In matters of anatomy Alilaih was considered cryptic, in matters of character she was confused for something heavenly. Being a foundling, even of kinder visage, it was considered good manners to save her life, it was not so cruel to be raised by wolves after all. As the chosen child of the shepherd, she’s not known a day since the age of five when the weight of society was not upon her shoulders.
For he as an ageless being had chosen to raise her, in much the same way he’d chosen to advise the royals of those founding days of the empire, and to test the wills of those who wrote its laws.
And yet the first time she’d felt anything but chafing at that regard was with Mayetwain.
So when Mayetwain asked for the Maylok, to have Alilaih as her partner, to preside over her biology. It was a rather merciless surprise that her father approved, even after her rather silly response to the smaller girl’s request.
She’d actually taken to her knees just to hold her hands. It was the heaviest of responsibilities, atop an already long list of expectations, yet it was the easiest to say yes to. To request it back.
It would dignify them both as adults in regards to legal responsibility, and given their auspicious positions, and excessive education, if it wasn’t a good match it was at least a considered and expected one.
As such they were tested verbally, by standard script and their histories given, they were given their allotted time apart from society. Their survival would prove their readiness to become adults, even in lieu of the usual number of years. A right protected by the so called Caden-Parsimony, which was a legal extension to marital rights based on stricter Tarbiya and more classically barbaric So-neith principles.
Marriage like anything else required a tested mind, but a good society was one where anyone within could be expected to bear that burden. Alilaih being a year young of expectation and Mayetwain a greater four years young were not barred from those tests, even if their parents each would personally find their impatience disqualifying. Which was why her father saying, “Just wait until this year’s first rain.” was such a strange appeal. Simavirta consenting after was more expected though.
So on first spring rain they went out into the wilds of Wifrun, and set camp with what little they’d brought along. To pack lightly was preferred when bearing limited means of self-protection, and since those were always limited between two such as them, it would be the harshest test of their lives. And yet she was no less certain of their survival than of Mayetwain’s utter liberty of choice.
She was a pretty, clever, Feliform after all, and while her desire to become an adult as early as possible was no secret, the fact that she’d wanted Alilaih specifically for that role had been a shock.
Though she’s certain her plans for the Garredov would be no less surprising, given that some might argue her whole life had been one with who her father was, it still sounded like the best use of her time on this planet.
They walked through the tried paths in Wifrun with little trouble, though Mayetwain was certainly capable of taking to the trees; she opted not to do so so early on their trek as it apparently seemed unfair. Alilaih was rather certain that she would do so anyway once she became bored on their walk.
After a while they found a waterway, a river near the settled path that they could follow next, it was better to be near water during their season after all. At some time covered by the rush of water Mayetwain slipped up a tree, looking up she saw the pert flick of her tail and her keeping pace amongst the branches. It seemed ill-balanced considering what they each had with them, but she seemed happy as they went.
Their first night was had by the lake the river fed, covered over by materials they’d collected from the area, everything they currently owned tied far above them. Mayetwain curled up besides her beneath the moon.
The next day they had jerky and tea for breakfast before deciding on what next to do. There were recommendations of course, as to what couples should do on their outing, but it was a bit early for most of it.
“I’m gonna go swimming!”, Mayatwain said, before promptly stripping and packing what she had been wearing into her over-shirt in a classic fold and dropping it where they’d been sleeping. The things she would do not to deal with a mess later.
There is a splash, then a small tortured screech because despite passing her situationals when she was seven, Mayetwain still kinda hated water, or at least acted like she did.
Alilaih watched Mayetwain swim for a while.
She might act like she hates it, but she was a strong swimmer, so once acclimated she was more like a fish than the Feliform, or Mage from which she hailed. To think she’d once imagined her as someone else’s familiar.
She dips beneath the water breath held and Alilaih picks herself up to see that she was safe, before she pops up at the rocky edge of the lake. Looking up at her, before turning away in deference. In that way all beastfolk tended towards.
“There are fish down here. Nibbling at my toes.”
She doesn’t make to pull herself from the water, and by the tilt of her head she seemed to want her to join. When Alilaih doesn’t take the hint she dives and comes up with a stick, which she then threw at Alilaih.
