The zephyr looked a little like it had just taken a dip in a cold pool before they rolled into the Threshold. Its frosted feathers looked like they should have been too heavy to hold up but as it seemed to look comfortable and hold itself up pretty easily Achaius chose to assume this was normal, and moved on. Elsa was closer to his age than Ilios, he guessed. She was still young, but she plainly had had experiences to fill her short life quite fully.
Ilios spoke and he watched with polite interest. Sincere interest, even, for he knew essentially nothing about where he was. Achaius’ features were, while not delicate, carved well and quietly expressive. Although he didn’t smile outright there were traces of contentment and goodwill in the way he calmly held Ilios’ more excited gaze. His body language was open, and more relaxed than he felt. With black dipped legs and accents he stood out from the snow almost as well as Ilios. Standing opposite one another he and Elsa probably had an appealing asymmetry.
Magic? Hmm… Five letter word with millions of meanings. He had seen it before. He knew magic to be ephemeral, and its rules perhaps more so – whatever it was in the world that allowed for magic seemed to be as inconsistent as geography or weather. Magic meant more to learn than usual, as if integrating wasn’t already difficult. Well, he reflected, at least that explains the vibrant colours. Genetics is magic unto itself, but teal and blue were hard to reconcile. As Ilios finished Achaius grinned at him, and winking said almost flippantly;
“Well that covers the basics, I guess: magic, pets and good stylists. Got it.
Incidentally,” he interrupted himself, frowning gently with mock suspicion “are you planning a career in politics? I’m not sure anyone has ever tried to convince me that a desert was lush with a straight face before... you did it pretty well. Don’t you agree, Elsa?”
He tipped his head back toward Elsa as he asked her. His tone was casual and he was, to all appearances, at his ease. Truthfully it was unconscious second nature to chat with strangers. What he genuinely felt was curiosity; he had observed that Elsa seemed at least (or maybe more?) interested in Ilios as in himself – not that it mattered overly. As for Ilios: he was young, and so it was hard to tell right away if he just had youthful energy or if he really was a fraction more fidgety after Elsa had arrived than before. Achaius suspected the latter; Elsa was an attractive sight. They identified themselves from separate regions, which he suspected meant separate loyalties, possibly even conflicting ones. Or maybe one of them was famous, or infamous. It was too soon, and he was too unfamiliar with the social politics of Helovia to guess much further. He hadn’t introduced himself so far - he was conscious of it - but he would let this fluid conversation steer itself a little further first.
Around them the clearing was quite still. Their breath, soft gray clouds that clung at lip and jaw, rose quite straight above them, stirred only by occasional beating wings. In the distance, however, the wind shifted heavy trees, white noise complimenting clean fallen snow.
Achaius.
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Thanks for the great welcome, guys :)
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