[ tighnari's gaze falls upon the two horses with renewed appreciation. ]
Fascinating. I should understand their biology more, to discern why it is. But that will be a topic for a different time. So long as they are able to survive in the desert, I have no complaints.
Well, I'd offer to snag you some books on equine biology, but we'll need to travel as light as possible, so your studies may have to wait.
[ they'll be leaving behind all of their little luxuries, but it's a fair trade to make, for safety, and justice. with skill, hard work, and no small amount of luck, they will get to the bottom of this tangled knot of a mystery. ]
Is that supposed to be a deterrent? Please, the best learning is done hands-on. I have always known this.
[ tighnari's next words die in his throat. the scent of padisarahs waft alogn the night air. sumeru city is behind them, the bright moon rising before them. and around them, he hears, the shifting of woven cloth amidst the trees.
he swears under his breath, but there will be time later to be disappointed in his own recklessness; what's done is done. he can't help but be surprised by azar's boldness, and how swiftly the hammer is cracking down, for it can be no other. these roads are heavily patrolled by the matra, to keep caravans safe on the road to the city, bandits know well to keep away, and try their luck on less traveled avenues.
to fight, or to flee?
several things happen in quick succession. cyno pulls hanan to a halt, lifting one hand from the reins to snag his polearm from his back. the scent of ozone is the only precursor to the bolt of electro energy that dashes through his spear, arcing, striking the earth some twenty feet ahead, lighting up the area. cyno's eyes move quickly, counting the bodies he sees in the trees. ]
[ lightning arcs. the scent of ozone sears. in the refracted flash of heliotrope, brilliant in the night, the lit-shapes of four individuals shifting into motion amongst the trees illuminates in the clearing before the light sputters out.
tighnari hears before he sees the whistling arc of an arrow. instinct yanks dalir back. his ears pull back as he hisses in outraged affront: ]
They are aiming for the horses.
[ dalir balks under his hands, taking a precious few step backwards, and tighnari pulls his bow from where he had clipped it to dalir's saddlebag. arrows come to his fingertips.
the next arrow that goes for hanan shatters in midair. tighnari redraws. ]
[ cyno does not respond, only leaps from hanan's back and charges forward.
even in the darkness, cyno moves swiftly, his body an elegant blur as he dances through the trees, leaping and diving, electro crackling like ribbons from his hands and down his polearm, sparking and leaping like dancers in the night. four assailants, their positions memorized; cyno strikes the first archer without hesitation, a hard blow to the head that downs him. he sees the flash of red fabric as the archer falls. eremites. azar had not mobilized his own matra against him, he does not want them to know. perhaps also realizes that they would have difficulties, fighting their own general.
the second nearest drops their bow in favor of a dagger, rushing cyno through the trees, but cyno is fast, deadly, and he counters with ease, landing a crushing blow to the ribs that sends his opponent reeling, crashing back into the grass. cyno's eyes flit briefly to the road again, to tighnari. ]
[ cyno arcs like lightning. he pulls his spear back, the long lean set of his shoulders like that of a young god. tighnari draws his bow. the first shot goes wide as one of the assailant jumps from the trees. the second shot hands, the arrow striking off the side of a rock with expert precision, guiding the assailant to jump back just in time to catch the ricochet in his leg. he goes down with a grunt.
the last approaches from dalir's blindspot. the distance is suboptimal. tighnari jumps down from horseback and puts himself between dalir and the assailant. the flash of his jewels is a lure - the assailant darts forward to grab his arm (a grab, he notes, a grab and not a stab -) and tighnari lowers his centre of gravity the way cyno taught him. he knife goes in between the third and fourth ribs with astounding ease. the man stumbles, and tighnari withdraws, jumping back with a hissed breath. his own hand bleeds; an amateur's mistake. but he doesn't drop the knife until the man stumbles back into the underbrush from where he had come.
silence, resounding. tighnari wipes his hand on the sordid silks of his tunic, and grimaces at the still-bleeding cut where his thumb meets hand. ]
Cyno. [ he calls out with urgency. ] I don't hear anyone else coming. But we should go.
[ it's all over in a matter of brief minutes, and when the battlefield quiets and tighnari calls for him, cyno sprints back quickly, leaping deftly onto hanan's back. she dances beneath him, spooked by the scent of blood, but cyno quiets her with a few gentle pats and some soft words spoken in her preferred aaru. she's seen battle before, but she is not a warhorse.
he sees the flash of red on tighnari's palm, on his tunic; other's, or his own? right now it doesn't matter, he's whole enough to speak and ride, and they should not linger. ]
We cannot chance returning to the estate. To Caravan Ribat.
