the ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

Deep down, it’s certainly an attempt to get away from the cold snows of King’s End. But it also has its purposes – the travel toward Frey’s Breath to complete the quest Frey had given him. It also is a boon for the little sea panther that seems far too curious about all these new surroundings, Sunjata having to wrangle his companion away from the dangers while simultaneously working to try and collect some lial blood. A task that has certainly taken its toll, exhaustion overcoming him.

He's thankful to be so close to Frey’s Breath, the immediate diversion toward the pools that will soothe the soreness in his bones, even if the heat is overwhelming. All he has to do is relax for a few minutes before they can head home. Petronella, at least, is overjoyed by the sight of water she can get into, and the kitten scampers along the rock to dive into the hot springs, mewling her delight.

Sunjata’s more graceful, slipping out of the majority of his clothes (they’re already sweaty as is), his bag of holding set next to them where inside holds the lial blood he’d collected, slipping out the book of matches and the pack of cigarettes. He slides into the water opposite of Petronella. The water begins to work, immediately soothing his joints, and he finds a comfortable spot against the wall as Petronella starts to swim around, Sunjata watching her silently for a few moments before he leans backward against the rock, lighting a cigarette before setting the matches back on the rock behind him, and starts to use his magic with his free hand, the water beneath the sea panther begins to move and shift, like she’s the fearsome beast he’d encountered on Torchline’s shores, if only to bolster the sea panther cub’s ego and give into her instincts.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

As soon as he'd turned in his quest to Mother, Edmund had set out to the bloodbath to indulge in his success. Sinking down into the crimson the Ancient submerges down to his collarbones, letting out a content sigh. It's an odd sensation to soak in blood but not unwelcome. It had the fire magic in his blood singing and the tiger beneath his skin rumbling in approval. Perhaps it has to do with Ancient instincts and bloodlust. Regardless, he's content. Meanwhile, Splat floats around curiously. The blood appeals to the Darkling but given that he can't soak, it's useless. Hearing a sound in the distance, the companion lazily bobs through the air towards the commotion. The person is unfamiliar to Splat and is uninteresting in his actions. The cub looks fun though. Whizzing forward, the Darkling circles the head of the cub, the edges of his form rippling to catch her attention. Edmund Reborn In Fire

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

He toys with Petronella, using his magic to push the water this way and that and watches as she uses her instincts and webbed feet to navigate whatever he throws at her. It’s sweet, in a way, and he finds himself smiling despite the continual grief of the companion swimming in the heated waters around him.

At least, smiling until the sea panther catches sight of the Darkling as it dances around her head, mewling curiously before trying to lunch out at the rippling effects in her vision. Sunjata’s attention drifts, though, searching for anyone else that might be around when he spots the new addition that he’d somehow missed on his approach.

It drags him out of the water, confident that Petronella can handle herself while he investigates, only to find a bowl of ruby red and a familiar face settled in it comfortably. “Hey Edmund.” Sunjata says in greeting, offering the young man a smile as mirrored grey eyes peer down at the boy, waiting for him to notice.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Edmund's eyes snap open at the sound of his name but he instantly relaxes upon recognizing the source. "Uncle Jata!" The Demi-god seems unfazed about the blood, and it helps the young Ancient settle more comfortably into conversation. "It's been so long. How have you been?" If memory serves, the last time he saw the man was soon after his rebirth and seasons before his return to Torchline. It's truly been too long of a time to go without seeing the only member of his 'family' who shares his view on Safrin. Having to keep his mouth shut while living in Torchline is irritating at times, to say the least. Sunjata's presence brings a measure of comfort and ease that the Demi-god is likely unaware of. One that is deeply appreciated. Edmund Reborn In Fire

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

The second Edmund’s eyes snap open and grey meets grey, all Sunjata can offer is an easy, lopsided grin to the young man. “It has.” He chuckles lightly, moving around so that he isn’t standing and hovering above the Ancient’s head to stay in his eyesight easier. “I’ve been good, doing better now. How have you been? And what’s this?” He asks, settling in to let the Ancient continue to wade in the literal bloodbath, hoping that he might explain it to him.

