Generous, hm? Haha, I wouldn't flatter myself that far! I am repaying you for your time, after all.
[ it's almost a relief when he turns away from the intensity of that diamond stare to order the drinks, a pressure lifting as if he's been staring at the sun for too long. he takes advantage of the momentary break to collect himself again, trying to slow the thunder of his heart and the rush of adrenaline in his veins. it's just another mark, he tells himself. forget the starry eyes, forget the voice heralding from a distant memory, forget the fact that this thing wears the face of a person he'd long thought dead or lost to the horrors of the celestial curse - this is no different from interrogating an abyss mage or charming information from a hoarder. significantly more dangerous, perhaps, but since when has he ever shied away from that?
he's nearly managed to convince himself that he's got this under control by the time the drinks arrive, smile firmly affixed in place as he slides a glass over - only to falter when he sees the coin shining in the strange man's open palm. slowly, he reaches out to wrap his fingers around it, distantly noting how their hands were nearly the same size now.
it hadn't always been that way. the last time kaeya had slid his hand into that black-clad palm it had completely dwarfed his own, as the twilight sword knelt to swear his loyalty to the youngest member of the royal line. funny, all the things that change with time...for one of them, at any rate.
he withdraws his hand as quickly as if burned, running his thumb over the coin before flicking it up into the air. again and again, the coin spinning as it goes, flashing too quickly for anyone to tell which side it lands. heads or tails, truth or lies, the past or present - all those decisions left up in the air, or so he'd like to pretend. ]
Well, your name would be a good start. I can hardly keep calling you mister man of mystery, after all!
[ he knows the name of course; it sits heavy on the tip of his tongue, burns down his throat as he swallows it back. but he won't say it, not yet - naming the man in front of him would make him real, realer than all the abyss mages and hilichurls and monstrous remnants he's learned to divorce himself from. besides, maybe he's mistaken. maybe his memories have been fogged by time. or maybe the abyss has stolen away this man's identity as well. ]
[ the abyss has already stolen too much from him, but Dainsleif would argue that it's Celestia that has taken way more. not just from himself, but from the people of Khaenri'ah too, its royal family and those he failed to protect when they needed him the most. there are memories he can no longer remember, ones that were precious and fragile back when he could replay them night after night ever since the fall of the godless nation. they brought him comfort when nothing else could, when he had nothing left to hold onto but the grim reminder of his own failures. these memories are now faded around the edges, rotten to the core, lost to a curse that continues to eat away at whatever he has left.
Celestia has stolen too much from him, and yet somehow, they have failed to take this away—
(when their hands touched, he was brought back to a faraway land that glittered in gold and starlight. they both stood in the middle of a glorious chamber, surrounded by others with starry eyes and brilliant smiles. the crowd remained silent as the honourable knight knelt in front of the young prince, gaze downcast as he forgot what it was like to simply breathe.
this was an important moment in his life, and here he was about to make a fool of himself, but when he looked up, he watched as something warm, something innocent and yearning, bloomed on the prince's face.
that was all the encouragement he needed.) ]
... Dainsleif.
[ As Sir Dainsleif of the Black Serpent Knights, all that I am is yours to command.
—Celestia's curse couldn't diminish how important it was to him, to remember the vow he once swore, despite how it all ended. the event remains vivid in his mind, down to the vow he swore to keep on that day. he remembers it so well that he almost forgets where he is. the tavern's local patrons barely pay them any attention, and the innkeeper has already left them to their own devices, serving her next customers with a pretty smile and hearty laugh. there are snippets of conversation floating around about a strange phenomenon that made too many hilichurls suffer for no reason at all.
his own hand retreats once Kaeya's pulls away, almost apologetic for how things are turning out. he wonders if the coin will ever fall on a side that will be favourable to either of them. ]
I hail from a land far away from here. [ an outlander in every sense of the word. an outcast. ] I have been trying to find my way back, but... it has proven to be a difficult task lately.
