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Forums > Roleplay > 1x1
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Merc x The Tea DrinkersNovember 30, 2024 03:10 PM


Mercenary

Neutral
 
Posts: 111
#3073155
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When Tallan came to, he felt elevated. His stomach and shoulder stung, a pinging sensation firing. He winced and slightly groaned, unable to keep his eyes open. He could feel the warmth of someone else, though remained quiet as he didn't feel strong enough to even speak.

Tallan woke up in a room that seemed familiar in a way that it wasn't. Above him was a high ceiling, made of stone and marble. He looked around for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the leaking light from the grand window to his right side. Tallan realized he was indeed somewhere new when he saw the face of a woman to his other side.

"Do not move. Your wounds are great, boy," she said, almost like she hated what she had done. Tallan huffed softly, slowly sitting up in the bed he laid in. His ragged shirt was gone, bandages and wraps against his skin. He looked down, only seeing the slightest bit of blood but it appeared to be old. He looked at the woman again who continued whatever it was she was doing.

"How long have I been here?" Tallan mustered up, his voice hoarse.

"Two days. You were found near our woods by by our Prince," she explained gently. Tallan shook his head.

"Where am I?" Tallan asked.

"You ask a lot of questions when you should be grateful your life has been saved," the woman spoke, her tone growing sour. Tallan winced, nodding, and stayed quiet the remainder of her time in the room with him.

"You may have a few visitors today. It isn't often we save what's outside our walls," she murmured before slipping through the heavy wooden doors, a bloodied pan in hand. Tallan sighed softly, adjusting his weight in the bed.

Tallan managed to rise to his feet, looking around the room. It was rather large - too large to be some sort of medical space. His feet were cold against the flooring, to which he shivered, but quickly adjusted as he began very slowly moving towards a bookcase. He observed them, dust collected all over them. He gave a distasteful look before pulling one off, flipping through its pages.

All of this was foreign to him. Had Tallan truly traveled this far? He looked around again, trying to make sense of it all. There had to be something that explained where he was, and when he found a thicker book, he grasped it and returned to the bed. He sat down, the book open in his lap. He found nothing. No kingdom name, lineage... was he even alive?

That's when Tallan decided he would have to wander. His dirty pants were his only article of clothing on, so he hoped anyone who would see him would be quick to realize he was in no place for a fight. He was hot and pale, his face a ghostly white. He was hungry, too, and maybe he could find something to ease the emptiness in his stomach.

Tallan slipped through the doors and looked around. Nobody was in the current corridor, but he heard very faint chatter. He began walking, his footsteps light as he held his side gently. He turned the corner, and to his luck, he found himself smelling homemade bread that permeated the air. He gave a small smirk before following the smell, soon entering some sort of kitchen.

A woman noticed him.

"You should be sleeping," she spoke. She was quite young, perhaps younger than himself, and gave a soft look towards Tallan.

"I haven't ate..." he trailed off. "Does everyone here know who I am?" Tallan inquired.

"We know you were found by our prince in the woods. You obviously don't know how to handle yourself," she said, grabbing a loaf of bread and tearing it in half. She tossed it towards Tallan, who caught it.

"Thanks," he said with the offer of a small smile.

"I'm Joanna," she said.

"Tallan," he replied, gesturing with the bread.

Her eyes slightly widened, and he felt a few more eyes on him.

"Like... Tallan Facklor?" Joanna questioned him, placing a hand on her hip.

Tallan nodded reluctantly.

"You're a long way from home then." Joanna turned her back before approaching Tallan. He was only slightly taller than her, her eyes a deep hazel color meeting his own.

"The Unwanted. Word travels fast you know. Most think you went and wandered off into the wilderness to die. Perhaps that is true," she continued on. Tallan said nothing.

"Personally, you look weak doing that," she said while pointing to his bandages.

"You disagree with the revoking of my title?" Tallan asked.

"I believe the Gods would know the answer to that," she said with a small chuckle.

"You're a tease!" Tallan exclaimed, laughing as well.

Tallan began talking to the other women in the kitchen, hoping it was okay for him to be there.