He hadn’t seen it the last time he’d been here, but it’s possible that it was crafted in the span of time it’s been since he’d last been to the Climb. Even now, with the roiling heat from this region, Sunjata’s skin shines with sweat from heat and the hot spring behind him where Petronella continues to try and play and bat at Splat – all the while, Sunjata pays it little mind, knowing that the sea panther was far more comfortable in the water than she likely was on land.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Edmund grins, "I'm glad to hear that." The Demi-god had been in a far darker place during their last meeting and the young Ancient had been worried. Hearing that Jata was doing better now had his eyes softening with relief. From what he felt from Splat through the bond, the man also had a companion to keep him company now. The Ancient pat the rim of the bath with a cheeky grin, "It's a bloodbath." Chuckling lightly, he elaborated, "Ancients need to douse themselves in fire or hot blood to get out of stasis. There's fire everywhere in the Climb but not a lot of accessible blood. At least, not in large quantities. Mother helped me create this to change that." He restlessly tapped the rim, not having a jacket on to fiddle with, "But it's also just nice to soak in." Edmund trusted Sunjata with more information on the Ancients, just as he was willing to give Soleil a few facts. Having allies who were knowledgeable in ways to help or prevent harm was valuable. Edmund Reborn In Fire

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

The genuine tone of Edmund’s sparks a soft feeling in his chest – relief that perhaps there were some out there that did wish good things to happen to him despite everything. It’s a balm he needs while he remains feeling raw from all the emotions of the recent weeks.

Regardless, the amused smile continues to stay as he watches Edmund pat the rim of the bloody bath, before he rumbles a soft laugh that has a tone akin to thanks captain obvious, before the young man continues and his amusement fades into genuine curiosity. “Oh wow.” He says for lack of anything else to say, before something else captures his attention – the mention of Mother.

His head tilts slightly avianlike as he looks at the bathtub before returning his silver gaze to the mirroring young man’s. “Not Maeve, I presume?” Just based off of their previous conversations over everything, he infers. “Dygra? I haven’t heard much about her, admittedly.” He prompts, in case Edmund wishes to indulge his curiosities. “Nor much else about the Ancients, either… Do you have magic alongside the shift abilities?” He remembers the shifts from Isla, but he doesn’t recall any magic he’d seen, unless she hadn’t had the ability to use them yet.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Edmund gives a sharp nod, "Correct. Dygra is Mother. Maeve is Mum." It was the easiest way to distinguish his birth and rebirth mothers. A spark of pain appears in his eyes as he adds, "Mum and I still aren't exactly on the same page. We haven't sat down and talked everything through." The undercurrent of unease and unasked questions was nearly physical at times. With a shake of his heat, the young Ancient refocuses on the impromptu lesson. He's always ready to gush about his Mother and his tail curls up happily. "Mother is incredible. She's powerful and generous." Fire from the central pillar of the bath dances in the bloody ripples as Edmund raises a hand from the depths and gestures to their surroundings. "The Climb is hers and the home of the Ancients. Just being here sets me at ease." The bath helps too. His grin returning, Edmund lets the fire surge upward in a demonstration, "Ancients can wield fire." Letting the fire return to its normal height he reluctantly shrugs. "That's all that I'm aware of." It's entirely possible that there were other capabilities that he was yet unaware of. It's also a conscious decision to omit the mention of Glamour. Edmund trusts Sunjata but if that knowledge of that magic got around, any Ancients purposefully living in hiding might be put in danger. The young Ancient isn't aware of any such individuals but he's not going to be the one to out them. Edmund Reborn In Fire

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

“Ah,” comes the simple rumble from the Flood as Edmund explains the names and the correlation. It’s almost funny in a way, given Sunjata’s terms were often far more formal for his actual parents – Shaju was father, and his mother was simply his mother. But, he does shoot an apologetic look toward the young man when it comes to his conversations with Maeve, understanding glimmering in the steel of his gaze. “Funnily enough, I would say I had been in the same boat with your… Mum, before you were born.” He doesn’t know if it will lead to any questions regarding that, but Edmund’s old enough now to know and understand.

