Cas couldn't help but raise a brow as the other passed him. He squinted a little at the new found sunlight, leaning against a tree nearby as he watched the assassin call for the bird then climb onto his arm. The prince peeled himself off the tree to tread towards Hylas and the bird, "I take it you have a skill for attracting animals? Or is this a newfound thing?" He asked. Cas came to a stop beside the other male, tilting his head up at him for a moment before he returned his eyes to the bird on his arm, "Think you could train it to deliver the message to the king? Would probably be safer then a messenger." It would be a lot safer. He knew it wasn't a possibility, knew they would have to trust that someone could get the message to his father without the information getting out to the general population, to other kingdoms. To Zaros himself. They didn't have any other options at this point, much to Cas' dismay. Usually he would have other people to talk to, more people than just him and his assassin. It was a hard situation to be in, for the both of them. But looking at the bird, at how innocent and free it was, Cas hoped that maybe one day everyone could be like that raven. A hard goal and hope that probably wouldn't happen in his time, but maybe one that could potentially happen some day.
Hylas glanced at Cas as he made his way over, almost smiling as he shook his head. "I'm afraid not. This raven here has been by my side for years," He said, combing a gentle hand over its sleek feathers and recalling the first days of the whispers and far rumours of him— a killer who left behind black feathers as a sign of his visit. What began as a simple signature for clients had become an identity for him: one that he quickly embraced and fought to protect. 'The Raven; the coldest of all men. So silent in the night, not even light from the moon could bear witness to his work in the shadows. So willing to spill blood, with fervent gloves of stained crimson.' Hylas glanced worriedly at Cas in a fleeting look, suddenly wondering if he had put two and two together. If he doesn't catch on, how shall I tell him? Hylas asked himself, afraid of the coldness and shock that Cas would express. Should I tell him? "…That is what I've trained him to do," He said, tearing his gaze away from Cas, wishing to spare himself the sight of the prince's understanding, "For…clients and contracts, you understand. I can't— couldn't risk a meeting. And yes, as you've said, it's safer." Ravens were much smarter than any other common messenger bird, and Hylas couldn't trust a person to travel over land and sea carrying such sensitive information. He had befriended the thing as a young man, feeding it seeds and crumbs; taking care of it before it could even fly. Before, he had taken to killing any animal he saw for food, but as he saw that chick fighting to make its way out of its fallen nest, he felt a profound sense of equivalence. Here was Hylas, alone and fighting to keep himself alive. And here was the raven, the Raven, twitching away from the rest of his motionless family, out into the cold, sweeping world.
"Usually they're hunted for sport, like most other birds are." Cas crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the bird with a studying eye. It was then that it hit him. A raven. He knew the stories, knew to watch out the The Raven as soon as he became a well known assassin. Knew that one day someone would send him after his family or him or some other political figure in his court. It hadn't hit him until then. Maybe because the compassion that Hylas had shown thus far went against anything he knew about the assassin. All the stories about the man who never left a witness, never failed a job. Always completed what he was set out to do. Merciless. Deadly. With no care about other human life, who he was killing. As silent as the Gods were. No one had ever made it out alive from what he knew. He was, to his knowledge, the only person to ever be spared by this man. The ruthless killer so quick to kill. The man that was now helping him save his kingdom and so many others, "You-" The prince couldn't even get the words out. Hylas was The Raven, no doubt about that. He couldn't help but take a step backwards. He hadn't trusted the man to begin with but now he really didn't trust him. What were the chances he was still working with this Zaros? That it was all some big ploy to learn his plans and then kill him? If so he was a very good actor he'd give Hylas that but the realization hit like a tidal wave. How could The Raven help a prince? There was a large price on Hylas' head. The biggest. To bring him in, to save so many lives if they were to survive this war… Cas pushed those thoughts away. There were bigger problems, more pressing matters then bringing in The Raven.
