.” He paused. “They’ll have plenty of room at the garrison on their rest days as well.” It was one thing they were able to secure for the parties that were assisting with recovery efforts, something that seemed relatively easy compared to what was ahead.
Post by Azazeal Mysra on Apr 21, 2021 9:06:12 GMT -6
A
zazeal attempted to apologize for splitting his attention so abruptly and resume his report to the king and Marshal. King Kristophr seemed to have happily moved on to other things almost immediately and dismissed his apologetic spluttering with a wave. The Judicar felt relieved and on edge at the same time. Seeing his (furious) sister had set him off kilter. While the rulers didn’t seem bothered, he wasn’t exactly pleased to have acted so unprofessionally in this setting.
He glanced back at Athena - an invitation for her to follow if she chose to - then crossed over to where Isla was brooding. “Likewise,” Az greeted her in return. His tone was not quite as icy as his sister’s (could anyone match her?) but it was evident that their reunion was not a very happy one. As was, unfortunately, often the case with them. Try as they might, there was already a great deal of damage done before they had even met. To say the least, it had proved to be a difficult place to start from.
The Judicar pressed his lips into a thin line at her follow-up comments. She had a way of getting under someone’s skin, or at least his, that made it very difficult not to get defensive or argumentative. It took considerable effort for Az not to take the bait. He was over-tired, embarrassed, and a little flustered. Bickering with his sister in front of Athena, not to mention some of Giralda's leaders, would only serve to worsen their relationship on his side. The chasm was too wide as it was.
“Let’s not do this here,” he suggested firmly. The gaze that met hers was stern yet pleading. “Please.”
Isla scoffed at her brother’s response, her eyes narrowing even more as she regarded him. It had been a long time since she had been around anyone she knew, least of all her family. Being in front of Azazeal was something that maybe if she had planned for it, she could have handled it in a more efficient way - or avoided it completely, more likely. She was very good at avoiding all potential interactions with family or anything that reminded her of them, so this had been quite the surprise. Isla turned her attention briefly to Isto, watching as he exited the room and came back with a bird. She chuckled to herself, but managed to make eye contact with him, gesture towards her brother, and let him know silently that she would return.
“Come on.” Isla said as she moved past him to briefly greet Athena and lead them into a quieter hallway off the main room. She walked swiftly past the Valarocco at the doorway and paused where they could still be aware of what was going on without being so overheard. Isla had so many questions and an abundance of grievances to air, but it seemed she had no place to start. Her eyes flitted between Athena and her brother, pausing on the elf as she spoke.
“It’s good to meet you again. It’s been a long time.” Athena offered her a small smile, a blush rising to her cheeks as she surveyed the pair, wondering if she really should be witnessing whatever it was that was happening between them...
It had been a long time. The last - and maybe only - time that Isla had met Athena was the same place where Isto had nearly been assassinated. It had been at least five years since that point, and a lot had changed with everyone involved. Isla’s tone was completely different with the elf than it was with her brother when she spoke. “I’m glad it’s under different circumstances.” She turned her attention to Azazeal. “But I can’t help but wonder how you’ve managed to fall in with my brother of all people.”
Athena wondered if the relief was evident on her face that what she was dragged into wasn’t a lovers quarrel, but a sibling one. She looked from Azazeal to Isla, her blush deepening as she tried to explain how they had come to know one another. “We met on the road.” She said dumbly, pausing for a moment. “We’ve been working together since then.” Athena glanced at Azazeal then, not wanting to give too much away.
“And what is it that you’re doing now, dear brother?” Isla asked. “It looks like you’ve sold out to whatever this uniform is.” She gestured with a hand as she pulled a face. “Was that a Triston Princess you were escorting in there?” She nodded back towards the other room.
Such haste? But, I haven't properly begun to mock you yet!
