• Closed • Meeting the Mage

Jon and Zafir.

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Zafir
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Ashan 19th, Arc 718
Did they deserve to burn?

The question had been present on Zafir's mind as he observed public debate take place in the city square. Since he had heard of the happenings in Rynmere the trial before, the issue grew more and more pressing in his thoughts. Ne'haer had its many flaws, but, being a port town, the lack of access to information was not one of them. It had been the word on every concerned citizen's mouth for the entire cycle. Mage burnings in Rynmere. The threat of magic growing more present. There were even some whispers that mages were running from Andaris to seek refuge in more open cities. Cities like Ne'haer.

He knew what an Ellune would feel. Should feel. Their Cult of Tried taught from the earliest age that magic was the bane of every mortal race, and that it had been in their Immortal Father's infinite wisdom to demand, as a part of their devotion, to refuse the temptation of unnatural power. That in order to live a worthy life, they would rely only on their natural gifts and what their Immortal Father deemed to give them. It was also in their Immortal Father's infinite wisdom to get his heart ripped out and leave the Ellune to fend for themselves without his guidance, so Zafir wasn't sure how much stock he put into that.

Yet, the idea of magic still unsettled him. The idea of another individual existing with unknown power that they barely understood, it seemed to the Ellune like giving a blind man a broadsword. Idiotic if lucky, lethal if not. What check could any normal citizen present to a mage's power? What system could possibly exist in which such individuals given this power could be trusted not to abuse it? Zafir may not have known much about the arcae, but he had seen enough men and women put into places of unfair advantage to know how that turned out. Without a system of checks, a balance to rival their strength, Zafir couldn't see such people live in peace among others.

There was a lull in the open argument taking place before him. Zafir stepped forward.

"What other balance can we offer?" Zafir asked, responding to the over-arcing question plaguing the square. A large presence, in both body and voice, the Ellune turned some heads in the crowd as he made his voice heard. "Magic is as variable as the people that use it. I'm sure there are good mages, just as there are good citizens. But the average citizen can't level a building or change someone else's thoughts in their head. I don't intend to suggest that what is happening in Rynmere is right, but what guarantee other than fear of strength can we as people provide to protect our friends, our families?"

Mages were people. Zafir understood that. However, they were unknowable variables that more often served to upset balance and endanger life than serve or protect it.

"Magic may be a tool, but it is a tool too unwieldy to be used by anyone," Zafir offered up before a counter-argument could arise. He drew himself tall and made his voice boom louder across the mummers of disagreement. "What is happening in Rynmere is cruel. It is barbarous and deplorable. But until a better alternative presents itself, it might prove necessary. Look to Lysoria if you don't believe. Imagine if the rumors of their mage courts are true. What defense could we mortals offer against an army of the arcane? An army that exists both inside and outside these walls."

Having said his peace and played the ssessfiend's advocate, Zafir didn't wait to hear how his argument affected discussion before leaving. While in Ne'haer, the Ellune had to be careful with how much attention he could draw to himself. His kind weren't uncommon within the religious city's walls, but they were recognizable. The last thing he needed was a confrontation with his shamed family. Or worse, for someone to take exception to his presentation and force a more violent form of debate than the Ellune was used to.

Judging from the two unsavory figures which had, unknown to him, taken to tailing Zafir as he exited the impromptu public forum, he should have been worrying more about the later than the former.
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Jonathan Burr
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Jonathan had just arrived in Ne'Haer, seeking a mage to teach him. He was tired, and leading his horse through the town looking for somewhere to stable her. The mare was tired and Jon sympathized with her. It had been a long road to Ne'Haer and they both needed rest. It was a testament to her kind; Jon could barely walk and here the mare was plodding along amiably, secure in the knowledge her master would take care of her. Jon lifted his hand and ruffled her mane a little. He'd do his best to keep up with that promise. As he approached the square, traffic was overtaking it. He frowned and tied the mare to a nearby post, wondering what could be drawing such a tense and focused crowd.

