Characters involved are: Khiea (RED), Sylvina (ORANGE), Citan (GREEN),
Logged by Sylvina
Bledavik, Market Road Central
This area is crowded on both sides by seemingly never ending roads of merchants. Signs clutter the and flutter in and about the area, hanging from buildings, ropes draped over the roadway, and on the barrels, tables, and canopies of the merchants. Among the cacophony and busyness of the market, you spot a moderately thin <stairway> heading off to the western side of Bledavik, peeking out from between two merchant carts. This roadway continues to the <north> and <south>.
Khiea has arrived.
Citan has arrived.
This is all a bit...festive isn't it? The Town of Bledavik, bedecked in what Shakhan deemed to call celebratory augmentations. Some colourful bunting is draped here and there, and the wares of the occasional trader have changed. What were simple fruits, vegetables and such produce have been in part replaced by flags, the occasional banner, whistles, rattles, and other trappings of the ongoing tournament. Through the bustle, leaving more space about than is necessary between herself and the proles round about, tiptoes Sylvina Dalant. A picture of health, and good spirits, it seemed. Tournaments are good for business, and this one is no exception.
Festivities! Nothing short of something so cheerful could possibly have dragged Khiea back to this hot and arid town. This is not the most -cheerful- town in Khiea's short memory after all- full of memories of burning homes and unpleasant people, and that distant memory of children lost in sands... But while she would never spare this place a visit normally... Its a -festival-! How could she -not- come? Let everyone else bother with the interest of fighting! For Khiea scurries about the road like a child, neglective to her apparent age, and neglective to the crowds. Because, look! Isn't that nice? Oh, and what about that stall over there? Her focus seems to last no more than moment for moment long, before she finds her gaze drifting to something else. Truly, if nothing more -this- bit of happiness was worth it to come.
Colors. Sounds, and all manner of distractions about for the two travelers who enter Bledavik on the heels of so much more. There was a fight, true. There were two missing souls--also true. But combine it all into one, and there is more than enough time for Khiea to attend and search for glee and for himself to attend and... search. Divide things. It can be done so neatly. And he smiles indulgently as he tags along behind Khiea, looking for all the world more distracted than she. "Do you see something nice? We can bring it back with us..."
Colour. Colour and smell, and that which brings joy, and gives the bustle of the street a certain excitement. A Flag-seller announces his wares, and his drowned out by all the other flag sellers, and banner-sellers,a nd fruit stall owners, who shout in throng, for all the world an enthusiastic croaking chorus, singing the praises of fruit, of tawdry trinkets, of all there is good to eat and drink. For today is a celebration. Hello. Yes, hello, how are you? There you are. You're looking fine today. Sylvina gets more then her average number of stares, as she progresses gradually, and ecstatically down the merchant road, greeting all she sees, her eyes wide with the sheer euphoria of the day that is in it, the atmosphere, and that delightful blueberry wine she had just oversampled.
"Oh, I don't know... Isn't that nice, over there? Or.. Or, look!" Ah, trinkets abound, and Khiea can barely help but skit from stall to stall looking for -anything- and -everything- pretty. If it shines, has colors, or is in anyway catching to the eye, she's there. Multiple times. "Oh, I promised Mister Lukev that I'd get him a get-better present! Because he was so hurt and he's only just getting all better, and... Oh, isn't that nice?" A, a stall of flags and flowers. How -easy- it is to please Khiea, as she jumps about in all the enthusiasm of a child, brushing past this person or that with a hail of high and swift 'Excuse mes' and 'Sorries'. If nothing else, at least she does not stand out in this crowd- for it is varied enough as it is, and full of people just as excited as her, if not more. This is truely a wonderful time to be here, isn't it?
Hmm... yes, a gift would be nice. So Citan but continues to follow, soaking in the sheer -strength- of life all around him. It was amazing. Like only now being out in the sunlight after too long in the frost. And the radiance of Khiea's joy also beckons him onwards, brushing through the crowd to let himself and the girl by as best he can. Why not gifts for as many as possible? Within reason. Something to take everyone's minds off and into a smile once more... "Yes, it is lovely out here." And what else could disturb this day?