King of Thisbē
No Magic
81 posts
Post by Isto Rivenn on Sept 1, 2021 18:08:20 GMT -6
I
t was an interesting thing to interact with Josefin again after so many years. To meet her as an adult when last he remembered her as a precocious, playful child. In the few words they had exchanged, it struck him that she had become a person forced to grow up too quickly. Whereas, Isto was quite the opposite - forced to grow up too late, if indeed he had at all; many would no doubt argue that his development had been more-or-less permanently arrested. He vaguely wondered if she would come to pity his childishness the way he felt a little sorry for her apparent seriousness. Then, he supposed, that initial impressions could be misleading. They weren't meeting under the jolliest of circumstances either.
"One hundred?" the king repeated, a note of surprise in his tone. He was a little underwhelmed by the number, though certainly no less grateful for the reinforcements, he was reminded of how much smaller a territory Triston was compared to either Vanyar or Thisbē. Still, it was a hundred more than they had at present and would be a welcome relief to some of Noria's overly-exhausted resources while they waited for more help.
He was reticent a brief moment; thoughtful. Then, with a circular motion of his hand, he quietly said in an aside to the Marshal, "We'll... muddy the numbers. Distribute some of ours to hers." Isto nodded decisively to himself. Yes, that would do well enough. Once their plans had been finalized, it wouldn't matter if the embellishment was later found out.
While the princess regent finished composing her missive to the incoming soldiers, Isto directed the incoming servants who had arrived to set out their modest supper. He freed Aquila to perch by the window Isla had previously haunted, collected some sheets of paper with messy scrawl, then rejoined the other leaders at the table. The king waited until their privacy was restored before saying anything of import and, in the meantime, he served everyone rather full goblets of Annorican wine.
"We had word this morning," Isto began, gesturing an invitation for Josefin to eat while he and the Marshal got her up to speed, "from Dholen Sûr. They will not send soldiers but they will be able to send some supplies to Noria. Namely: building materials. Conversely, Brelan will send soldiers but neither food nor supplies." While it wasn't exactly great news for the capital, it could prove rather advantageous for Triston. Whether Josefin knew it or not, Isto and Éodred would be filling her in on why soon enough. "Both, however, are willing to take in refugees. And, as expected, no reply yet from Galeros or the other further outlying communities."
The Thisbēan king paused to take a long drink of wine and sighed satisfactorily after he had swallowed it down. "Mm, very good year!" He cleared his throat softly, then tore off a piece of bread as he continued with the business at hand. "Now then, what this ragtag little congress of ours needs to discuss comes down to quickly stabilizing the city and taking pressure off of the limited resources. Éodred and I have identified three temporary measures for this: curfew, rationing, and evacuations."
“As to the matter of rationing: regrettably, this must include all manner of drink as well. The last thing we need is to have the city run dry while trade routes are incapacitated...” Isto savored the next sip from his goblet for several seconds. His thoughts turned back to what still needed discussing, happy enough to charge ahead as he found his underused work groove. Perhaps they would even conclude at a decent hour, if the princess did not have many questions or objections. “Could Triston give safe harbor to those who have no where else to go?”
Post by Azazeal Mysra on Nov 25, 2021 9:34:39 GMT -6
“T
hank you,” he said quietly. The tension in Azazeal’s body felt a small measure of relief at Isla’s acquiescence to talk elsewhere. He followed his sister away from the Council’s meeting room and gave Athena something of a grateful look when she followed too. Perhaps the elf's presence would help to keep either of the Mysra's tempers from boiling over...
Isla greeting Athena with a casual recognition was surprising, to say the least. Azazeal looked puzzled by their acquaintanceship. He wondered when and where their paths had crossed, and whether it was a good thing or not. Isla’s disposition toward Athena seemed pleasant enough, at least.
When Athena gave a brief explanation as to how she knew him, he found it interesting that her answer was both vague and not entirely truthful. This made him all the more curious about her relationship with his sister. Then again, perhaps Athena was simply in the habit of giving away very little when it did not benefit her to otherwise do so. His gaze lingered on her a moment before turning his attention back to Isla and offering a small nod in support of Athena’s story. “How is it you two know each other?”