Alilaih followed after and as it turns out, it was not too early. As time goes on their wandering seems mostly as play, but they still leave their first camp with little fanfare by the end of the second week, having used up what dry things they took, swapping the flesh of farmed animals for that of fish. Technically they could stay in one place for the whole month, or going forwards the whole season, but there was no such thing as a perfectly safe place in these woods, and truly, what was the point if they did not explore?
That and Mayetwain had started to act nervous, which seemed like good enough reason to leave even if she hadn’t really noticed herown shift in behavior.
They take to the path Mayetwain chooses this time, and as they go she seems to level out, and even restart her flirtations, which seemed premature given the switch from nervous to leading. Instead of following through directly Alilaih thinks it through. Whatever Mayetwain is sensing is familiar enough that she’s not noticing, and since she’s wanting, “What are you feeling right now?”
“You.” She says, hand fiddling with her shirt. Very literal, she thinks. But then there's a flash in her lover’s eyes, and they’re seeing the same vision, not truly, Alilaih is not so inclined she thinks, and she feels her back against a tree as Mayetwain scrabbles up only to yell down, “Track me.” and suddenly.
Mayetwain is gone from her vision, lost amongst the trees following the twinge in her senses which apparently was all her.
Alilaih follows after, plodding and careful, Mayetwain has only to fear dead wood on her climb, erstwhile she must tread uneven rooty ground. Yet she’s certain of where she follows, and of the pulse it now represents. Her skin is live wood she clambers, her touch as certain as her heartbeat. This is not a normal feeling.
Until the center is unraveled, her heart as usual in Mayetwain’s hands, and Alilaih bolts surefooted, knowing just where her love lay waiting for her. She weaves where need be on instinct and finds her love in a clearing, deep in the forest where once was broken trees grown round a metal hovel, Mayetwain lays out awaiting her presence, in her hands a necklace.
She’s trying to look at it, an arm span away in perfect clarity, any closer and it would blur, but she sees with her heart also, “This feels just like you.” she says, pulling it closer to her body. To herown heart.
Its distance from the ground, small enough at Mayetwain’s height, but still enough to separate it from the trees she’d apparently been feeling through. It’s no misunderstanding what the Feliform feels, as Alilaih moves closer to her.
Side by side again. Looking away from each other, into the forest filled with eyes obscured by this oddity. And then she asks, “Was this yours?”
“I don’t know.” She says earnestly, she doesn’t know anything except her lover’s senses, and where the forest itself seemed to enmesh with her. “You weren’t feeling anything else, were you?”
Mayetwain shivers, trapped by her side knowing only Alilaih’s comfort, and yet now certain that they are being watched. She fiddles with the clasp, a strange point at each end, “There. It’s loose.”
Alilaih takes it from her hand, the forest is no longer an extension of her, and Mayetwain’s eyes go wide, before everything goes black…
She wakes in the light, far from shaded trees, voices filled with wrath, someone kicks her in the stomach and she suddenly wide awake. Her arms are tied behind her, the day is broad and bright, and there are soldiers, wannabes she hopes, as she hears Mayetwain’s screech and she is bolt upright bowling the figure who’d caused it over.
It’s all she can do, and the fools together pull her down, push her down to the dirt. And Mayetwain is breathing so it’s alright, she can kill them later.
“Do you know why you’re here now?”
“You were following us.”
“Do you know what you were doing to that Kit?” She feels the weight of him on her back, heavy but it’s nothing at her stature, “There’s four years between you. Kinder-fok.” and he questions without purpose, she wants to ask ‘Do you prefer the Tarbiya, or the So-neith? ‘Cause you seem awful willing to torture a girl you claim is best kept a child.
She can feel her love, ragged and frightened, and she’s not sure she’ll live, before a bright light clashes with the weight on her back.
Magic.
Elemental.
Crap.
She keeps her head down trying to catch her breath, and she sees the necklace, and its little stone, and someone cuts her binds, which frees her up to catch it. A fight has broken out, and there’s more men than she expects surrounding them in the brawl, but if there’s any place where she would clash it would be on this sandy stone under light.
She holds the necklace center and wraps it round her wrist, as she tries to hold onto that guiding sense which Mayetwain trapesed over to find this something like a heart in her hand, the interlopers make no motion to stop her, as she crawls over to Mayetwain, so tiny now, and kisses her knowing full well what a Mage does by instinct.
Pooling power she’d not known she had, the Feliform pulls her down, claws sharp for her back and neck as that unfair luck shines through. “She’s got the amulet!”, someone amongst the interlopers screams, and she finally looks up from her loves half-terrorised purring.