A small space in the crowd provides what is perhaps solace from the bustle, as a small clearing, free of people, appears to form around Sylvina. Her hands drop to her sides, and she slows to a saunter, looking up and around at the bunting, the banners, and the sky beyond. o 0 ( ...My, Shakhan has outdone himse...*ow!* ). Sylvina looks down, and the sight of the girl she has bumped into, who looks ready to fall over backwards in a daze, awakens her from that stupor. "Mind where you're going! Silly girl." She scolds, as she regards the girl with a withering stare, which turns into a puzzled glance, as she decides to forgo the usual lecture. Something about this girl...unnerves her. Just when I was having a good time, too. Pooh.
Oh, lovely, lovely indeed! For Khiea's cheerfulness is project as much mentally as it is in expression, as she hops about the street. And isn't that what this day is good for? Finding something to be happy about, to be calm about, when all else is on edge. Let's have this be a vacation, no? "Oh, what about-... Ah!" My, Khiea wasn't even looking where she was going as she collided into the older woman, with enough enthusiasm and few enough people in that area to throw off Khiea's balance enough to have her fall rather gracelessly to her bottom. "Ow!" A short and simple little complaint she gives, swiftly come and gone, as she stumbles to her feet, dusting sand herself off frantically, "So sorry, Miss! I didn't mean to run into.. you..." A pause, as she glances up, finally to the person she ran into. And.. Isn't that awfully strange? That this woman looks, oddly enough.. Familiar. But.. Khiea doesn't know anyone in Bledavik, does she?
Ah? Citan is at Khiea's side, assisting her with standing in the same distraction of instantaneous thought and motion. Is she familiar? "Pardon us, madam," he replies calmly, attempting to fix his focus upon the woman. Khiea? Have you... but that is not possible, is it? And yet, the entire concept of things being plausible or not tends to have Citan check... just to see. And did not so many other rare things occur? Yes. "I am sorry, Miss...?" Lead the question off with a smile and let the blank be filled by a name. With luck.
Sylvina sniffs. How frightfully rude. Someone's pretending to not know her. "Miss Dalant to you." she addresses to Citan, ignoring Khiea completely. "You should keep your daughter in check. She almost knocked me over." a slightly blurred vision fixes itself on Citan. What a charming, charming man. And polite too. "Although, it was not your fault, Mr...". This festival day is a chance to let your hair down, eh? Might as well find myself a man, while I'm at it. We could ditch the kid, and... "Oh never mind. Are you new here? For the tournament?". That thought passing straight from brain through mouth, she tries to keep her thoughts in check, as she begins to regard the whimpering child. o 0 ( ...Where have I... ?... )
Citan has disconnected.
Citan has connected.
And recognition comes into Khiea's eyes slowly, in that sort of slow and gradual way in which people glean names and faces from memory distant, distant past. She was a child, then, wasn't she? Much, much younger, and free of all this muddle of Solaris. But even that had its good points and.. No matter. "Ohhh..." She murmers, wide eyed for a moment, trying to put memory and this person's face together. This... Is the woman who was so odd then? Who held her inside while Bledavik burned, and passed her aside to the Gebler. "Miss... Dalant?" Right. That was the odd thing about her. But.. Well... The last name 'Dalant' could be common.. Right? Well, no matter. Shaking her head mildly, she brushes her hair from her face, giving but a glint of light to shine upon that banding bracelet which tags her what and who she is, "I'm honestly sorry, Miss Dalant. I didn't mean to..." And a pause, and a tenative grin does Khiea give them, to add a chime of, "We came here to see the festival! The tournament is just a lot of boring fighting, after all." And leave it to Khiea to likely be the one person in all of Bledavik to think so.
Ah. Splendid. Identity found and all would be wrapped up and... well. What? Dalant? Let that worry pass over Khiea's mind and find root in his. Either way--does it harm you still, Khiea? Does it... make a difference? And so these circles come into focus and fade out again, and Citan but studies Sylvina's face with faint interest. "I apologize once more." He rests a hand protectively upon Khiea's shoulder, lightening it all with a smile. "We did not mean to intrude." And that, too, is truth. If this is a leftover fragment of a world or family or life left behind... let it be what it is. They will discover its importance if it is indeed a point of matter.