Hylas' gaze followed Cas as he took a step back, wearing a gentle but anxious look. So he did understand. And of course, he was quietly horrified. He had a right to be. A part of Hylas had wished they'd gone longer without bearing such a silent confession, but he knew that keeping this from Cas would only drive him further away. And at this thought, he almost frowned. Why did he care if the prince came to hate him? The only thing between them was their will to save the continent, and perhaps those fleeting looks between the words they spoke. Those looks that he ached to hold, all while tearing his care away. But why did Cas's reaction prompt such concern from Hylas? There was shame, guilt, and so much of this hopeful dread he had carried since meeting Cas. Wishing for words of amnesty, and fearing the judgement held in the green eyes of the prince; he could hardly bear to meet such a gaze. "Yes," He finally said, standing still in the dusty sunbeams that poured through the foliage, "I am." It was all he could think to say, with clouded thoughts of the man before him. The raven perched on his forearm glanced idly around the greenery, the only thing keeping the moment from feeling like a delicate nightmare soon to be forgotten. Hylas knew the look on Cas's face would be one he would always remember; the gently raised and hesitant turn of his expression was filled with betrayal as Hylas waited for him to move; to speak, or run, or to even strike him if his anger was stirred. Every shift and movement was taken into thought; the soft twitch of a frown, the nervous withdraw of his posture as he faced him. He had spent years watching people shift their feelings into expressions and further into actions, and though it had bled into his hypervigilance, it was still hard for him to understand how a normal person would react to such a confession. "Are you…angry?" He quietly asked, still watchful of the prince's movements.
The prince was silent for a moment, simply just looking at the man in front of him. A dry laugh spilled past the prince's lips as he shook his head, more to himself than to Hylas, running his hand through his brown, messing up the unkempt locks further, "Quite frankly I do not know how I feel." He said, looking away from The Raven and to the sky above. Why couldn't anything be simple these days? Cas bit his lip, turning his head back to Hylas, "I should kill you where you stand, you know?" He said, nodding to the assassin and his silent companion. Should was the key word. He should kill him. Should bring his head or his body back to Eirus, show everyone that finally the man that had terrorized kingdom after kingdom for years was finally gone. They didn't have to live in fear of him anymore. But… He wasn't going to. As much as he didn't want anything to do with Hylas in fear of losing his own life to the man, he needed him. He wouldn't get that latter to his father without him. And his skill set was valuable in this situation. Extremely so. He couldn't just kill him now. And after everything they had spoken about so far, about Hylas wanting to help his continent, to help him take down Zaros. Cas couldn't just forget all that. Killing him now would be too hard. The prince didn't think he could even commit the act. The guilt would be too unbearable. Hylas might have been a killer, but he clearly had at least some morals left in him. If he didn't, Cas wouldn't be standing in the field with the sun blazing down on the both of them contemplating all of this. It was a lot to take in, he wouldn't doubt that, but as he watched the subtle rustle of the raven's wings, the look on Hylas' face and took in that quiet tone he would never had thought would come from an assassin, he couldn't kill him, "But I won't."
Of course he wouldn't kill him. But he might try. It was doubtful; a clouded thing to consider. Even though the prince was without a weapon, Hylas knew he couldn't underestimate the hatred of someone as powerful as a prince. His life was built on the health and safety of people, and Hylas had been the one taking that from him. The Raven killings had seemed like a plague spreading over the continents, and Hylas was forced to take responsibility now. He nodded softly in understanding, biting his lip for a moment. "You should," He said, without thinking. It might've been a righteous sight, though; his execution; something he almost fantasized about. For the faintest moment, he had wondered how things might change if he let him do it; pretending not to notice a hand reaching for his dagger at his side, moving slowly and hardly putting up a fight as the prince dragged the blade across his neck and avenged all who were slaughtered in the very same way. "I mean—" He quickly began, pulling his thoughts away from what the prince should've been planning at that moment, "I'm sorry." Reading the expression on his face, he knew that wasn't perhaps the thing he wanted to hear. Perhaps I shouldn't have spoken at all, he thought, though slowly recalled the folk tale he overheard once as a child; of a knight too fearful of his own outspoken confession. "Is it better to speak, or die?" He had chosen to speak, today, stepping out of the silence that seemed to suffocate every waking moment of life since he was a boy. A long moment passed, and the raven on his arm shuffled on its makeshift branch. "I'm…I don't like it either, that's what I'm trying to say. I'm sure you've seen how I'm not good with words, I…" He took a breath, painfully trying to meet Cas's heavy gaze, "I never have been. But I'm sorry— and I'm trying." With a few gentle nods, he spoke with the softest look of worry, leading himself through an unfamiliar river of honesty. "For you. For everything you want from me— or want to know about me, I can at least try to explain."
