Worlds of Stone and Ember (Insouciance x Leon)

[insouciance.-]

The days in Khnam were beginning to get shorter and shorter with the rise and fall of the sun. She worked diligently completing her daily meetings and returning home from the no man’s land between the Khnamakal and Carpathian lands to try and negotiate the end of this thousand year war. Was this really the best place for her to be spending her time? she was wasting valuable training hours to prepare for the mrts’akhagh. Would she be able to drive her blade through Davit’vahn? Her best friend that was gifted to her within her mothers womb.The day that they both came into being Uzh would signify the beginning of ceremonies for their tournament. The day that the pair had been born they were destined to meet each other in battle. lest, they make a disgrace of their name and run from the tournament like some others had done. She couldn’t help but wonder what the future might bring as she sat rode dilligently by horse back along the winding road that would carry her and her caravan through the human cities and back to Khnam.

If it had been important, one might think that Lilit’yana had been born with a pretty face, she was smaller then the average citizen of Khnam even in the leather and metal armour that decorated her form. Five feet tall and lean in her build, though not so lean that she was unfeminine as some women of Khnam could be. In truth, it was an annoyance. Her face along with the name that her mother had given to her meant that she would always be perceived as something small and dainty. To the citizens of Khnam, she was the yearning flower, the gentler of a vicious pair. She had been successful in her diplomacy with the Carpathians and when she returned, all of Khnam would dance fore it seemed to her that the end of the war was near. Lilit’yana cast a glance back at her caravan and the tired men that diligently followed behind her… they were exhausted. Night came fast and Khnam was still a full days ride ahead. Pulling on the reigns of her horse she brought it to a sudden halt and turned to look at her tired men

“Find somewhere to make camp before nightfall, water the horses, feed yourselves and rest. We’ll continue moving at sun up.”

she watched the sigh of relief leave the men and sooner then she had been able to completely grasp, her men had pitched camp and hunted something to share amongst everyone. Her own quarters set up a distance away from their own, not because she did not want to be apart of them, but fore the shear fact that she was a woman, unlike the rest of them. It was a sign of respect to give their commander the space she desired to strip herself of her armour and pull her long onyx tresses from the tie that held her hair away from her face in rippling waves that framed her features. she listened to her men laugh beneath the moonlight as she took it upon herself to go to the river to wash the ashen paint from her face from the day. she would be home soon..

 

[Leon]

The daylight had been nothing short of grueling to the man as he had finally found salvation in the form of a nearby forest. He had the been traveling via foot for many days now, taking back roads and long drawn out paths to avoid the majority of interaction with the public eye. He wore a thick hood over his head, aiming to hide his face from anyone whom would try and look, the rags would drape down over his body, the more note worthy of these things being the solid onyx colored greaves against the dark colored plates that rested against the ground. The man would rest against a tree, standing around five and a half foot, possibly pulling five ten. He would take in a deep breath as he had to forge onward and the reason he held in his hand. A piece of parchment that he would open and read once more.
'Friend,
I know that you may not remember me but I am here to guide you on your path. Lilit'yana Razmik, Zhrrang to the throne of the Khnamakal. Kill her. You may question this but you are in a debt that you are to repay in full. It is your duty and if it were not for my intervention, you'd still be in a ditch, pretty armor and all. Regardless of your memory's or not, you are obligated to do this task as you know it to be true that you are no coward. I will know when the time comes if you are truly worth what I've done for you.'
The man would fold the letter up and pull it back into the rags. While he was not keen on ending the life of another, he felt as though, through the actions of one stranger, he was still alive. He had little memories in his head that before but it was surely a small price to play for still being alive. The main issue that he faced was finding this woman as she was currently on the move. What was more, he was only given vague enough descriptions of what the woman actually looked like from a few strangers here and there. While this was more than nothing, giving vague descriptions of 'beautiful' and 'strong' were not traits he could murder someone over.

