The forest was peaceful, a welcome break from the warzone they had worked their way through in the Exalted Plains, as well as the deadly elven burial grounds. But Romulus could still sense the threat lingering nearby. Same as the last time they'd wandered through these lands.
It wasn't a threat, necessarily, since the Keeper's First was with them. That alone was enough to grant them safe passage. But Romulus was well aware that other scouts, hunters of Khari's clan were keeping a close watch on them. Him especially, no doubt. He rode easily enough, not even letting on that he knew he was being watched. At least, he seemed as at ease as he was capable of. For once, he actually looked less tense than Khari did. He knew he felt it, too. His nervousness was of a different kind.
He worried that he wouldn't know how to help Khari here. This was not a situation he'd ever encountered before, helping a friend face their past like this. A past they claimed they didn't want to see again. Romulus had always expected that wasn't quite true of Khari, but he wasn't the type to push. He worried he wasn't the type to comfort, either. That was usually what Khari did, saying what needed to be said, what he and any of her other friends needed to hear. Seeing her tense, seeing her doubt... it had a way of unsettling him.
If nothing else, he was resolved to at least be here for her, and do his best to see what way he could assist. Even if it just meant standing quietly at her side. He couldn't help but feel that someday he would have to face his own past again. Their cases weren't remotely similar, but one thing was the same: he didn't think he could face that alone, either.
Vareth rode some distance ahead of them, never getting out of sight. Romulus had made no attempt to keep at his halla's side, rather deliberately trying to fall back, and Khari as before didn't go out of her way to speak with the First. Vareth respected the distance, perhaps simply to keep the bodies away from their immediate proximity. He had wrapped them in plant matter, a task Romulus did not envy, and tied them down to the back of his halla. The stench was lessened somewhat now that they were removed from the still air of the tomb, but it was still hard to miss.
"For what it's worth," he said to Khari, quietly enough to avoid being heard by Vareth, or any of the hidden scouts watching them, "I think you're doing the right thing. Seeing them." He didn't know how much his own judgement could be counted for. His decision making had a way of leading him astray. But he felt pretty certain about this. She'd left this life behind with an unclean tear, and now she had a chance to rectify that. Not mend the cut, Romulus didn't think that would ever happen... but a chance at least to make it clean, and something she didn't have to look back on with doubt or guilt.
Khari glanced at him, her expression pinched. She did not sit as comfortably on her horse as usual, and the animal seemed to sense that something was wrong, from the uneasy way he moved. After he shied at the snapping of a branch underfoot, she seemed to realize the cause of his disquiet and forced herself to relax a little. “Maybe." She didn't sound convinced, but her tone wasn't exactly skeptical either. Certainly not the same stubborn insistence she'd used the first time the topic had come up, when they were searching for her mentor. “I just... I really hope this isn't a mistake."
Ahead of them, Vareth pulled up, turning on his halla's back and waiting for them both to come within comfortable earshot. "Camp's just through here. They know we're coming by now, but I'll go first anyway. Give it about five minutes or so, and then follow. I'm sure Khari still knows where it is."
She nodded, more a little downwards jerk of her head than anything. He smiled slightly, then turned back to face forward, nudging the halla forwards with his legs. His absence left the two of them in silence. Khari sighed heavily and leaned herself forward to rest against her horse's neck. “He's changed." The observation was cautious, almost as though she wasn't sure what to think about it. “Used to be he asked permission where I asked forgiveness. I wonder what else has changed."
"You have, for one." Romulus nudged his horse a little closer beside hers, shortening the distance until he could comfortably reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe they won't be as mortified as you think, to see what you've become." Maybe they would be. But if that happened, they would deal with it, and if the worst came to pass, they weren't prisoners here, and had hopefully earned themselves some good will for defeating the Revenant and restoring peace to Var Bellanaris. They could leave whenever they wanted to.
