• Mature • Empty Moons

[Alistair]

82nd of Ashan, Arc 718

Where have I gone?

I've fallen so far.

Each fortnight, a different spirit. A different man. I wear only one face, now, but my heart is for many. Doran, Jonathan, Patrick... Fridgar. And more - I spill in so many directions, like a broken glass. Outward, each and every way, flowing. Perhaps I am broken. Yes... I believe I am.

My allegiances change. My beliefs falter. I want, desperately, to belong... to do something. To be someone. But who am I? At this point -- who am I?

He laid in the darkness of the eve, his sides pressed into the ground, muscularly nude form revealed beneath the subtle hues of lights shone from far away. Town was not utterly distant, but... he was alone in the night. Predator, prey, transient; he could be anywhere, do anything... it didn't matter. The moon was not risen in the sky, though the sun had come to set. It was very, very dark, and the creatures that thrived off such blackness thrived in the now. He could hear the lynxes prowling, the bobcats roaring... even snakes slithering among the grass. He'd gotten so well at noticing everything around him, but... so late to react to it all.

Before long, he found himself gnashed upon by a violent insect, a flying buzzard biting at him in sudden motions before withdrawing and swinging by to strike. The mage swatted it away - it wouldn't go - so he grabbed it into his palm and crushed it, the beast biting at his fingers as much as it could. It didn't matter. His skin and flesh were strong... and though the pain was there, and it stung, it was minor. He would recover soon - his torturous form always made sure of that.

Alistair stood from the grass and stared out, watching as the moon seemed to rise in the distance. So - late. The beasts of the field already had their fun.

His lips parted, and he began to sing beneath his breath. A short tune, to be sure, lasting only a few trills... leading into a despondent hum. As he continued, he grew only more emotional, and the words came out once again.

"You, will be mine; I'll be yours... 'til the dying of our days. I... will be fine, even more, when you turn and go to war... just... come back... just come back... Fridgar. I'm not fine, Fridgar. I'm really not," he whispered, beginning to whimper, as the wind blew through the fields... trees swaying in the distance, and brazier's flames nearly extinguishing from the nearby town.

The mage lamented. No matter how hard he tried, and for however long, nothing could ever repair the hollow. Nothing. The damage was irreparable - and his heart would never come back untorn.

[Nir'wei]

Even breathing. Slow steps. Watch your footing; mind the branches. Watch your prey, but watch your feet, keep low and in the shadows. But it was all so hard, it felt like he didn't have enough eyes. How could anyone know what they were doing in such darkness? He squinted, trying to peer through the muddy blackness into the featureless ground, but by the time he looked back up, the bobcat was gone; he'd spent so long finding the perfect spot and lining himself up, he'd let his prey walk away unchallenged. It wasn't his fault, though. Hunting wasn't something he'd really needed to for himself in a while, and he'd never been particularly good at it from the start; though tonight they'd once again return home without anything to show for it, a few trials ago Jasper had caught not one, but two reasonably-sized fish in a river not far from their territory, and the smoked and salted remains would make for a small but decent meal. Traveller was away, but he always brought something back when he left on long ventures, almost like an apology gift. Or more likely because he didn't think he'd able to care for himself in that time, and needed to bring some food for his groomer lest he starve.

"Hey, you didn't scare it off this time." The lack of condescension in his voice was appreciated, but it didn't make him feel any better. The wolf felt that, too. There were very few things that the wolf couldn't feel... he wasn't sure if that really made it better or worse. "Now you're over-complicating things again."

Nir'wei chose not to say anything as he exhaled sharply, straightened up and re-cased his short-bow. "Come on, let's just go," he said aloud, hearing snippets of distant rustling as small animals fled at his voice. "I'm done for the night." He needed more practice, desperately, but there were just so many other things consuming his time. So many! Development at the new land was painstakingly slow. The Skye Verath Lodge demanded his attention more than ever, with Skyriders deployed at breakneck paces for reasons they refused to go into details on. It struck a nerve. He was the one looking after their mounts, the least they could do was give him the common courtesy of conversation, but the one that talked to him at all seemed to suddenly jump conversation whenever it came to their daily work, what their assignments were. Even with prompting, even with pleading! He needed to know what to prepare in case they came back with an arrow-wound from chasing down a bandit, or a sword-wound, or... "This isn't the place I left, Greyhide."