It wasn't very long until there was a almost heavenly scent, the scent of a cooking meal. His stomach would speak for him on if he would dare move in the direction of the food. How would on go about coming out of the dark and ask for food? His feet had already begun to move while he thought of these questions, the answer would surely come to him as he arrived. The sounds of running water would catch his ears and the need for water sudden overcame him. He had not had much to drink aside from his own saliva and even that had gone dry. The man would fall to his knees at the river side, leaning forward and almost throwing his face into the river but holding back, scooping a handful of water in both his hands to drink from the river. It was only after a couple of drinks that he would give way to pause, turning to see that he was not alone. Not to far off down stream was a woman of whom looked...stunning in the moonlight and he would not help himself but to stare from under the rags that draped over his face.

 

[insouciance.-]

The noise from camp was comforting, the men laughed and if she listened closely she could hear singing and the soft melody of old songs from the history of Khnam. they must be telling stories to each other. Most of the stories just so happened to have the mention of the great king Apker, the first king of Khnam… her great-great grandfather. She listened as she washed herself in the river to the stories of how the first king of Khnam had been kissed by the gods as a warrior from the heavens. gifted wings and skin denser then the metals beneath the earth. Humans called them gargoyles but they called themselves the Khnamakal and she was a Razmik. The name itself in their language was warrior, it was laughable really but she focused her attention on the cool water that washed over alabaster flesh

she had stripped herself of her armour and washed the black paint from her face and she stood now, knee deep in the water in nothing but a simple pair of leather hunters slacks and a tunic that was fitted to her frame, long onyx tresses falling around her shoulders as she let her gaze turn up to take in he brilliance of the moon. the colour of her eyes seeming to catch the light and shine it back at the night sky like a mirror in the night. It was a trait of the noble families within Khnam… eyes like reflective metals of the earth, the Razmik’s just happened to be silver like the surface of a mirror. she was silent for a few moments, using a cloth to wipe at her delicate features at the river when she heard the brash splashing of water and the slurp of someone drinking from the river like they hadn’t seen a drop of water in a very long time. A peasant? a run away human slave maybe? or even just a traveller… whom ever they were, Lilit’yana spared no time for someone she did not owe anything to. She had her own people to worry about. picking up her things, the armour, her weapons and even a canister that she had filled to carry water for herself to get her through the night, she replaced what small bits of armour she allowed herself to wear back onto her body so that she was only carrying the canister of water in her hands with her back turned to the stranger….

the stranger who just drank water like he hadn’t seen it in days…. she hesitated for a moment before she finally spoke, melodic tones leaving her as she let out a small sigh of her own

“ the men will share their hunt with you, if you tell them that i have sent you from the river, Traveller… it seems to me that were not the only ones in need of nourishment and a good nights sleep”

 

[Leon]

Whomever she was, she was quite the breathtaking sight to behold and it wasn't hurting that it seemed the entire surrounds worked for her at that moment. The light from the moon seemed to be giving the woman a personal spot light while the river flowing was only amplifying the ambiance. The eyes hidden in the darkness of the hood as it was obvious where it was that his attentions were. It did not take any time at all for her to take notice of him and there was a moment, just a single moment in which she would look at him but she seemed to see nothing at all. It was odd as he would have assumed he looked sketchy to say the very least but with the sounds of many mean not too far off in the distance, she must be very well protected. That must be where the smell had originated from, the men she was traveling with must have set up some sort of camp and were in the midst of enjoying that very meal. The man would reach down and hold onto his stomach that was seemingly kicking around on the inside.

He would raise his head just in time to see the woman beginning to make her way back to her companions. It would seem that he would have to find his meal elsewhere for the night, there could be the chance that if they had caught the meal, he may have a slim chance himself. The man's attention would shoot up as the voice of the woman would call out and to his surprise, it was to him in an invitation that he would be able to join if he so desired. The man would pull himself up to his face and bow to the woman in earnest gratitude. "Many thanks to you milady. I am humbled." He would pull the cloak closer him himself as he would make his way toward the camp. Upon reaching the campsite, a group of men would turn to see the cloaked figure and stare in bewilderment but he would reply quickly before any weapons were thrown his way. "I was sent by a lady at the river. She spoke of being able to partake of your meal." He was unsure how they would react or if they would simply begin their attack on the starved man.