“Sold out.” He repeated the insult with a breath of mirthless laughter, trying very hard not to be set off into a verbal battle with his sister upon reuniting after some years apart. Az answered her question with as neutral a tone as he could muster, “I am a Judicar. Correspondence is… limited during the training years.” Although he had more or less ignored the jabs Isla had gotten in so far, Azazeal could not resist throwing one himself. “Turns out Cyn Dosan prisons aren’t in the habit of accepting post anyway.”
Without waiting for a retort from Isla, he pressed on, “And what about you? What have you sold out to in order to have a place in a room like that, dear sister?”
Isla had been thrown by running into Isto at random, but seeing her brother evoked some buried feelings that she had not expected to express any time soon. She was irritated that she had to be in Azazeal’s presence to begin with, but the addition of his new companion would hopefully help deter the pair from having a reunion laced with the frustration and bitterness she had held for years. Isla’s eyes flitted between Athena and her brother when she explained how they fell in with one another. She couldn’t help but notice Azazeal’s gaze lingering on the elf as she spoke, her interest piqued by the action.
Isla was brought back to the present by her brother’s question, giving him a shrug before responding. “I was working when we met. It was the first time I had been employed for someone that wasn’t going to end me up with the likes of you.” Isla arched a brow at his uniform, knowing that she merely had to look at someone like him the wrong way in order to get locked away again. She had happened upon some Judicar in the past, narrowly escaping their apparently well trained clutches.
Isla laid her arms across her chest before her eyes rolled to the ceiling, wanting to get another jab in. Her attitude changed at his comment about her whereabouts the past several years. Isla's face fell, realizing that he had apparently looked for her at least once since he had left Farringor.
“Cyn Dosan prison?”Athena breathed out, her voice almost a whisper. She had heard horrible stories about those places, and to think Isla had made it out from the islands and ended up here…
“You knew where I was?” Isla's voice pierced through Athena's thoughts. Her brows knit together as she took a step towards Azazeal. “You knew where I was and just let me rot there?” Her hands gripped onto the front of his leathers, wanting to shake him. She could feel her blood boiling the longer she looked at him, her grip tightening as seconds ticked by. Isla had at one time revered him as her eldest sibling despite not really knowing him at all. She would wax poetic in her head about his return to their family as a child, only to be let down time and time again. That seemed to be a trend with her family, which is why she had vowed to never let anyone get that close to her again. Isto had managed to change that.
Isla thought back to the man in the adjacent room, quickly releasing her grip and taking a step back from her brother. “I haven’t sold anything, brother.” She paused. “The last time I saw Athena,” her gaze flitted to the woman before landing back on Azazeal. “Isto - the King, I mean - there was an assassination attempt and he didn't die, so he trusts me." She paused "That was years ago. Before Cyn Dosa."
Post by Azazeal Mysra on Dec 3, 2021 13:46:01 GMT -6
T
he attempt Azazeal had made at being venomous toward his sister had backfired spectacularly. It had been a foolish gambit as her armor was much stronger than his and it was a combat for which he was ill-suited.
His intent had only been to embarrass her the way any pair of bickering siblings did. Which, in retrospect, was laughable considering how little they really knew each other and how different their personalities and values were…
Somehow Isla’s imprisonment on the island had been turned back on him. Like any part of it demanded his responsibility. “It’s not that sim–.” The way she accused him of leaving her there struck some deep, unhealed wound in Azazeal, affecting him in an immediate and significant way. Triggering something he had not been fully aware was living inside of him. There was a sad sort of rage in his eyes; not unlike a scared child trying to be brave against some sort of injustice against them. His eyes rimmed with the threat of tears and his body was shaking.
“I AM NOT YOUR SAVIOR,” he roared.
The words were not entirely directed at Isla. The whole of his life had been dedicated to keeping the Mysra family afloat some way or another - whether he was there or not. Even now, he felt honor-bound to keep sending money to siblings. To have secretly sent ultimately futile bribes for Isla’s release. Keeping only what he needed and sometimes not even that. How much Isla was aware of any of that, he was uncertain, but giving her the benefit of the doubt on that front didn't make her insinuations sting any less.