She snorted softly, turning her face so that her cheek was pressed to the horse's neck and she was looking at him instead. “Guess we should go find out, huh?" She sat back up, a brief half-smile flitting across her face before it was gone. “Worst-case scenario, I have an epic shouting match with my mom and you get to learn a bunch of really excellent elven cusswords, so... I guess that wouldn't be too bad."
Despite her tone, she pulled in a deep breath before picking up the reins. “All right... follow me, then." She nudged the animal forward, pointing him down an almost-invisible trail between a pair of trees, the same one Vareth had used. It narrowed considerably at points, explaining the need for a single file line. The terrain was clearly not made for the horses, but they handled it well enough, and in time, an encampment slowly became visible between the trunks of trees.
It was well-blended, even as close as they were, but by the time Khari had guided them to the larger gap in the treeline that served as entrance, the layout was clearly visible. There were caravans, of a sort, apparently styled after boats more than anything, including sails, drooped now in the absence of any breeze. They looked solid and perhaps even watertight, as though they might sometimes be boats. That might be sensible, if the clan ever found itself with the need to ford a river. For now, though, they were on wheels, settled comfortably to the ground with stakes, cloth shelters folded out of them like more elaborate tents.
There was a large fire pit at the center of the camp, several elves arranged around it. Two were carving the body of a large animal—a deer or something similar. Others worked at wooden tables set up near the caravans, with assortments of tools Romulus had never seen before, probably a reflection of the materials they worked. Almost to a one, they'd paused in whatever they were doing to observe the visitors; more than one wore a look of open surprise.
Khari's attention, however, had snapped to the man standing next to Vareth nearest the entrance. He was tall, as far as elves went, perhaps the same height as Romulus. Though his hair, worn long, was liberally streaked with grey, it was clearly at base the same color as Khari's, an almost flame-red hue. His vallaslin were very dark green, in a pattern of climbing vines, offsetting his eyes, which were a lighter, catlike green. He carried a pale staff, simple in design, with a blade at the bottom end and some kind of red crystal set in the top.
"Kharisanna." He breathed the word like he didn't believe it. "Da'len."
Khari shifted awkwardly in her saddle, clearing her throat.
“Uh... hi, Dad."
There was a rather uncomfortable pause. The man she'd called her father took half a step forward, almost as though he wanted to approach, but something halted him, and he remained where he was.
When the silence had lasted a moment too long, Vareth stepped in. "Perhaps introductions should take place inside?" He glanced at the older man, who hadn't taken his eyes off Khari, and cleared his throat softly.
That seemed to snap him out of it, a bit, and he nodded. "Right, of course. Please, dismount. Vareth will see to your horses. And everyone else will go back to what they were doing, I'm sure." It didn't take more than that, delivered with a slight undertone of steel, for the others to resume whatever they'd been at, though even this didn't stop frequent aside glances in their general direction.
Khari slid from her horse, handing him over to Vareth without complaint. The other elf said something to her, too quietly for Romulus to hear, but the tone of it seemed vaguely conciliatory. He collected Romulus's mount as well, leading them over to a pen with several halla in it, including his own.
She herself turned to him for a moment, shooting an apprehensive glance at her father. “Well... here goes, I guess." He could see her hand curl into a fist for a moment before she loosened it again, holding herself as tall as her rather unimpressive height would let her and leading the way over. Together, they moved wordlessly towards one of the tentlike enclosures, no larger than the rest of them. Khari's father lifted the fabric over the entrance. gesturing both of them in before him, offering Romulus an uncertain-looking smile.
The interior was rather plain. The floor was blanketed in furs, including a very large brown bear pelt and several others belonging either to predator species or deer. There were two low wooden trunks against the caravan side of the enclosure, resting next to one another, and a larger pile of stacked blankets and furs near those. A wooden table, circular and of height to be sat at, occupied the middle.
A woman was there already, an ivory-colored needle in one hand and some kind of green fabric in another. She glanced up when they entered, clearly recognizing Khari immediately. But she said nothing, merely setting her work aside and pursing her lips slightly. Her hair and eyes were quite dark, the vallaslin on her face light blue, seemingly based on a pattern of three upwards-pointed arrows, with curling vines just beneath her eyes and at her temples. The pattern was marred by several scars on the left side of her face. It was also obvious from the way she sat that the leg on the same side was gone below the knee.