"You're not the same man who left. Things change." The last time they'd been in Rynmere, the wolf had still been human, technically. That change was something he didn't think either of them minded. This was different. This was... odd. "It's only different because you don't understand it; it's only odd, because you don't accept it." He really didn't like it when the wolf answered his thoughts; it felt like the wolf was just sitting inside his head, watching everything that went through it. "That's because I am." Stop that! "You don't mind it when that dumb squirrel does it!" He didn't care what that dumb squirrel thought about his inner monologue, though. Archailist... was a strange entity. One that he'd never understand, one that he even now struggled to accept as a true part of himself. Greyhide felt more a part of his soul than many things. Bound in a way that nobody would ever understand.

Warm breath tickled his fingers as the wolf pressed his head into his palm. "Karem did more for us both than I think even she realises." They stopped, staring into the empty darkness. Silent as they fed in one-another's presence. Archailist was there too, always there, but silent and dormant, his own form of sleep, or perhaps meditation. And in that silence, a soft singing trickled over them all, like droplets of rain.

It came from a man. A naked man, lying sprawled in the grass; he'd never seen him on the way, he'd probably have missed him on the way back. Nir'weis eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as he drew nearer, and he noted heavy, rippling muscles; a bouncer perhaps? Surely not the victim of a robbing, though a smaller man would have looked the part. Perhaps just a drunkard, though he smelled no alcohol. He could have kept walking, but instead he sat down next to the man and laid on his back, staring up into the sky as he did. He was supposed to be helping people, after all. That was what Faith would have done. "You want a drink?" A white shirt and dark brown trousers were all he had on hand, otherwise he would have offered something perhaps a little more useful. "Only got water, I'm afraid." He untied the waterskin from its loop on his hip and offered it to the stranger, still more than half-full. He'd hoped for a longer hunting expedition and packed accordingly with his bow and many leather loops to display his kills, but with so many empty spaces on his belt, he must have looked quite an idiot. As he settled, Greyhide padded around them both and started sniffing curiously at the man's face.

[Alistair]

It was strange, to have someone . . . lay beside him? He immediately grew uncomfortable, and wondered, looking at the other man with a suspicious bewilderment as the mage curled his chest forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, concealing much of the portions of his body that did not . . . entirely need to be seen. He then lowered his head into his forearm to wipe his eyes, sniffling once as he cleared his throat.

Who was this man? Why would anyone elect to join him in this state? He thought, perhaps, that if someone were to see him . . . they would simply move on. He was surrounded by grass and nothingness, with the only touches of civilization lights in the distance. Out in an open field in the middle of a vast nothingness, he knew he appeared more bizarre and untangled than any.

But someone did come, and despite his presupposed expectations, the man was . . . somewhat kind. He offered him a waterskin, though the magister immediately shook his head. "No, that's... quite alright," he said, replying promptly and without the same traces of sorrow in his tone. He had normalized, as much as he could through the duress and embarrassment of laying nude in a field, now accompanied by one other.

"I'm sorry, um - cultural ritual," he stated, excusing his actions with an awkward grin. He decided to play it up, lie about it; he could do no better than that. "In . . . Uthaldria," he started, knowing that the realm was isolated and relatively unknown, "we like to lay nude among the fields; our bare forms, built of nothing but clay, as we stare into the sky and pray in whispers. For everything - everything we've been given. And, in that moment, if we are preyed upon by some foul beast of Gauthrel . . . we'll know in our coming life that we have done wrong." He stated this with what felt like whole truth to it; Alistair had always found that his ability to fake a story was, at least, quite good.

The noble only become better, too, since acquiring the blessing of the Tempestuous.