When he heard the word 'magic' tossed around, they had his unquestionable attention. With Daeva's mark new on his chest he was an initiate into Aberration, and loved his Harvester deeply. Magic, to Jon, was a miracle. It made men walk again and water spring from the most unforgiving of deserts. It could mend swords or turn them to plows, and made a bridge of power between themselves and the Immortals. They were no longer the game pieces of gods. With magic they could become gods themselves and help those without the gift. Jonathan was an academic, a student of magic and of Aberration. He waded through the crowd a little, and listened as he went to the argument. The subject was mage burnings in Rynmere. Anger flooded through him. Burning mages? How dare they destroy such rare and valuable gifts? Had they all gone mad?

'Humans are fools, Jonathan.'Daeva told him gently. 'Their first instincts confronted with something they do not understand is to smash it. It is the same with magic. They fear it and their fear turns into hatred and anger like some sort of festering disease. They are fleas on our spines and soon we will show them our mastery of them.'

Jon opened his mouth to speak, but was struck with the vision of something truly rare in Ne'Haer. An Ellune. The blue giant was speaking thunderously, able to project his voice up and over the voices in the crowd. Jon stared at him. He ached to study him. He'd never met an Ellune before. He respected him enough to listen to his words even if he didn't agree with them. A guarantee against magic? Of course mages were stronger than the average man. They also risked more for it. Violent mages weren't as common as everyone was liable to think. So many of them hid their gifts, like his father, and were simply ordinary people. He frowned at the Ellune and made his way toward him, listening as he went.

Oh this was ridiculous. He seized a box from one side of the crowd in a pile of refuse and stood up on it, putting him at least head and shoulders above the crowd. "Mages are not all evil!" he told the Ellune. "There have been evil men in the past. Men who destroyed entire villages and towns and killed many people but who among you can point to an army or king that hasn't done the same? For every man burned by Defiance there is a man burnt at the stake by his king. For every man killed with an ether bolt ten score more lay dying from crossbow bolts and arrows. Every king who has boiled a man in oil is guilty of everything people blame mages for!"

He chewed his lip, looking at Zafir with renewed conviction. "We are people. Mages cower in their own home towns because the humblest Transmuter who uses his gifts to mend clothing or cut jewelry is afraid of being yanked out of his home and killed in front of his family! Magic can be good. Magic mends your boats, your clothing, it helps heal crops and animals and half of you don't even know it's there! How many of you have had a mage darn your clothing or knit a fishing net back together seamlessly? You don't know, do you? Magic can be used to help this town and this city. It is something to be respected and treated with love, not fear." he called out over the crowd. "You ask us what they can to to protect themselves. Stop this violence! Stop giving mages a reason to hate and kill you! For every Alchemist and Transmuter you pull from his shop and burn, there is a Defiance mage who has heard of the butchery and has hatred growing in his heart like a cancer!"

Jon felt giddy, full of adrenaline. His hands were shaking. "What happened in Rynmere is the torture of the innocent. Nothing more. Mages do not deserve to be killed just because we have seen the veil of Emea and come out the other side with miracles at our fingers!"

'You said we.'
Daeva said quietly. 'I suggest you get down off of your soapbox, and leave before these people think a rope is in order.'

Jon ignored her. He pushed through the crowd to the Ellune and looked up at him. "Balance is all I want. Fairness, and justice. Do you think I'm not just as angry whenever I hear a mage has hurt someone who didn't deserve it? Just as angry as I am with people who are too ignorant and let blind, herd-like thinking cloud their judgement. I hate mages who spoil and tarnish their gifts as much as I do rulers who fear it." he stopped, breathing a bit heavily as he looked up at the Ellune. It had been a brave thing to walk up to him and speak like that. "I serve life." He said finally, gathering his breath.

The Ellune seemed more focused on leaving the debate, and Jon hurried back to his horse so he could follow him. He could see a pair of figures after the man...and a few more sniffing after himself. They'd attracted some bad attention speaking the way they had. Jon swore under his breath and tried to hurry to catch up with him.
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Zafir
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As he finished speaking, another voice rose to challenge his own. A human stood on a box to match his sight, which were it not for the seriousness of the discussion, Zafir might have found humorous. A small man seeming to make himself large, how many of these types of humans had Zafir met in his life? Theirs was a loud race, a people bordering on the manic compared to the dour Ellune he had grown up with. They were curious to the cautious and methodical giant, so quick to act without analysis. In a way he admired the man who he now found at an artificial eye level, bold and brave enough to take such a strong stance against his argument. As the man spoke, Zafir wondered if the stranger might be different than the many chest-beating humans he had met in his life.