[ it's not ideal, they're still dressed in their finery and it would make their journey easier if they were able to pack a few things from home, but.. they cannot risk it. azar wants to keep this quiet, it's unlikely that he would send more men to the palace - housekeepers talk - but if the sage is desperate to quiet him..
well, they'll simply have to resupply at caravan ribat, and go from there. ]
[ dalir is less cooperative, but tighnari manages. a few solid clicks and a gentle hand gets tighnari back onto dalir's back. he shuffles both reins to his good hand, and carefully maneuvers his horse around to meet cyno and hanan. something thumps in his chest - he recognises it as excitement. they are going to caravan ribat. the circumstances may not be ideal, but the world spreads before tighnari - and he thinks, how marvelous it is, to be able to choose to go somewhere simply because you want to.
tighnari kicks dalir into a trot to keep pace, his eyes holding cyno's in the night. ]
A full day's ride, if we move quickly. It's across the span of the forests, to the southwest.
[ two days, if they're slowed down, and need to stop into villages along the way. riding that hard might be difficult for tighnari, who's not quite used to travel just yet. perhaps they ought to stop somewhere, if only to acquire some proper clothing.. water and food will be easy enough to find along the way. ]
[ tighnari considers this. he puts his pride aside. it's not as difficult as he's been led to believe. ]
I have a cut on my hand; I can't handle the reins properly for anything faster than a trot. I should ride with you on Hanan so we can pick up speed, and we can switch to Dalir when Hanan needs rest.
[ tighnari takes cyno's hand. mounting once more isn't a terrible experience. he seats himself, and immediately moves to tie dalir's reins to the back of hanan's saddle. then, he motions for cyno to join him. ]
[ with one hand in his own, and the other at tighnari's waist, they get him situated on the saddle before cyno is swinging up onto hanan's back again. it's been a bit since they first rode together, but tighnari's weight is nonetheless still comfortable against him. ]
If you need to stop for any reason, squeeze my wrist twice.
[ the night passes. tighnari's cut stings, but there's nothing for it. with cyno's reassuring presence pressed against his back, he carefully cuts away a swathe of his useless, ornamental silks so that he can properly wrap the wound. half-way through the night, they switch to dalir to give hanan a rest, and on the back of a fresh horse, traverse through the dense vissudha jungle.
the mountains are in the distance, as is the dry wind blowing in from the desert, when tighnari squeezes cyno's wrist twice. ]
[ they're making good time, moving swiftly. the forest is dense around them, but cyno knows these paths like the back of his hand, and he navigates them easily. their conversation is brief, when they speak at all, for it is difficult to hear over the pounding hooves, and none seem to be following them. they've moved swiftly enough to outpace azar's efforts.
still, when he feels that squeeze to his wrist, cyno reacts immediately, slowing hanan to a trot. ]
[ tighnari ought to. the day has been long. the morning seems ever so distant. the night seems longer still. yet tighnari feels wide away. the coolness of the forest night air is as a balm to his heart. what he hears, however, is not the gentle, lush silence of a forest at rest, but a song.
his ears swivel. he gestures for cyno to quiet as he listens to its melodic lilt. it, too, seems ever far away, but it seems a matter of volume than distance. it is not sung with a human tongue. ]
[ cyno not only quiets, but he slows hanan to a walk as well, and then to a full stop, to better allow them to listen.
the song is gentle, warm, almost playful, and heartbreakingly nostalgic. cyno has heard it before, deep in the forests and in open, endless fields. he nods, speaking quietly under his breath, a whisper, but he knows tighnari will hear him. ]
[ tighnari, who has never once spoken to a child, considers this in his imagination - cyno, patiently finding himself on one knee so that a child can whisper into his ear. it's a charming thought in itself. ]
We should follow the song, I think. It's telling us so.
[ oddly enough, children are one of the few that aren't afraid of cyno. they have no reason to be, and know no better, and he is always gentle with them. ]
As you wish.