 

[insouciance.-]

She had never been considered warm by anyone who had ever come into contact with her. But, she had never been called heartless either. She didn’t know if this man was a criminal or if he was a thief or a rebel. What she did know was that she could not watch someone suffer when she had more then enough for all to prosper. Her honour simply would not allow it. What kind of Zhrrang would she be if she did not think of the well-being of the ones who could do nothing for her? She told herself these things as she left the river for her tent and the man embarked on his brave journey to the camp of men. If there was one thing to be said of Khnamakal men, it was that they were all built of great stature. Ranging from 6 to 7ft tall and all brawny in their tone. Even from her tent, Lilit’yana could hear the muttering amongst them as the man came before them in the camp. They had hunted a buck and roasted him on a fire for the entire camp, sharing the rice that they had received from the diplomatic trade amongst themselves. They had yet to deliver a fine plate to their Zhrrang and there was more then enough for them to share... but still, she had invited a stranger to camp.... “What was she thinking?” “Maybe she wasn’t..” “when has the Zhrrang ever been irrational?” “Never. She would never do anything intentionally to harm someone.” “Every one of us knows that we are her priority...” “shut up,shut up, shut up! Before she hears you.”

The music had paused for only a moment before it began again, the meaningless chatter began and the men returned to what they had been doing before and one man in particular, blonde and statuesque in his build came forward to greet the stranger with a smile, a laugh and a cup of wine to warm his insides

“Come then stranger! If the Zhrrang says that you will sit with us, rest with us and join the camp for a meal then it is so! Kind hearted our lady commander is, not all men are so lucky”

 

[Leon]

The cloaked man would turn ever slightly as he began to hear the whispers coming from the soldiers. It was almost overwhelming as it seemed that it was one against he world and this world was not so sure about him. Even once the merriment began up again once more, it was now planted in the back of his head and he was not sure how he would continue. He couldn't turn away because she had offered and he had accepted simply by coming and it would simply be a disservice and insulting toward the one that had given him this chance to continue on another day.

There was a single man that would come him, a blonde and tall man whom seemed, warming as he would smile and bring a cup for the stranger. The cloaked man would focus on the wine as if it was a holy grail of objects and as he would take the cup and stare down into its contents and would tilt the cup to his lips. Bliss. The stranger would grow weak in the knees as the liquid would overcome him in the best of ways. It was better than river water and given his most recent situation, it was in the running for the best drink he had ever had. There was then a pause as the cup was pulled down and he would speak. "She is...what did you call her, the Zhrrang?"

 

[insouciance.-]

The men cut meat from the venison and shared it amongst themselves in a feast fit for kings, or at least, fit for the Zhrrang Lilit’yana and her men. They sang and they told stories, all in the comfort of each other’s presence as they had a meal put together for their Zhrrang. Fore, as long as she had been their commander, she ventured into danger first and she would fill her stomach last. To ensure that everyone of her men had prospered before herself. Something that only her men knew, some of them had previously belonged to the caravan of Davit’vahn and life there was different beyond measure. The men easily took the new comer into the camp, they offered him food and more wine. Even a spot near the fire to rest his head if he chose to stay until daylight. The blonde man leading him through the camp and away from the earshot of the Zhrrang.

“You’ve never heard of the Zuyg’mas Zhrrangs of Khnam? Our commander is the Vsem’tgha Lilit’yana. If we’re lucky she will win against the Vsem’aghjik Davit’vahn and become our T’aguhi one day. But all of that would be of little interest to you, I suppose. Come, eat while I gather up something to feed the Zhrrang now that all of the men have eaten their fill.”

On the other side of camp, the Younf woman had stripped herself of the armour and adorned herself in traditional clothing from Khnam. The fine silks draping over her form much like the cottons of south Asian adornments. She took it upon herself to go over several maps so that she was able to better direct her men through the safest route back through the treacherous mountains to the hidden city of Khnam. Only the shadow of her form leaning over a table surface indicating that she was busying herself with work away from her men.

