Eternal Flame [Nayru/Hektor]

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

Some people might say it was a bad idea to infiltrate an ancient castle you had no business being in nor claim to owning. Some people might say it was against the law to trespass, or against some imaginary code of social conduct to just show up in someone's house because you felt like it, or maybe they would point out that going by the number of construction crews she'd slipped past, this place was likely to belong to someone important, and that the consequences for angering them might be greater than any sort of satisfactions you might get from the thrill of success.

Some people were boring.

As pleased with herself and the world around her as the cat that got the milk, Nayru lounged lazily in the open window of a once-magnificent, now austere, room that she recognized all too well, trapped in a reverie that blurred timelines past and present. Basking in the gentle breeze, the warmth of the afternoon sun on the left arm hanging out the window and much of the left side of her body, her eyes half lidded, she swam in a sea of memories that clouded her perceptions with a reality she could not tell the truth of.

She remembered it as if it were yesterday - literally. As with some dragons, her memory transcended eidetic, incomprehensibly vast quantities of information methodically stored and cataloged like an immense library, one in which opening a book was like traveling back in time to experience it all over for the first time. Usually it was much more expedient to simply recall the basics and resist the urge to experience it again, but knowing this would likely be the last time she could visit here again, for years if not centuries, had left the young dragon perhaps a tad bit more unwisely brash than she ought to be given recent events.

And yet - at the same time - it was fitting, in a sort of absurdist and ironic way that beggared coincidence. The last time she had been here, as well, she had been young and eager and excitable and naive, and now too she was acting the fool with flawless ease. Enough to raise the question of if she was indeed acting or not, a question she had no answer to. Had it really been so long ago that she had met the lord of this manor, one now consigned to human history as a power-mad fool who had tried to tear Bern apart by the seams? It still seemed like a strange dream - a joke with no punchline - she never had been able to understand how the quiet but passionately patriotic lord could have gone mad with lust for the throne, or even how his vague ideals of the time had crystallized into something that had nearly started a war.

Or had the signs been there all along, and she had just missed them in her naivete? Had he already been deep down the path of rebellion when she met him, and she had simply failed to see them for what they were? The truth eluded Nayru, and it bothered her. Was it something she could have forestalled? Should she have? Was it her place to interfere? Had she misjudged him? She didn't know much about backroom politics and how corrupt he had actually been, but nothing about the earnest and fervent man she had met so long ago seemed to fit the narrative. There was no madness that she could see then, no real interest in the throne, just a Bernese patriot who wanted the best for his country, who railed against cruelty and inequality - who spoke like a man half his age and was willing to entertain a wide-eyed girl rather than call the guards on her.

It just - didn't make sense. She didn't understand what had happened, and now she never would. Whether it was a moment of weakness or a sort of melancholy that an afternoon of indulgence would cure, she knew not, but in a silent motion to pay her final respects to the man, she had come here regardless of the consequences. For a man so insightful and intelligent to have been reduced to so little, a mere footnote in the annals of history? Was it her perceptions that were flawed, her memories and understanding of the time tinted in innocence and foolishness, or had something truly happened to change him so much in his final years?

[Hektor]

History and fate were strange things indeed. The old castle had had parts of its history pieced together by a few historians who were interested in what the stories of the history of the place were all about. They had discovered that the castle had once been the centerfold of a quite prosperous town, one that enjoyed fair amounts of brisk trading and the ability to trade for what it needed from the surrounding villages. It had been quite the gem

What they didn't pick up however, was the tragic tale of the failed rebellion that had taken place so many years ago, just of the few scraps that a terrible ruler one had tuned the castle as residence to commit treason against the king.

Even though it had an abhorrent past, from what they knew, the location of the town old town seemed to be perfect for a few things. It was near a very large inland lake that the castle watched over, the inlet and outlet to the ocean for the lake are both large and deep rivers that could easily be used to transport supplies and materials through. Once they had been cleared out that is, as it was discovered that there were many debris from various structures and natural disasters that had taken place over the centuries.

Aside from that Hektor had taken notice of a much smaller village at the base of the river as it connected to the ocean, it was a small, generally poverty stricken fishing town, but the people he sent to investigate the area also noticed some ruins in the area and a few old buildings that were lived currently. It was the area that he had used to move his troops back and forth across the river to take back the castle from its inhabitants. He of course sent many of the regular troops back to the capital to defend while keeping some for labor and defense for the people.

