Epicenter of the Sun

Nephele

My ruptured lungs, they were left this way
For once I'm out of breath

Home at last.

Perhaps not in her personal abode, tucked away between her tomes and tinkering equipment, but back in the Greatwood at last. There is so much to do; meeting with those she had left behind, getting up to date on news and interactions, determining the general state of affairs of her kin. But first...well, the merchants had been delighted to see her again, and more than happy to tell her of the new, distinctly not-Fae man who had moved his forge into their midst. They have nothing negative to say about him beyond the natural distaste for humans and their encroaching ways, but it’s a good first stop in Nephele’s mind.

With their directions it’s not difficult to find the forge itself. The structure is definitely more human, rooted firmly to the ground instead of built into the trees and surrounding environment. Drifting down from the canopy, Nephele tosses her braid over her shoulder - it has grown even longer during her travels - and moves on whispering steps to the front of the building that looks less residential in nature. “Is the forge master here?” Her voice rings out, confident and lightly accented as she darkens the doorway fearlessly.

The truth I seek never felt so bleak
but i maintain my depth

OLIVER

Steady hands had been working at one of the objects. Just taken off of the fire and complete, he was wiping it down. Polishing the object and getting it ready for sale. A small knife, perfect for fitting into a pocket. To go with it was a matching holder that had been hand sewn from leather. It wasn’t much, but it would hopefully get him a good trade, potentially some meat or more materials for future projects.

His eyes were drawn away when a voice called out, requesting for the owner not by name. He glances over to see one of the most important Fae- Nephele. Well. That meant he was probably in trouble. Time to get shoved into a pit.

”I am him.” The blade was set down on his work bench and Oliver walks over, offering out his hand. ”I am Oliver, how can I be of service?” While his hands were clean, his hair was covered in ash, as were his legs. Obviously, he had been working in the shop for a while today, only taking the time to wipe off the most important parts.

Isn't it amazing

How we can never tell

Who is in an identical hell

Nephele

My ruptured lungs, they were left this way
For once I'm out of breath

The blond head appears, strands of hair sticking to pale skin perspiring from activity and the heat of the forge. Nephele's eyes drag over the man from head to toe, confirming his familiarity from that afternoon on the outskirts of the forest. Her hazel eyes are attracted to the glint off the metal he had been working with as it is set aside, but like a predator it snaps straight back to his hand as it is extended. For all her general dislike of humans, there is no hesitation as she steps forward to grasp his hand, shaking firmly.

"I am Nephele. I have been away from the Greatwood, and heard of your return when I arrived. I have need of your particular talents, if you are open to bargaining?" No time is wasted with pleasantries. It is simply not her way. But her head tilts in a birdlike manner, eyes sharp and assessing, ready to get down to business. It is a compliment unto itself that she considers his work up to snuff for her needs, and that she does not disparage him for moving into the Greatwood, but he must read those from her silence if he is to feel the weight of them.

The truth I seek never felt so bleak
but i maintain my depth