A faint smile crosses Sylvina's face. So that's where. The smile itself is convenient when flashed at Citan. "Not at all. Children get excited, it's their way.". She looks with intent at Khiea for the first time, with a look that would warrant a sainthood in its sheer kindness, and could also probably win an award in the national patronisation tournament. Get out of here. "It must be very exciting...". Seeing Khiea's gneral attitude, she silently hopes the child is still so dumb as to not realise. Turning back to Citan, she is once again the charming lady about town. "Please, enjoy your stay in Bledavik. And feel free to stop by my mansion later for tea, if you wish..." she broadly sweeps her hand toward that stately residence. "Everyone is so busy at the tournament, I doubt I will have other visitors...". Who knows? Perhaps there was yet hope, as she gives what she hopes is a suggestive look to Citan.
Well, Khiea might actually be dumb enough to miss the signals to leave.... But thankfully, she isn't quite dim enough to not realize that something odd is going on in the first place. Well! No matter. It seems like a far flung idea to ruin her day. For what possibly could? "Oh yes, its very exciting! I'm going to get presents for all my friends!" Yes, and Khiea does have the hint that Sylvina could care less. Does it.. Matter? Apparently not. For cheerful Khiea is a cheery Khiea, unfailingly. And yet... She glances up at the mansion, set up and away on that edge of town.. And hopes that Sylvina misses the small grimmace the child gives in responce. Ew. She remembered -that- place, if nothing else. Shall you turn a child away to die, if she pleads at your door? Apparently so, although your name then was the curiosity which saved you.... Ah, Khiea shakes her head sharply in responce to that thought, flinching a little to the memory. No, it truly does not matter now, Mister Citan. How could it? Those memories were happy in their own right, and disturbing as well.. But things change. And things are perfectly happy now. Why worry?
What? Go... visit? "Er." What a wonderfully witty response by Citan, who keeps his hand upon Khiea's shoulder now for his own reassurance. Shall they go and shop instead? Whichever chapter this part of things is, it may pass on. See? And he may take the worry, for it is his now. And hers is to be happy. "I shall make a note to do so," he finally says with a smile, bowing faintly to signal the beginnings of a parting. "Perhaps after my daughter and I finish our shopping here. I shall be certain to note the location." And that could mean any number of things. But continue to smile and allow all manner of vaguaries about his movements, this otherwise innocent man. Shall they move on?
Sometimes at night the darkness weighs on me. The peace frightens me. Perhaps I fear it more then anything. The darkness crushes and envelops, and I lie alone, detached. I lie, and wonder why happiness is so hard to find, and how happiness can be a curse, something to be obtained, that is obtained by all, but those who profess to know it intimately are usually those who do not know it at all. Sylvina nods, and turns without a word. As she slowly walks away, she thinks. Which if us has the better deal? Which of us is the one to know true happiness, and which lives alone, who does not know what the word means? We all need to live...in a state of suspended animation. Detached. Perhaps it is just me, se thinks, as a tear wells in the corner of her eye, and she brushes it away angrily. Perhaps it is just me.
Khiea stares a bit as Sylvina walks away, shifting her weight uneasily as she does so. It is so... -Odd-. How she can feel like there is something important about that woman, worthy of consideration... When all she can remember nothing more than the momentary snapping comments of a woman who was said to send soldiers after her so long ago, when she first met Citan by that tiny little town... Well, memories. Distant, distant memories. And Khiea shakes her head weakly, as if coming out from dreams.. And casts Citan a sort of distracted glance. What shall be done? The woman is not a pleasant one, and not one worthy of visiting on many levels.. But there is curiosity. There is worry, too. And Khiea merely looks.. Confused. And holds it all to one massive, silent question.
Old memories. And something about a garden... "Memories haunt us all sometimes, do they not?" He murmers aloud because he forgets, sometimes, when he does not talk. "Now and then they feel as if they are all we are. Or perhaps, all we will be..." He shakes his own head--not dismissing the fine sense of sorrow but only placing it away for now. It can be savored by the oceans later, companioned with a fine violin piece. "Either we. Wish her well now, Khiea. Wish her well." Understand through him, or simply by the benediction alone... that we are all such creatures at times, worried or no.