The sweat dripped off of his brow as he carried a large piece of lumber through town with the help of several other men. Despite his high standing as a genera,l he too took part in the construction of the new town, and this particular piece of lumber was going to be a main support beam for a building that would later most likely become an inn, but for now it was just a welcomed expansion to the places that people could sleep while things were built. And Elmine knew that they needed to expand the sleeping areas because of how cramped they were at the moment. He even had men sleeping out in tents. That would prove disastrous if an enemy somehow got there and it was one of the oversights he'd made, so much for his 'perfect planning' according to his men.

He wiped his brow off with a once white cloth and tucked it into his shirt pocket as he stood there for a moment breathing heavily. There was so much work that needed to get done in order for this place to become a strong safe haven for the refugees like he intended. Another fallacy in his planning as he didn't quite know how much work it would take to build the town up. But now that it was started he was determined to finish it. For the people if not for his desire to not give up. So he went back to work with the other men for a while longer until a group of concerned soldiers pulled him aside and made him take a break.

After getting so rudely pushed off of the immediate task force the only think he could really do was give orders. He had some rather experienced town planers for the building stages and he already had consulted them about making the town highly defensible by soldiers and by the people so that was taken care of which left little for him to do. Besides going back to the castle for a well needed break. Everyone needed a break at this point though.

It was so serene as he walked back to the castle with the sounds of construction fading away. There were still people, and some soldiers, but they were much more quiet. At least they seemed that way around him. It almost started getting creepy hoe silent regular people were being so he was glad to finally get inside the castle and start wandering around it, trying to memorize its layout. Just in case.

After lazily meandering around the castle for a little bit he decided that he had better sit down for a few moments like the others wanted, so he made his way up to one of the castle's large master bedrooms, one that had specifically reserved for him to work.

Once he reached the heavyset wooden door he pushed it open, and it's hinges squeaked loudly. He'd have to get the hinge lubricated later so it would stop that infernal noise. Although it was a decent way to tell when someone was opening the door. Perhaps he should just leave it like that for the time being. After taking a few steps into the cozy room, suddenly his gaze was drawn to something he would never have expected. Something that made his shoulders tighten instinctively. Someone sitting on the windowsill of the room's window. How dangerous.

"Excuse me, May I help you?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

It took a few moments of staring at the intruder to her mind for Nayru to actually register what was going on - that she had company of a sort in her(?) room. Blocking the exit, as it so happened, the more threat-aware side of her mind helpfully supplied, but most of Nayru the woman was still trapped partway between memories and reality; the eternal threat of diving too deep into her memories of the past, and the downside to her encyclopedic memory banks. Touching on their edges for information was perfectly safe, but re-living them robbed her of situational awareness, of her senses back in the real world, and coming back was always a jarring experience.

None of that showed on her face, though, the half-dreaming dragon greeting the new lord of the castle with an ethereal smile and absolutely none of the recognition that probably would have helped her case. Not that she had any idea who the hell Hektor was; she had heard the name of some irrelevant regent of Bern but knew not the faces of the 'great men' of the day, her complete lack of interest in human politics perhaps coming back to bite her for not the first time.

But it did seem a bit rude to not greet him. "Hello," she settled on, a simple greeting wrought of dreamy languor, her mind trying to piece itself back together well enough to actually respond to his comment. Help her? She almost giggled, actually did in one breath. Why would he have to help her? She didn't even belong here. Something about the situation was incredibly funny, and she hadn't the foggiest idea why. It was actually a little frustrating, and perhaps ironically, helped speed up the process of returning to the present. Hmm. Bookish? He was sort of handsome, in a distinguished sort of way. Reminded her a bit of - ah. No. He was long dead, and the hair color was all wrong anyways.

The thought burrowed into her mind like a worm, accompanied by the cold truth of reality washing over her pleasant dreams like a torrent of muddy water over a field of poppies. She was angry for a moment, not at Hektor, but at herself, at the foolhardy stupidity of having allowed herself to revel so deeply in the past and reminding her of what happened when she got attached to people - something she had gotten very good at ignoring lately - but little of that sentiment escaped her, though the fond sorrow in her words spoke of it in sighing whispers. "No," Nayru simply stated, turning her head back outside, towards the life and greens and browns and bobbing tiny heads far below that made up Elibe as she could see it from here.