“Mom." Khari said it flatly, but quietly, something about her proud posture from earlier deflating somewhat under the woman's sharp eyes.
Behind them, her father stepped inside. "Please, both of you have a seat." He moved around to the same side of the table as his wife, settling down about a foot to her right and waiting for them to do the same before he continued. His eyes met Romulus's. "Forgive me the discourtesy. My name is Hawen Istimaethoriel, Keeper of Clan Genardalia. This is Enania, our chief craftsperson. I understand we have you to thank for the reclamation of Var Bellanaris from its... undead occupant." He offered a hand across the table, freely enough, though there was caution in his body language.
Romulus took the hand and shook it, hoping any awkwardness in his motions would be perceived as just that, rather than some kind of distaste or defensiveness. "Romulus, Inquisitor. And a friend of Khari's." He felt that was important to include, especially to her parents. He wasn't here on any formal business of being Inquisitor, and didn't intend to use his position for anything if he didn't have to. He was here for Khari, and little else. "There were others that helped us slay the Revenant, but... yes. I closed the rift there. It's good to meet you, Hawen. Enania." He offered Khari's mother a nod, probably more tersely than he meant to. Her greeting, or lack thereof, felt a bit more uncomfortable to him than the way Hawen had received the sight of Khari.
"And you." Hawen seemed to relax fractionally. "I have to confess, when Vareth told me Kharisanna was in the company of the Inquisition, I was... alarmed. At least after the shock had settled, I suppose." He swallowed, throat working visibly, then shook his head. "I suppose that much at least isn't too surprising, now that I think of it." He let his hand fall back to his knee.
“How's... everything?" Khari squirmed a little in her seat, not quite able to look at either one of them. “Vareth mentioned the warriors, and then we found them, uh... you know. In Var Bellanaris. But everyone else?"
"Care about that now, do you?" Enania immediately looked like she regretted saying it, a grimace pulling at the scars on her face, but she neither took the words back nor apologized. Khari's teeth clicked together audibly—either she was biting back a reply or she'd been effectively silenced by the remark itself. It was hard to say which.
"The others are well." Hawen interceded before anything else could be said. "Of course the losses have hurt, but the month between has given us time to begin to heal, as we must. Being able to properly inter them will of course help. You've done us a great service in helping to see them returned." He seemed to be speaking equally to all three of them, leaving his tone to linger somewhat nebulously between three distinct valences, from respectful informativeness through uneasy encouragement to something sharper. "And Vareth did the right thing in inviting you back here. It is good to see you, Kharisanna."
Khari's expression was just as unsure as Hawen's; both of them were clearly treading unfamiliar ground about as carefully as they could. The resemblance was actually quite keen in that moment, between them. “Thanks." She mumbled it more than anything, glancing fixedly at the table in front of her.
"Elasha married Oren. They've a daughter." This time, Enania's tone was softer, though there was still something too pointed in it, like she struggled to remove the steelier notes as a matter of habit. "Barildal passed three summers ago. Manaran is hahren now."
Khari nodded slightly. “I'm sure he's good at it."
Enania hesitated, then inclined her head in return. "He is."
Hawen had gone very quiet over the course of the exchange, but now that it appeared to be over, he reentered the conversation carefully. "I'm sure no few of them will want to speak with you over the course of the evening, but... how have you been, da'len? How is it that you found yourself with the Inquisition?"
Khari shrugged. “I, uh... spent some time training. With a chevalier." Enania's expression twisted into a frown, but Hawen gave no more reaction than a slight furrow of his brow. “Once I was done there, I kinda wandered around for a while. Entered a few melees, stuff like that. Er... a melee is this kind of contest where a bunch of people are thrown into a ring together and fight to last person standing, basically. I won a couple of those, but it didn't really feel right. Eventually, you know, that whole thing happened with the Breach—that's the big green thing in the sky, I'm sure you heard about it—and I was close enough to see it at the time, so I went and volunteered. Now I just fight stuff for them, I guess."
