Wondering About You

[Alistair]

25th of Ashan, Arc 718

They walked forward into the forest, on the path least beaten, cleared out by the Willow Woods Outpost and the soldiers who cycled back and forth from the cities and townships of Ne'haer. Running straight through Ki'eiran, the road existed as a connector between the martial aspirants of the Blade of Zafra and the town-like life of Ne'haer's suburban expanse. That, ultimately, was why he had chosen the suburban community as the location that would host Kaelserad.

Walking through the jungle, Alistair's eyes kept trained on his environment. He glanced quickly and effectively at each angle as they walked, ensuring that there were no threats around them, sentient or otherwise. To do so was an instinct for him now, and of late he'd been capable of tracking movements and irregularities within singular frames. Trevor, it would appear, was never safer with anyone than he was with Alistair... who had spent much of his life ensuring his own safety, and growing into the boots of a survivor.

Finally, when he'd determined that their surroundings were clear, he turned to offer Trevor a pleasant smile as he slowed his pace to walk beside him.

"Alright," he simply said, moving his thoughts forward from their instinctual precautions into a noteworthy conversation. Anything that had been said before would've been followed by mmhm or yeah, and so - he was by far at his best behavior, now.

"I'm going to start with a question," he informed him, raising his hands to rub along his own sides as he contemplated his words. He did not... want to appear too direct, but also not ineffective in his information gathering. Trevor had not specifically informed him of where he was from - perhaps for his own reasons - which meant that being all too direct would likely lead to... a denial of the question.

As he didn't like to be rejected, he worded it differently.

"Are you from around here?" he asked, simply. "I noticed your accent - it's not strong, but... there is a regional flavor to it. I've been wondering if you came from Quacia, considering they're rather open with their magic, as you are... but you don't appear to be." He questioned with curious eyes, completely innocent, though he'd already made his guess and come to his own conclusions. Lysoria.

[Trevor]

Somehow their intrepid visit into the wilderness didn't daunt Trevor as he followed along, each gentle poke of his staff on the earth was met with reassurance. Even now he felt faint impulses that reassured his steps as the rock gently vibrated, speaking through him and into the Spark that connected the mage to nature. He had never anticipated venturing this far beyond the walls of Ne'haer, at least not until much later when he felt more comfortable with things. The fact he was out here now however meant he was pushing that boundary, since he clearly craved the taste of adventure he hadn't experienced in so long. Each movement made to pass by a bush or shrub briefly induced soft movement, as the air around Trevor caressed the nature he barely brushed against in passing.

For one such as Alistair who likely came out here to hunt, instinct and wariness were more than likely what drove him to survival. However for one such as Trevor it was, innately, the very entity of nature itself that spoke to him. Not the trees so much as the wind as well as the rocks, for they were the indicators of danger lurking nearby. Yet no such threats made themselves known yet at least, thus Trevor walked along with a little ease in mind; if not still wary of the fact they were further away from safer boundaries. Perhaps this was where trusting in Alistair would be key, since Trevor himself couldn't for sure count himself competent enough to fend off danger.

Yet when it seemed that they reached a point in the clear to stop at, Trevor's expression transitioned from wariness to curiousness at best. With an eyebrow twerked towards the fellow mage, he watched the man stop to determine that this was a good place as any to settle at. "Now comes the fun part I'm sure." He mused to Alistair as he switched his wooden staff from his left into his right hand, as both lingered with grip around the wood while he slightly leaned into it. It would seem as though the question to come would likely start with his origins, something that Alistair would likely try to be clever about in trying to pinpoint should Trevor evade the topic. But should he?

Granted it would prove fun to dance around the fact he was unwanted from Lysoria, Trevor didn't know if that sort of information would be safe in other's hands. It was already dangerous enough to consider the fact his mentor Phelix still knew he lived, and that was all thanks to the tether shared between the Rupturing Spark he carried. "Quacia? Rather a curious place to name out really. It's not a bad guess but you don't honestly picture me as a Southerner now do you? An foreigner from distant shores of exotica with a gloriously wonderful of not mystified past? That does sound like something I'd probably enjoy if I were speaking honestly." The Defier reasoned with a contemplative poke at his chin, his brown eyes slightly narrowed with a grin shot to Alistair.

