Achaius knew there was magic hanging around in Helovia, he had been warned about this already. But at first when his foot splashed into the water he did a bit of a double take, his eyes briefly widening as he sank the unexpected extra inch onto the ground underneath. Magic, unlike casual conversation with strangers, was not natural to him. It had always rubbed him a little bit the wrong way, even if he had been the one wielding it. The glass had just… melted. And now in its altered state soaked his foot. He lifted his forefoot out again – holding it up a second so the water could drip off again into the puddle. He raised his eyebrows a little, his expression impressed and interested as he looked up from the droplets to the horned stallion in front of him.
“Now that is a handy trick for someone who has to clean up a lot of glass.” He smiled again, winking. The sunlight accented his shadows well, created an ombre of his face and forehead as the bay became black. He was rather enjoying Tembovu’s company already.
Tembovu starts off deeper into the realm and Achaius obeys the quiet invitation and follows him forward. His feet sink into soft earth as they walk – the thawed snow has given way to an unpredictable wet ground. He gathers, from the other stallion’s easy even stride, that glass underfoot is not a paramount concern as they move away from the wall. Pulling up along the larger stallion’s left side, lengthening his own into a lope to match pace; he tilts his head to pay closer attention to what the larger man is saying.
“Sisyphus had many faults and a long story, but he is mostly remembered for his afterlife punishment: he played a trick on a god and they tasked him with pushing a large boulder up a steep hill. Every day he would do this, and every night the boulder would roll back down to the bottom – as the gods had arranged it should, so his task would never be complete. Your glass-clearing project seems to me like it might also never be complete, and so – is Sisyphean.” He held his head up, looking ahead of them as they walked, trying to memorize the details. "Are you being punished for something?" The smile creeps back into his face as he asks - he does not honestly suspect this, but otherwise it seems hugely self-sacrificing to undertake this task.
“I have not been in Helovia long, no, only a few weeks.” It felt like even less time had passed. He was eager to become a little more invested. “I have never heard of Dorobo, though I have been travelling for some time, so it must be quite a distance away…” Achaius looks curious; and in fact is on the point of asking more about Dorobo but refrains, and says instead “I come from a place called Eclypse. I’m not sure it’s still there…” He frowned, trying to imagine that it had gone on. “But it has been some time since I left there, and I have passed through many places in between.” It was something of an understatement but he stated it simply and without dramatic inflection to suggest there was any more to it than that.
“What brings the people at the Edge together… is there a common ideal?” Or a charismatic leader, or a theme? He has been a part of many nations and seen many interesting social structures. He’s keen to know how things work here, to understand the footing that this fraction of Helovia finds itself on. His question is not pressured as he speaks it out loud. It’s not apparent in the slate gray eye as he turns it back to Tembovu how interested he is in the people and the momentum of the leadership. He wants to know if he will fit, and this is the personal curiosity that comes out in his voice. After a moment he adds “Are the rest of them being punished for something too?”
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