"She fights very well," Romulus added, after briefly clearing his throat. He'd been struggling to find any sort of place to enter the conversation, and wondering if he even should. Every word exchanged between Khari and her mother seemed to carry a threat of an argument behind it, but for now any more biting thoughts they had were kept locked behind their teeth. He didn't want to be responsible for breaking them loose. But he also didn't want Khari to sell herself short here, or let her parents think she was any less valuable to the Inquisition than she was. "I owe my life to her, actually, on more than one occasion. I... don't think I've ever met anyone as determined."
If anything, Khari looked even more awkward then, but she did remove her eyes from the table long enough to meet his, a very small smile tugging at one corer of her mouth.
Hawen huffed, the beginning of a laugh that never quite materialized. "Now that, I do not find surprising at all." His expression sobered a moment later, though. "We have heard little, aside from the obvious. New tears in the Veil, opening across the world and spewing forth demons and creatures that possess the bodies of the dead. Stopping that... it's a noble cause. Perhaps there is none nobler. I would that we had anything to offer you by way of assistance, but..."
“You do, though." Khari sounded firmer than she had since they entered the camp. “You've got... you've got me. I'm there. I'm helping. It's probably hard to believe I'm good at anything, because I never was when I was here, but... I'm good at this. By the time we're done, the clan will have had more to do with it than any of the rest of them. You'll see."
Her father tilted his head to the side. When he spoke, his words were careful. "I wasn't aware you still considered yourself one of us. Wasn't that what you meant, when you left?"
“I—" Khari grimaced. “No. It's not. That was..." She pushed out a frustrated breath, putting her hands on her knees and squeezing. “I couldn't stay. I don't... I don't belong here. But that doesn't mean you're not still my clan. Still my family, does it? Why does it have to be everything or nothing? Can't I be the person I want to be and your daughter? Would that really be so bad?"
"Our dead daughter?" Unfortunately, it seemed that the tense peace was not to last. Enania's words were laden with contained anger and, it seemed, a great deal of hurt. "We aren't the ones who made it nothing, Kharisanna. You did that, when you left without so much as a word."
“Yeah? And what was I supposed to do instead, mom? Tell you for the millionth time that I didn't want to be a hunter, or a craftsperson, or Vareth's wife? That I had dreams for myself that were bigger than that? Because it worked so well every other time I tried to get it across, right? Let's be honest: I disappointed you from the beginning. I had no magic, no skills, nothing you care about, and it was easier for you that I was dead, instead of fighting everything you wanted for me." Khari's face had turned blotchy red under her freckles and vallaslin; she looked about halfway to leaving the tent right there.
"It was!" Enania's voice cut across anything else Khari might have said. "It was easier that you were dead." Her tone quieted; she looked to be shaking, though whether in anger or something else was unclear. "Because then at least I knew you hadn't simply hated all of this so much that you'd let us believe it regardless." She pulled in a breath, expression hard. "At least then I believed we mattered enough that you'd come back eventually if you could."
Romulus could hear Khari grinding her teeth. “I'm here now, aren't I? Regretting it, though." She stood abruptly. “I can smell dinner. Let's get something to eat, Rom." She shoved gracelessly at the tent flap, pausing just long enough to glance back at him.
Romulus looked rather uncomfortably after her as she left, but then Khari was gone, and he was alone with her parents. He'd braced himself well throughout the fight, unconsciously taking on a demeanor not unlike his time as a slave. Standing in a corner, eyes down, hands to himself, while Chryseis unleashed her fury on someone. All those times he simply had wanted to remain unseen, invisible to all, to not be brought into it in any way. And he almost always got his wish. This time, he found himself wanting to say things, but never able, either because he thought they'd make it worse, or because he just couldn't get them out. Didn't have the courage for it.
Now there was nothing but silence, and it fell to him to fill it. He might've said a dozen things to Hawen or Enania, but none of them made it to his tongue. "Excuse me," he said quietly, pushing his chair back and offering them a nod. He then turned and made his way out of the tent behind Khari.