"It's not a bad guess really, but you'll find that my origins are more actually based closer to Ne'haer really." He admitted with a slight crook of his head. "The city of Cycres was where I was born and grew up first and foremost. I was always an outcast there however, didn't fit in with any of the other boys who liked to bully one another; or fraternize over the girls there when they weren't busy with the nel extortion." The air around him felt colder than usual the more Trevor reflected on it, as the wind gave a gentle reminder of why he was considerably different. More so due to the fact his own personal heritage played a heavy part in that aspect, something that was also just as dangerous to reveal... but at the same time possibly worth sharing to this man.

If Alistair could handle learning this then... maybe he could understand more about Trevor altogether. And also understand why he was more paranoid in revealing where he truly hailed from, where he became known as an exile that should never walk the grounds he called home. If ever again. "My own mother was a slave freed from further up north, she didn't realize she was pregnant with me at first. Not long before she came to Ne'haer did she actually find out, and I was considerably lucky she even deemed me worth keeping." He admitted with a bit of a frown, as though he weren't proud of that little fact for personal reason. It would become clear why very soon however. "If you can keep this between you and me... as only one other knows this story and he was my mentor."

After he spoke and allowed Alistair the chance for assurance, Trevor released a grip from his staff and held a open hand away from him. Just an open and empty hand with the palm directed towards the sky, until the Defier took a deep breath and focused on that warmth within his own blood. It had been a long while since he coaxed at the flames within, and yet somehow even after that length of time they still heeded his inner call. He felt the warmth of his blood increase and with it, his own Spark interacted to help incite the very nature of his being into life. Fire. Vividly warm flames danced from the surface of his palm, as they emanated a burst of heat upon his skin the moment they came to life. Quickly however he closed the hand to consume the life of that flame, to avoid the risk of burning himself in the event his own Spark failed him.

"A gift from my unfortunate father really... it was the very thing that consumed my mother as well." He admitted a little less cheerfully, his hand finally lowered as he continued to breath deeply to mediate the fiery build up in his blood.

[Alistair]

He knew that Quacia was wrong, but the answer narrowed it down, winnowing that city from the list. If not Quacia, then... here. Cycres was where he was born, but not where he lived as an adult. And if it were the city, he would have just told him as much. The only possibility was then... somewhere in heat in the city of Ne'haer - he likely worried that there would be backlash for his prior loyalties. This... narrowed it down to Lysoria, without a single doubt in his mind.

But there were more interests to be garnered from what he had said. It made sense that he was bullied by the other boys - he was, somewhat, eccentric. And... many boys with their proclivities - for other boys - were bullied in their youth for being weak, or girlish, or too gentle... or even too "fond" of their male peers. Alistair was only immune to this due to his status as the heir of Venora. Mothers would warn their children that for bullying him, they could be beheaded. It was unlikely, but... possible, he supposed. Ebony was strict about the divinity and superiority of House Venora above others, and her wrath has inconsiderate of age.

"Fraternizing over girls doesn't seem quite like you," he whispered, grinning. "Nor like me, either."

That was all he said on the matter, though he understood being the outcast. He had lived with the vice of irregularity since his conception.

The remainder of the story was... sad. But it was not wholly surprising. Such stories were not entirely uncommon among lowborn. The world they lived in was rather unforgiving, from birth until death.

"I'm sorry for all that, Trevor D'ael," he called him, very much liking his name, and so finding an excuse to utilize it as often as he could.

"Slavery is a terrible thing. And to be born to a mother not expecting you... I can imagine how that might have been precarious. I am glad that she chose to keep you. And, I won't share the story with anyone." It wasn't like he had many friends, anyhow. And the ones he did have... were very trustworthy.

What followed was a demonstration - of fire, and the power of his blood. Alistair's brows rose, watching the flames suspend from his palm and dance within. He did not burn, not noticeably anyhow... and he called it a gift from his father. One that consumed his mother.

Was it Defiance, or his blood? Was he an Aukari? Well - a mixed one, at least?

