[SE] Roads we walk in the dark

He taste-tested their meal first before deciding it was acceptable enough to feed to another, and it gave him time to consider how her question had changed. "You asked how Ancients differed," he said slowly. "We are all different from each other. Each race. But we are also similar. Individually." He turned his head towards the pale Ancient where she once again sat curled in on herself. His expression was neutral as he handed over the chopsticks, though he tilted his chin curiously. "But that does not sound like what you want to hear."

He nodded with far more grace in answer to her question, reaching over briefly to help position her fingers on the sticks. "Hold it in the broth until the meat darkens," he instructed. "The longer it is in, the more it will cook through." It made it easy to control how rare or well done one preferred their meat, and with how thin it was it cooked swiftly.

He settled back on his knees to listen to her fears, patient and willing to let her take her time getting it all out. He did not look particularly sympathetic, but neither did he accuse her or pull away, simply accepting her words and letting them sit between them amidst the crackle of the small fire and the soft bubbling of the pot.

"Mmh. How is being an Ancient different than being an Ascended?"

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

It wasn't. It was. Being different meant there were no rules that applied to all, no right answers, no frame of reference to lean on in a changing world. It meant no one was right or wrong, that everyone could make up their own truths and the only way to tell if it was just was by deciding if you agreed or not. It meant she had to decide for herself whether it was alright to make a meal out of a prisoner, whether a person could be both monster and friend, whether she could live with being something other than what her father had raised her to be. 

And all the responsibility of her choices would lie squarely upon herself. A very different way to live from the obedient, devout follower she had been in her youth. It was beyond frightening.

Her slice of pyrina barely entered the pot before Maea withdrew it. She didn't bother blowing on it before putting it in her mouth, conscious of the lingering warmth on her hand after being touched. The flavor of the broth was mild but subtle, adding to the natural flavor of the meat rather than obscuring it. She tried a piece of mushroom next, struggling with the chopsticks and nearly dropping everything into the campfire. It was good. "It's very good." More than just a little. Tearing up out of nowhere, it was silly but something about all of this really got to her. Softening hard surface in her heart she'd thought beyond salvaging.

How was it different from being Ascended? "Like day and night," she admitted, rubbing at her eyes. "I couldn't feel heat or cold, couldn't taste, smell or even really feel at all. Any physical feedback was muffled, a dry and dispassionate line of information only. You would think it would be nice to feel no pain... but it made me careless, and cold, and numb. Being Ancient... is the opposite. Or maybe it just seems that way after being numb for so long. It is... overwhelming." Better, in many ways; she was not sorry for leaving that unaging existence behind.

"Do you think me ungrateful? I'm still alive, I have my health, I've friends and magic and several shifts... It must sound like a lot of whining." He gave away so little in the face of her unburdening. Whatever he was thinking was hidden well, and it made her falter, suddenly uncertain. Was she really the only one who worried about these things? Wasit really non-issues, pointless hemming and hawing that didn't matter to anyone else?

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

He inclined his head in pleased acknowledgment of the compliment, the hint of a smile finally warming the corners of his eyes to see her eating food they had prepared together. The tears in her eyes were met with a silent understanding and he turned his attention to the next slice of meat, picking it up in his fingers and dipping it carefully into the boiling pot.

He listened to her answer, and learned more of what life had been for her. What it had become. What it meant to her now, after all she had been through.

He pulled the strip of meat out - mostly cooked through, except where his fingers had pinched it - and ate it, chewing slowly. What he thought he kept to himself for the moment, unwilling to judge one way or the other without knowing more.

"Has it been worth it? Changing from Ascended to Ancient?" Isla, he recalled, had remained an Ascended for many seasons after the Voice had been vanquished. Though in the end she, too, had made the choice to become something new.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Noticing that he used his fingers near the boiling broth, Maea offered the chopsticks back to Hadama. Mer he may be, and a natural in water, but she was the fireproof one.

"Mh. In moments like these, sure." Wrapping a slice of meat around a mushroom, she submerged the morsel into the pleasant churn of liquid and watched for the color is to change. "And in the grand scheme, yes. I'm still alive, after all. Even though I feel like I shouldn't be... at this point, after everything I've done to cling to existence, I just have to keep going. Preferably doing as little damage as possible."