Explanations from lesser parties didn't win wars. Cas knew they were wasting time standing here, Hylas' guilt radiating off him like some sort of magic-induced plague. If Cas was being honest with himself he didn't care, didn't want to know more about Hylas and perhaps why he does all those heinous acts. A part of him was curious, yes, but he wasn't going to let that cloud his thoughts now. Later, he would discuss more about this predicament later, "We're wasting daylight." He said, tearing his gaze away from the assassin that stood before him, "We have to keep moving or we'll never get to Valthea." There was a bubbling anger in him, a feeling his pushed down, down, down until he had his emotions under control, his expression becoming unreadable as he moved to once again follow the path they were on. "Your kingdom comes first, Caspian," His father had always said, "You must protect your people at any cost." Keeping someone alive when they had committed such crimes against not only his people, but others as well, was playing a game he had no will to play in. However, Zaros was the bigger threat, the more important threat. He'd envisioned the day that The Raven came to justice countless times, after every new murder, planning the ways he would make him pay for what he had done to so many. But when it came down to it, Cas deep down knew he couldn't kill Hylas, even if he tried to convince himself he could. If he had to, yes, out of necessity, yes, but to strike him where he stood right now? No, he wouldn't, couldn't do it. Maybe after this war was over they could straighten things out a different way, perhaps, but in the present moment the prince couldn't let thoughts of revenge and justice, no matter how much he might deserve it, cloud his judgement.
Hylas almost raised his eyebrows at the prince's immediate response. He'd expected an impassioned speech on how vile and horrifying this truth was to him, but instead, he received something like a controlled observation. Very royal of him. Rage gave way to numbness, he'd learned, from watching drunkards go from brawling to weeping in a matter of minutes. And that was the path Cas was going down, it seemed. He just hoped it wouldn't lead to him breaking down, for he'd noticed the feverish glances from beneath his mask at the ball and then at the safehouse, and then especially when they ran into the bandits back up on the main path. Anger turned into something fearful for the prince, Hylas was beginning to realize. "…Yes. We should…keep heading south." His words stumbled in tone, just coming off of his reclusive statement. His attention was brought to his raven and he brought his arm closer to his collarbone, letting the bird move onto his shoulder as he followed after Cas. He could tell just from his posture that there was a heavy conflict within him; those tense shoulders straining to correct themselves into an attitude of confidence. But what he didn't know was what people typically wanted— or needed, in moments like this. Would it help if he went along with what felt like small talk? Should they speak at all? Should Hylas be the one to say something else? It was vexing. He had hardly ever considered the current feelings of someone, or rather, someone whose life wasn't about to be ended, and heavily wondered if so much thought was normal for a stranger. After a few beats of silence and their crunching footsteps, he spoke, "We'll make it to the border a little after sundown, at which time we should stop for the night."
Cas nodded silently. He didn't quite know what to say anymore. This new realisation shouldn't have changed his view on Hylas as much as it had. Raven or not he was still an assassin and therefor guilty of murder no matter what. But the serious of his crimes was put into perspective with the newfound knowledge of his true identity. He new it was obvious there was a mini war raging inside him, knew that Hylas could probably tell, after all he had to know when a person shifted in stance or emotion, it was part of his job. Masking his emotions had never been a challenge among idiots. But Hylas was no idiot, and even though he tried his best, it was clear how he was truly feeling. Personal feelings aside they had a job to do, they were stuck with each other for the time being since Cas had no intention of striking Hylas down in the present moment. He released a sigh through his nose, scanning the surrounding area as they walked. The sun was nearing midday by now, they were lucky to have set off when they did with all their current set backs. Making it to the border wouldn't be difficult. There were far enough away from the main road by now to be hidden from any prying eyes. There was a slim chance of hunters, the forest becoming far too dense to hunt easily and swiftly by now. A blessing, Cas supposed. Side-eyeing Hylas, he spoke again, "Do you know of any safe shelter out here? A cave or something similar?"
Hylas let out a thoughtful sigh, casting a long glance up and around them as they walked through the trees. They were still headed south, but a little further west were the mountains that fathered nearly all the springs and rivers through Valthea. "The further south we go, the warmer it'll get," Hylas stated, choosing to focus on orientating them and hoping to move past the quiet tension between them, "It hardly ever gets cold in Valthea; save for the solstice rain in summer and what we call our winter; more rain." He took another look up above them, squinting up at the bright blue canopy of sky peeking through breaks in the foliage, cloudless and clear. "It doesn't seem like rain is going to be a problem for us, though; there are hardly any clouds. And these woods are fairly clear of creatures." He'd learned this many years ago, moving across the land with hardly two knives to protect himself with. He was trying to determine the safest and quietest place to settle, once he stopped working; somewhere far from the people and beasts that threatened him. "But the mountains—" Hylas said, nodding at the distant outlines of cloudy peaks, "The mountains taper off roughly in these parts, and there are quite a few hollows and incurves." Another sigh. But how could I forget? He hardly ever took the southwest route. "But…if we do head that way, we may have to pass through a village to get to the safehouse." Crowen; the smallest town in the Valthean countryside, Hylas figured. As much as he hated passing through the same place more than once, there was a quiet fondness he held for the place. The lone bakery with its crooked chimney, the blacksmith who sharpened his blades for free, the wide, dusty path that no traveller had bothered to walk down. But most of all, he was fond of the children— some living together without homes —who knew him as 'the sir' who always had coins to spare. "—It's small. Terribly small. And quiet. I don't suppose news has reached them; news hardly does. And not a soul would recognize you, even if they heard."