"I apologize, though - it is... rather embarrassing in these parts," he added, cracking a broken grin in an attempt to supplement the false nervousness that was - truthfully - being fed by actual nervousness. Alistair then turned to the other man, examining him. He had... long hair, darkly colored, with medium olive skin and considerable features; a strong brow, piercing gaze, and generous facial hair... though not quite on the same degree.

He looked unique, in Rynmere. A Sev'ryn, very likely, though the man could not be wholly certain.

"I'm..." he started, before realizing he couldn't finish. Not Alistair; too blatant. Not Kieran, either, as he didn't want this face linked to that name. "Ali," he simply called himself. It wasn't a lie, but not the breadth of his noble name. People would know him as Alistair Venora, or as nothing at all. "And you?" he questioned, keeping himself locked in his curling position. He was certainly not comfortable with flashing the goods to just anyone.

[Nir'wei]

He'd never had the chance to really look close, but as the man suddenly curled in on himself in a display of embarrassment, he had time to really observe. He was cute; handsome in that way only a man with the thick corded muscles like his could be. He could do with a beard though. A hard jaw, barely any hair apart from a bare few inches at the top... and clean shaven everywhere else, to boot. Not a wildling, as he would have thought... as he probably looked himself. Despite his obvious raw strength, he really wasn't very intimidating, especially as he tried to awkwardly explain himself with unsure, lopsided smiles. More of a lost boy than a tribal warrior. All of a sudden, a cacophony.

"He smells clean," Greyhide muttered in amusement. He already knew that, of course; that's why he'd already discounted the drunkard explanation. "No. Cleaner." He wasn't really sure what that was supposed to mean, but he assumed it meant this guy had taken a bath recently, at least.

Archailist's presence seemed to pop suddenly into existence, like a veil had been lifted. "Forget what he smells like, I want to know where his clothes are." Nir'wei didn't look up, but he was suddenly aware... he hadn't seen any clothes, folded neatly or otherwise anywhere near him. Did he walk from... wherever he'd been, all the way here, completely naked and never get stopped? Certainly sounded weird.

Greyhide wasn't swayed. "Maybe he left them hidden." Made sense, nobody wanted their belongings stolen while they, y'know, sat in the middle of a field singing to themselves and waiting for imaginary monsters to come and rip them open.

"In where?" Archailist retorted. "It's an open field with nothing around! Go and look if you don't believe me." He didn't know what happened after that, but there was an odd moment of silence before the wolf spoke up again. This time with a little more concern in his tone, mixed with genuine confusion.

"He's too clean to live nearby... couldn't keep any clothes there... this is weird." Nir'wei had his own thoughts as well that simply weren't adding up, but he'd dismissed them on the count of 'other cultures are weird' logic. Now he really wasn't so certain, and he was beginning to see the pattern that the wolf and squirrel were both struggling to piece together themselves. Or, well, part of it. He never would have seen it at all if not for the extra two pairs of eyes watching the same thing he was, pointing out the details he'd missed. Where would he be without them? On second thought, that avenue was better left untouched.

Damnit, he couldn't believe he was doing this. But the two of them had piqued his curiosity far too much to back down now. "I'm Nir'wei. The wolf is Greyhide." Greyhide gave a small sniff and then sat down, staring at the two of them from overhead with bright eyes matching his own. "So... that's, well. Quite a cultural ritual." He didn't want to insult the stranger, but... this really didn't add up. "You... came to this field naked, walked all the way from your home then? Because I don't see your clothes folded anywhere, and I mean, you don't exactly look the type to be living nearby, in this neck of the fields. Also, far be it for me to question cultural beliefs, but... erm. You guys seriously just lie down in the middle of nowhere and hope a hungry animal doesn't eat you? I hope that's not a regular thing." Whatever monsters they had in the Fields of Gauthrel must have been wildly different to what he'd expected. "You don't even bring a weapon with you to defend yourself, you just lie there... die? Like that, because you might have done something wrong?"