Shrugging lightly, she brought the food to her lips and chewed slowly. A scent of herbs clung to her fingers, the skin ever so slightly shimmery with grease. Contentment warred with guilt, complex dichotomies clashing over the simmering broth. Meat she had provided settling slowly in her stomach, warming her from the inside; questioning the certainty of her beliefs, the validity of her fears and worries. Was it technically any different, enjoying a meal like this, versus enjoying it off the bone? Whether as a tiger, crow or in her own skin? What in the ritual of reparation and consumption made one way more okay than the other? It was confusing, and she didn't find any answers; only vague sentiment that suggested there should be a difference.

Maea sighed. "Have you ever hunted for food?"

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

He received his chopsticks back with a gracious inclination of his head. It made it easier to share the meal now that they could both eat together, and he plucked another mushroom slice from the pile for himself. Watching Maea fold the flavors together he gave an approving nod and listened to her answer.

He nodded in acceptance of it, daintily eating his cooked mushroom while the spoke. The flavor of the broth was already beginning to deepen as more meat was dipped in it, and it made the mushrooms being cooked more flavorful as well, as he had hoped. But hearing her intention to persevere in spite of her existential quandary was reassuring.

"Mmh. And eaten it live, in my shifted form," he said serenely. She might have been asking him if he ever ate kelp or wore long-sleeved shirts for all the emotional weight he gave his answer. In truth he might have found the shirts more bothersome. "Would it change how you see the Mer to know that we eat most of our meat raw?" Fire being somewhat uncommon at the bottom of the sea.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Adjusting her seat and folding her legs beneath her, the lazy curl of Maea's tail betrayed her comfort even if she didn't admit to it out loud. It was a companionable setting, made so by Hadama's stalwart refusal to let her spiral with her confessions. She didn't even realize that her replies became less and less fraught, how her shoulders were coming down, or to what extent the comfort of a cooked meal was improving her mood. Maybe she had not been starving her body, all these months, but the soul... oh, how she had deprived that of anything even resembling grace.

She made an effort to match pace with Hadama so she wouldn't eat all the food on her own. Pausing on occasion to sip of the clear water from the spring, she hesitated a moment before replying.
"Not less, no. It does adjust my perception, though. You've always seemed so peaceful, to me. I guess I thought it was the same for all mer. That most, if not all of you were more vegetarian in nature. I suppose it makes more sense, this way..." It betrayed her lacking knowledge of the ocean, if nothing else. She had always seen it as an abundant place, lush with vegetation and options the way a forest might be, where herbivores roamed numerous and predators were outnumbered by far.

Cocking her head aside, she regarded him with new eyes. "Did I ever see that shift?" She thought not, he'd only really mentioned the manta before, and suddenly she was curious. "You don't find the concept of people being eaten upsetting at all?" It was beyond surprising how many shrugs she was met with on the subject. That Danta or Asta wouldn't care was one thing, but first Sunjata, then Remi and now Hadama all seemed so calm about it that Maea began to wonder if she was the odd one for making such a big deal out of it.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

Hadama did not look at Maea directly often, giving her space to think about her answers without rush or pressure, but he did notice her body language and it affected his own. The Tidebreaker began to relax from stoic to serene as the Ancient found herself on steadier footing and as the good food warmed their bellies and soothed their souls. He ate slowly, but made encouraging motions when he noticed her slowing as well so that Maea would continue while he took his time. They had plenty of meat, and as long as they were sparing with the mushrooms they could have a full meal until they were both sated.

"Hmm." He did not quite laugh, but his lips twitched upwards at her admission. "Not even most fish are... vegetarian." The word was not a common one below the waves. "Though some mer make that choice. We eat a great many fish. Crustaceans. Shellfish. In addition to kelps and seaweeds." Her question finally drew a quiet rumble from his chest that was the ghost of a laugh as he nodded. "I have hunted fish in my manta form. In the depths there is little else to eat." Though it was not a sight most humans ever saw a manta doing, relegated to the sunlight zone as non-Attuned typically were.

