Incendium {Vaet}

[Makura]

A breath of heat sucked into thirsty lungs, eyes like the flame smiling in tune with the subtle curvature of soft lips from where a lone fey stood at the edge of the river. He stared, as if transfixed by the movement of the molten rock, serene, at peace and at home.

Makura avoided the city today, though the sounds of it reached his ears even here, a steady but droll heartbeat of society, of labor. There were no warriors here, no soldiers, no practitioners of flames drawn in by the military today, and only a minuscule part of him minded it. By nature he held no strong attachment to other fey anymore, but he was certainly hard pressed to say that he didn't enjoy the company of others in small doses here and there.

After all, who would want truly to be alone forever?

Solitude for a lifetime would be enough to surely drive any fey mad, and while he himself had been not much more than a shadow in society the past century or so, he had not chosen to forsake fleeting company entirely, as some as old as him might have. He was not simply waiting for death, but waiting for something, perhaps... The world was still an unstable place, a fact that he could be aware of by doing one very simple thing; listening.

Again his eyes closed, and he could hear a phoenix song, a lick of flame dancing briefly skyward from the river and taking shape to spread its wings before it dissipated, his head craned back as if to watch it blindly.

He had company now, however, approaching footsteps quiet but audibly set apart from the sound of the lava's flow and the drone of the city, and he opened his eyes once more, slowly, gaze settled on the skyline. This coming fey, however, would likely not have missed the display of fire, but there had been no movement from him aside from the tilt of his head that would have suggested he was the conjurer (or that it was even conjured). His hands lifted, also slow, the deep, rust-oranges and coal black fabrics he wore shifting up his arms slightly at the movement, a winding scar just visible at the wrist.

"Tell me, my friend," he spoke to the approaching figure, yet to turn and face whoever it may have been, "did you know that a phoenix is a songbird?"

[Vaet Qou]

Spring always felt the most taxing. While the sun was in the fire’s favor, their kingdom had to share that wealth with one of their enemies. Vaet had never signaled out fey as a group, but as individuals. Unlike most fire fey, he was rational when it came to his method - yet, by no means, was he immune to creating mistakes. The warrior fell to these negative circumstances often lately, and idly wondered if he was the only one who held onto vast burdens. Days had rolled into long weeks, and he heard not a word from his ruler, or friend.

Thankful that he was not always in charge of the military sectors, he decided to do a survey check of their working area. He couldn’t imagine juggling political strings with physical means, for he was not a fey that could thrive on little amounts of sleep. However, the stress kept his wheels from rusting. The industrial part of town appeared all right, for most of the men were off spending their grace day with family. Without the bustle, the edges of the river seemed to be an empty space.

Despite progression, every fey was still in the long process of recovery - which never made new hardships any easier to take. Vaet took these silent moments in stride, his eyes following the molten colors of the river, only to catch a flash. He glanced up to catch a bird-like motion, and when he blinked, the bird disappeared, now dimming ashes floating in the air. Curiously, his eyes caught a figure standing there. There was no threat, unlike the night that he had witness the Death fey. For this stranger was obviously akin.

The phoenix, ah, so that is what it was.

Vaet glanced again to the mixture of red, following the lava skeptically, as if ignoring the question. Of course, the fire fey had always relied on the symbol of the phoenix - being it was an area they worshiped in. Even if the phoenix was a subcategory to reincarnation, it was also knowledge from his teacher that being reborn, could take away from all other beauties of the world.

“I don’t hear much of anything,” Vaet said quietly, aware that he was tuning out his own lifestyle, but what could he do with these impending days that threatened war?

[Makura]

For a moment longer, smoldering eyes watched the skyline, yet there was nothing there to see in the end, and Makura allowed his arms to drop back to his sides, just as slowly as they had risen in the first place. That subtle smile still remained as well, cryptic in its meaning and wise beyond knowing, a simmering calm not unlike the slow flowing of the river before him.

He let the angle of his head lower slightly, and only then did he turn to face his company, taking in the boy's appearance in one easy glance, a slow blink following. This fey seemed almost familiar in ways, and to one who listened to gossip it was not hard to place him in the seat of Warrior. But it was not that which had the Methusela curious, not that at all, for it was the boy's eyes, the curve of his jaw, and the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose not," he conceded, for there had never truly been a sound at all, just a feeling incited within him that had wanted out in the shape of a flame. The heat was around them here, after all, but through it he could feel a familiar flame, and he allowed himself to be drawn, steps fluid as he approached the Warrior, the heat following with him.

"Though, is that because you are listening with your ears?"

Again one arm lifted, one firebright lacquered nail tapping idly at his temple as his eyes lidded minutely. It was a somewhat lazy expression, self indulgent and playful, and he paused, the nail of his little finger pressed just at the edge of his lips. His expression turned somewhat expectant, his head tilting ever so slightly to the left.