Alistair stepped forward, with little caution or worry, and took the hand that Trevor had brought a light with flame. Warm. He followed the movement, running his palm over the man's arm, to uncover a similar warmth. He could feel the body heat emanating from him. It was... pleasant. And then, without asking, he took the man into a firm embrace - a hug to offer him solace.

"I'm sorry for all that has happened to you. But your fire is a blessing - both the fire in your blood and your spark."

Alistair smiled, faintly.

"You're Aukari, aren't you? I don't mind. I know many do, but I have never felt anything but kindness from your people. Passion, too. You are a lovely thing, Trevor D'ael. Thank you for showing me."

[Trevor]

Trevor could only grin a little when Alistair pointed out the aspect of fraternizing, a statement the Defier would hoped to be rather obvious when one looked upon him.
"I certainly hope so, in truth they scared me more than the boys that bullied me." He admitted rather bluntly with a brief chuckle afterwards, a suspecting glance shot to the Rupturer when he too admitted similar behavior. Then of course the serious aspect of their conversation unraveled, as the mixed-blood felt willing enough to share the story of his childhood at least. It obviously wasn't a pretty one, nor easy when contemplated well enough.

"Slavery has never been a good thing, no matter what part of the world you belong in." He sternly agreed with a bit of a furrow in his eyebrows, although he still remained more composed over the subject in general. "Ne'haer wasn't wrong to abolish it and declare slaves deserving people, the fact the other territories were so keen to turn their backs on it however; just shows how greedy the rulers are about their servants. Why terminate a policy that releases our servants, and requires us to eat and drink with our own hands?! Some may have declared it against tradition I would assume, but traditionally speaking slaves have never asked to be forced into labor. Now have they?" It was then Trevor realized that he was suddenly a little too fired up, obviously quite passionate over his beliefs which he ranted over tirelessly.

"But forgive my prejudice, I obviously harbor much in the way of ideals in the world. Most which are not of this world, but could be if people were more receptive of them." And then of course the display of his inheritance came prior after the philosophical debate, though much to his surprise it produced a result far unexpected afterwards. The moment Trevor enclosed the fire in his palm to diminish the flame, Alistair proved to act in the most uncanny way and approached him. The advance seemed innocent to be sure but somehow, Trevor's own frame tensed at the sudden approach altogether. The mage placed his own hand inside Trevor's to feel that exact warmth, in which the heat under his skin slowly coursed throughout the arm. Alistair followed it with his own hand and while not unwanted, the physical touch felt so foreign as rough callused hands moved over his skin.

Immediately Trevor felt as though he should've withdrawn for safety purposes, but at the same time feeling such a close and personable approach... allured him in a way he did not expect. He considered the fire within a blessing? Even after everything that it's costed? The faint smile that Trevor witnessed made him swallow hard, his entire core a little more hotter deep down thanks to the amount of flattery he felt. "I'm sure my mentor once agreed." He slightly chided in that expression as he forced a slight smile, clearly taken aback by how unexpected this close proximity felt to him. "Right you are. It's... not a common thing to hear your sentiment. It's almost too surreal to be honest." At that point he couldn't help but draw back just a little, not so much to present discomfort with the man; just apprehension in being so close.

"Sorry, personal contact has never been my strong suit honestly." He admitted bashfully with a backhand used to wipe over his brow. "I believe it's my turn now? Why don't we start with you telling me more about you, Alistair Venora as you called yourself a second time. Tell me, what deems a fine specimen such as you someone worth exile from your homeland? Is it because you made all the other girls giddy and the men soil themselves?" He jested with a bit of restraint, as the Defier could've easily prattled on with the tease. He still maintained a warm and welcoming demeanor of course, but tried to avoid any physical connection with the man if at all possible.

[Alistair]

Trevor wasn't, necessarily, a fan of his physical contact. Perhaps he ascribed motives to it, which weren't particularly based solely in innocent friendship. Alas, Alistair did not necessarily carry those motives, though of course - as was the same with violence - there was always an element of intention when it came to touching. It was a gesture always laid in primality, even though humans may have seen 'hugging' or any other embrace as a socially formed construct. It was... a sign of trust. To draw so near to another, to take all of them in your own, and to come out unharmed - it was an act of bonding because the two participants wholly let their guard down.