Zafir tilted his head slightly as the man spoke, not out of frustration but out of a need to understand his argument. Not all mages were evil? Of course they weren't. Mages were people, he himself acknowledged that. He was tempted raise his voice in response, but kept his tongue still. Patience would be the Ellune's watchword, so he would allow the man to speak his peace without impudent interruption. He might discover the measure of this man by doing so.

He did, however, take issue with the man's following point. The stranger referenced other mages that had brought destruction to people in the past, destroying lives, house, entire towns in their fits of rage and madness. Yet, he claimed that because there were kings and armies that did the same that somehow exonerated them of the guilt and fear that followed them? Zafir couldn't align that thinking with his own. Rulers who would commit unjust murder of their citizens should be disposed of, violently if necessary. That was one of the few aspects of Ne'haer's politics the Ellune respected, that the people were allowed to have a voice in who ruled them in what aspect of their lives. As for armies, was the man seriously suggesting that a single person should have the power of armies at their beck and call with no check to that strength?

Lips curling into a satisfied smirk, Zafir's patience had paid off. The man's use of 'we' did not escape the Ellune's notice, as well as his extensive reference to various forms of magic he had never even heard of. A mage in their midst? So that served as the source of the man's passion. Of course he would argue for the preservation of his own people, to do otherwise would invite the slaughter of one's self. He could respect that, as Zafir had done much the same arguing for Yurrova's interests. Near coal-black eyes moved to study the man before him, curiosity purring with intrigue. He didn't believe he had ever met a mage before, but the man raised an worthwhile point. How would he know? How many mages had he unknowingly interacted with? The thought put equal parts fascination and fear into his mind.

Arms tensed with anticipation, he stood his ground as the mage approached him. He had no idea what the man would do, or what he was even capable of. There lay the true reason he hated magic, its intrinsic instability. Unpredictable variables in the equation, a phenomena that added pitfalls to an already unfair playing field. Though the man made no miracles spring to life from his fingertips. No wonder of the unnatural world danced in front of the Ellune's eyes. Just a man speaking his piece, and bringing up points that Zafir admittedly had not considered.

He would have been tempted to stay in order to speak more, but he had already drawn enough attention without a mage outing himself in front of a volatile crowd. He left the forum all the same, keeping a constant and quick pace as he stepped away from the town square.

An unknown force shoved Zafir into an alley, and his eyes turned wild with panic as his legs were swept out from under him. Two more strangers, both human in appearance, quickly set upon him with smiles sharper than any dagger. He saw one, a man, call forth fire into his hand, and the other, a woman, cause her hand to shed its form and in its place rise a clawed monstrosity. Mages who took offense with what Zafir had to say at the forum and sought to snuff out a popular voice before it gave rise to action.

Swing a large hand out to the man, Zafir swatted away the Defier before the flame's heat could truly harm the fire-fearing Ellune. This gave the Becomer ample opportunity to sink her razored hands into the meat of Zafir's chest, a pained cry rushing from his lips as the woman cut through flesh. In desperation, he called upon Nilas, the inner cold, to fill his right hand with frost. He gripped at the wrist which tore at the meat of his pectoral, freezing the flesh and the blood which stirred beneath it. The woman snatched her hand away with a hiss and Zafir took the opportunity to rise with war pick in hand. The burning grasp of thrown flame, however, forced him back down to his knees. Another blast of Nilas saw that the fire did not consume his clothes, but Zafir knew that continued use of the Inner Cold in this environment would do as much good as bearing his neck for his assailants.

On his own, he could have maybe handled one of these magic users. He'd have been bloodied and battered, but against one he could live. Against two however? Without aide, the Ellune was as good as doomed.
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Jonathan was slowly being made aware of how dangerous what he'd just done was. He had spoken up for mages in a highly religious town, and if anyone had bothered to listen he'd outed himself as such. He wasn't sure how quickly the common man was going to catch on to his phrasing, but he felt a stone settle in his stomach at the thought. The Ellune had run, and was possibly afraid of the same thing. Regardless of if his position was supported by the crowd or not, he still was against mage burnings and that was reason enough for most of the populace. Jon bit his lip and hurried along, urging the tired horse forward. She at least was catching on to his stress and trying to pick up her feet, but the journey had been a long one. One couldn't squeeze blood from a stone. Even so, she puffed along, nostrils flared and hooves dragging on the ground. If Jon thought they were in danger, in danger they were.