He shook his head and sighed. He was being far too hard on the guy. He'd clearly been through... something, Karem knew what, and here he sat grilling him over the stupidest of things. "... Nevermind. I'm sorry, I was speaking callously." It was Archailist and Greyhide that had sparked this, damnit! "I've got a place nearby and some spare clothes if you need them." And the troupe grew bigger, he thought to himself. "Just... look, I won't judge you, I promise. We all do weird things or have weird stuff happen or... or whatever. Just tell me what happened on the way so I can see what I can do to help. Okay?" Gods, now he really needed to perform to make up for his shitty remarks earlier. Insulting another culture? What was he thinking!

[Alistair]

As Nir'wei introduced himself, the mage's demeanor lightened, pleased to know that despite his embarrassing state, the other man still regarded him enough to offer his pleasantries. Nir'wei, Greyhide. A wolven companion, much like a Krome. Alistair had always found such beasts enchanting in their companionship, and never had he found himself fully able to tempt the loyalty of a truly significant animal companion.

As the Sev'ryn - who was obviously so - began to... dig further insight into his claim of cultural ritual, Alistair stared quietly with a flushed expression and simply allowed for the man to lambast him. Getting into character, perhaps as a Sesser would, he almost felt personally offended and flustered as the man digged at his cultural tradition, even though in truth it didn't exist. Though it sounded like something a Lotharro would do, he too had to reckon that they were not so suicidal as to merely lay down among the grassy knolls of Gauthrel and be eaten by a Feron, or a Scython.

Or even, of course, a sodding Stekir.

You don't even bring a weapon with you to defend yourself, you just--

He stopped him there.

"My fists are all I need," the man stated, confidently before he began to laugh at... himself. This was so ridiculous. And of course, he was wading into another conversation with another stranger... beginning with a lie. No. He had to correct himself. Alistair stood from the barren grass and untouched soil, revealing himself fully without realizing, with a placated look upon his lips, and cheeks. Nir'wei's introduction had been... entertaining, to say the least, as he poked all of the logical holes that he could, and questioned the man's purpose for coming here in the nude just to risk his life.

"I was lying," he stated, honestly. "It's not a cultural ritual, though I have dwelled - for some time of late - in Gauthrel. Their melodrama, and fondness of bare bodies and want of nature, did make me comfortable enough being here in the state that I'm in. I -- it's good to meet you, Nir'wei," he stated, extending a hand as he stared fondly to the Sev'ryn. He had fully disregarded his own compromised state, far too focused on the man before him, and what kindness he had already offered. A home. Clothes. Solace. He was... a good man, Alistair could already tell.

"As for what happened on the road here? Well. That story could go on for hours; all my grief and sorrow have really compounded of late. That's why... I'm in this embarrassing state, where I am now. But it's okay -- somehow, in your own way, you made me feel better. I appreciate it." His smile was light, and earnest. Though as he glanced downward and witnessed the full breadth of his embarrassing appearance, he bit his lip, a gut-wrenching embarrassment truly setting in.

"Perhaps we should, after all, go to your home. That might be wise," he said. "Or," he offered, "we could stay here. Bare, both of us; ventilating all our woes and worries. There are so many in this world. I feel no true shame in being as I am, splayed out before the sparks of light resting in the sky. If there is anything to be reviled on Idalos, it is not my naked humanity, but the foul heart that lies within it. I wish we could all be rid of these vices."

[Nir'wei]

Even in his shame, he had to admire the confidence in his voice. How could a man trust his fists, bare as they were, to protect himself against the world? Against swords, maces, claws and teeth? Surely it was just as foolish as appearing without any clothes, let alone armour... and yet the way he said it didn't just show confidence, but competence. Bizarre. He would have asked more, but he'd clearly pushed enough boundaries already. Soon, he realised just how good it'd been to keep his mouth shut. A lie, as in an excuse, or an intentional deception? The harder he tried to look, the more blurred the lines became. Why was he so fixated on it anyway? You'd have to be a little weird to lie naked in a field, no matter the excuse, just accept it and move on. Hesitantly, he took the hand and shook it, shivering involuntarily as he realised how oddly warm he was. Shouldn't normal people be cold? Again, he wiped it clean. Just stop thinking about it! "Uhm, it's uhh. It's nice to meet you too."