It wasn't a threat, necessarily, since the Keeper's First was with them. That alone was enough to grant them safe passage. But Romulus was well aware that other scouts, hunters of Khari's clan were keeping a close watch on them. Him especially, no doubt. He rode easily enough, not even letting on that he knew he was being watched. At least, he seemed as at ease as he was capable of. For once, he actually looked less tense than Khari did. He knew he felt it, too. His nervousness was of a different kind.
He worried that he wouldn't know how to help Khari here. This was not a situation he'd ever encountered before, helping a friend face their past like this. A past they claimed they didn't want to see again. Romulus had always expected that wasn't quite true of Khari, but he wasn't the type to push. He worried he wasn't the type to comfort, either. That was usually what Khari did, saying what needed to be said, what he and any of her other friends needed to hear. Seeing her tense, seeing her doubt... it had a way of unsettling him.
If nothing else, he was resolved to at least be here for her, and do his best to see what way he could assist. Even if it just meant standing quietly at her side. He couldn't help but feel that someday he would have to face his own past again. Their cases weren't remotely similar, but one thing was the same: he didn't think he could face that alone, either.
Vareth rode some distance ahead of them, never getting out of sight. Romulus had made no attempt to keep at his halla's side, rather deliberately trying to fall back, and Khari as before didn't go out of her way to speak with the First. Vareth respected the distance, perhaps simply to keep the bodies away from their immediate proximity. He had wrapped them in plant matter, a task Romulus did not envy, and tied them down to the back of his halla. The stench was lessened somewhat now that they were removed from the still air of the tomb, but it was still hard to miss.
"For what it's worth," he said to Khari, quietly enough to avoid being heard by Vareth, or any of the hidden scouts watching them, "I think you're doing the right thing. Seeing them." He didn't know how much his own judgement could be counted for. His decision making had a way of leading him astray. But he felt pretty certain about this. She'd left this life behind with an unclean tear, and now she had a chance to rectify that. Not mend the cut, Romulus didn't think that would ever happen... but a chance at least to make it clean, and something she didn't have to look back on with doubt or guilt.
Khari glanced at him, her expression pinched. She did not sit as comfortably on her horse as usual, and the animal seemed to sense that something was wrong, from the uneasy way he moved. After he shied at the snapping of a branch underfoot, she seemed to realize the cause of his disquiet and forced herself to relax a little. “Maybe." She didn't sound convinced, but her tone wasn't exactly skeptical either. Certainly not the same stubborn insistence she'd used the first time the topic had come up, when they were searching for her mentor. “I just... I really hope this isn't a mistake."
Ahead of them, Vareth pulled up, turning on his halla's back and waiting for them both to come within comfortable earshot. "Camp's just through here. They know we're coming by now, but I'll go first anyway. Give it about five minutes or so, and then follow. I'm sure Khari still knows where it is."
She nodded, more a little downwards jerk of her head than anything. He smiled slightly, then turned back to face forward, nudging the halla forwards with his legs. His absence left the two of them in silence. Khari sighed heavily and leaned herself forward to rest against her horse's neck. “He's changed." The observation was cautious, almost as though she wasn't sure what to think about it. “Used to be he asked permission where I asked forgiveness. I wonder what else has changed."
"You have, for one." Romulus nudged his horse a little closer beside hers, shortening the distance until he could comfortably reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe they won't be as mortified as you think, to see what you've become." Maybe they would be. But if that happened, they would deal with it, and if the worst came to pass, they weren't prisoners here, and had hopefully earned themselves some good will for defeating the Revenant and restoring peace to Var Bellanaris. They could leave whenever they wanted to.
She snorted softly, turning her face so that her cheek was pressed to the horse's neck and she was looking at him instead. “Guess we should go find out, huh?" She sat back up, a brief half-smile flitting across her face before it was gone. “Worst-case scenario, I have an epic shouting match with my mom and you get to learn a bunch of really excellent elven cusswords, so... I guess that wouldn't be too bad."