Regardless, he draws quiet the second Edmund starts to describe what Dygra is like, breaking his eye contact to look around Frey’s Breath to see the rocky outcropping, to hear that ultimately the rest of the Climb was Dygra’s. It made sense to him, even if he assumed that this particular part still belonged to Frey. That was neither here nor there, though, because soon enough Edmund’s grinning and a ball of flame surges upward as he shows him and the young man’s grin is reflected in his own face as he watches it. “Well, that’s definitely not nothing.” Shifts and magic, not unlike a abandoned attuned hybrid, if not a bit more thematic.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Edmund ran a finger circularly beside him as he considered how best to phrase his question, "Because I have your eyes?"The shade of steel in his eyes that looked grey or blue depending on the light. It was far too similar to the Flood's and vastly different compared to Maeve's and Locke's. It's cruel to think but he wonders what would have been different if Sunjata had been his father. Would have he been disillusioned about Safrin earlier? Before they lost Enzo. A light chuckle left the young Ancient, "Part of the reason what drew me to Mother was how my fire was reacting to her awakening. Given that Ancient's wield flame, it makes sense in hindsight." Her fire had called to his on a primal level. Denying it would have been denying himself. Edmund Reborn In Fire

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

Steel meets steel when the question is met and Sunjata hums a soft little snort to agree before he’s raking a hand through his hair, the shadow of his scars seen in the flicker of the light. “Yeah. Torchline had a good time with all of their rumors.” Sunjata shrugs a shoulder, but his gaze is softer when it lands on Edmund, more curious than anything, no longer hiding any wariness that might have been found there once upon a time.

As for Dygra and the flame of the Ancient, Sunjata can understand that idea – glad that the young man had figured it out years before Sunjata had. “Well, I’m happy for you Edmund.” He starts, his accent drifting over the words with ease. “I’m glad you figured out what you wanted and you went for it.” Still went through with it despite what everyone else would say or do.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

Edmund's lips twitch into something fond and a little sad. He loved his region, but Torchers were ruthless at times. Whether it be in defending their home or in pursuing something they wanted. Rumors were no different. He can clearly imagine what Sunjata must have dealt with, "I'm sure." Returning The Flood's soft look, the young Ancient smiles brightly, "Thank you, Sunjata." The man's full name is used as Edmund tries to convey just how much the words mean to him. His easy acceptance and support are a far cry from how others had responded. It's soothing and the feeling of being understood is both foreign and overwhelming welcome. Basking in that warmth Edmund regard Sunjata with open curiosity, "By the way, what brings you all the way out here?" There were other places connected to Frey as well as other hot springs. Edmund hopes that choosing to be in a relaxing place connected to Frey isn't because Sunjata is suffering in some manner. Edmund Reborn In Fire

// seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind & all my childhood heroes
have fallen off or died. fake tears, real living, fake tears, but the alcohol never lies //

It had been a lot – the turmoil over the rumors that had spread. Edmund’s parentage had never been the worst of the rumors Sunjata had experienced in Torchline, but it had still chafed at old wounds caused by the very people he ruled over for so long. Regardless, it’s nothing that neither of them had much part in and what was in the past was in the past as far as he was concerned. He’d still be someone that Edmund could rely on should he ever need it and he hopes that the young man knows it all the same.

It seems as if he does, just simply based off of the thank you he receives, and so the young man is met with that same softer smile, crooked in how his scar effects the muscle on his cheek, but still warm all the same. As for what he’s doing here, however, the smile brightens a fraction. “Working on a quest for Frey. Needed to use my magic here, so, that’s what I was doing before what I assume to be your companion came to visit.” His tone drifts toward playful chastising, though it’s clear in his gaze that he doesn’t mind it one bit.

some princes don't become kings

SUNJATA

It's good to hear that Sunjata's presence here is due to a quest and not out of a necessary reprieve. At the mention of his companion, Edmund chuckles. "That would be Splat. He named himself and has been a troublemaker since." What was so wrong with the name Nevermore? It certainly fits a Darkling. Yet Splat had made it quite clear that 'Splat' and only 'Splat' would be his name. What a strange creature. "I'll let you get back to your quest. It was nice to see you again, Uncle Jata." With a warm smile, Edmund waves as the Flood returns to his companion in the water. Splat shortly floats over to rejoin the Ancient. It's a few hours later that he pulls himself from the bloodbath and returns to where he's camped for the moment. Hopefully, he'll see Sunjata again soon. -{FIN} Edmund Reborn In Fire