The night went on and soon the light from the riverside tent ousted and even the men’s camp quieted for the night. Fore sunrise would come quickly and then they would be on the move once more back to their fabled city.
————-

Khnam Vocab Key: (for your convenience)

Zuyg’mas : Twins (two halves)
Zhrrang : heir
Vsem’tgha: Princess
Vsem’aghjik: Prince
T’aguhi: Queen

 

[Leon]

The cloaked man would glance around, the band of warriors would seem merry in their meal now. Seemingly pleased with both the meat and what they had done not to long ago. With individuals like this, the woman must either be of a high royalty or of an equally high standing in the military of her country. It did not take too long for the men to seemingly come to find the stranger as more of a common-place, either because of his seemingly non-threatening demeanor or that they knew that if it came right down too it, he would surely not be a problem. Either way, they worried more about themselves than him.

The blonde man that had presented himself to the stranger first would speak to him that his commander was the Vsem'agha which was the princess. So, she was both of what he had assumed and upon hearing the name once more, he would reaffirm that this was the one he was looking for. He wasn't sure how this was going to happen as he now have conflicting morals of the situation. It seemed that she was well liked but most soldiers liked that of whom they severed. Though, she seemed to have a favoritism among these soldiers. The stranger would turn to see that she seemed hard at work looking over something in her own tent.

As night would fall upon the camp and everything was silent with the exception of the snores and mumbles of dreams being had. The stranger's face would be covered by the cloth more so to keep his face hidden. There was a moment and then, the figure would rise in silence. The man would make his way through the sleeping men like a specter, the rags shifting with his movements as he made his way to the tent. The black armored hand would reach out and take hold of the bottom of the tent flap and he would then pause. Which was more important to him? She had given him food and drink and welcomed him along with her men but how long would that last? What of his prior commitments? Would he have the chance like this twice? He would slowly pull the flap to the side and aim to enter the tent.

 

[insouciance.-]

There were many things that raced through Lilit’yanas brain as she lay soundlessly in her tent. Her men slept, some of them even falling deeper into tsnar k’nel. Fore no one slept like the Khnamakal slept. To the human eye, it would appear as if the men themselves had turned into stone beasts beneath their cloaks that were only intended to keep them warm until they reached REM sleep and turned to stone. Tsnar K’nel… she would need to rest in that state for a time if she wanted to keep her strength up for the long days ride ahead, but it was a vulnerable state for any citizen of Khnam despite the perks. While their skin became impenetrable by anything not crafted with a diamond edge, like all things that were stone, they were left immobile and vulnerable to shattering if pricked just right, with enough force. it was something that they needn’t worry about when they stood as Mardkayan. Even now, she was human in appearance, her flesh supple, her body warm, it was different if she invoked Koriz Banvorakan…

why were they so different? the men told stories of Apker and his blessing from the gods… but this… in all her sacred knowledge of the Khnamakal that she could not share, was not a blessing,
it was a curse…

only the distant snores, light breezes rustling the leaves of the giant oaks around them and the quietly moving river filled her tent with noise as she lifted a hand into the air to examine her palm in the moonlit tent.

The stories of old, they were lies..

Her brother, revelled in blood and ran his armies through the carpathian mountains, often destroying her efforts in ending the thousand year war, but where would they be if the two species fought until they both crumbled to nothing?

the answer to that was nowhere.

Her reeling mind was silenced when the slightest crush of gravel near the entrance of her tent drew her attention. Perhaps it was a good thing that she could not sleep after all, and an even better thing that she hadn’t fallen into Tsnar K’nel, lest she be in too deep a sleep to have noticed even an explosion in her camp. The noise was subtle, but not so subtle thet she hadn’t noticed. Whom ever came near, they were very good at carrying themselves but no one was entirely silent and undetectable. Not even herself as she reached for the silver bo staff that shined with the same reflectiveness of her eyes in the shrouded tent. She stood in an almost silent rustle of fine silks as the very stranger she had invited into her camp ducted his head to let himself under the heavy fabrics of the tent. at first there was rage, and then curiosity, but she wasn’t a fool and she wanted answers. In the dark, he might not have seen her, but that was if he was human.