Despite himself, a slight smile pushed at the corner of Nir'weis lips. He meant it; it was nice. Though he wasn't sure if getting naked was the answer, for a moment he caught himself considering it, just for fun. Why not, after all? It was quite clear that nobody else was going to walk by and see them. But they'd barely known each-other for a few minutes! But... who cared? "If you want to be rid of your vices, the first thing you should do is stop searching for forgiveness in a grass patch with your bollocks out," he quipped. But the first two buttons of his shirt were already falling undone, exposing the vibrant twirls of tattoos spanning his chest and stomach, muted by the pale moonlight. "Nor should it really work if you're looking for companionship," he grunted, "but I guess you were just unlucky that I happened to be passing." Karem, it was cold! The creeping sort that worked its way up your limbs while you stood still, and thin as his shirt had been, without it, he felt the cold snap with much more ferocity than before. As soon as his shirt hit the floor, he regretted his decision.

But damn, he was a little too deep now to back out, he thought to himself. Gritting his teeth and hooking both thumbs around his waist, he dropped everything in one quick motion and hopped out. "There. If you're not going to stop embarrassing yourself, I might as well do it with you." Though he certainly wasn't as shameless as the bodybuilding hobo, one hand perpetually hovering to hide his shame. "Though, as for woes... honestly, I can't think of many, myself."

He sat in the cool grass and rolled back, hissing through his teeth as the cold dirt pressed to his back, sending shivers through his extremities. "I worry for a little Tunawa. She doesn't seem very well, recently lost a friend. I don't really know her that well, or her pain, but I worry nonetheless. And I worry for this city. Lately I've felt... watched. It's an unsettling thing. People think I'm a mage, because of the eyes. I'm not, but... they don't believe me, and I worry what'll happen if they decide that I am. Though honestly, when I really think about it, that's the only worries I have. And the more I think about them, the less they are." He smiled, for just a moment. Then a frown pressed across his face and he turned back to the stranger with a soft sigh. "... But... am I so free because I have done no wrong... or am I just doing wrong, but I never see it? How would I ever even know?"

[Alistair]

It was difficult to express what about this man particularly invoked his repertoire of emotions; curiosity, comfort, and a sort of binding... warmth that made his movements sluggish, and his form defeated by a relaxing, embracing fatigue. Nir'wei was a gentle man - of a like he'd not really met. Those who presented themselves as such were often liars, calling the mind into a venomous grip. But he... didn't feel so. In fact, as he witnessed an array of emotions of Nir'wei's own; embarrassment, shyness and then open candor, Alistair was filled with a sensation of calm and serenity. His lips parted to speak, but the words were quickly drawn back -- it was difficult to find the right things to say.

And then the other man bore out his body, too, but with a bit more subtlety than Alistair had. He was far less brazen, but then, he wasn't trying to impersonate being a Lotharro. Alistair would have recommended the exercise to anyone else who could pass for one - it was liberating, to not uphold the humane standards of self. To allow one's guard to fall. Watching Nir'wei join in the madness was such a gratifying experience, he couldn't withhold a firm, unabated grin.

"Was I unlucky?" he rebutted. But, with those vague words, he settled back into the grass to accompany the Sev'ryn as he spilled his own inner strife. It was fascinating - and equally tempting to comment on the pain that came to him merely by the idea that he may be a mage. But he spared his ideology, for the moment, hoping that by forbidding it he would see the man more closely. It wasn't about the magic. His mind was torn at odds with itself; what struggles did he have? One of his greatest struggles was empathy, for another -- a Tunawa who had experienced great pain. For empathy to be at the forefront of one's mind in examining their own woes, was to mark a good man.

Nir'wei had a gentle, and giving heart. Alistair almost wished he could find himself inside of it, somewhere - but remembered the poison that his influence was.