"Truly, the song of the phoenix is within your heart, is it not?" he mused, his other arm lifting to press the tips of his fingers against his own chest, over the heart, only to pull them away with a lick of flame in tow. It was an overly indulgent gesture, in a way, and he took another step closer, wanting to draw the flame that he felt out of the boy before him.

[Vaet Qou]

Vaet rarely felt a sense of urgency in the lands of the fire. The fire nation had always been sufficient with their work, their laws and in their religion. Every citizen was treated as equals, in a sense, and the last time he had heard of deprivation was when the previous ruler had his filthy fingers on the land. Out of all the faces he had seen here, he could not recognize the other male to be someone he had met before. For a warrior, knowing identities were critical. Makura wasn’t the type of fey to forget, either, for this male’s appearance was rather uncommon with their new costumes.

Instead, Makura had reminded him of his elders. Even his mother had a peculiar sense of fashion, to show off all the red contrasts with pride, even if they were a bit eccentric. In fact, Vaet was trying to recall if he had seen someone like this before. For this fey’s features were similar to someone, were they not? The warrior’s brows raised slightly, watching the other male approach him slowly. Fire fey were not antisocial creatures, but the topic at hand was not something to have dire interest over.

Unless, of course, Makura had been one of those philosophical fey, like his teacher had been.

For once, he truly did not know how to react to the other fire fey. A sort of cryptic smile appeared on the warrior’s face, trying to pass the whole ordeal as a hallucination, or some type of sign that he was going insane. Still, no matter how many times he blinked or shifted his eyes from river to fey, he could not find any proof to discredit Makura’s actual existence. As distance started to close, he felt an unnatural wave of warmth. It had been similar to Lang’s presence when he was angered, but Makura’s force was consistent, controlled.

When Makura’s finger moved, he imagined a torch moving somewhere into darkness.

“Only during war, does my heart hear this song,” he amended, aware that the only time he had felt truly warmed was when he was faced with battle.

[Makura]

The eyebrows, yes, those too, but only in shape, the way they arced on the boy's face. It was apparent in the way that the Warrior reacted that he was not quite comfortable, though discomfort was something of a stretch, it seemed, and no matter how many times those eyes shifted he still managed to see them set into a somewhat different face.

Closer still, he stepped directly up to the boy, turning his words over once or twice in his mind before tilting his head back a hair before leaning in, invading Vaet's personal space rather easily.

"Can you hear it, then? That melody on the horizon?"

As if in complete contrast to his almost vague words, he was quite direct with his actions, brazen, even. Without preamble he gripped the boy's chin in his fingers, tilting his head this way and then that before his other hand joined in, fingertips tracing the an almost familiar line of a cheekbone. As quickly as he'd brought the almost uncomfortable heat of his hands there, though, he removed them, one resting over his heart once more and one over Vaet's.

"Not theirs, but perhaps theirs of theirs," he conceded, blinking slowly in order to give a brief nod, straightening from where he'd leaned over but keeping his hands where they were for the time being. "And yours..." He could feel it there, the flame within this Warrior.

"Yours is not quite mine," he finished, and not any of it had likely made sense. "Tell me, then, my dear Warrior, who else carries your flame?" And with that he drew both of his hands back, as if pulling the fire straight out of them both and into the open air to mingle into one flame. All it took was the parting of his lips and a gentle puff of air to disperse the flickering thing to nothing (though really it was a matter of willpower), and his lips again curved into that cryptic smile (not unlike the one that Vaet himself had been wearing).

He really didn't want to spoil it, didn't want to be found out, but in a way... Perhaps he did.

[Vaet Qou]

Vaet wanted to guard himself from Makura’s sudden physical touch. He had hated other fey who were disrespectful when it came to personal space. Also, the powers of heat were so unnatural to the warm temperatures in the area, that he had felt himself being overwhelmed. There was something inert pooling inside him, awaiting for some type of release. However, despite being half to a thousand, he had a large amount of control over his powers.

As a warrior in these lands, he could not react on impulse. There was no threat from Makura, none of which he could read. His gaze focused on the other male, and he simply stared. Vaet was a morsel to this fey, he knew, for the superiority in clothing and the choice of words were something of a tradition, on the verge of dying with the elder fey.

Years prior to this, at the peak of his childhood, his mother would’ve grabbed at his face like this. Probed at the shadow on his faces and complain that he had needed to work harder, not less. It was a very motherly gesture, and it bothered Vaet. At the release of his face, he did not feel any better, for the other male’s hand was upon his chest. Right over his heart.