Cas nodded along as Hylas spoke of the town and the mountains in the distance. Time wasn't on their side and Cas knew little about the area they were currently in. He didn't know the side paths or hideaways like Hylas did. Right now, he was relying on him to get them to shelter for the night and then to the safe house. However Cas knew they maybe traveling through Crowen would be a good idea. If no one was going to recognize him, they could stop for food if they had anywhere they could get food from. They didn't have any other forms of sustenance on them, and Cas didn't know if Hylas had any at his safe house. He presumed he did, but right now he had every right to not trust him. At least he would know where the food from Crowen came from, "You know these parts better than I," He replied, "Which route would be faster? Going through or avoiding Crowen?" It was vital they made up the time they had lost talking about themselves on the side of the road and discussing the other's identity. Time, it seemed, had never been a friend of his. The prince seemed to always be running out of time. Not enough time with his family before they were killed. Not enough time preparing to be king. Not enough time to get this message to his father. Not enough time- he calmed those thoughts. It seemed the past years of worries were catching up on him. And this newfound stress of a war larger than anything he or even the continent had ever seen before was the catalyst. Traveling with the most wanted assassin was the cherry on top of the situation. Cas will his brain to remember his training. Clear the worries, one problem at a time, people first, yourself second.
Hylas softly frowned as he considered their options. The raven on his shoulder shuffled, peering out into the trees and foliage as they walked. Sleep out in the open, find our way through the woods, then to the fields. Or, head closer to the mountains and follow the river into the rolling hills. "It's not just about time, I suppose," Hylas said, stepping over a fallen tree, "We have to consider the few peripheral risks involved." In that very moment, he sorted through all the problems they might run into, in his mind; as was his habit with overthinking. He thought of it more as being observant and reactive, though truly it came from a place of panicked decision-making. Of course he had to learn to improvise plans and analyze these situations; his very survival was built upon his will to go on, and any potential failures within his reputation had been saved by it. "If we stay heading south and camp in the forest, there won't be much comfort in it for us, and there's the small risk of running into something hostile," He stated, sighing as he remembered the night he barely escaped a struggle against something sharp and feverish in the dark. Nothing is more terrifying than a presence you feel, but can't see. "—It may be more direct, but we also run the risk of getting lost, as no paths lead to the fields and the safehouse." Perfect, secluded, warm, and silent, the abandoned monastery past the hills of Crowen was perhaps the closest thing Hylas had to a home, and now as they spoke of ways to get there, he felt the quiet ache of exhaustion whispering to him memories of the comforts he held in the heavy clouds and sunlight of those unnamed fields. "And so, I would argue that we go southwest. The caves are small but good enough. It's still warm, and we can follow the sound of the rivers closer into town. I know that route better, and hardly anyone strays that far from the main path leading to the first real town; further southeast of where we're passing through. Crowen receives no travellers or merchants; it's rare that goods from Eirus or other parts of Valthea make it there."
It made sense, Cas supposed, to head southwest as Hylas said. If their were caves, albeit small as the other said, it didn't matter. It was some form of shelter for the night. He didn't expect it to rain, nor get very cold over night so the caves would be better than staying on the road, "We'll head southwest then." He replied, "We can also stop into Crowen on the way through for supplies." They needed parchment and ink and food. And Cas wouldn't mind finding some sort of a weapon while they were there. The chances were small, and he doubted Hylas would let him carry anything now that he knew who the other was. He also knew that writing this letter was going to take a few tries. With his mind in a hundred different directions the prince knew it was going to be hard to condense his thoughts into one concise and clear letter. It had never been a strong suit of his, even if as he grew older his skills had improved but when it came to important issues, proclamations, it took him days to write down his thoughts clear enough to read out loud. Procrastination was a serious problem for him. But there was no time to put off writing the letter. Maybe by the time they reached the safe house tomorrow and he had had a night to think about what to really do, it would be easier for him. Getting the letter to his father was a different issue. He knew that Hylas' raven would do the job, but he didn't trust either of them. He could tell that the assassin had trained his companion well, but with who he actually was, Cas didn't know if he wanted to risk the letter falling into the wrong hands, someone Hylas might have worked with before or might even have connections with Zaros himself, "If we were to get lost we'd be having more issues then we already are. Let's try and avoid that at any cost."