"Not unless you can bring back the past."

[Hektor]

Hektor nodded back to the rather well off looking lady and folded his arms behind his back as she said hello in turn and also seemed happy to see him if the giggle was any measure. Strange as it may be, however, he didn't seem to recognize her. Perhaps she knew him in some capacity, or maybe she had something wrong with her and had only wandered away from the one charged with taking care of her. Or maybe he was just over analyzing things as always. Prying into every needless possibility that may happen, but it was either that or be surprised by everything, so it could be a worse trait to exhibit, especially with all of the duties he was charged with and what rested on his shoulders.

"The past?" He questioned, that does seem quite impossible to bring back in most cases. It might most easily be done by gathering some historians or books of recording. Both of which were in his capacity to do, although it would be a stretch to say he would do something that tedious for a stranger he'd just met. Not without some special indication. "There is at least one historian currently somewhere outside with the others who are setting foundations and he can spin quite a web of pictures with his stories. . . ." He trailed off, stroking his glorious mustache. "But that is not what you mean, is it my dear?" he spoke softly, Chances are one would not come here to learn about many parts of history, not of Bern, and especially not of any country like Lycia or Etruria. No, that would be better achieved at the Royal library at the capital. Or a few of the other places of research around Bern. Also one would go to those places, or the historian outside if they wanted stories of the past, So that left only one thing she could realistically mean. "Well, I do intend to bring back the past in a sense, my dear. Part of Bern's past that had it as a peaceful, virile country that None but Etruria could hope to rival in terms of culture and wealth. That I do intend to bring back." He said solely as he quietly stepped across the room towards what appeared to be a small stove. Once he got there he snapped his fingers, a small flame appearing above them until it was carefully lowered into the stove where it took root among the tinder down there, causing it to flare up. Afterwards he set the perpetually filled kettle nearby onto the source of heat.
"Could I interest you in some tea perchance?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"Peace, huh?"

Her faculties returning as she exercised them, Nayru pondered the distinguished looking man's answer. Peace. It was such a... nice concept. Pretty. Alluring, even. Everyone wanted peace, from the average farmboy to the greatest warhawks; everyone claimed to have the best road to it. "Everyone wants peace, but no one can agree how to get there. The irony is exquisite." Nayru wasn't exactly the most politically gifted of her kin, even by human standards she was pretty clueless about a lot of the details on government, but she had seen what so many 'peacemakers' had done to Elibe, and her kind, and the land they lived in, bore the scars of the greatest making of 'peace' in history.

So, she wasn't quite as attached to the word as she was to the concept, to put it nicely. Nayru didn't have a problem with Hektor using it... she just didn't take too much from it. It was a bit ironic, though. The last guy she had talked to who lived here had said something similar, and look how THAT turned out for him. The thought did occur to her that something similar could be said for her showing up, unbidden, somewhere that apparently people lived... hmm. A little delicious hypocrisy. "Thank you." She inclined her head lightly, a little belatedly realizing her situation. "And uh, sorry for dropping in unannounced. Didn't realize anyone lived here these days."

The young(?) lady rubbed her head awkwardly, completely clueless to who Hektor was but vaguely aware that she was probably lucky to not have the guards called on her already - a lot of human nobles took security very seriously, as she had, uh, learned the hard way a few times. "Well, that's not... ENTIRELY true, but I didn't think anyone had moved in yet. Wanted to see this place one last time, I guess." At least until the next time it ended up vacant... or destroyed. Who knew what the future held? Nayru certainly hadn't expected this place to change so drastically a mere few years after she had first visited, and hadn't even known what happened to it until centuries later - not long ago in fact. Was she to lose track of this place and its new owner again? Hold some grand and enlightening conversation that shaped her world view, leave, and find out in another 300 years that this guy had gone rogue and tried to plunge Bern into civil war too?

Well... it'd be hard to start a second simultaneous civil war, so... yeah, probably not. It would be pretty impressive if he did pull it off though, honestly.