[ he can only say it in so many different ways, but he has a feeling that the other man will understand. ]
[ he'd been expecting the name, bracing himself for it, but all the preparation in the world still wouldn't have stopped the electric shock that surges down his spine and through his veins at the mere sound of it, leaving every inch of his skin tingling and his hair standing on end. dainsleif. it echoes in his head, opening a door he thought he'd long locked shut.
he remembers. of course he does. no matter how much he lies to himself that he's left that part of him behind to wither in the dust, the golden halls and spiraling towers of his homeland shine as vividly in his mind's eye now as the day he'd left - and there gleaming ever bright in the eyes of the starstruck youth he'd once been, the twilight sword. khaenri'ah had offered little protection for a child growing up, not even for one of royal blood - perhaps especially not then, in a land whose rulers were expected to be as merciless as the machines of war they'd built. in the midst of the ruthless politics and powerclimbing, dainsleif had been one of the few safe havens he could trust, a protective shelter away from the storm.
part of him now feels like that terrified child again - abandoned in a strange land with stranger people, lost in a time not his own with a burden so heavy he can't begin to comprehend it, desperate to reach out to this promise of familiarity and connection that has suddenly appeared like a beacon of hope. it is eclipsed, however, by the far larger part of him who has grown up under wind and sky rather than machine and ground, who has sworn himself in service of a city not his own, the part that whispers in his head that he cannot trust this man. forget the name, forget their history, forget the starry eyes brimming with an emotion that's far too human - there's only two ways he knows of to stave off the effects of their celestial curse, and one of them currently resides underneath his eyepatch. as for the other...well, abyssal power might allow someone to retain their intelligence, but it kills off something vital in them nonetheless.
(he doesn't allow himself to hope for the possibility that there might be a third option, that someone else might have escaped the curse with their humanity intact too. he's known for a long time now that miracles don't exist.) ]
A pleasure. I'm Kaeya, of the Ordo Favonius.
[ he emphasizes favonius slightly, watching dainleif's face carefully for any reaction to a khaenri'an now working for the city of the enemy. no point in hiding it anyway, not when it would only take a few hours asking around to determine who the strange foreigner with the unusual attire could possibly be. his smile does falter at the man's confession of his shaky memory - the delayed symptoms of the curse? a side effect to abyssal corruption? all the more reason to keep up his guard. ]
A faraway land, hm? You sound like someone straight out of a storybook. [ he props his chin on his hand, his other fingers tracing the rim of his glass idly as if this really is just a casual conversation with a stranger in a bar. ] Why the eagerness to return? Perhaps you'll enjoy taking in the sights and making new memories where you are now.
... Of the Ordo Favonius. [ his voice is nearly breathless, but deep down, he feels like he is suffocating. ] What an honour that must be.
[ the implication behind the emphasis is not lost on Dainsleif. for a brief moment, his expression becomes unreadable, difficult to decipher what it is that's going through his mind, but it only lasts as long as it takes for the initial shock to fade away. what replaces it is something much more subdued, something equal parts lost and melancholic, as if he understands where khaenri'ah's last hope now stands. does this mean that it was all for nothing? or is it more like, he's more alone than ever when it comes to finding a way to right the wrongs that the gods have caused?
it's been so long since he last saw anyone with the stars in their eyes like he does that he's struggling to make sense of what he's experiencing. he tries not to let the wistfulness shows but it might be too late to hide it. in the end, he chooses to look away, to focus on the drink that was offered earlier, but he doesn't miss the way that Kaeya's smile just faltered right there and then.
too many questions, so little answers. ]
It has been a long time since I last returned home. [ five hundred years and counting, but he dares not breathe that out loud. ] I've almost forgotten what it's like.
[ in a way, it's an attempt to hint at something — how long he's been alive, how long he's lived alone for so many years. he wonders if Kaeya's voice will falter if he manages to pick up all the little hints that Dainsleif continues to leave behind. ]
I wouldn't even know where to go if I were to continue wandering around. [ this time, he looks at Kaeya again. ] Of course, I'm open to suggestions, should you have any.