Hylas nodded, beginning to consider things they would do well to purchase in town as they continued through the woods. He had a fair amount of money on him, and goods were inexpensive in Crowen. "Yes, we'll need provisions, I suppose." He said, thinking back to his safehouse; of the supplies he stored there and things they could do without. "There are crops, where we're headed," Hylas said, wearing the faintest of smiles and raising his shoulders in a quiet shrug. Though it wasn't a home, he still took care of the place, mending windows and caring for the grounds of his secretive sanctuary. His came to gaze wander over the landscape, as it so often did while he was in a reverie, and he continued, "—It's a humble garden; small and terribly overgrown, but well enough to feed the two of us." Hylas almost sighed at the thought of it; for most of the year, the fields surrounding would be sun-drenched and golden, with soft winds seeping into the courtyard and through the plush grass, where he so often fell asleep. The vegetable garden there was spread out around the warm brick ruins, with beanstalks and flowered vines tangling around broken statues and root vegetables growing in crooked lines over uneven ground. "A few animals roam about, too. And the woods are filled with game. I'm sure you understand— I've worried enough about going hungry to keep myself well supplied." A quiet show of his paranoia, this was. After his early years of hunger and heavy uncertainty, there had come a feverish need to spread out not just his money, but any other potential supplies. Everything that he saw as necessary for his survival— finances, food, weapons, shelter, — was thoroughly scattered across the continents, noted by landmarks only he knew of, hidden in places only he could find. This safehouse was almost an exception; for there was likely to be a record of the building, however forgotten. "But…yes. We will likely need to make a few stops. Is there anything specific you have in mind?"
(Heya, sorry for disappearing for a good while there. School kinda said fuck you and i just haven't had time or energy to come on. Should be more active again now)
Cas bit as his bottom lip gently. Even though Hylas hid his fear well, years of working with deceiving noblemen and women made it easy for him to see the small hint of paranoia that laced his words. He nearly took pity on him, if only for a moment. He'd never know the hardships and difficulties some of the peoples on Mavadora faced, especially those who had resorted in crimes so drastic. Cas has only ever known a life of luxury filled with too much food and too much wine and too much of everything. He knew he would be forever grateful for the life he had if they survived the upcoming months. Looking back to Hylas, he scratched at the back of his neck, "Well, we'll need ink and parchment if we want this letter to be written as soon as possible." He said. He paused for a moment, contemplating whether to actually ask for the weapon or not. Cas would need one eventually. Hand to hand combat with nothing but your fists against an army of magic users would have him dead within moments. He wouldn't last on the battle field for more than five minutes if that, "I'll need a weapon at some point, too. Doesn't have to be a good one, just one that can keep me alive if- when it comes to that." Glancing to Hylas for a brief moment, the prince wondered if the assassin would say no. If he would prevent Cas from having any sort of weapon until the last moment. Trust was something they couldn't afford in the present moment, neither of them could let their guard down. Cas could try and take the others life, return to Eirus with his head and prove one enemy dead. But Hylas could do the same. One wrong move after that letter was sent and Hylas could take the reward, leave the continent and never have to worry about anything ever again.
(oh that's okay ! i don't always have the energy to come on here so I get what you mean; don't worry about it. i did plenty of thinking while you were gone :)
Hylas nodded as the prince spoke, reeling in quiet embarrassment over his unremarked tangent of country life. What interest did a prince have in the comforts of a murderous commoner? The only appropriate answer would be none. He may have caught his interest at the ball, but that was under the appearances of fellow nobility and champagne-fueled curiosity. Surely his feelings had changed, now that their differences had been made so apparent. Hylas had no need for writing; he had neither ink, parchment, nor quills at the safehouse, and this letter was their priority. There was a bookshop in Crowen, he recalled; a dusty place, and barely a shack of one hundred volumes, but he knew the owner sold such materials. The branches snapped beneath their steps, and the mention of a weapon made him halt his trek, turning to face Cas and almost flinching at the flurries of thoughts that followed. Acutely aware of the dagger sheathed on his belt and the feather-light knives hidden in his boots, satchel, and sleeves, he saw all the ways Cas would try and kill him, with or without his own weapon. Hylas was faster, and likely stronger than the prince, but he knew better than anyone that a desperate man's reach was lighter and quieter than any creature beneath the Gods. He could see it: the prince's sharp features in the night, like a siren emerging from an ocean of black and moonlight, creeping his hand over Hylas's belt and slipping the carved blade into his steady hand, all before dragging it against his throat in a fluid motion of vengeance. It would be so easy. And with every moment of his attention spent off guard, there would be free moments of opportunity and sudden terror. His dark eyes carried his fear, and slowly, he tore them away from Cas. "Not…right now," Hylas nearly mumbled, recommencing his walking through the pathless forest greenery. The prince was right in the notion of defending himself; he couldn't predict what threats would meet them in the future. And so, there was a blacksmith in town, he knew. Young and skilled, and clever too; he knew not to ask about Hylas' commissions and why he had so many blades that needed sharpening. Still, the pressure of safety and necessity quietly distressed him. "I'll consider it," He added after a long moment.