She spoke low enough to be heard as she stood at the back of the tent in the dark, but not so loud that someone in her camp might hear and be woken from their sleep

“If you are but a lowly thief then you are a courageous one and you should go now before I am forced to cut an arm from your body. If you are not a thief, then I advise you to tell me who sent you, and I will kill you swiftly, If not, then there are 100 men beyond this tent that will drag the name of your master from your lips.”

-----

Khnam Vocab Key:

Mardkayan Der: Human Standing

Koriz Banvorakan: Stone Shift

Tsnar K’nel: Heavy Sleep

 

[Leon]

The stranger would come to enter the tent only by mere moments before a voice would come out from the darkness within. The Vsem’tgha would give the man a simple enough final demand and statement of terms. He could either stay and find punishment or he could leave. If he were any sane person, he would surely take the option that drew his life out more so than coming to face a commander of what seemed more than a fierce unit of men. While the title could be empty, the men would make it real and the tone of her voice seethed that this was true. He could see nothing within the tent and would have liked to bring a bit of fire into the pitch black. "I have come to steal nothing from you, thievery isn't something I could see myself doing. It is your life that I have come for in order to repay a debt. I was hoping that I may try and kill you in your sleep but your people look to be sturdier then so I am still unsure if that would have been the best." He would slowly inch further inside as he would let the exit of the tent close behind him.

"I don't think I used to do things like this but we can not fight the duty we are bound too. Killing you while you are aware does seem like a more honorable way of things. I heard you were in a battle now with your brother, the Vsem’aghjik? I hope that is how it is pronounced. I am still trying to get your words but I think I am starting to comprehend a bit more." The cloaked head would turn, looking for something in the empty nothingness. "I would have been pleased to see you in actual battle. You are stunning to behold and the thought of you in a battlefield is both something that would put me in high spirits and melancholy at the same time." He would raise his hands up, the black armor blending in with the darkness, its jagged edges tightening as he would close them into open palms.

 

[insouciance.-]

Lilit’yana found herself standing before the stranger in the darkened tent, her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the tent and the moon was bright enough to penetrate the darkness through the small opening at the top of the tent that allowed the air to flow freely while still shielding its inhabitants from the elements. Careful steps carrying her across the back of the tent to draw a match from a small box of her belongings. Her gaze never left the stranger and it wasn’t too hard for her to come to the conclusion that he was blinded by the darkness in the tent. She stood, staff in hand as she struck the match and touched it to the lamp that rested near a pile of scattered scrolls. maps, letters and documents from the diplomacy mission she was only returning home from. Light touched everything within the tent in that moment and she listened to the short tale that he shared with her. Her life to pay a debt… It was enough to make her scoff and more then enough to bring an amused expression to her delicate features.

“So your plan was to kill a princess while she slept soundly in her tent to repay a debt? You speak of duty and honour like you have honour to defend. Tell me, where is your honour, Stranger?”

it was daunting really, she had allowed a miscreant into the camp. fed him and even ensured him a safe place to rest his head for the night along side her prized soldiers. Still, this mans intention was to kill her, and to slaughter a man blinded by the darkness made her no better then a man who would slink into the tent of a woman in the night intending to murder her.
She had demanded answers and all he had done was bring up Davit’vahn. Could it be? 6 moons before they were to become Uzh, had he been coward enough to make an attempt to steal her birthright in the night? Such accusations were punishable by denouncement and exile if she couldn’t prove it.

the inside of the tent itself was large, the skins and wools scattered across the fabric cot tucked into a corner beneath shear draping and silks. She was a commander, but she was also the Vsem’tgha of Khnam and her men had been meticulous enough to dress the interior of her tent as such. The armour had been cast away and the paint had been washed away from her face and she stood now, dressed in the delicate silks that were typical of nobility within Khnam.

she took the staff within her hands then, her gaze falling to look at the seemingly seamless surface of her staff with a sad expression

“Is that who sent you? Vsem’aghjik of Khnam, Zhrrang Davit’vahn Razmik.”