Despite her tone, she pulled in a deep breath before picking up the reins. “All right... follow me, then." She nudged the animal forward, pointing him down an almost-invisible trail between a pair of trees, the same one Vareth had used. It narrowed considerably at points, explaining the need for a single file line. The terrain was clearly not made for the horses, but they handled it well enough, and in time, an encampment slowly became visible between the trunks of trees.
It was well-blended, even as close as they were, but by the time Khari had guided them to the larger gap in the treeline that served as entrance, the layout was clearly visible. There were caravans, of a sort, apparently styled after boats more than anything, including sails, drooped now in the absence of any breeze. They looked solid and perhaps even watertight, as though they might sometimes be boats. That might be sensible, if the clan ever found itself with the need to ford a river. For now, though, they were on wheels, settled comfortably to the ground with stakes, cloth shelters folded out of them like more elaborate tents.
There was a large fire pit at the center of the camp, several elves arranged around it. Two were carving the body of a large animal—a deer or something similar. Others worked at wooden tables set up near the caravans, with assortments of tools Romulus had never seen before, probably a reflection of the materials they worked. Almost to a one, they'd paused in whatever they were doing to observe the visitors; more than one wore a look of open surprise.
Khari's attention, however, had snapped to the man standing next to Vareth nearest the entrance. He was tall, as far as elves went, perhaps the same height as Romulus. Though his hair, worn long, was liberally streaked with grey, it was clearly at base the same color as Khari's, an almost flame-red hue. His vallaslin were very dark green, in a pattern of climbing vines, offsetting his eyes, which were a lighter, catlike green. He carried a pale staff, simple in design, with a blade at the bottom end and some kind of red crystal set in the top.
"Kharisanna." He breathed the word like he didn't believe it. "Da'len."
Khari shifted awkwardly in her saddle, clearing her throat.
“Uh... hi, Dad."
There was a rather uncomfortable pause. The man she'd called her father took half a step forward, almost as though he wanted to approach, but something halted him, and he remained where he was.
When the silence had lasted a moment too long, Vareth stepped in. "Perhaps introductions should take place inside?" He glanced at the older man, who hadn't taken his eyes off Khari, and cleared his throat softly.
That seemed to snap him out of it, a bit, and he nodded. "Right, of course. Please, dismount. Vareth will see to your horses. And everyone else will go back to what they were doing, I'm sure." It didn't take more than that, delivered with a slight undertone of steel, for the others to resume whatever they'd been at, though even this didn't stop frequent aside glances in their general direction.
Khari slid from her horse, handing him over to Vareth without complaint. The other elf said something to her, too quietly for Romulus to hear, but the tone of it seemed vaguely conciliatory. He collected Romulus's mount as well, leading them over to a pen with several halla in it, including his own.
She herself turned to him for a moment, shooting an apprehensive glance at her father. “Well... here goes, I guess." He could see her hand curl into a fist for a moment before she loosened it again, holding herself as tall as her rather unimpressive height would let her and leading the way over. Together, they moved wordlessly towards one of the tentlike enclosures, no larger than the rest of them. Khari's father lifted the fabric over the entrance. gesturing both of them in before him, offering Romulus an uncertain-looking smile.
The interior was rather plain. The floor was blanketed in furs, including a very large brown bear pelt and several others belonging either to predator species or deer. There were two low wooden trunks against the caravan side of the enclosure, resting next to one another, and a larger pile of stacked blankets and furs near those. A wooden table, circular and of height to be sat at, occupied the middle.
A woman was there already, an ivory-colored needle in one hand and some kind of green fabric in another. She glanced up when they entered, clearly recognizing Khari immediately. But she said nothing, merely setting her work aside and pursing her lips slightly. Her hair and eyes were quite dark, the vallaslin on her face light blue, seemingly based on a pattern of three upwards-pointed arrows, with curling vines just beneath her eyes and at her temples. The pattern was marred by several scars on the left side of her face. It was also obvious from the way she sat that the leg on the same side was gone below the knee.