Then it happened. The two people trailing the Ellune decided to attack him. One, by the flames in his hand was clearly a defiance mage and Jon's chest burned in anger. He didn't know much about the Ellune as a people, but from the way the man was reacting he was clearly a little more terrified of the flames than the average person. This was an astoundingly unfair fight. He gritted his teeth. The pair hadn't noticed him yet, focused on torturing the Ellune. The woman was a Becomer...a discipline that had always fascinated Jon. She had turned her hands into weapons, and sunk them into the Ellune's chest. The cry that came from his lips stirred Jon into action. The Ellune was on his knees, barely protecting himself against the assault of fire and claws.

Daeva appeared next to him. The Harvester consumed the entire alleyway, taller than even the Ellune by a good foot. She was a strange sight to behold; her head appeared somewhat normal if smooth. There was no nose, no eyes, no cheekbones or any discerning features. It might as well have been carved from stone if not for the tattoos that outlined eyesockets on her face. Her lips were strange things. Fuller than any Etzori whore, and unquestionably human. There was a split down her chin that ran clear down her wrinkled throat. The rest of her was leonine in shape, but her front legs were far longer than her back ones, and her fur was so short she appeared hairless. Wrinkles gathered at every possible corner and fold, enough spare skin to make another of her. It hung down in wrinkled sheets when she moved and covered her rear legs when she sat. Her tail was powerful and thick, paddled like that of a salamander.

'You have one of the most feared magics in all of Idalos, Jonathan.'Daeva told him.
'Use it.'

Jonathan wasn't ready. These people were bullies and clearly intended to maul the Ellune but they didn't deserve flaying. She had been trying to get him to flay a human being since they had bonded. If Jonathan ripped apart the soul of another man (ideally a mage) it would solidify their bond. If he conjured a sphere and let her do it for him, the bond was still slightly weaker and he would not have the full affects of the addiction. Moreover, that meant they could separate with little harm to either entity. Jonathan didn't want to hurt anyone. He didn't want to kill someone in that way until he was sure they deserved such a horrific fate. It was a decision that needed weight and judgement. He filled his lungs with a deep breath and made his desires clear to Daeva. He wanted her to scare them. She was an Emean horror, after all. Her presence alone would make most commoners shit themselves.

'Fine.'Daeva was clearly disappointed in him. She had been hoping he would kill both of the mages and feed her. Jon felt bad for her, but he couldn't just make that light of a decision on the fly. Jonathan moved the mare sideways, blocking the view of Daeva from anyone peering down the alleyway. They couldn't be seen doing this.

Daeva stepped toward the pair, and her face split in half. Her jaws swung outward and down, opening her throat like the buttons on a man's shirt. Inside of her cavernous black maw was horror. It was death and consumption. Fangs spiralled all the way down her mouth, the largest being in the front and the smallest disappearing like tiny thorns into the folds of her throat. She roared, an unholy noise that sounded like a cat being strangled underwater. She couldn't touch them without Jon summoning a sphere and bridging reality between Emea and Idalos...but she was a sight to behold. She could easily step forward and consume any man in that horrific black doorway.

"Get out of here!" Jon snarled at the pair of mages. He lifted his hand, a gray sphere slowly appearing and turning listlessly in his palm. All it took was one touch from that sphere, and Daeva would be allowed to take them. "Leave that man alone. You spoil your gifts by attacking the innocent! And if you dare speak about what you saw here today, she will come for you." Daeva took a step forward, extending her long claws out onto the cobblestones with a click. "She will come for you, and she will tear apart your entire existence. Everything you were. Everything you are, and everything that is to be. Not even the Immortals will remember your spirit on this earth."

Jonathan held up the sphere threateningly. "Get out. Now. And this will be forever a secret amongst the two of you. The time you witnessed a Harvester and lived." he was good at playing the rough and tumble man. He was threatening, he was frightening. He didn't quite know any mages suicidal enough to get this close to an Aberrant in such an enclosed space. One thing was clear to him now; for his own safety he'd have to stay outside of the city. He'd have to be very careful about when he approached it, and Daeva could never appear in it again. They might not remember him but they'd remember the horror brandishing her claws and fangs at them.