[Hektor]

He stood over the kettle as the flame burned away, just enough to slightly warm the area directly around the makeshift stove, but not enough to melt the kettle or pose a fire hazard. He shook his head at her words. He almost wished what she said was true. Then maybe something could be actually worked out. But it wasn't. He'd seen too many things to believe that now. "Sadly, not everyone wants peace. Some thrive on war, they use it to take advantage of people and gain more power. Just look at the rebels. Everything was relatively peaceful, aside from a few bandits, when they started their uprising. They started killing many, the people they owed debts too, and even their own brothers. No, they don't want peace. They just want power." He said solemnly without even turning away from the kettle and cups. He took out the unique blend of herbs and tea leaves that he used and began to separate them into two separate cloth pouches. He didn't recall her exactly saying yes to wanting tea, but just in case he missed it he was making one for her. It would be impolite after all.

He let out a small sigh. He would be lying to himself to say that he wasn't slightly nervous about a random person that he didn't recognize being here, and if one could read mustachios well they might be able to tell, but he could most likely handle one person. Especially with magic, or just hold them off until others arrive. But that was the small chance that she was hostile. She didn't seem to be aggressive in any sort of matter which was good, so that made him just think that she was lost. In one way or another. Then came her strange thanks and apologies. Perhaps the thanks was for the upcoming cup of tea and maybe the apologies was the arrival. That was another good sign that she meant no ill will.

Hektor chuckled a little bit at that last part, "Live here? Not quite yet. The area was abandoned until the rather recent rebel group holing up in here. Aside from that we haven't spent a week here." He said as he thought of all of the men and women outside laboring to help build a new place to live. With all of the villages lost to the bandit siege in Sacae, and all of the refugees displaced by the uprisings the least he could do was take this area back and give the people a safe place to live and work.

Hektor's guards would also throw a fit if they found him meeting with random people like this, especially without their protection. But he was the commander of them. Or so he liked to think. He wasn't quite sure who Ilia was sending to make sure he did what they wanted him to do. For now their goals aligned. Stop the rebels.

As he continued to listen, finishing getting the mix in the pouches, he stopped at hearing something strange in her words. Last? Why would it be her last time? Surly she could come visit at other points in time. Unless she was moving very far away. Or if she was terminally ill. He had never met anyone like that personally but he had heard of a few cases where even the healers could not help. He turned and looked at her a glint of concern in his eyes. "Last time? You can always come back. Unless, you are moving far away?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"Isn't the same true of Ilia?" Nayru didn't waste a great deal of time beating around the bush in her reaction, but her words lacked the sense of moral outrage to really give them the kick of an emotional response. "Leeching resources from Bern to make up for their own poor soil and lack of natural resources - peace in Bern is secondary to the benefit for Ilia." She shrugged. The dragon didn't care any more for the theme than she had when arguing the subject with Clair, but while she never intended to get involved with human politics, and generally didn't care that much one way or another, that didn't mean she had no opinions on the subject - or much interest in pulling her punches on the rare occasion she weighed in much about it.

The whole subject was just ugly, though, and she didn't care for it much either way. Nayru wasn't naive enough to think that the dispute was simple enough that just a bit of talking or another perspective would solve everything. If it was that simple, well, diplomats would have solved it long ago. All wars she had seen were about resources, though, even if they were gussied up by pretty words like 'freedom' and 'religion' and 'glory,' and from that perspective this was simple enough. "I don't know enough about the rebels to gauge their moral standing, but in the end, they want the same thing as Ilia - power. But what happens when they get it? Will Bern be 'free,' whatever that means, or just switch rulers?"

She scoffed at the thought, the implications contained within those words. Truth be told she knew little enough about the Rebellion to not really be entitled to an opinion about them. But she had heard tales of them while talking to people - men and women, farmers and bakers, who had been thoroughly dissatisfied with how the ruling figures of Bern had dealt with the chimera. How neither the rebels nor Ilia's puppets had been willing - or perhaps able - to spare a great deal of forces to deal with it, each presumably worried that the other side would take advantage of their weakness.

And in the end, it had been her and Veigue to deal with it. Which was... probably why she was going to leave Bern as soon as possible and not come back for at least thirty or forty years, a generation or two, in hopes that people would forget all about her. She wasn't so big on fame, to put it lightly. "It is interesting to hear you dislike the rebels so much, though. From what I hear, they're pretty popular these days, and supposedly winning... not that anyone really wins in a civil war, I guess."