[ cyno does not like the detour, this will delay their arrival in caravan ribat, but he trusts tighnari's instincts almost as deeply as his own, and really, he should probably rest. tighnari is strong and resilient, but he's not used to hard travel. not yet.
with a click of his tongue, cyno eases hanan off the road and between the trees, the clop of her hooves softened by the thick grass beneath. ]
[ hanan moves to cyno's orders, and tighnari moves with her. the night's chill is abated by the gentle press of cyno to his back, ever-present, ever-sure. the song continues, a faraway lilt made by an inhuman tongue. they never quite close their distance to it. yet tighnari is sure, so very sure, from the bottom-most dredges of the instincts of a valuka shuna that had yet to be beaten out of him - that they were meant to follow this song to its intended conclusion.
the forest grows deeper. the forest grows darker. darkness does not, however, mean the absence of light. bioluminescent flowers bloom along the wayside, unfurling their petals upon their approach like an evening's welcome. fantastical mushrooms scaffold off of ancient trees, casting their unearthly light upon the animal trail. tighnari hears rustling in the forests, little feet pattering along leaves and the trailing streams. he sees nothing. it evokes not fear, but curiosity. the song continues.
out of the forest rises a round, dome-like structure. it looks to be made of clay and stone, with a little round door and leaf-thatched rooves. it looks like nothing human hands would have built. tighnari looks to it, his ear cocked. the singing has stopped. ]
There. [ he's never been so uncertain. he's never been so certain. ] I think that's where we're supposed to go.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Fascinating. I should understand their biology more, to discern why it is. But that will be a topic for a different time. So long as they are able to survive in the desert, I have no complaints.
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[ they'll be leaving behind all of their little luxuries, but it's a fair trade to make, for safety, and justice. with skill, hard work, and no small amount of luck, they will get to the bottom of this tangled knot of a mystery. ]
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[ tighnari's next words die in his throat. the scent of padisarahs waft alogn the night air. sumeru city is behind them, the bright moon rising before them. and around them, he hears, the shifting of woven cloth amidst the trees.
his eyes harden. ]
Cyno. Ambush.
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he swears under his breath, but there will be time later to be disappointed in his own recklessness; what's done is done. he can't help but be surprised by azar's boldness, and how swiftly the hammer is cracking down, for it can be no other. these roads are heavily patrolled by the matra, to keep caravans safe on the road to the city, bandits know well to keep away, and try their luck on less traveled avenues.
to fight, or to flee?
several things happen in quick succession. cyno pulls hanan to a halt, lifting one hand from the reins to snag his polearm from his back. the scent of ozone is the only precursor to the bolt of electro energy that dashes through his spear, arcing, striking the earth some twenty feet ahead, lighting up the area. cyno's eyes move quickly, counting the bodies he sees in the trees. ]
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tighnari hears before he sees the whistling arc of an arrow. instinct yanks dalir back. his ears pull back as he hisses in outraged affront: ]
They are aiming for the horses.
[ dalir balks under his hands, taking a precious few step backwards, and tighnari pulls his bow from where he had clipped it to dalir's saddlebag. arrows come to his fingertips.
the next arrow that goes for hanan shatters in midair. tighnari redraws. ]
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even in the darkness, cyno moves swiftly, his body an elegant blur as he dances through the trees, leaping and diving, electro crackling like ribbons from his hands and down his polearm, sparking and leaping like dancers in the night. four assailants, their positions memorized; cyno strikes the first archer without hesitation, a hard blow to the head that downs him. he sees the flash of red fabric as the archer falls. eremites. azar had not mobilized his own matra against him, he does not want them to know. perhaps also realizes that they would have difficulties, fighting their own general.
the second nearest drops their bow in favor of a dagger, rushing cyno through the trees, but cyno is fast, deadly, and he counters with ease, landing a crushing blow to the ribs that sends his opponent reeling, crashing back into the grass. cyno's eyes flit briefly to the road again, to tighnari. ]
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the last approaches from dalir's blindspot. the distance is suboptimal. tighnari jumps down from horseback and puts himself between dalir and the assailant. the flash of his jewels is a lure - the assailant darts forward to grab his arm (a grab, he notes, a grab and not a stab -) and tighnari lowers his centre of gravity the way cyno taught him. he knife goes in between the third and fourth ribs with astounding ease. the man stumbles, and tighnari withdraws, jumping back with a hissed breath. his own hand bleeds; an amateur's mistake. but he doesn't drop the knife until the man stumbles back into the underbrush from where he had come.
silence, resounding. tighnari wipes his hand on the sordid silks of his tunic, and grimaces at the still-bleeding cut where his thumb meets hand. ]
Cyno. [ he calls out with urgency. ] I don't hear anyone else coming. But we should go.