Merc x The Tea DrinkersNovember 30, 2024 03:16 PM


The Tea Drinkers

Darkseeker
 
Posts: 2489
#3073160
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When Kyrie entered the kitchen, his presence was immediate. The faint scent of lavender clung to him, mingling with the warmth of fresh bread. He moved with a quiet grace, the light from the high window catching the gold in his eyes. At first, the women paid him no mind—until Joanna noticed him and froze mid-laugh. Her sudden silence alerted the others, and they all quickly dipped their heads in deference.
Kyrie’s voice cut through the room like soft thunder. “I see our guest has decided to wander.” His tone was measured, neither scolding nor amused, but it carried an undeniable authority.
Kyrie’s gaze flicked to the bandages wrapped around Tallan’s shoulder, then to the bread in his hand. His expression softened, though he didn’t smile. “The fact that you’re standing at all is testament to your stubbornness. Though I’d have preferred you rested in the room where I left you.” He stepped closer, his presence imposing yet strangely reassuring. “The kitchen isn’t exactly where I expected to find you.”
“And here you are. Alive,” Kyrie muttered, his gaze piercing. “A thing the gods may answer in their time, but for now, know that your life is yours because I saw fit to save it.”
The weight of those words hung in the air. The women shuffled back to their work, though it was clear they were still listening intently. Joanna, however, stood her ground, her hazel eyes darting between the two men.
Kyrie studied him for a long moment. “You're welcome for being saved. You didn’t deserve to die in the dirt like a beast.” His voice softened slightly, the faintest hint of warmth creeping in. “Whatever brought you to our borders, it wasn’t fate’s way of casting you aside.”
Kyrie inclined his head, stepping closer until he was standing just before him. His voice dropped, meant only for Tallan to hear. “You are not among enemies here, stranger, but you are not among blind fools, either. Keep that in mind.”
He smirked faintly, the barest tilt of his lips. “I hope you are not looking for trouble. Perhaps we’ll find something useful in you yet.” He stepped back, addressing the room at large. “Ensure he gets back to his room before sundown. His wounds are still healing.”
Kyrie’s golden gaze landed on Joanna, and she offered an innocent smile. “See that you make sure he is comfortable," he said before turning to one of the cooks.
He spent a few minutes discussing the meal that was being created, each word firm but gentle. When he had finished, he dismissed the cook and turned back to the boy in front of him with a critical eye.
"Will you share your story with us, stranger? The king will not take kindly to me letting a peasant boy into the kingdom."

Edited at November 30, 2024 03:29 PM by The Tea Drinkers
Merc x The Tea DrinkersNovember 30, 2024 03:47 PM


Mercenary

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Posts: 111
#3073167
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Tallan noticed the demeanor change in the women, especially Joanna. He turned to see a new face, someone regal and clean, who he was quick to assume was royalty. Tallan adjusted himself slightly, his heart beginning to race. However, with the words of the man, Tallan felt more at ease. He was expecting a scold or a yell, but instead, felt more invited than he had anticipated.

"I was looking to find out where I was..." Tallan trailed off, raising the eaten bread. He laughed unsurely, adjusting and holding his side again.

This man was indeed Tallan's savior. He gave a slight bow to the best of his abilities. "Thank you," he said softly in return. Tallan glanced at Joanna who was closely watching them, assuming she had some authority in this room. Tallan looked back at the man.

"I appreciate your kindness," Tallan replied, another thank you. He gave a slight upturn of his lips before the man was practically right in front of him. He looked at him, taking in the details of his face. Tallan nodded at his words. He knew deep down these people could probably peace together who he was, especially now since he was slightly cleaner and a bit more recognizable. Tallan swallowed slightly, though not out of fear.

"I have no means to make enemies. I need help," Tallan spoke softly.

"Oh! My manners... I'm Tallan," he said. "I'm glad you've welcomed me here and your hospitality won't go unnoticed," Tallan was quick to add. He had almost forgotten who he was, though as the prince before him said - Tallan was no beast.

Tallan looked at the women as the prince spoke to all. His tone was authoritative though not threatening. Tallan felt welcomed, and wasn't sure how often he could say that without sounding like a wounded bird. Tallan held his side as the man addressed one of the cooks, and before he knew it, his attention was back to him.

"Yes," Tallan quickly responded. "It is a... long one, one you may have heard by now." Tallan looked to Joanna who began cutting some greens nearby, though was more focused on her work than the two men.

"Must I address the King?" Tallan then asked. He wanted to know what kingdom he was currently taking sanctuary in, but struggled to find the courage to ask.

"Kyrie, you must be a fool if this boy doesn't appear to be someone we've already heard of," Joanna said, setting her knife aside. Although her tone was teasing, Tallan almost looked ashamed a guilty, like a puppy who had gotten into something he wasn't meant to. He looked at Kyrie for a moment, awaiting some sort of reaction.