But Trevor, perhaps, didn't trust Alistair fully or... simply didn't feel comfortable in close physical proximity. The mage shrugged. He was much akin to many others he'd known, though often they simply allowed him to do as he wished due to his exalted status within nobility. Trevor held his ground, and that displayed in many things: for one, he still hadn't told Alistair of his place of origin, even though he had already ascertained it with relative assurance.

The mage simply stepped back, and nodded at his expression of his boundaries, mouthing a silent 'sorry' as he did so. At least he had complimented him in a meaningful way, which seemed to remain upon Trevor's mood despite the recent discomfort. Alistair had to take his victories where he had them, and in truth, he'd had fewer and fewer of them of late.

"That's alright," he responded. "Your boundaries are yours. I'll respect them." He didn't try to argue. For an Aukari, it made sense to avoid physical contact. It was... a survival mechanism. Their greatest give-away was their warmth, and to be known for who they were was a deadly thing. He was certain that had some involvement with his discomfort, and other things. One of which, certainly, was simply his personality.

He refrained from prodding too much more in that realm, and instead confined his words and thoughts to the question offered to him. Right. Clearing his throat, he answered promptly, attempting to set the record as well as he could. "I wanted to hold my family accountable for their actions," he said. That was the right place to begin. "They had done... bad things, to me, to my sister, and to others. My father, and mother, were both players in a game of abuse - of power, of wealth, and of their ownership of their children. I took their abuses to the court, many arcs after the fact, to report on the grievous nature of their wrongdoings. Immediately, I was betrayed by my family... the rest of them... with sensitive information regarding me, and my magic, relayed to court officials. I have no idea how they discovered this, but... it was deadly for me and my reputation."

Alistair supposed there was more to explain than just that, but, he'd offer Trevor the simple version. It was too much to go back to the beginning, or explain how the situation within his Kingdom had arrived upon its current point. "Right around this time, the Kingdom outlawed magic, with the penalty a public burning. I knew what they had intended for me, so I... killed everyone who stood in my way, and left the courtroom through the eye of a portal." His lips evened out, as he stared at Trevor with... no real expression. This was simply the fact, not an emotional thing.

"So, there. No longer a Venora, really. I've been excommunicated by the faith and the court. Merely being a mage was enough for them. That is how my reign in Rynmere came to an end - a shame."

[Trevor]

Trevor could tell that his apprehension with the man seemed to bother Alistair, from the looks of it the man seemed understanding of the situation well enough. Still it bothered the Defier to a degree and for that, he quickly took the means to recompense for his own actions. "No it's... my fault honestly. You're obviously enthusiastic with being a friend which I wholly approve of, it's just that because of my blessing as you called it; I'm liable to lose control if I don't remember to keep it in check." He explained although the mage probably understood good and well the reasoning, still Trevor felt a explanation was in proper demand whether Alistair could easily discern it for himself or not. "Not that it's a bad thing either. I would just think it a very real tragedy if any part of that body of your's is accidentally marred by my flames, I'd already perish the thought of burning another man unintentionally; especially when he's already proven to be kind to me."

At that admittance he craned his head a little in contemplation, unsure if his explanation was too much insight or too unnecessary in general. "Thank you." He responded to the statement of boundaries. "Perhaps one day, when I know the flames won't betray me, I'll feel safer in indulging in such... humble affections." The words felt strange to mention but truthfully, Trevor did wish to be able to touch and feel others. To not worry that his own skin will ignite when the feelings too strong, or his mind too distracted to keep the flames within him contained. When he asked the next question and listened to Alistair, he did so with a studious expression on the man as the answer followed. From the sound of it Alistair had his own trifles to contend with, dealing with the nobility and their scheming ways while it affected both him and siblings. Somehow the blood in his veins felt warmer already.

"That's a cruel cruel thing, ousting your family only to find they've quickly done the same to you. Where's the justice in that? Can you trust your siblings to sleep safer at night, knowing that your family's made a mockery of you just to throw you to the wolves? Somehow I don't think your home country is so very different from mine... The fact that it's always been a den of vipers never surprised me, you'd grow accustomed to all the lies and political backstabbing there. But in other parts of the world? Suddenly I feel less good exists out there than what truly should." The very air around him felt warmer the more he vented on these thoughts, the passion of his philosophy almost intense within his tone as he continued on.