(oh? Thinking about what?)
For a moment, Cas thought he was about to be struck where he stood. But that fear in Hylas' eyes had been relaxing, if only for a flicker of a moment. A small reassurance that he wasn't going to die before they reached their end goal. Hylas' wasn't an idiot, that was obvious and Cas knew that he would, at some stage, receive the weapon that he was asking for. The prince supposed he would have to wait, for now, and not bring the subject up again until the time was right, "Right, okay." He replied with a small dip of his head, following a step behind the assassin.
The duo continued on their path of green, sticking to the undergrowth and making sure to move away from any sigh of human life. Not that there was much, but occasionally the mud and debris underfoot seemed more worn down then usual. The day had warmed up quite significantly. Even with the shade of the trees blocking out the suns beating rays enough trickled through for the forest to grow hot. It wasn't all bad, Cas knew. Birds of all kinds fluttered around, rabbits and other small creatures skittered below their feet and, in any other circumstance, the prince would have found the walk calming, peaceful. But the thick silence that lay over the prince and his assassin dampened the mood ten fold. Cas didn't say a word, either too scared to do so and piss the other off or lost in his own trail of thought that, even if Hylas did speak to him, Cas probably wouldn't hear. He'd run though the letter he was going to write too many times, making slight changes every time before ultimately giving up and trying again. It was in times like these where he missed his brothers. They'd always been the ones to engage in this sort of thing, trained from birth, too. He shook those thoughts off before they consumed him and he really couldn't write the letter.
(oh just stuff relating to the storyline; like how cas will probably have to lie to others about who hylas really is, when/what Cas will find interesting/attractive about hylas, how long the war will last, etc etc)
Slowly, his worries seemed to fall away as they walked in silence, his mind quietly bewlidered at the sensation of a companion walking alongside him; another set of sounds and movements so close. It was strange and new, and Hylas couldn't help the fleeting looks that he prayed were unnoticed. He had never been in the company of someone for so long. Even when he got desperate enough to visit a house of maids, the fear of being remembered kept him from staying any longer than a few hours. But now he was slowly realizing that the prince would be in his company for days, weeks, or perhaps even months; he would be the first to know his face, and he didn't understand if this feeling he had was of fear or excitement. "I…take it you've been raised to fight with a longsword?" Hylas cautiously asked, hoping to seem casual enough. Really, he was considering the weapon he'd asked for; as he reckoned that Cas couldn't do much with his throwing knives. The knights of Eirus all handled blades of white steel; shortswords, longswords, and broadswords. He'd seen them everytime he passed through the country, wondering how he'd fare against them. The war had made soldiers out of so many, and knowing that the prince, too, had fought reminded him that Cas had lived through battles upon a blood-soaked warground. Perhaps he didn't carry those memories with such a heaviness as others did, but Hylas knew that sooner or later he'd need a blade in his hands. "They aren't as common in Valthea," He said, peering out at the far mountains through the thick foliage. The raven on his shoulder had grown bored of their walking, and took off in a great leap of black feathers, flitting up into the trees. "And you could never find a smith with enough white steel. A war here would be difficult to provide for."