Az flinched slightly when she grabbed him. Internally, he braced for violence. To his surprise, Isla kept her anger in check and released her hold on him. There was a long silence between them after that and Az took the opportunity to breathe himself back into a slightly calmer disposition. The Judicar’s eyes stayed fixed to a spot on the ground. He couldn’t bear to look at either woman for several moments.
“The best I could do… was to make sure you stayed fed,” he added in a quiet, embittered tone. “As ever.”
Blood seemed to be rushing in his ears and his stomach was twisted in a horrible knot. He needed air and couldn’t register much else of what Isla was saying just then, so he opted to make an abrupt leave. “Excuse me,” he half-whispered, taking care to move past Athena without touching her to get through to the stairs.
Athena couldn’t help her comment about the prison, and wondered if that had played any part in the way things had gone quickly downhill. Isla had seemed icy to begin with, and the elf wasn’t sure if anything could be said or done to change her attitude regarding her brother. Athena winced when Azazeal raised his voice, but she could only begin to imagine what the pair had been through both in their family and their nuclear relationship to cause such strife between them. She and Azazeal had only spoken briefly about how he had not been back to see his family, but had attempted to support them throughout his time away. Athena got the feeling that Isla might not be privy to that information, and the look on her face after Azazeal left all but confirmed that.
“Az.” She breathed as he moved past her, wanting to help in some way but knowing at some point the pair would have to work through their issues to get to the other side. Athena was glad it hadn’t come to blows, though she may have been the least bit useful in that outcome compared to whatever this was. She let out a sigh as she tore her gaze from the stairwell, focusing instead on Isla.
The other woman's eyes were glued to where he had left, tears of frustration (and possibly something else) running down her cheeks. Athena took a step forward and cleared her throat, garnering Isla’s attention. “He has no idea what it’s been like.” Isla finally spoke before taking a deep breath and wiping her face.
“It sounds like perhaps you don’t either.” Athena countered quietly, her own arms laid across her chest. Isla began to protest and Athena held up a hand. “I don’t know either of you as well as I would like, but you haven’t even bothered to hear another story other than your own - and for how long?” She asked, seeing more of herself in Azazeal’s younger sister than she would care to admit. “How long are you going to let that be the only narrative for you? For him? For your family?” Athena arched a brow before turning on her heel and heading after Azazeal.
Athena moved quickly down the stairs and out into the front courtyard that seemed to now be a meeting point for the guards as men with varying insignia milled about. It only took her a moment to find Azazeal, seated on a makeshift bench and staring out past the gates. She grappled with her thoughts for several moments - trying to decide if it was best to leave him be or potentially overstep her boundaries. Athena let out a sigh as her feet moved forward, finding herself sitting next to him and trying to spot what he was so transfixed on.
It had been a long few days of traveling, and surely that was not the reunion he had wanted - or even expected - upon seeing his sister again. Athena cleared her throat, still looking ahead. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think she knows - or knew until now - anything you’ve done.” She paused, thoughts buzzing around in her head as they tried to find a place. Athena told him how she had no right to advise him on anything as she did not have any siblings or even a blood family to speak of, but that she could see how deeply they cared for one another. “Sometimes anger is the easiest emotion to express, but it feels misplaced with the both of you…” She trailed off, turning towards him and placing a hand on his forearm and giving it what she hoped was a comforting squeeze.
“I could understand if you simply hated one another, Goddess that might be easier.” She gave him a weak smile. “But maybe you just have to get to know one another again. Hear what each other has to say and put the pieces together the best you can.” Athena’s eyes flitted up at the sound of slow footsteps approaching, her gaze lingering on Isla for a moment before her attention was back to the man next to her. “Maybe I should go check in on the council?” She offered lamely, not knowing if he wanted his space or not.