"They burned all their mages? Well it's no wonder why the numbers have grown throughout the region, Rynmere must really be exorcising magic as some kind of plague or curse. Those poor sods." However one thing did stand out that Trevor took note of, the lack of any perpetual feeling on the even entirely. Alistair was far too plain and accepting of the event as a whole, whereas if Trevor were there and involved things would've been very different. Emotion tended to guide a lot of Trevor's decisions no matter how controlled he believed them to be, and if he were there then those one bonfires would've gone horribly wrong.

"Clearly. Yet you hardly seem troubled by it at all, have you really accepted such a fate? Or is there more to the story than what I've been told?" He asked while his breathing deepened to regulate the emotions he processed, his narrowed eyes a bit more relaxed as he realized it was actually Alistair's turn to ask a question. "Oh wait. That makes three questions now doesn't it? Hm. You may feel inclined to ask three as well, if you wish to answer the other two at all that is." The Defier reasoned with a bit of a shrug, the breeze wafting from him cooler now; however still bearing the reminiscent scent of a warmly fresh campfire.

[Alistair]

So that explained it. Trevor did not wish to make extensive physical contact because... he didn't want to burn Alistair. Though it made sense and was perfectly logical, it was also cute, in a way. He stayed his hands from what he called 'humble affections' due to his own humble affections - not wishing to harm a man who he had considered to be kind to him.

But Alistair... did not fear the flames. Aukari were pushed to combustion through uncontrolled emotion, such as anger. He had already found himself a calming influence with Trevor, and the two had nothing but positive feelings towards one another. As a man who seemed to thrive in meditation and deep thought, he doubted that Trevor would - unintentionally - burst into flames amidst his touch.

Though he doubted he would be immediately persuasive, he could only say as much. "I doubt you'd hurt me," he said. "And besides - even if you did - I would survive. I recover quickly, and don't mind a bit of heat on occasion. Sticking close to the flames can remind us that they burn; humility. Humility is, I would say, an essential part of success. We all need to know it." He said this confidently, though perhaps it was just a method of convincing Trevor to allow him the opportunity to be more physically affectionate. It was in his nature to do so, and oddly enough he found the other man to be something of an arbiter of his affections. He wanted to comfort him, as sweetly as he knew, knowing that the two of them had suffered in much the same way.

"But, I understand. Regardless of your inhibitions, I will continue to be kind to you, and I thank you for being kind to me." Alistair nodded his head, briefly, as the two of them moved to the next conversations. He could only nod in response to Trevor's assessment; it was all very cruel. His family's betrayal, Rynmere's mage-burnings... all of the stigma and hatred associated with magic, even the innocent ones. Rupturers, Abrogants, Attuners, Grafters... why did they deserve such stigma? Much of what they did was good: protecting people, healing them, seeking to understand the world around them, helping people move longer distances. All mages had such complex, beautiful stories to tell. They were truly the outliers of society, and they often spoke with such worldly wisdom, even if they struggled with their own demons.

It was heinous, what Rynmere had done. He would never allow it to happen again. Not in Ne'haer. Not in the free society he sought to build, so far from home. And by thinking this, he had already surmised a response to Trevor's statement, of how Alistair did not seem particularly troubled. "There is more to the story," he whispered, almost solemnly.

"But not in regards to my family... or me. There's of course more layers of complexity, but I've told you the truth as fully as it's going to get. What the story entails that I did not indulge with you is... my rage. Though I may have expressed no particular emotional attachment to the story, I... do not feel so calmly as you might imagine. I want to destroy the Order of the Mantis. Raze the castle to the ground. Pluck the King out of its halls by his hair. Slaughter he and his Empress - and even their unborn child. I despise these developments. I loathe my King, and what he's made my Kingdom - one that my family has built over hundreds of arcs. He is an outsider, a stranger, and yet--"

He frowned. Perhaps he wasn't a calming influence. He couldn't even calm himself. Cassander's very existence brought him immense anger, and to know that he continued to live whilst his reputation died... whilst so many mages died... it was infuriating. The world truly was unjust. It hurt to admit it.