"I am not a patient man." Jonathan stepped toward the Ellune, trying to put a barrier between them and their target. Daeva crouched as if ready to spring, her tail lashing in the air.

The threat of having their souls ripped apart was slightly more important than beating up a dissident. The mages fled at another roar from Daeva's maw, and Jonathan sighed in relief. He dissipated the sphere and Daeva closed her mouth and throat. "Thanks." Jon told her, but the Harvester only gave him a rather disapproving look and vanished. She disappeared in her own unusual little way, as if her extra flesh rose up and consumed her like blankets. Then they twisted, writhed, and blinked her out of existence. It was disturbing to see the first few times but Jonathan was used to it by now.

He knelt in front of the Ellune and smiled a bit. "Don't um, hit me with that thing. I've never hurt anyone in my life. I don't intend to either. My relationship with Daeva is purely academic." he nodded at the war pick. "I'm just trying to help." He pulled off his pack and rooted through it for a rag, which he tentatively pressed to the wounds on the man's chest. Gods, his skin was freezing to the touch! Jon kept having to gingerly dance his hands on the rag, trying not to stay in contact with the Ellune's skin for too long. "That's the danger of talking like that. I guess I shouldn't talk. A lot of mages would be after me too after what I did today." He looked up at the Ellune. He was still afraid the man would bury the pick into his shoulder or hip. He might be able to flay him because he was in such close contact but...he didn't want to do that if it was at all necessary. Daeva was clearly hoping for it.
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Zafir
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A snarl on his lips and frost on his fingers, Zafir was not willing to walk quietly into injurious death. With war pick raised, the Ellune was ready to strike with savage strength against his attackers.

Horror given shape stayed his hand. A creature worse than any nightmare could have made seemed to step out of nothingness and into reality. The only creature Zafir had ever seen onn taller than he, it was such a sight that, had he been able to look away, he would have willed his eyes closed. Smooth skin with seductive, near human lips, the monster was a strange stitching of human and animal features. Wrinkles and tattoos curled around its alien skin, which at points draped over the Harvester like a cloak. Without a doubt, it was one of the most horrifying things that the Ellune had ever seen.

That was before the monster opened its mouth. Its face split down the middle, revealing a cave-like which seemed to beg for flesh. Rows and rows of razored fangs stretched out before Zafir, so real he could almost swear he saw saliva glisten on its teeth. The best let out a sound which, for the first time in his life, made the Ellune's blood run cold. He recognized that this was the feeling to be before something so far removed from one's own existence. This was what it was like for an ant to see the boot fall on its head. An insect before a giant. Zafir felt small.

A man stepped out from behind the monster. Or perhaps the man was the monster all along? Zafir couldn't tell fact from fiction anymore. Terror and adrenaline made survival his main priority, not understanding. It was the sorcerer from the square, the one who bravely stood up against Zafir's opinion and represented a mage's perspective. But was it bravery? How could one feel any sort of feel when they had a horror at their beck and call? He was shouting at the other magic-user's now, ordering them to leave. He made threats, promising that his beast would hunt them down and raze all that they loved to the ground.

A Harvester, the man had called the monster. Zafir couldn't think of a name more fitting for that black terror which would plague his dreams for weeks to come. The man stepped towards him, placing himself between Zafir and the mages. He was tempted to run, but fear held his feet fast. The Harvester prowled at the mage's side, seeming ready to pounce on the Ellune's attackers.

The creature never had to, for the other mages ran at the man's threat. Zafir looked towards the man, hand holding his war pick so tight that his knuckles turned white. A mage who made other mages afraid, now that was a true terror. With a wave of the mage's hand, the monster vanished from sight, the sagging flesh from the Harvester wrapping itself into nothingness. The man now knelt next to the injured Ellune, smiling despite the seriousness of what had just happened. Daeva he called the Harvester. Oh good, the monster had a name. He claimed that he had never hurt anyone in his life, which from his genuine nature Zafir supposed could have been true, but that spoke to nothing of what his pet Harvester had done in the mage's name. At the man's request, Zafir lowered the war pick. He was already at the man's mercy, there was no point in antagonizing someone that could, with a snap of their fingers, call back a walking nightmare.

And how could any mortal stand against a creature like that?