“Mom." Khari said it flatly, but quietly, something about her proud posture from earlier deflating somewhat under the woman's sharp eyes.
Behind them, her father stepped inside. "Please, both of you have a seat." He moved around to the same side of the table as his wife, settling down about a foot to her right and waiting for them to do the same before he continued. His eyes met Romulus's. "Forgive me the discourtesy. My name is Hawen Istimaethoriel, Keeper of Clan Genardalia. This is Enania, our chief craftsperson. I understand we have you to thank for the reclamation of Var Bellanaris from its... undead occupant." He offered a hand across the table, freely enough, though there was caution in his body language.
Romulus took the hand and shook it, hoping any awkwardness in his motions would be perceived as just that, rather than some kind of distaste or defensiveness. "Romulus, Inquisitor. And a friend of Khari's." He felt that was important to include, especially to her parents. He wasn't here on any formal business of being Inquisitor, and didn't intend to use his position for anything if he didn't have to. He was here for Khari, and little else. "There were others that helped us slay the Revenant, but... yes. I closed the rift there. It's good to meet you, Hawen. Enania." He offered Khari's mother a nod, probably more tersely than he meant to. Her greeting, or lack thereof, felt a bit more uncomfortable to him than the way Hawen had received the sight of Khari.
"And you." Hawen seemed to relax fractionally. "I have to confess, when Vareth told me Kharisanna was in the company of the Inquisition, I was... alarmed. At least after the shock had settled, I suppose." He swallowed, throat working visibly, then shook his head. "I suppose that much at least isn't too surprising, now that I think of it." He let his hand fall back to his knee.
“How's... everything?" Khari squirmed a little in her seat, not quite able to look at either one of them. “Vareth mentioned the warriors, and then we found them, uh... you know. In Var Bellanaris. But everyone else?"
"Care about that now, do you?" Enania immediately looked like she regretted saying it, a grimace pulling at the scars on her face, but she neither took the words back nor apologized. Khari's teeth clicked together audibly—either she was biting back a reply or she'd been effectively silenced by the remark itself. It was hard to say which.
"The others are well." Hawen interceded before anything else could be said. "Of course the losses have hurt, but the month between has given us time to begin to heal, as we must. Being able to properly inter them will of course help. You've done us a great service in helping to see them returned." He seemed to be speaking equally to all three of them, leaving his tone to linger somewhat nebulously between three distinct valences, from respectful informativeness through uneasy encouragement to something sharper. "And Vareth did the right thing in inviting you back here. It is good to see you, Kharisanna."
Khari's expression was just as unsure as Hawen's; both of them were clearly treading unfamiliar ground about as carefully as they could. The resemblance was actually quite keen in that moment, between them. “Thanks." She mumbled it more than anything, glancing fixedly at the table in front of her.
"Elasha married Oren. They've a daughter." This time, Enania's tone was softer, though there was still something too pointed in it, like she struggled to remove the steelier notes as a matter of habit. "Barildal passed three summers ago. Manaran is hahren now."
Khari nodded slightly. “I'm sure he's good at it."
Enania hesitated, then inclined her head in return. "He is."
Hawen had gone very quiet over the course of the exchange, but now that it appeared to be over, he reentered the conversation carefully. "I'm sure no few of them will want to speak with you over the course of the evening, but... how have you been, da'len? How is it that you found yourself with the Inquisition?"
Khari shrugged. “I, uh... spent some time training. With a chevalier." Enania's expression twisted into a frown, but Hawen gave no more reaction than a slight furrow of his brow. “Once I was done there, I kinda wandered around for a while. Entered a few melees, stuff like that. Er... a melee is this kind of contest where a bunch of people are thrown into a ring together and fight to last person standing, basically. I won a couple of those, but it didn't really feel right. Eventually, you know, that whole thing happened with the Breach—that's the big green thing in the sky, I'm sure you heard about it—and I was close enough to see it at the time, so I went and volunteered. Now I just fight stuff for them, I guess."