Her last question had the humor fading as he tilted his head at her. "I do not consider people to be 'meat,'" he said slowly. "Eating them is... upsetting, yes. Does Dygra require Ancients to eat humans?" Or Fae. Or Mer, for that matter, though it seemed unlikely that an Ancient would dare to delve deep enough into the water to try when they were as susceptible to drowning as most landwalkers.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Intrigued, she was of a mind to keep asking questions about the world beneath the waves, because it was a world she had never explored. Unfortunately, her own inquiry ruined the mood, and with a slight grimace Maea turned her gaze back to the meal.

"Not exactly requires... but apparently it is not discouraged, either. In the midst of the bloodlust, there is no distinction. Actually, the harder of a kill it is, the more satisfying it seems to be. It's why I'm so worried... I don't ever want to end up in a position where a mistake could be made."

Maybe she had been too circumspect when describing her concerns. It was a distasteful subject, especially over a meal, but she had assumed Hadama knew what she was talking about. Of course, on a deeper level it did beg the question why animals were acceptable to hunt while humans were not, but it wasn't a nuance she was too keen on exploring. Maea had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

The grisly discussion did not dissuade the once-Mer from his meal as he continued his slow, steady enjoyment of the meat and mushrooms both. He listened with polite interest as Maea explained some of the finer points of being an Ancient, and when she finished he gave a slow nod in understanding of her fear. "Indeed." He turned his full attention on her for a moment, noting her discomfort over the topic and paused before he continued more slowly. "Then you know where your line is. And you can take precautions against crossing it."

He took a little more time to consider her words, fetching himself a drink from the spring before returning. His calm demeanor had not changed, but he looked at Maea with a gentle weariness in his emerald eyes. "What is the difference between killing someone on accident because of your bloodlust... and killing them from some other lapse in judgment?" He held up a hand to keep her from jumping to conclusions with a slight shake of his head. "I am remembering the tournament, and Sah's accidental killing of Melita as one example."

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Ah, she seemed to be getting through now. He was listening as always but Maea thought he heard her in a another way, now. And once again Hadama surprised her with his patience and tolerance. Relieved, she found it heartening to be talking about solutions, about fixing the problem rather than just adjusting to it.

Maybe she needed to do both, to an extent. But it was difficult to embrace self-love and acceptance when you were afraid of yourself.

This time she examine the question far more open-minded, enthusiasm rekindling along with hope. "It's awareness, isn't it? I know I have the potential to become dangerous. Like you said, I can take precautions. While I can't eliminate the potential för mistakes, with less than changing the nature of this race - " she pointed to herself, indicating the Ancient in her " - I can attempt to minimize risk. Maybe... not isolating all the time, but at least when the bloodlust comes on? I can go where others can't. To the Climb, to some volcano, off into the Wilds. And... perhaps, if it isn't too much to ask... I can ask my friends for help... so I learn to better understand myself, learn the limits of my control...?"

She looked up at Hadama, noting and worrying about the weariness in his eyes, and what it meant. Where did it stem from? Was she the cause, another burden to bear in mind for someone already struggling? It made her sad to think of. Determined too; it wouldn't do to keep going the way she had. If she was serious about doing as little damage as possible during her remaining existence, it was high time to start accepting responsibility and stop looking for excuses to remain in this limbo of inaction. 

Perhaps it wouldn't be an entirely comfortable existence... but who, in truth, lived without some form of struggle? Not even the gods.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

He had a great many reasons for weariness, but watching the life and excitement awaken in Maea's expression as they spoke helped to ease it. As the pale Ancient brightened from the ghost who had drifted out of the shadows in the Cathedral back into a vibrant woman finding hope in her future again, the Mer King breathed more easily and he was able to set aside some of the weight he had been carrying.

"It is not just being an Ancient." He considered the remaining slices of meat with due gravirty before selecting one to dip in the broth that was swiftly becoming soup. "When I was still fully Mer I once came close to drowning a friend on accident while we were sparring. A demigod nearly killed several people on accident when he used his power carelessly." On more than one occasion, in fact. "And I have told you about the tournament. Magic. Bloodlust. Both are dangerous in the wrong circumstances." He lifted his slice of medium rare meat from the boiling water but paused to contemplate it before raising it to his lips, and inclined his head in a warm nod of agreement. "I would be honored to help." He finally allowed himself his bite, taking the time to enjoy it before he spoke again.