Wincing as the rag was pressed on his chest, he shrunk away from the man's warm touch as much as the mage did from his cold skin. Brushing his hands aside with his own free hand, Zafir held the rag to his bleeding chest. The cuts were deep, but Zafir guessed nothing so bad that tight bandages could not fix with time. They would have been worse had this mage not interfered. Looking up, Zafir was confused by the man above him. He hazarded his own life to save that of someone who showed no favor to his kind. With one hand, he commanded a beast so terrifying that it mages run from its sight. With the other, he offered aide to someone, of their own admission, who was unwilling to abandon the possibility of burning mages alive if it meant mortal men's safety.

"Stop talking, and then the only mages people like me will know are them," Zafir responded, turning his head down the alley towards where his attackers disappeared. He gripped the wall, struggling to stand on his own. Yurrovan pride and stubbornness urged the Ellune to show a strong front despite his injuries. Besides, if the mage decided he wanted the Ellune all for himself, Zafir would rather die on his feet. "Thank you for the help. I'm not sure what would have happened had you not arrived. I suppose I owe you my name, at the least. Zafir Sar'Vanis. And your name, sir?"

Looking out towards the open street, Zafir still felt that primal temptation to run. Mages were unpredictable, and this man only exemplified that. It may have worked in his favor this time, but how long until that unpredictability turned against him? Still, he had saved Zafir. His curiosity proved more powerful than his instincts. He needed to figure this mage out.

"So what happens now? I hope that you didn't chase those mages off only to have me to yourself? Will you be calling your beast back to feast on me?" Zafir smiled, only partly out of jest.
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Jonathan Burr
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Jon smirked and followed the Ellune's gaze down the alleyway. "I don't think they'll be back. Harvesters tend to scare the living daylights out of people. She was just putting on a show; they actually love to scare people like that. They think it's funny. And honestly, I thought the best way to exit stage left would be following you. You looked like you needed some help. My name's Jonathan. Jon Burr." He patted the man's shoulder in greeting. He was also unsure as to whether he should leave the Ellune leaning against the wall like that. He looked supremely uncomfortable. He did chuckle a little at the joke about Daeva. "Oh believe me Daeva was more interested in them than you. She feeds off ether. Mages have more of it than the average person. You're a bit too skinny of a chicken."

Part of him wondered why Zafir wasn't reacting violently. Most people hated Aberrants. Could it be the man was just ignorant of them. "And not 'beast'. She. All Harvesters have names and they get a little pissed off when people refer to them like some unfeeling evil. You ought to talk to her sometime. She's a decent conversationalist." he added, offering his hand to Zafir. "Look, why don't you take a seat on the cart and stop that bleeding? I'm sure I can get us somewhere safe just outside the city. I don't think we should be anywhere near here for a little while. You're extremely identifiable and I just made a spectacle of myself."

He went to clear a few things in the little wagon. There wasn't a lot of room for the Ellune, but Jon did the best he could folding up his blanket and his bedroll to make a makeshift seat. He patted it. Jon was worried about the man's chest. Those claws from the Becomer had cut deep. They could get infected without proper treatment. "Should we find a river or something? Bathe that wound? We don't know what that woman had on her claws."
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Zafir
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Observe, assess, and then act. That was Zafir's primary process of interaction, especially with the unknown. And whoever this Jon was, he was undoubtedly an unknown. The fact that he could call this Harvester to him, a creature that Zafir would qualify as one of the most terrifying things imaginable, unsettled him greatly. Yet he stayed his reactions for the chance at a better understanding. No need to piss off the man that could make mages run after all.

"Oh good, I'm glad we mortals can provide some entertainment for her," Zafir responded dryly, his wit sharp but his tone friendly. Despite everything, Jon had a disarming way about him. And he seemed extremely concerned about the well-being of a stranger whom he should, by all rights, dislike. A good man and a mage? Zafir supposed he'd have to see. "Even better, she has a name. And ether? I apologize, but I'm not exactly well-informed about the specifics of magic. Ellunes aren't exactly big on magical education."