His expression faltered into a timid frown, his lids lowered as though he would glare. Nothing came from him. Not until Makura pulled back, and he watched what he knew to be his flames, merge with Makura’s and then dissipate with a blow of air. Vaet did not sit on the title of his court, but he had felt slightly offended to see Makura act so openly.

“You obviously have an idea of who I am, but I can’t clarify who shares the same blood, for it would be rather cruel to threaten their safety, or privacy, for that matter.” Speaking the truth was all that he could do, and while Makura had recognized something out of Vaet, he would not be capable of placing Makura within his memories. So, polite - unlike Makura - the warrior took a step back, opening the space, as though the air would cool.

[Makura]

There the discomfort was, clear now in the downturn of the boy's lips, in the lowering of his eyelids. The frown, however, was a much more timid version of the one he'd seen so many times upon his aunt's lips. Hers, after all had always held just the smallest amount of utter disdain, of blame, and the flame in her heart had been conflicted.

Makura nodded again as Vaet spoke, that unusual smile of his softening slightly. As the Warrior stepped back he again placed his hand at the side of his own face, elbow propped atop his other hand in a rather contemplating look. How noble of him! Befitting of the Warrior of Fire, to protect them in that manner.

"Perhaps I should be clearer," he responded, giving a rather contradictorily vague wave of his hand as he averted his eyes up and to the left, head tilting in the opposite direction. The question of whether or not he actually would be clearer was something else entirely, however, and he paused for some time before he returned his gaze to the boy before him.

"Your grandmother, I presume," he began, tapping his pointer finger lightly against his temple before stilling the movement, breathe in, breathe out. Nothing but a calm facade and that smile, an expression that was simply second nature. But it seemed as though he was going to be clearer, though why he came to the conclusion that he wanted this boy to know of their relation he couldn't say.

A whim, perhaps, for he was known to have them on occasion.

"The Lady Zai Ranshao, correct?" It was a presumption, to be sure, but one that he did not make without plenty of forethought and consideration. He was positive that this fey was a step down the line from his aunt, and his flame was so similar that the chance of him being wrong was slim to none.

[Vaet Qou]

The situation felt as though talons gripping his shoulders. He felt bemused to see that there were many secrets, familiars that he was unaware of. Although, to be fair, he shouldn’t have felt surprised at all. Fire was not as flighty as wind, but they were similar in the fact that love often became fleeting. There would be only one expression of love, and that was to respect or never question elders. Yet, it did not mean a person would ignore sinful acts, but simply deal with it in a more honorable way. Which is why Vaet felt at lost around Makura.

A connection presented itself. The warrior did not want to acknowledge it for the time being, already upset with the fact that he had just found someone else linked to him. If he had made this complaint known, the other fey would declare it as a sign - unity. His eyes stayed on Makura, stilling themselves so that the topaz irises could finally take in the light of the river. His mouth remained flat, while his eyes burned like cooling embers.

Something as trivial as this, would not be an issue to run away from. It was a minor discomfort to Vaet’s personal life. At least there was no political standings in the relation, for Makura was obviously a full fire fey. Politely, he took a step forward. To show uncertain respect, he moved his torso forward in a bow, before standing up fully. “Indeed, that is correct.”

As if the bow was not enough, the warrior lifted his right hand up, extending his greeting and welcome. “Vaet Qou,” he said lightly, aware that the man in front of him would have known his father better than his mother, but that did not mean Makura would get lost in the descendants. As he waited, his eyes continued to look upon Makura, wanting to see the knot finally tied.

[Makura]

How far disconnected Makura had been from his family, for so very long now... It was easy enough to assume that his aunt and uncle would have a child of their own, and that even that child would have had a child as well. Disconnected as he had been, however, he had never met this cousin of his, parent of the Warrior that stood before him. Were they even still alive, he wondered? It was of little consequence in the end, just as inconsequential really as the deaths of his aunt and uncle had been.

Perhaps it was the distant call that drove him, the fact that this boy was a Warrior, or perhaps something else. Perhaps it was the flame that lured him to lift the veil, and as Vaet stepped forward and leaned into a bow, his eyelids fell slightly, smoldering irises only half visible for a moment.

The extended hand in greeting brought forth an almost amused sound, though quiet, and as he returned the gesture he thought, bemused, that it were as though he was being welcomed back into the family by the son of his unknown cousin. Female cousin, he assumed, seeing as Vaet did not share his aunt's name (Qou must have been the father's name).

There was little mystery in his given name, one he had not used in nearly two centuries, but as they were on the subject of family and his aunt, it would have been silly to use any other, despite how well known (or not) it was.

"MaXuan Zai Ranshao," was a simple response, but a very telling one, a very revealing one, and though the upturn of his lips was not gone, it was much slighter than it had been previously. "Though, quite honestly, simply Makura is just as fine a substitute."

To an extent, he was almost upset to have the mystery gone out of it so soon.