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he sees the flash of red on tighnari's palm, on his tunic; other's, or his own? right now it doesn't matter, he's whole enough to speak and ride, and they should not linger. ]
We cannot chance returning to the estate. To Caravan Ribat.
[ it's not ideal, they're still dressed in their finery and it would make their journey easier if they were able to pack a few things from home, but.. they cannot risk it. azar wants to keep this quiet, it's unlikely that he would send more men to the palace - housekeepers talk - but if the sage is desperate to quiet him..
well, they'll simply have to resupply at caravan ribat, and go from there. ]
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tighnari kicks dalir into a trot to keep pace, his eyes holding cyno's in the night. ]
How far away is Caravan Ribat?
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[ two days, if they're slowed down, and need to stop into villages along the way. riding that hard might be difficult for tighnari, who's not quite used to travel just yet. perhaps they ought to stop somewhere, if only to acquire some proper clothing.. water and food will be easy enough to find along the way. ]
Were you injured?
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[ it's not worth stopping for, not when tighnari has one other good hand to keep dalir steady. he won't be able to use his bow, but a knife will do. ]
You?
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No injuries.
[ he's the general mahamatra for a reason. a few mercenaries couldn't put a scratch on him. ]
Are you comfortable enough with Dalir to move more quickly?
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I have a cut on my hand; I can't handle the reins properly for anything faster than a trot. I should ride with you on Hanan so we can pick up speed, and we can switch to Dalir when Hanan needs rest.
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[ he'll stand by, to help tighnari up into the saddle, should his injured hand prove to make it too difficult to mount without assistance. ]
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[ tighnari takes cyno's hand. mounting once more isn't a terrible experience. he seats himself, and immediately moves to tie dalir's reins to the back of hanan's saddle. then, he motions for cyno to join him. ]
Dalir's secure. We'll be alright.
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If you need to stop for any reason, squeeze my wrist twice.
[ and with that, they're off. ]
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the mountains are in the distance, as is the dry wind blowing in from the desert, when tighnari squeezes cyno's wrist twice. ]
Wait.
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still, when he feels that squeeze to his wrist, cyno reacts immediately, slowing hanan to a trot. ]
Do you need to rest?
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his ears swivel. he gestures for cyno to quiet as he listens to its melodic lilt. it, too, seems ever far away, but it seems a matter of volume than distance. it is not sung with a human tongue. ]
... someone's singing. But it's not a person.
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the song is gentle, warm, almost playful, and heartbreakingly nostalgic. cyno has heard it before, deep in the forests and in open, endless fields. he nods, speaking quietly under his breath, a whisper, but he knows tighnari will hear him. ]
This is not the first time I have heard it.
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Do you know who, or what?
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[ yet he feels he knows them somehow, nevertheless, and it's a song that soothes his soul, makes him feel at ease, like.. going home. ]
I hear children talk about them often.
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We should follow the song, I think. It's telling us so.
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As you wish.
[ cyno does not like the detour, this will delay their arrival in caravan ribat, but he trusts tighnari's instincts almost as deeply as his own, and really, he should probably rest. tighnari is strong and resilient, but he's not used to hard travel. not yet.
with a click of his tongue, cyno eases hanan off the road and between the trees, the clop of her hooves softened by the thick grass beneath. ]
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the forest grows deeper. the forest grows darker. darkness does not, however, mean the absence of light. bioluminescent flowers bloom along the wayside, unfurling their petals upon their approach like an evening's welcome. fantastical mushrooms scaffold off of ancient trees, casting their unearthly light upon the animal trail. tighnari hears rustling in the forests, little feet pattering along leaves and the trailing streams. he sees nothing. it evokes not fear, but curiosity. the song continues.
out of the forest rises a round, dome-like structure. it looks to be made of clay and stone, with a little round door and leaf-thatched rooves. it looks like nothing human hands would have built. tighnari looks to it, his ear cocked. the singing has stopped. ]
There. [ he's never been so uncertain. he's never been so certain. ] I think that's where we're supposed to go.
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imagining the aranari singing kiss the girl
LMAO
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it only took 500 comments... wheezes blood
IT WAS A GOOD 500 COMMENTS... YELLS INTO MY HANDS
YELLS WITH U
i love them..... sm....
idiots... but also babies...
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