"Hmm. When does the bloodlust occur?" He had not interacted with many Ancients since Maea's death and disappearance. He knew little of their species beyond what he had learned from her in the past, but for the sake of helping his friend it was time to learn more.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

And she had killed herself using magic, with a bit of help from Melita's arrows, nearly taking Thalassa with her. When lined up like that, Maea felt both better and worse about the accident. Better because she was not alone in making a mistake. Worse, because it was the kind of mistake she had been raised her whole life to avoid, warned against by the actions of the Voice and admonished by the gods; use her gifts in moderation. And yet. At the slightest hint that everything would be forgiven because her new matron deity was an embodiment of entropy, she just dropped all caution. Listening too much to that siren call of the void, letting caution fly on the wind...

She nodded gravely, wholeheartedly agreeing. It was dangerous. Alluring, beautiful, thrilling - and like every form of power, something to handle with care. "Thank you, I truly appreciate that. It will be a relief, I think, to actually work on improving, instead of fretting about everything that can go wrong. I was, for a while, but then I grew cocky... It's not a mistake I intend to make again."

Starting to feel sated as the supply of mushrooms dwindled, Maea savored some more of the meat just for the pleasure of eating, and tilted her head in thought. "It varies a bit... For me it generally begins towards the middle and end of a season. How quickly it goes away depends on what I hunt. If I don't satisfy it completely, it lingers like an itch, or a craving... At first I tried to keep it that way, thinking it made me more aware of the dangers. Hunting small game and often... But it has been tiring. Keept me on edge. I don't like it either way... Or rather, I dislike that I actually enjoy it, if that makes sense." 

It felt wrong that something violent should feel good. Like she had gone slightly insane, just on the edge of unhinged. And there was a certain allure in the idea of letting go, of ceasing to think, care, try... Would it be so bad to just let herself sink into that blood-soaked darkness? 

No. And therein lay the whole source of her discomfort. That creature lurking on the shadow side was not someone she could take pride in. It was not the Maea Valair she knew.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

"Indeed." The rumble held a note of solemn support, though he withheld judgment on her self reflection. He reached for one of the last mushrooms and folded it carefully into a slice of meat as Maea had done several times, pinching it neatly between the chopsticks before dipping it into the soup to boil. He was more interested in hearing about the bloodlust that was so integral to being an Ancient, and how it affected not only Maea but Thalassa and Isla as well. People he trusted, even knowing the danger they might pose.

As he had pointed out, Ancients were not alone in being dangerous.

"Hmm. There is nothing unusual in enjoying the hunt." He pulled his morsel out of the pot and transferred it to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "The kill... when it is done cleanly and well, there is pride to be taken in that, too." He gestured to the remains of the pyrina carcass with a nod of his chin. "It is when you take pleasure in the suffering that it becomes... precarious." A slippery slope from which few ever seemed to return. Not without being changed almost beyond recognition.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Maea was judgmental enough for the both of them. It was a matter to be addressed in addition to many others, but not, perhaps, today. It was quite enough to have changed her stance this far already, to be sitting in company so long and not once feeling a need to or desire to leave.
Her expression suggested she had some lingering doubts on the morality of taking pride in killing at all, but at least she didn't object. Perhaps she was simply getting tired. Maea wanted to accept what Hadama suggested, there was just so much resistence within. Deeply ingrained, a result of years of internal abuse... the kind of damage it would take more than one conversation to undo.
"Maybe I'll be able to see it that way, some day," she conceded, holding on to hope. "I do hope I won't start that slide. It would be... very bad, I think."

Finishing off the last of the food, she leaned back with a contented sigh. "Thank you for the meal. And for listening. I'm glad we ran into each other... it feels better, now. All of it." Smiling softly at Hadama, she promised to herself that she would return the favor eventually. He looked like he needed to talk, too... but perhaps not right now. In a little while she would help him pack up, collect her jerky, but for the moment it was nice just to sit, worrying about nothing at all.

It was a small thing, but it made all the difference in the world.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3