(Fair fair)
"War is difficult to provide for as is." Cas mumbled, more to himself then to Hylas. Memories of the last war come flooding back. Even when he'd trained as a child, the prince had never thought he'd see the likes of war, even less so the front lines of battle. Training with the Captain's guard seemed like a useless activity to him rather than a necessity but after his first battle he'd never been more grateful. He was good with a long sword, always had been, and his own was currently sitting at the end of his bed in its sheath waiting for some maid to come along and polish the gold and blue handle. Aeron and Arin's swords sat in a room far below the castles main chambers with his mothers bow, cased in glass to protect them from any unwanted hands. Cas hadn't seen nor touched them since the war had ended, neither had his father. They'd both never fully recovered from the loss of their family, even though both hid it well, and Cas knew seeing those weapons again would be the final tether snapping that kept his sanity together. He'd vowed the day the war ended never to pick up or touch a weapon like that again. Never wanting to feel blood on his hands or in his hair or on his body ever again. Now he knew that vow had been foolish. He was a prince for gods sake. He was going to have to battle and kill at some point again, even if he didn't want to. That vow was about to be broken any day, and Cas wasn't truly prepared for it, "Longsword is what I'm best at, yes." He replied, glancing to Hylas for a split second, "I'm okay with a bow, but probably not very good on a battle field." Archery grounds were completely different, "I've never really seen long swords of white steel outside of Eirus. I wouldn't anywhere apart from Eirus and Kienheim to have them, but even then their difficult to find up North." Kienheim was one of the major northern kingdoms, known for the most beautiful weaponry - more for display then for battle, however. Even up their white steel was hard to come by, and they mined anything and everything they could find.
"Hmm," Hylas said with a thoughtful nod, glancing up at the sky to see how many hours of light there was left. They had a late start, and as warm and bright as it was, the early afternoon was slowly dying. "I saw a beautiful sword of white steel, once," He began, softly forgetting their past tension as his attention drifted to a memory. Slowly, the corners of his mouth curved into the faintest of smiles. "Across the Sea of Knives; all the way in Ozmor. A gorgeous thing, it hung in the High General's study." A contract from his brother; ensuring his nephew's death at an early hour. He could still remember how the softened blue of the morning fell into the cool air of the room, and how the sword almost seemed to glow in a certain view. "All curves and delicate angles, I wanted to reach out and feel the weight of it in my hands," He all but whispered, gently flexing his hands at the thought of its balance. A sword was never a consideration for him; it would draw too much attention, and he had no need for a weapon of savage duelling. The blades had to be small; easy to hide under a cloak, and cheap enough to replace should he lose them. But he knew there was an ache in him; a yearning in his hands that called for a long and heavy blade to wield. His gaze was somewhere far away, missing its usual weight of worry. Though the memory of the sword was quiet; so were the bloody moments that followed. Scaling the tower had been a challenge, but those were his earlier days of esteem. It had been an easy enough job; the High General's eldest son snuck in just as he was told; to steal his father's letter to the king. One that would name the general's youngest son as his successor. And he didn't scream; didn't even see Hylas. But he sensed him, he saw it through the sudden flinch of the man's shoulders when he noticed the open window, and those same shoulders sank as he fell limp to the ground; twitching as his blood soaked through the letter he held. "It…It reminded me of this old Valthean legend. Do you know it?" Hylas asked, turning to Cas with a look of quiet curiosity, "The sword of riverglass?"
The prince tilted his head ever so slightly, intrigued as he listened to Hylas talk. Strange to see the man who thus far seemed on edge every waking moment seem almost distant as he walked and talked. Cas wondered what was going on in that complex mind of his. Whether the thought of long, dueling battle swords filled him with electric wonder or unease. From Hylas' stance and far away eyes, Cas knew it was the former. Maybe that was something they shared. The love for delicately made weaponry. To long for those swords that had a perfect balance. Light weighted, beautifully made, and deadly enough to kill anyone with one swing. His own sword was just that. One of a kind, too. The white steel always shone in the early morning light that passed through the windows in his chambers. The handle made of fine, strong gold with patterns of vines that wrapped around the bottom of the blade. A snakes head was positioned at the end with eyes of sparkling lapis. It truly was striking blade, in looks and also in use. But none could ever come close to the sword mentioned in that Valthean legend. Cas had heard the strong when passing through, years and years ago when he was a mere child. His family had stopped in one of the smaller kingdoms and during their stay, one of the court members had spoken of the sword of riverglass. A blade supposedly blessed and created by the Gods themselves for only the purest of mortal men. That tale had kept him from skipping his training. To use a sword that held such power and grace would be a blessing to anyone. Cas had searched through old books and tales and folklore and other legends, combing through to see if the possibility of such a sword could be true. Not that he found any knew information, any trial or sign that might prove of the swords existence but he never truly lost hope, "I have, yes." He said, meeting the others curious gaze with a soft one of his own, "A long time ago, but I've never forgotten it."