 

[Leon]

The man would try and listen and look for any sign of movement within the confines of the tent. He would turn as he thought he heard footfalls but would not strike just yet, not wishing to fall into a trap. His body would soon shift at the sound of a matchstick igniting and the flicker of light to follow. The light would follow to a lamp which would further illuminate the inside of the tent. Out of the corners of the hood, the man would see all of the works of a rather busy individual for someone whom had set up camp not to long prior.

It seemed that she found something amusing but of what, he was not sure. She would point out that murder in the middle of the night seemed to lack the honor that he was going on about. "Better for ones death to be painless and unknowing. No unneeded struggling, no crying, no fear. I find peace in that and in peace I find honor."

It was in the new found light that he could properly see the one he had been sent to kill. She did look like that of a princess at that moment, the fine looking cloths that surrounded her and the clothes she wore were obvious signs that she was highborn as he had never laid fingers on such things. He would then take note of the item she held, a staff that seemed unbreakable to the eye, it was rather beautiful and the idea of its end covered in the blood of an enemy was rather poetic.

She would then announce the name of the one that had ordered her death and spoke of the Vsem’aghjik, the prince. The cloaked figure would pause for more than a moment. "I can not answer that question. If I were to do so and not take your life, I would be betraying the one that saved my life." The gauntlet's fingers would slowly curl, taking a more menacing posture. It was then that he would pause, there being a sort of twitch to his head before he would slowly draw a hand back to hold it steady, the other unmoving in its posture. "I know little of the way of the warrior of your people. Now that my assassination has failed. How would a warrior of Khnam proceed?"

 

[insouciance.-]

She couldn’t help but wonder what the weight of her life compensated on the scales of fortune as she watched the stranger. She couldn’t read him, there were no expressions on a cloaked and hidden figure after all. She was the Zhrrang of Khnam.. or, at least one of them. A trained warrior to be the leader of a nation of warriors, that much he obviously knew but in his approach alone it was clear that he was not a member of Khnam’s Vorsord, not one of her own and not one of Davit’vahns

his posture became more menacing and she couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that tugged at her delicate features as he asked how a warrior of Khnam would proceed. Her stance relaxing as she lifted a hand up to gesture to the surroundings of the tent, that they could now both see clear as day. obstacles, positions and even weapons… he spoke of assassination in ones sleep like it was a thing of mercy, for some people that might have been preferred, but for her? it was a robbery, a disgrace to have not even the chance to battle for her own life. To oust her in the night, would have damaged her position, even in death. she had already done the honourable thing on her part in shedding light on the darkened tent, giving a blind man the opportunity to battle fairly for his life.

‘You wish to know how a warrior of Khnam would proceed? I’ve already taken steps in that position.. You know my name, my station, where i stand and where my weapon is… I did not creep towards you to attack you in the darkness, but to illuminate your surroundings so that you may not be blind if you chose to fight for your life instead…

Death, Death before dishonour.

But you are not of Khnam, that which is wild moves to it’s own law. So, tell me, what will you do now?“

 

[Leon]

She would smile, not something he figured he would have seen at a point like this. The figure would simply watch as she would seemingly present him the area around them. She would then claim that she had already showed her hand in her ways. The figure would let his head look her up and down and then let his posture turn into a more passive one, his arms coming down to his sides, palms open and facing toward the woman to show that they held nothing.

"I am Leynar of no land. I hold no title to give." He would raise a hand slowly to the side of his hood. There was hesitation as he took hold of the side, a moment would pass as he would slowly pull it back just enough to show his slicked back hair but the most noteworthy thing was the long scar that was slashed across his face. He would look the woman in the eyes as if to make sure that his face was seen and then, he would pull the cloak back over, his face returning into the unusual darkness.

"I will take whatever honor is shown to me. I will now give you your death or you will give me mine." His hands would raise slowly, taking his former stance, his left hand reaching further than his right, both held claw-like ends at each finger tip. His body would lean forward, closing the distance between them quickly and low, aiming to drag his left hand up the center of her body from the ground up.