Alistair leaned forward. Into the light. In fact, he made his own light, channeling Brilliance from his spark of Transmutation. An ethereal glow filled the field, with the blades of grass lit by a flurry of neon blue, washing outward in spirals. Alistair's gaze came fully into view; what was before an enigmatic blue shade was now very visibly a tide of magic, glowing with the light of his ether. Eyes like a vortex, a typhoon. He wanted to state it clearly: that he knew. What it was like to fear, and to be witnessed with the same look, by many different faces. Faces and voices that had nothing in common, that whispered to one another, as they always did.

"I think your eyes are beautiful. And even if they were the eyes of a mage - I would find beauty in that, too." Alistair spoke honestly, with a grain of almost love; as much as one could have for a kind stranger, at least. "I can't answer all that you have to ask," he replied, "because I don't know either. I'm... kind of the opposite, you know? I tell myself I'm wrong all the time. Always look back, reflecting, reflecting. Regretting. But maybe I wasn't wrong - maybe I just want to think that way so I can... move on. Instead of fighting with these memories, always fighting; flinching at the wrongdoings done to me, arguing that everyone else was at fault. I accept that everything's me. That all the evil comes from me. But it's never that simple."

His eyes, those vortexes, closed shut. And he sighed, and quivered into a frown, with more intensity than he'd known in a long time. The weight was heavy - on both of them. On everyone that lived. It was so tiring.

The mage's eyes opened.

"Look at the opposites we are -- you, the man who never does wrong, and I... the man who always does. I almost envy you, but I don't. Envy's the last thing I feel." Was it an insult? An implication? It was unclear.

The man moved himself, pivoting his body that sat still against the grass, until he lingered beside the Sev'ryn. Their warmth almost intermingled - he could feel the outer layer of Nir'wei's body heat. And then he moved right up beside him, laying flat on his back, the two open to the stars together. It was - to him - an infinitely beautiful thing. Unmarred by evil. He coveted the moment, and however long it would last.

"You're really small - I've got a whole... lower leg up on you. Bookshelves must be an excise in misery," the man laughed, lightly. Nir'wei, in his almost frailty, was quickly becoming a target for his thoughts.

[Nir'wei]

For a moment, just a short one, he paused at the question. Damn, you'd think given how far they'd come already, he'd have learned to expect the unexpected, yet a simple compliment had utterly stunned him. Mostly because he'd just been making fun. All of it was fun; perhaps that was why it felt so easy to stop worrying about people seeing them both, what his friends or neighbours would think if they took a midnight stroll and found him star-fished in the dew. But it was clear Alistair still took it deadly serious... and every reminder of that was a splash of cold water on his already-frozen hide. His mouth opened for a retort, but nothing came out - and with the other man looking the other way, he decided to simply let the question hang unanswered.

But gods, he was serious. He could see it in those eyes as he leaned close, sparkling with the glow of the moon's blue glow... wait, the moon didn't make light like that. A mage? It certainly seemed so. Maybe that explained the odd behaviour. But not the look in his eyes or the words on his lips. "Your eyes are... unnatural and slightly scary." Yep, there was honesty in his words as well. "But I can see a lot in them." The whirlpools drew deeper than any normal gaze he'd met, and yet their brightness and clarity reminded him of the beaches near the Itoju in Desnind. Vibrant and filled with life. "Buried deep down there somewhere, under all the heaps of guilt and misery you've shackled to yourself, is someone else, I think. A person you could have been, and probably still could, if you'd stop blaming yourself so much. Because you are the most intelligent idiot I've ever met."

Nir'wei pursed his lips in thought for a second, then sighed out a warm breath that steamed in the freezing air. "All evil doesn't come from you. Pointing at people is pointless; evil isn't a person, even the most evil of us. It's a part of the world, just as much as good, and neutral, and all the other bits. It comes, it goes, it comes back somewhere else, and then the good comes, and the good fights it, and then evil wins! Or good wins, or neither of them, or both! And falling through it all is you and me and millions of others, flopping from one side to the other and back again like fish in a desert." His gaze, at some point, had drifted away, and he noted that Alistair's eyes had closed as well. The glow ebbed and fizzled out beneath them, and he flopped back onto the ground with a 'whump'.

