Assailant
Intimidating though her appearance is, he does not yield any ground as she moves ever closer to where he stands. A small part of him wants to laugh at her rageful intensity, but he bites down on the urge, remembering how poorly yielding to this impulse had served him recently. He opens his mouth, intending to comment on her insinuations about the Dale, but she leaves no pause for him to speak, so he just waits for her tirade to come to completion.
A twinge, sharp and throbbing, reverberates through his chest when she mentions Tephra. He wonders how long it’s going to be like this, how long he’ll be limping around with little reminders of the kelpie girl like little annoying, painful rocks beneath his feet. It would be lovely to imagine that crossing paths with this Tephra-lover is a sign that all hope is not lost, but the pessimist in him tells him that it’s just another torturous reminder of what is now lost to him.
He does not catch her comment on the Beqanna fairies as he ruminates, but he does realize that she is no longer speaking, so he shifts his weight in nearly the same moment that she does. He clears his throat, swallowing the dusty webs that have collected in his time alone.
“This was once the Forbidden Dale, home of the neutral mythicals when such divisions were prominent in Beqanna.” It feels strange to describe the Dale’s past to a stranger, considering he had never marched under their banner (or really any kingdom’s) in those days.
He does his best to keep his expression passive as he continues on, “As for Tephra, I only know that it no longer exists. It seems that virtually all of the lands disappeared during a series of natural disasters that led to the discoveries of Baltia, a sea kingdom, and Stratos, a sky kingdom. There was an incident on the Mountain and when the smoke cleared, four lands had returned… Pangea, the Gates, the Chamber, and the Dale.”
Before he can stop himself, his curiosity prompts him to ask, “I knew someone from Tephra, but we did not speak much of it.” Exasperation trickles through his veins, heating his blood as the words spill from his mouth. He knows he should just move on, but he cannot stop listening to the whispers of wistfulness that linger and it bothers him. “It seems that you have quite a connection, would you mind telling me more of Tephra and why it means so much to you?”
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware
--Martin Buber