Funny how history worked. If the rebels won - the 'evil oppressors' in Ilia had been driven out to allow self-determination. Classic good versus evil story, with all the underdog overtones that people liked. If Ilia won - they had put down a 'dangerous group of terrorists' who were 'dedicated to destabilizing Bern for their own gains,' the effort to pacify them 'regretfully' led by their 'heavy-hearted ally' in Ilia, just trying to help their Bernese brethren. People at that crap up too, especially in this world of monsters and bandits, where stability and safety were rapidly becoming equal and opposite, perhaps even preferable, to freedom. As long as they weren't getting murdered by [insert boogeyman here] and had food on their table, the common people of every country didn't really care who called the shots up top.

[Hektor]

Hektor shook his head woefully as he listened to Nayru, the unnamed mystery, talk about her concerns of how Ilia was draining Bern's resources. It was true in a sense, that much he couldn't deny. Resources were worth a bit, especially to a country such as Ilia which has little usable farmland or room to grow. Or so he remembered from his studies, but there was a reasonable answer to why. "No, it isn't quite true of Ilia. While they may make a majority of their profits from mercenary work I am positive that as of now they are tired of fighting and just want to recuperate their losses. After all, it was the old King of Bern that hired many legions of their mercenaries, only to stiff them out of most of the payment that was required. Ilia lost so much on that deal, so many of their people died. We, as the people of Bern need to own up to that debt and pay them back. It is in no way legal to shrug this off." He paused for a few seconds to let that sink in and let out a small sigh. He never understood why so many people chose to deny the fact that Bern owes Ilia. the worst part is is that Bern could probably pay it back easily with a large one time tax. But that wasn't going to happen.

He shrugged at her next question, "That. . . is something that will not happen." he said bluntly. He didn't even want to think of what might happen if the Rebels came into power. If that happened then everything that he had been working for will have been ruined. The Economic powerhouse and refugee center he was planning on setting up here would most likely be torn down. Ilia would most likely side with any nation willing to wage war on Bern, lawlessness would run rampant, and he would no longer be there to help. Why would he be? He would most likely be killed for 'treason' in their eyes.

A sharp whistling broke his small silence, making him twitch slightly as though it was a more distressing sound. He casually turned back to the noisy kettle and put out the fire. He didn't remember her turning down his offer for tea so he would make her some anyway, pouring the scalding water into the two cups that had the teabags in them. "Do they want power? That is probably their whole reason for doing this. Personally I wish I could just step down. Go live in a house somewhere else, drinking tea while reading a good book in front of a warm fire. But my people need me. As for their popularity? That would probably be due to them bullying other groups into joining them with threats. Join or die. I've seen a few groups like that." He ended with a shrug.

Hektor set the two, rather ornate, teacups on their separate plate before carrying one over to the woman and setting it down near her and returning to grab his own, only to sit in one of the chairs in the room, near the door and next to a small desk. "If, by some chance, those rebels win, I have no doubt Ilia will side with anyone willing to attack them, whether it be Kraft and his 'blessed armies," he said that sarcastically, " Or some outside power. Perhaps a union of Sacae and Lycia. Suddenly a half smile grew on his face and he gained a glint of amusement in his eyes, "Or maybe Dragons will raise from the dead to fight the rebels. A dragon already did a number on One of the Large arenas in Bern. Plus with reports of Hargus in Sacae I've heard crazier things." He said with a loud, boisterous, laugh. Ha. Dragons. That would probably be the doom of them all.

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"Perhaps." Nayru shrugged, not really outraged about the whole thing - she might not care overmuch for the morality of it but she knew enough of realpolitik to recognize that it was not an evil act, merely the practiced selfishness of survival, a mindset without which no country could truly survive. The world didn't run on good feelings. "The people of Ilia certainly don't seem to benefit much from it though, at least from what I've seen. Makes one wonder where it's all going. But isn't that the one constant in war? It's always the common people who suffer as men of power fight over who gets to play at ownership of their fellow man."