"Good, evil? Doesn't matter. Happy matters, though. And me, I'd rather be happy. And I'd do what's right. Right and wrong aren't the same as good and evil. You can do what's right and still be evil, or do what's wrong and have it be good. But I'd rather be happy, and right." As if some decision had been reached, he nodded to himself to affirm it, and a slight playfulness returned to his voice now that all the serious talk was out in the air. "And what's right for me is to stop worrying about all this shit and just be happy for once. Hah!"

Like that, the edge to the air was gone, and he felt a tremendous weight lifted back off his chest. And a sharp snap of cold as his mind suddenly became aware that it was piercing cold right now. "OI!" He struck with a fist and whammed Alistair's left bicep with a good overhand punch with the soft side of his fist. Or, well, good for him. The muscle could have been plate armour for all the actual pain he'd inflicted, and it sure as hell felt as solid as well when his fist came back throbbing gently, like he'd just tried to hit a wall. "I gotta ask, when you try to fit yourself through a doorframe, which gives you the most trouble, your stupidly massive body or your stupidly massive head? Huh?"

[Alistair]

Unnatural and slightly scary. Alistair immediately laughed, audibly and certainly loud, as the man failed on all accounts to return the compliment. And that was alright - in a way, it was a compliment of its own. The mage immediately began to flicker his eyelids, teasingly, as the glowing vortex opened to view only to be concealed by the simplicity of his skin. It looked a little like a light show, only localized to his face.

But Nir'wei was serious - genuinely so. He spoke of what he saw in them, and what Alistair was behind them, or... used to be. Or could be. And then, finally, he did return a compliment - the Sev'ryn dubbed him essentially as the King of Fools, the Wisest Idiot. The Genius Cretin. Alistair laughed again, but lightly and beneath his breath, and with a wide smile upon his lips. Nir'wei was right, he could only admit... about everything. About good and evil, and their fluctuation between everyone. And that no one could be an origin to anything - of course they couldn't. How could Alistair have ever thought that one could be the origin to such profound concepts? Or even act as a doorway?

The truth was, even with the influx of evil, there came no true end. It all continued on... and men like Alistair, as belittling as this was, would only be footnotes in history regardless of their impact. Even if he were to die as a tyrant, upon the backs of suffering of millions of others, he would be... a sliver of a thing. The grandiose nature of their universe was his entry point into magic, yet in all this time he'd almost forgotten. Probably through self-importance, his great flaw.

Happiness did matter. Perhaps more than anything. That, and fulfillment - he wanted them both. Right now, laying here with the Sev'ryn, he felt both to varying degrees. He felt free of his burdens, free to think upon everything without needing to suffocate his mind with condemnation. It was a quiet solace, among the quiet night and the gleaming stars. The mage nodded once, and his eyes opened again, his lips parted lightly as if he wanted to speak - but he couldn't think of the right thing to say, within the many thoughts that encircled him. Most of all, he wanted to thank Nir'wei, for being profound. For providing him far more comfort than what could ever be transcribed by one's body against the soil.

Of course, instead, he teased him about his height... to the rebuttal of a fist slammed into his bicep, a sensation he didn't even recognize occurred. When Alistair turned to see Nir'wei's fist apparently throbbing, though only for a brief moment, his brow quirked as the Sev'ryn asked his question in return.

"Hrm. Adequate query. Let me speak bluntly, it's most certainly my stupidly massive..."

He pondered. And pondered. To the point that it must have been an insinuation, especially as his hand reached down to scratch by his thigh. "Anyway, it's most certainly my head. Fortunately, they don't design door frames to be singularly adequate to little round-breasted androgynes like you. But they also certainly don't design them to adequately fit tall men like me -- so we're at an impasse," he chuckled. Alistair then turned to the other, and lightly tapped him on the arm, taking on some of the Sev'ryn's almost humbling enthusiasm.