"I don't know that I have any questions for you, other than perhaps: how do you feel about all of this, as a mage from afar? I've always wondered that. What does Rynmere, and what happened, mean to you? To me... it means that we are always unsafe, no matter where we go. Even in a Kingdom where the Seekers once operated freely, we can - at the drop of a hat - be burnt at a pyre, or impaled with a mob's pitchfork. We... must fight back. We must organize, and become one, if we are to survive. That is the basis for everything I do - and will ever do, from this point on."

[Trevor]

There came a meaningful if not speculative trace of a smile on Trevor's lips, as Alistair seemed to decree that he didn't think such harm would come. It was admirable to think that the man was willing to place that kind of faith in Trevor, whereas the Defier himself hardly felt inclined to believe himself in complete control. Still the words that Alistair said was a bundle of comfort to take in, even if the mixed blood didn't completely agree with the sentiment. "Thank you." He admitted once more with a bit more genuine of a smile, at least he could enjoy the philosophy found in the aspect of humility.

"Quite honestly it's far too easy to be nice to you." The Defier mused with a more teasing grin afterwards, since Alistair felt the desire to show appreciation that part as well. "One can only speculate it's due to that charismatic face you possess, or perhaps that charming personality you wield so effortlessly." He couldn't help but laugh at least a little before the conversation regained seriousness again, Alistiar's true discord with his past more at present now after Trevor noted his lack of emotion earlier. So the man did feel bitterness and scorn, and in truth that reassured the Defier of what this man was; human. Nobody in the world could expect to share a story like his, and not possess some sort of residual scorn as an aftermath. It would've been either foolish to consider otherwise, unless that aspect of humanity had been consumed.

Thankfully from the looks of it, that part of Alistair had not; although Trevor speculated much suffering to be involved in part. There was of course more to the story naturally, a thorough layer of complexity that only met with another and yet another layer; according to the impression that Alistair created. There was a definite levity of hate or resentment in his tone, as he spoke the words of what his own potential kingdom became. At the lack of questions for Trevor though, there came an interesting request of perspective reflected instead. As an outsider but also a mage, how did one such as him view this? How did he feel towards it, and what significance did it hold over Trevor?

At first the Defier partly opened his mouth to speak but refrained, barely uttering a sound as he truly had to contemplate his feelings on the matter. "It frightens me honestly." He finally concurred. "As much as I disapprove of their actions, I share a great wealth more of pity than I do anger." Somehow that felt more sound in truth aloud than in his mind. "I do think we need to take measures to protect ourselves, and those who are like us, and that ultimately we need a place where no such fear or oppression exists. However fighting doesn't seem the answer to me." At that point he frowned a little with a perplexed expression. "Nothing good comes from the fighting, no matter if we're protecting our own or not."

It was true when you considered it carefully, in the face of adversity they only fanned the flames of spite; unless they were to find a different way to face the ire of the world. "That's why I know... no... I feel that somehow some way, mages and people can live together. If the misguided could be educated proper, to show what good magic can really do in the world; then perhaps other societies will come to be more accepting of mages." Perhaps that was the first step somehow, since Lysoria had endeavored to maintain such a thing. A society where mages weren't so in the dark all the time, and therefore not as misconstrued as malicious monsters in other parts of the world.

[Alistair]

Trevor truly was sweet, though Alistair could only feel that he was flirting with him. It's far too easy to be nice to you, he said, causing the smallest blush to creep among Alistair's cheeks. The mage... nodded very lightly, looking into the Defier's eyes. One can only speculate it's due to that charismatic face you possess, or perhaps that charming personality you wield so effortlessly. Alistair's somewhat somber expression became more jovial - Trevor was clearly trying to compliment him, and he certainly succeeded. The first compliment was of his face - charismatic, he called it. Another word for attractive, handsome. And the charming personality? Well. Being charming meant wielding an attractive trait. The mage, perhaps on a rudimentary level, wanted to charm Trevor . . . so he followed what he perceived as his flirtation in equal kind.