"She fights very well," Romulus added, after briefly clearing his throat. He'd been struggling to find any sort of place to enter the conversation, and wondering if he even should. Every word exchanged between Khari and her mother seemed to carry a threat of an argument behind it, but for now any more biting thoughts they had were kept locked behind their teeth. He didn't want to be responsible for breaking them loose. But he also didn't want Khari to sell herself short here, or let her parents think she was any less valuable to the Inquisition than she was. "I owe my life to her, actually, on more than one occasion. I... don't think I've ever met anyone as determined."
If anything, Khari looked even more awkward then, but she did remove her eyes from the table long enough to meet his, a very small smile tugging at one corer of her mouth.
Hawen huffed, the beginning of a laugh that never quite materialized. "Now that, I do not find surprising at all." His expression sobered a moment later, though. "We have heard little, aside from the obvious. New tears in the Veil, opening across the world and spewing forth demons and creatures that possess the bodies of the dead. Stopping that... it's a noble cause. Perhaps there is none nobler. I would that we had anything to offer you by way of assistance, but..."
“You do, though." Khari sounded firmer than she had since they entered the camp. “You've got... you've got me. I'm there. I'm helping. It's probably hard to believe I'm good at anything, because I never was when I was here, but... I'm good at this. By the time we're done, the clan will have had more to do with it than any of the rest of them. You'll see."
Her father tilted his head to the side. When he spoke, his words were careful. "I wasn't aware you still considered yourself one of us. Wasn't that what you meant, when you left?"
“I—" Khari grimaced. “No. It's not. That was..." She pushed out a frustrated breath, putting her hands on her knees and squeezing. “I couldn't stay. I don't... I don't belong here. But that doesn't mean you're not still my clan. Still my family, does it? Why does it have to be everything or nothing? Can't I be the person I want to be and your daughter? Would that really be so bad?"
"Our dead daughter?" Unfortunately, it seemed that the tense peace was not to last. Enania's words were laden with contained anger and, it seemed, a great deal of hurt. "We aren't the ones who made it nothing, Kharisanna. You did that, when you left without so much as a word."
“Yeah? And what was I supposed to do instead, mom? Tell you for the millionth time that I didn't want to be a hunter, or a craftsperson, or Vareth's wife? That I had dreams for myself that were bigger than that? Because it worked so well every other time I tried to get it across, right? Let's be honest: I disappointed you from the beginning. I had no magic, no skills, nothing you care about, and it was easier for you that I was dead, instead of fighting everything you wanted for me." Khari's face had turned blotchy red under her freckles and vallaslin; she looked about halfway to leaving the tent right there.
"It was!" Enania's voice cut across anything else Khari might have said. "It was easier that you were dead." Her tone quieted; she looked to be shaking, though whether in anger or something else was unclear. "Because then at least I knew you hadn't simply hated all of this so much that you'd let us believe it regardless." She pulled in a breath, expression hard. "At least then I believed we mattered enough that you'd come back eventually if you could."
Romulus could hear Khari grinding her teeth. “I'm here now, aren't I? Regretting it, though." She stood abruptly. “I can smell dinner. Let's get something to eat, Rom." She shoved gracelessly at the tent flap, pausing just long enough to glance back at him.
Romulus looked rather uncomfortably after her as she left, but then Khari was gone, and he was alone with her parents. He'd braced himself well throughout the fight, unconsciously taking on a demeanor not unlike his time as a slave. Standing in a corner, eyes down, hands to himself, while Chryseis unleashed her fury on someone. All those times he simply had wanted to remain unseen, invisible to all, to not be brought into it in any way. And he almost always got his wish. This time, he found himself wanting to say things, but never able, either because he thought they'd make it worse, or because he just couldn't get them out. Didn't have the courage for it.
Now there was nothing but silence, and it fell to him to fill it. He might've said a dozen things to Hawen or Enania, but none of them made it to his tongue. "Excuse me," he said quietly, pushing his chair back and offering them a nod. He then turned and made his way out of the tent behind Khari.