Zafir tilted his head as Jon casually explained more about his Harvester. So these creatures had minds of their own? Personalities? He chuckled at Jon's mention of conversation. After the experience he just had from simply watching Daeva intimidate others, he doubted it would be anytime soon he would be willing to even share the same room as her, much less hold an intelligent dialogue. At the man's motion, Zafir carefully took his hand and moved to the cart. It was indeed a tight fit, as most things in the city were not made to accommodate a eight foot-something Ellune. He winced as the pain in his shoulder flared slightly.

"A river would actually be welcome. The Ashan heat was already killing me without the added stress of attempted murder. You can tell me more about how you came into partnership with such an interesting character as Daeva while we ride."
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Jonathan Burr
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Jon grinned. "I dunno, most of the time she thinks I'm just being an idiot. She'd rather I have killed that pair." he said cheerfully. He was happy to be talking about it, for once, with someone. Talking about Aberration with anyone was like talking to an explosive. It could listen quietly or it could go off and consume you in fire. After all, as he'd pointed out, mages had been hauled off for less. "Ether is in everything, in all living things. Think of it as a primitive sort of power. Mages harness ether to do their spells. We have to extend our own life force into something to make it change, and it's not always a smooth transition. Ether has a mind of its own, as do the creatures born from it and reliant on it, like Daeva." he explained. "Think of it like water. You can't have life without water, right? Plants need it, animals need it, even the tiniest of creatures need it or can make it themselves. Ether is the same way, except most people wander around with no concept or knowledge of it. They know they're alive, but they can't feel themselves living."

He took the horse's reins again and clicked to her to move forward. It would be better if they got out of the city quickly. He didn't want to know what would happen if someone started baying the word 'Aberrant' around the city. He chewed his lip, and looked at Ellune. He wasn't sure he wanted to explain the entire thing. Yet, in that moment it was all he wanted to do. He wanted to share Aberration with others, to show that it could be used for good as well as evil. If he was going to change people's minds about it, why not start with his new friend?

Jon considered it for a few minutes. "Well, I wasn't sure at first. That spark, forging that bond with a citizen of Emea, is very dangerous. Harvesters want very much to be in our world; it's a bit of a "Grass is greener" thing. Hunting is easier, because our reality is so solid whereas theirs changes so much. They live a very violent life. Eat or be eaten, all in the name of ether. A Harvester is just as likely to kill another of his own kind as he is a Nightmare or other apparition." he explained. "Humans bond with Harvesters to feed them ether from our side. By using our life-force to bridge the gap between Emea and Idalos, we allow the Harvesters to step across that bridge. Sometimes for a few seconds, sometimes for a few hours. They're literally stepping from within a dream world."

Jon smiled at Zafir, hoping he hadn't scared him off so far. "It's a very close bond, when it does happen between Harvester and human. Over time, it apparently gets so close that it's hard to tell one from the other." He added, a little more relieved when they exited the city gates and headed over a small bridge. Now they were on back roads, and the further they got from the city, the better Jon felt. He didn't even flinch when they rounded a corner into a copse of trees, and Daeva appeared. Out of sight of guards, she was free to walk next to them.

'He is young. Most humans enter into this with a little more caution. It surprises me you haven't heard of my kind before, Ellune. Most people hear at least in passing, if they don't encounter one in their dreams. We like to stalk dreams, and occasionally destroy dreamers within it.'She said lightly. She was still aware, watching the road ahead for any hint of traffic. At the first sign of another creature she'd disappear, and the person would be left questioning if what they'd seen was real.
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Zafir
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Meeting the Mage

The Ellune's eyes tightened when Jon mentioned Daeva's preference for death. That was a little too casually tossed out for his liking. Death was important. Death had weight. It showed restraint and benefit to Jon's character that he chose not to listen to the Harvester's murderous advice, but it also revealed how dangerous a being that this human had entangled himself with. Anything that viewed people, even mages, as prey was something that Zafir would remain on guard around. The day was not so warm that he couldn't expend a few more uses of Nilas before exhaustion took him, and the warm-blooded were so fragile around frost. He wondered if Daeva would be susceptible to Nilas like the mage that had attacked Zafir earlier was.

Still, he found his curiosity overwhelming as Jon went into exquisite detail about magic. It was something of a taboo topic among Ellune culture, the most devout, like his family was, even going so far to ban word of it, besides warning of its dangers, around the ears of children. He'd never heard of Harvesters before, and his knowledge of Ether as anything else but a magic fuel source was limited. However, he enjoyed hearing Jon talk so freely and passionately about the subject.