Hylas felt himself smile at that, turning his gaze to the ground in his shy realization. The prince was listening to him; and speaking in reply. It was quietly exhillarating, to say the least; he had veered away from even the simplest of conversations in all his travels; hardly even asking for directions. Every sensation seemed to surprise him, the longer they spoke and walked together; the shuffling and snapping of twigs beneath his steps, and the speaking, the speaking. His pupils were just about blown. "I'd say it's very hard to forget," Hylas softly replied, recalling…some voice, his mother's voice? The first and only time he was told the tale of the poor shepherdboy who wielded the fabled sword of Valthea. "Reaching into a river and lifting off the reflecting light on the water— the moonglade, as a sword…" He let out the quietest laugh, and sighed as he thought of all the time he spent as a child looking at his reflection in the river. He would come home with his clothes soaked from the playing in the stream; trying to texplain how he was trying to get the riversword, because I did see it, mother, I did! "Children aren't the only ones that dream of such a wonder. Most knights and noblemen make their appointed journey along the rivers across the land as a lighthearted— almost playful tradition. So they say." The story held a great symbolization for the men of the kingdom; the all-embracing humility of the shepherd's simple beginnings and heaveanward admiration bestowed upon him in the form of a sword. The insatiable need to serve a self-fulfilled purpose was the very thread of the story's woven tapestry, and the kingdom's values held to it tightly. "It's so interesting, to me, knowing how the kingdom treasures a folk tale as simply known as this," Hylas said after a moment of silence, forgetting he was talking to Cas before turning back to him, that's what I'm meant to do, right? Look at him in his eyes. Scarily green eyes. Like these woods— Have I stared too long? I'll look away. "Does Eirus have such a story?"
Cas could barely take his eyes off the other man as he spoke of the tale, whisked away almost in awe of how that tale touched Hylas. It was almost.. sweet, if an assassin could ever be sweet, "Maybe not a story about a sword.." He started, turning his gaze into the woods beside them, "But there is one. The Maelin and the crown of starlight." It was an old story, one that had been passed down through the peoples and the royals of Eirus since the kingdom was founded years and years ago. Of the ancient peoples that lived deep within the forests boarding the south of the kingdom and the crown forged with the stars themselves. In some tellings of the story, the Maelin were Gods themselves, others said they were only blessed by them. Either way they held an old and deadly power, guarding that crown till the true heir of Starlight found them, found the crown and was strong enough to possess the power that it held. Oh the days were Cas and his brothers would lie in the garden and talk about that crown. Joke about how they would find the Maelin, prove themselves worthy and wield the greatest power Eirus had ever known. They'd gone searching once. Went deep into the woods to see if they could spot them, but nothing ever came of it. Cas knew it was just a tale, but that part of him that believed it was true longed to find that crown. A smile crept up onto his face as remembered all those times with his bothers, of the tale itself. Of a young prince who pretended he had the crown and the power and saving anyone he could find. He shook his head a little at the thought, turning his gaze away from the forest and to the floor, before back to Hylas once more, "It's an old tale of the people of Eirus. The Maelin are supposed to reside in the forests with a crown made from the stars, supposedly holding power only the true heir of Starlight can connect with and use."
"A crown of Starlight?" Hylas prompted with a quiet smile, pushing through the overgrown tallgrass and stepping over fallen branches. He had never heard of such a thing, and anything that had to do with stars, he wanted to know, and likely already did. All the constellations under every continent, and just about every story that went along with them, he could recall without hesitation. He hummed absentmindedly for a moment, looking up and to the side in thought, letting himself get lost in the ideas of what such a crown might look like. Bright gold? Perhaps silver. White silver? Or— made entirely of light-catching gems and crystals. Or something like a pulsing halo of light and white heat. And how beautiful that might be, gracing the unkempt locks of knight, or nobleman, or… Hylas thought to himself, suddenly shy at the musing of Cas in such an ethereal quality. "Oh— and, hmm," He started again, not realizing the silence that he had left between them. Was it really this hard for everyone else to keep up with a conversation? Already, he was getting overwhelmed, and it was a strange, yet natural-feeling thing that excited him. "I've never heard of it. But it's terribly interesting. The true heir of Starlight." Now to gather his thoughts, taking a short breath and remembering to make eye contact. He had forgotten all the previous troubles of the last few days, almost letting himself relax in his flowing course of thinking and speaking and walking through beams of gentle sunlight and warm winds. "But I would say…we're all the heirs of starlight. At least according to the great astronomers of old, "Hylas said with an air of uncertainty, letting his hand brush against the curled ferns scattered around the woods, "The stories of the old Gods of Valthea match the principles they wrote of." He softly shrugged, stealing a glance at Cas. Hylas hadn't lied at the ball; he really did hold this knowledge dear to him. "—To put it simply; how mortals were created in the great blaze of dying star, between the Gods hiding behind the sun and the moon."
(oh my god andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer) did this prank again. its hilarious)