“I suppose” she says, and a laughing relief rumbles through her with the pur. As she pushes away to look around.
“Well, this isn’t the forest.”
“It really isn’t dear.”
“You’re big now.”
“I’m always big.”
“Your necklace.” she asked without inflection, and Alilaih presented it to her, in her hands it was starkly different now. She had actually grown in those moments, while Mayetwain remained small. Eight years and she’s always been smaller than Alilaih, even before this strange occurrence she was smaller than her. Less developed. Years behind.
And yet she was competent in every manner necessary. The charm was sandwiched along with her hand held between Mayetwain’s, and she kisses them like whenever they’re offered.
Thankful for every request made by her.
Mayetwain unhooks one of her hands and pulls Alilaih’s face wordlessly into her chest as she stares down the interlopers, keeping watch, while incapacitated by her suddenly much too large lover.
“Forgive our displays.” She says amicably, in those ill-practiced magish tones, “Something mortifying happened today.” Her purring was still chest deep.
Once she was certain Alilaih looked up from her lover's chest, and looked amongst the strangers there. Military fatigues familiar to the beastlands, but it could be surplus, most were tied, those who were not being the interlopers, all with kinder faces searched those downed attackers.
Those tied were an even split of features, carrying the relevant identification would be a bit much to do, were they not honest. They were going to kill them after all.
Mayetwain still purred like her life depended on it, a constant whirring rumble. They tried to keep their faces covered, but it wasn’t like she was apt to recognize them.
A tall man before her asked, “Who is it that we’ve saved from these cruel few?”
“I’d think wearing those you’d know my face already.”
“Safe is the uniform, but I still wouldn’t know you.” The man smiles, so he’s a spy of some incompetent fashion. Great.
She rubs her love’s back, and she agrees to introduce themselves, “Alilaih Opensky and Mayetwain, nature-born of Chariko and Simaverta.”
“Opensky? Don’t tell me the great old Moses had a babe?”, went the Spy, he had certainly, long before adopting Alilaih.
“Opensky? As in Moses Opensky?” asked a woman, revealing her face. Not strictly unknowable, yet familiar.
“Mosis, yes.” it was a minor mispronunciation. It wasn’t too surprising that one of kind visage would think something of it. Like his blood did not seep into the roots here. The woman walked up to her, looked her in the eyes which was in very unbeastial posture asides intimidation.
And suddenly she knew this was not a woman, she was still much a girl even now on enemy soil. Hair dark, cut short, eyes black in shining pain. She can’t be a year older than Alilaih, but she’d bore a rugged life, and she knew her kin.
What rare few illustrations were made in accuracy were clear, and what was her’s was theirs in kind visage. The lost Princess of a deposed Magish Queendom. Fallen long about her seventh year.
“Yours were an enemy of ours, were they not?” She asks, suddenly very sorry for her plight, “It was before my time of course, but they were both from what I’ve read.”
“So it’s already history to you beasts.”
“Why wouldn’t it be? If it weren’t written down it would just be lost.” Mayetwain points out, ear still very much on her chest. “It’s either gravestones, or grave theft ain’t it?”
“It feels good to count amongst my brethren. As my love points out, even a day's passing is numbered.”
The girl pauses at the thought, stricken eyes for a moment seeming concerned. Before recollecting her thoughts in a sigh, looking over to her partner. Who, having collected what he could from his search, presented it to the magish girl.
“The Dicentra? Why would they be committing executions in the borderlands?”
“I wouldn’t know, but considering the large one’s little speech.” he looked over at the pair, still wrapped up in each other. “You were in your season? That’s what it’s called, yes?”
They nod.
“When are you expected back?”
Neither want to answer immediately, it was a slim margin of people, beast or not, who knew of their outing. A slimmer margin then that would find reason to care, slimmer still who’d think to kill them over it and not simply advise against it.
Two months, two weeks.
They had till then before either of their kin would have reason to be concerned.
“Long enough to disappear I take it?”
They look at each other, only so certain that they'd be received well given what had just transpired. Between the two of them, young for their journey, to back away would look crooked.
They'd already waited on the Shepherds call, and even if they wanted to, whose to say they would not be intercepted?
And with that thought they followed the interlopers, fools or not for doing so.
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