"Mages use Ether, that's correct? And if Ether is like water, than, to extend the analogy, magic is when a mage diverts the course of the river?" Zafir pressed, hoping to gain a better understanding of the subject. He had strong opinions about the power that came with magic, but realized he knew very little about the subject itself. He still didn't believe any one man, even an apparently good man like Jon, should hold that power without check. He had seen what unrestrained power does to entire governments, he didn't imagine individual people would fair much better.

His eyes widened with understanding as Jon further explained the nature of Harvesters. He had indeed heard of these creatures before, monsters that were more fearsome than Nightmares and sprang forth from dreams into the waking world. He just hadn't heard a description or the name in Common. His father had whispered a warning to both him and his brother when they were young, only using the Leni word as if using Treid's tongue would protect their dreams from those monsters. Now understanding, it surprised him that someone like Jon would willing enter contract with this creature.

"You've spoke of what your Harvester gains from this partnership, but little of what you do. What benefit does Daeva bring you, besides what I'm sure is stunning conversation?"

As they approached a collection of dense trees, Daeva reappeared. Zafir could barely suppress a shudder when the horror re-entered the waking world. Fear filled his veins, and he hardly noticed the fact that fractures of frost were beginning to collect at his fingertips. With a steady breath, he dismissed Nilas from his grasp. Jon didn't seem the type to let Daeva have her way with him, and as of right now he was in no shape to encourage that. It seemed that Ellunian Etiquette would be the best way to survive this encounter with a walking terror. He just hoped Daeva found him a more entertaining conversationalist than an appetizing meal.

"Well, that's encouraging. And you're just fine with her 'destroying dreamers', are you?" Zafir turned to Jon, unsure how to cope with her casual approach to murder. Daeva was completely alien to anything Zafir had experienced and he didn't know how even Jon could justify that sort of behavior. Sighing, he turned back to Daeva. "Apologies, it appears I have heard of your kind before. I didn't know the word for you in Common, and in fairness I was more concerned with 'not dying' at the time. In Leni, we call you Tupilaq. It means 'Endless Hunger'. Never understood why until now."
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Meeting the Mage

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"Diverts the course of a river, or sweeps the tiniest stream to feed a plant." Jon agreed with the analogy, nodding. "It's not unrestrained, though. Ether is only as powerful as the man wielding it. If you overextend yourself, or try and take ether from something that's not there...you're going to have some kickbacks. A weak mage trying a spell far beyond his abilities might kill himself. Initiation to become one is just as dangerous. That's why there aren't as many of us. So while it is powerful, we're not growing very fast. Especially not with the killings in Rynmere and other spots. If anything we're slowly dying out."

Something seemed to click in Zafir's head the more Jonathan described the Harvesters. He might not have known the Common word for it but his people knew them all the same. Jon shrugged his shoulders. "I get a protector, and a weapon at the same time. It's a Balance. If I take all the power for myself the Balance is upset, and the Harvester will turn on me. Similarly if she takes it all, I will die from the addiction and she loses out on any further power." he explained. "It's a symbiotic relationship."

Daeva laughed heartily at the Ellune's reaction. 'Do you feel the same about every deer you kill? Every chicken you eat? Mortals are so uncomfortable with being lower on the food chain than at the top.' she said, a bit snootily. 'Yes, we hunt and consume you. But every time you dream and go into Fractures to mine Emea's gifts, you are in our territory. Idalos is yours. Emea is ours. When you cross that doorstep you are consenting to our rules and our way of life. Just as if I crossed a conjunction into Idalos, I would accept that I would be hunted for my appearance, because mortals' first thought to something they don't understand is to kill.' She did preen a bit at the name he gave her. Endless hunger. She liked it.

Jon shrugged. "She has to eat. Am I going to tell her that she has to starve because of my hangups over it?" he asked Zafir. "Be careful in dreams, be careful stealing from Emeans in Fractures. That's all the advice I can give you."

Daeva chuckled and flicked her tail. 'Mortals have..."hangups" over so many things. Sex. Skin color. Magic. You balk at anything you don't understand or whose appearance frightens you. Look at you. Cringing away from something that has not done you harm. Silly children, the lot of you.' She pranced ahead a few steps, going at a slightly faster pace.

"Talkin"
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