"What I wouldn't do to charm you," he murmured, taking on a low tone to his voice. Alistair was, of course, far from timid with the expression of his affections - or would-be affections. Trevor was a handsome man, who spoke articulately, and knew the wonders and glories of magic. More than that, he had his own mind, and his own complex opinions and beliefs. He was no simple, arbitrary thing - he was... a source of some level of fascination, and wonder. Alistair simply could not pass on the opportunity to make an advance - even if it was taken with discomfort, it could equally be taken in stride.

But they moved forward, and Trevor was right. Perhaps fighting wasn't the answer. They needed to make magic appear benevolent to the wider crowd, rather than dangerous or tyrannical. They needed to emphasize the goodness of it - putting out fires, transporting goods, healing the wounded, finding the lost, protecting brothers and comrades with shields of replicated layers. The two opposite-natured people, mages and non-mages, needed to live harmoniously.

And... he was right. For that, they needed education. They needed wisdom and guidance, and love, and companionship. Mages and non-mages need to come together in all things but their spark. If they did, then there would be more mages - more people willing to try. Though magic could be gruesome, it was also valuable, and beautiful. Many people died pursuing their craft, but those crafts brought benefit to the people around them. He knew that he could make ether and arcana seem approachable. He just had to try.

But for that, he needed companions, and allies. And so he could only ask.

"Trevor," he whispered his name, softly, "You live in this place - among mud and leaves and small pools of water. The wind speaks to you, and I'm certain you enjoy what simple bearings you have. But I want to ask you, and offer to you, the chance to make your life more meaningful. To serve at my side as a member of the Commonwealth for Free Mages, a group that is nothing more than a name right now. You have good ideas. You could... bring us some success, and I think you'd be popular among both mages and non-mages alike," Alistair stated, complimenting the man. Hopefully, he would agree.

If anything, that was his second question, to respond to Trevor's three. He wanted for him to say yes, of course. Desperately wanted that. But at this point, it was only on him to decide, and Alistair could not feel anger either way.

"So - what say you?"

[Trevor]

Trevor's eyebrows rose as he couldn't help but give a bit of a 'oh' look, thanks to the flirtatious advance Alistair seemed to make towards him. Him? Charm Trevor? He certainly had the knack for pulling it off, admittedly the fire mage couldn't help but blush only just a little with a grin. "See? Already off to a credible start, with that charming wit you confidently possess." Naturally he meant it to be more of a tease, although there was a merit of truth as well. So far the conversation between them felt less heated and more understanding, since the fire mage shared what considerable thought he had on the matter.

Truly he did believe that there could be a place, or even a time, where mages didn't live in such fear of the world. Where the unwary scrutinized them for what they were, and the zealous bigots that sought absolution no longer had to hunt them. While the ideal was far too much in itself just that, an ideal, Trevor ultimately believed that such a thing could be possible. Not currently so for the moment as no such place seemed to exist, but eventually in time mages wouldn't be so frowned upon. Such an unknown quantity to the majority of the world. Ironically it would seem his ideals warranted interest in Alistair, as he seemed to express a very peculiar notion which piqued the Defier's interest.

Interestingly Trevor craned his head to the side with curious eyes on the man, a little flattered as well as surprised to be given honest praise. "Recruiting I see? Curious to think someone like me could provide so much, but given state of things in my life right now; how could I deny myself an opportune proposal?" He mused with a wry smile as he looked from Alistair to the world around them. All of it. All of the nature and the earth, the wind as well as the sky, were aspects he took in as he considered the offer more willingly. Trevor even listened to his sentient friends, curious to learn what exactly they felt on the matter. First was the earth itself as the ground beneath his feet softened, the dirt and chips of rock around his feet lightly vibrated a couple of times.

Then the wind told him it's own validation, in which he furrowed his brows as he listened closely to the breeze. Then finally after being silent in his meditation upon their council, Trevor looked back to his new friend once more with a gentle grin across his lips. "From the looks of it, even my friend's can agree; siding with you would better both serve me as well as the rest of the world. From the looks of it you need as much aid as you can muster, therefore I'll do all I can to help make things a little easier." Trevor then took the staff in one hand and leaned it away from him, a turn of his form as he looked to his fellow mage with a curious fixation.

"Though I do have to ask, what is my purpose in this growing fold you'll be leading?"