It was perhaps indicative of Nayru's internalized hypocrisy that it wasn't until Hektor's comment about retiring that she first started to pay attention to what he meant rather than simply what he said - to register him as a person rather than an Ilian lapdog or oppressor or nobleman or whatever the hell he was, she had no idea. And probably would have chosen her words a little more carefully and minded her manners better if she had known, but that was neither here nor there.

And the reason, as if to accentuate her own feelings, was a very light sense of kinship, of understanding what he was saying. By no means were their experiences the same, she had no idea what challenges he faced, but she could empathize with the idea of unwanted responsibility. Not in the exact sense he could most likely, she had never cared for politics, but her and Veigue's little... crusade of sorts to try to stop as many monsters, and help as many people, as possible? It was wearing on her a bit. Or maybe she just didn't like what she had come to suspect after that battle against the chimera. Thanks be to the Sky that her fame hadn't caught up to her yet, giving her a chance to get the hell out of Bern before she had to deal with it. Not that Hektor needed to know that, but that was why she didn't expect to be back for a few decades at least, and her moment of weakness and nostalgia that led to her arrival here.

Nayru took the offered tea with a murmured thanks and carefully - and perhaps a touch cautiously - sipped it. Not that she was expecting poison, but if she had learned anything about sampling most of Elibe's cuisine, it was that sometimes people made stuff really goddamn weird and gave no warning that your bread was actually full of fire ants. This stuff was pretty good though, and she didn't taste any ants, fire or otherwise, so she had to give Hektor that round. "Responsibility..." The word came out almost unconsciously as the dragon stared down at her cup of tea, pensive in the moment. "Easy to talk about, harder to do. I think I liked it better when it was just a pretty word. Trying to shoulder the burdens of others is an exhausting task." She shook her head, recoiling mentally from the statement in her own way. It wasn't that it was or wasn't true, exactly, there were aspects of both, but that attitude had held her back for a long time and she was still trying to shake it. But that was easier said than done, and she was still weak. In mind as well as body.

"I don't know your story, but the people of Bern... as with all Elibe... could do more people with your attitude. Too many people seek power for its own sake, and centuries of warfare and suffering showcase the fruit of that tree in all its glory and all its horror." Was this mustachio'd man speaking what was actually on his mind, or merely pretty platitudes? Was he, too, desperately in search of power, and merely lying to others about it? Was he lying to himself? She didn't know, couldn't know just yet. Certainly he didn't have the more obvious signs of falsehood she had learned over long centuries to usually detect, but then she was nowhere near as capable of a social mastermind as the wiser of her kind, and Nayru was keenly aware of that. Her judgement of people was usually pretty good - but it was nowhere near perfect. And in her line of business, taking chances generally left one with a lot more to lose than to gain.

The commentary about dragons was amusing, as much for the ironic truth as any lie. Or at least as amusing as knowing that one of her friends, if Marcus could be called that, was dead - Richter had confirmed as much. It was still bittersweet; good to know he had survived so long after they met, that he had made friends, good friends, and found a place for himself... tinged with the unfortunate truth that he was dead. Not exactly a storybook ending. "So I hear. Supposedly a city was razed by one a few years ago as well. Is it ironic or fitting, I wonder, that Bern - home of wyverns - also seems the country to host the most rumors of dragons?" Nayru didn't know how true the other story was, but held a certain level of a grudge against whatever dumbass did it. The last thing dragons needed was to make MORE enemies, much less set humans on guard against them, if there was to be any hope of reconciliation. Her left hand clenched unconsciously, curling up a little though not quite into a fist, as she reigned in her emotions. She didn't know what she'd do if she was forced to choose between siding with her kin and humanity... but in the case of a dragon attacking humans, especially if Veigue was in danger, Nayru was acutely aware that she would probably just rip them apart on the spot.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"Though personally, I'm more worried about the monsters. whatever foul sorcery Hargus performed at the City of Heroes created a great deal more of them than Elibe needs to deal with, and stronger and stranger creatures keep popping up. Baels in Lycia, the cyclopean monstrosity that Hargus supposedly summoned, the chimera that was rampaging through southern Bern - those are real threats, immediate problems, that Elibe seems determined to refuse to unite against. And so the common folk suffer as their rulers continue to fight over meaningless titles. At least they're consistent, I guess."

5/30/16 edit: yeah I'm just gonna go ahead and say this is probably a dead topic, GG.