There was something of fear in Tallan's eyes. Perhaps a denounced heir was worse than a peasant boy. Tallan was unsure what could be happening back home and how the people were doing, especially his mother and the twins. He looked down at the ground, playing with the bread in his hand before he would finish eating it.

Tallan then looked slightly surprised. Kyrie. Prince. That's the name he heard at a small village! Tallan looked up again towards him and his eyes were quick to soften again. Perhaps the Gods were listening to him, but Tallan couldn't believe it. He remained quiet however, but his realization would be obvious to spot.

Merc x The Tea DrinkersNovember 30, 2024 04:49 PM


The Tea Drinkers

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Posts: 2489
#3073173
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Kyrie frowned at the servant girl’s casual words, the sharpness in his gaze enough to silence the soft murmur of chatter in the kitchen. His head tipped slightly, hazel eyes narrowing as his lips pressed into a thin line. For a brief moment, he considered letting the comment pass, but the impulse to correct lingered like an itch beneath his skin.
"Should I know the name of every boy who runs rampant through a kingdom that will never be mine?" His voice was quiet, laced with a chilling edge that seemed to lower the room’s temperature. Each word dripped with cold sarcasm, despite his attempt to temper it. There was a weight to his tone that silenced even the clinking of utensils as every ear turned, knowingly or not, toward the exchange.
Satisfied that the servant girl had nothing more to add, Kyrie turned his attention back to Tallan, who stood awkwardly beside the counter, clutching a half-loaf of bread. Kyrie’s face quickly resettled into a mask of neutral authority, though his earlier irritation simmered beneath the surface. He studied the boy for a moment, noting the faint pallor of his face and the effort it took him to remain upright.
"For now," Kyrie began, his voice measured, “I will withhold any information you give me from the King. You will not be required to speak before him, not unless I deem it necessary. However,” he continued, letting the word hang in the air, “he is your true host. Should you need anything, or should someone come seeking you, it is my duty as his... son to bring it before him.”
The pause before *son* lingered longer than it should have, and Kyrie inwardly winced at his own hesitation. He hated referring to himself that way, especially before strangers. The word carried a weight of expectation that he had never fully embraced, and even now, it felt foreign on his tongue. Despite his frustrations, his expression remained composed, his chin lifting slightly as he continued.
“It is customary to show gratitude when one’s life has been spared, but I suspect that that sort of thing might be foreign to you.” Kyrie’s tone was sharp, though not unkind. “I suggest you begin practicing.”
Kyrie saw Joanna flinched slightly at the remark, but ignored it completely, unwilling to be knocked off his stride. Kyrie noted it but said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them. A maid lingering in the corner caught his eye, her gaze too brazenly fixed on the unfolding scene. Kyrie turned his sharp stare toward her, taking a quiet satisfaction in the way she flinched and quickly dropped her eyes to the stone floor. Her departure from the room was swift, her footsteps barely audible as she disappeared down the corridor.
He had been surprised that when the boy had said his name that there had been no title, no embellishment, just the single name which had been spoken plainly. He was sure that the man had one, he must just be holding it back. But Kyrie knew better than to go against the rules of Xenia, and would let it slide until the boy was rested and fed, unless Tallan himself chose to tell the truth.
“Very well,” Kyrie said after a moment, his voice softening slightly. He inclined his head ever so slightly, more an acknowledgment than a gesture of respect. “It would be proper for me to introduce myself in turn, though I doubt it will matter much to you.” His gaze flicked briefly to the women in the kitchen, some of whom pretended to busy themselves but were clearly eavesdropping. “I am Kyriakos Herei, Son of the Sun, born to die.”
The formal introduction was spoken with precision, each word deliberate. It was a title that carried both reverence and tragedy, and Kyrie hated using it. It always invited questions, whispers, and speculation. But tradition demanded it, and Kyrie was nothing if not dutiful to the roles imposed upon him.
He continued, his voice steady and commanding. “The reigning king is Leander, the Lion King of Opus. You stand in his kingdom, under his rule, and until his return to the palace, you are under my hospitality.” Kyrie’s hazel eyes locked onto Tallan’s with a weight that demanded understanding. “In time, you may find that a kindness.”
The room was silent as Kyrie’s words settled, the gravity of his presence filling the space. Kyrie didn’t wait for him to find the words. Instead, he turned his gaze to the servant girl who had spoken earlier, his expression softening just enough to let her know he wasn’t entirely without patience.
"Please tell the girls that my father will return from his hunt tomorrow evening, and will most likely return with a great amount of meat, so let them be prepared to cook it for his feast," he said, his tone slightly absentminded.

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