"Hey--" he began. "Thank you, Nir'wei. Your words... really do mean a lot. After everything that's happened, and everything I've done. I don't know the last time I've felt so content to be me. If happiness is the most important thing, then... well, you've done well to bring it to me. I feel... really nice right now," the mage expressed, a grin consuming the corner of his lips. He then boldly, without discerning thought, inquired: "Would you want me to hold you? I've noticed your occasional... trembling, and I know it's cold. Equally, I... also know the question's sort of odd, human society and all," he laughed, still content to wear the guise of a Lotharro for his entertainment, "but it's not really that odd, if you think about it. In Lotharen culture, everyone's virtually an animated bedroll, when it's cold like this. My word's authenticity is guaranteed," he stated, nodding to himself. Another ridiculous claim - and probably a lie. He didn't really know; Alistair had been a city dweller when he was out in Gauthrel, not some odd outer-wall proletarian desperately clinging to their pet Scython for survival.

The claims were funny, though. And seemed to work. And in truth, Alistair really wanted to bring comfort to the kind Sev'ryn, a part of the simplicity in his nature as a man.

[Nir'wei]

Nir raised an eyebrow at the pause, waiting, waiting... and rolling his eyes, just barely stopping himself from punching Alistair yet again, regardless of how futile a gesture it would be. Karem above, he was insufferable! "Round breasted-- oh shut up, bubble-body. You'd be lucky to fit through a double-door and trust me, it's nothing to do with height, it's to do with the fact that you're so wide you take up both sides of every street you walk down." There was a teasing smirk on his mouth, but with everything left so bare and obvious, it was a little difficult not to take another look. Bloody hell. Were those abs, or bricks? "Maybe that's why you're naked, you can't even fit into clothes, can you. All the shirts don't fit over your head and all the trousers can't stand your..." He couldn't even trail off without breaking into soft laughter, muffled behind his lightly-aching hand as he rolled around and chuckled to himself. Damnit all, Alistair should be ashamed of himself! He'd turned Nir all crass in the grass.

The touch saved him at least. Managed to wake him back up a little, and constrain those giggles once more. "You're welcome, Alistair." It felt... deeply satisfying, he realised, to know that he'd actually managed to do the good he'd set out to do. Even if it wasn't in the way he'd intended. Even if it'd convinced him to strip naked, lie with a stranger, ponder deep meanings of the universe and joke about penis sizes. Everything had all worked out well. "I feel that way too." Happy. Content. If he was honest as well, not entirely because of the good deed he'd done, either. Alistair might talk a lot about things he really didn't understand, some dark things hidden behind his words, but he could laugh, and joke, and be happy. He felt like good company.

Which was probably what made his face suddenly burn at such an unexpected offer. Bloody hell, he really knew how to throw thoughts like those out of nowhere, huh. Nir's mouth flapped open and shut for a few moments as he tried to pull together the words to explain himself. Mostly it just looked like some very poor imitations of a fish, combined with noises of an even worse impersonation of a cow. "Uhh, I, well. Erm. That would be because, y'know, it's really... not normal to be naked in the middle of Ashan... actually one of the worst times to be doing it." He was sure he'd already brought it up. Multiple times, in fact. But it was still happening, and it was still one of the strangest behaviours he had ever seen, and he couldn't help but just keep staring at it-- him! Staring at him! "Secondly, don't know if I said firstly, to the last thing, y'know, but secondly, secondly you really need to stop talking about Lotharen culture, because the more you talk about it the more convinced I get that you belong in an institution." Seriously. Animated bedrolls? Naked everywhere?

"But... uhm. Yes. Please. If you... wouldn't mind." Greyhide got up from where he'd sat nearby and laid down against Nir's back, quite easily sandwiching him between their combined warmth. "You know, my camp is still not very far from here," he muttered as a reminder, but it seemed a bit of a lost cause now. They were here, in the moment, and it felt more relaxing than any old campfire or bed could really offer either of them. It was the presence. Truth be told, Nir had never really been held before, and he wrapped an arm over Alistair with his hand on the man's waist, tucking his chin into the warm crook of his neck with breath washing down his collarbone. Somewhere along the line he must have become too comfortable though. His breath evened out, mind turning still as the moment washed over him... and his eyes drifted shut. Greyhide was still awake of course, but said nothing, content to let sleeping Nir'weis lie, if Alistair was.