[ if he has any secrets left to uncover, they're in the shape of the man sitting next to him. ]
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no subject
[ it's almost a relief when he turns away from the intensity of that diamond stare to order the drinks, a pressure lifting as if he's been staring at the sun for too long. he takes advantage of the momentary break to collect himself again, trying to slow the thunder of his heart and the rush of adrenaline in his veins. it's just another mark, he tells himself. forget the starry eyes, forget the voice heralding from a distant memory, forget the fact that this thing wears the face of a person he'd long thought dead or lost to the horrors of the celestial curse - this is no different from interrogating an abyss mage or charming information from a hoarder. significantly more dangerous, perhaps, but since when has he ever shied away from that?
he's nearly managed to convince himself that he's got this under control by the time the drinks arrive, smile firmly affixed in place as he slides a glass over - only to falter when he sees the coin shining in the strange man's open palm. slowly, he reaches out to wrap his fingers around it, distantly noting how their hands were nearly the same size now.
it hadn't always been that way. the last time kaeya had slid his hand into that black-clad palm it had completely dwarfed his own, as the twilight sword knelt to swear his loyalty to the youngest member of the royal line. funny, all the things that change with time...for one of them, at any rate.
he withdraws his hand as quickly as if burned, running his thumb over the coin before flicking it up into the air. again and again, the coin spinning as it goes, flashing too quickly for anyone to tell which side it lands. heads or tails, truth or lies, the past or present - all those decisions left up in the air, or so he'd like to pretend. ]
Well, your name would be a good start. I can hardly keep calling you mister man of mystery, after all!
[ he knows the name of course; it sits heavy on the tip of his tongue, burns down his throat as he swallows it back. but he won't say it, not yet - naming the man in front of him would make him real, realer than all the abyss mages and hilichurls and monstrous remnants he's learned to divorce himself from. besides, maybe he's mistaken. maybe his memories have been fogged by time. or maybe the abyss has stolen away this man's identity as well. ]
no subject
Celestia has stolen too much from him, and yet somehow, they have failed to take this away—
(when their hands touched, he was brought back to a faraway land that glittered in gold and starlight. they both stood in the middle of a glorious chamber, surrounded by others with starry eyes and brilliant smiles. the crowd remained silent as the honourable knight knelt in front of the young prince, gaze downcast as he forgot what it was like to simply breathe.
this was an important moment in his life, and here he was about to make a fool of himself, but when he looked up, he watched as something warm, something innocent and yearning, bloomed on the prince's face.
that was all the encouragement he needed.) ]
... Dainsleif.
[ As Sir Dainsleif of the Black Serpent Knights, all that I am is yours to command.
—Celestia's curse couldn't diminish how important it was to him, to remember the vow he once swore, despite how it all ended. the event remains vivid in his mind, down to the vow he swore to keep on that day. he remembers it so well that he almost forgets where he is. the tavern's local patrons barely pay them any attention, and the innkeeper has already left them to their own devices, serving her next customers with a pretty smile and hearty laugh. there are snippets of conversation floating around about a strange phenomenon that made too many hilichurls suffer for no reason at all.
his own hand retreats once Kaeya's pulls away, almost apologetic for how things are turning out. he wonders if the coin will ever fall on a side that will be favourable to either of them. ]
I hail from a land far away from here. [ an outlander in every sense of the word. an outcast. ] I have been trying to find my way back, but... it has proven to be a difficult task lately.
[ he can only say it in so many different ways, but he has a feeling that the other man will understand. ]
My memory is not quite what it used to be.
no subject
he remembers. of course he does. no matter how much he lies to himself that he's left that part of him behind to wither in the dust, the golden halls and spiraling towers of his homeland shine as vividly in his mind's eye now as the day he'd left - and there gleaming ever bright in the eyes of the starstruck youth he'd once been, the twilight sword. khaenri'ah had offered little protection for a child growing up, not even for one of royal blood - perhaps especially not then, in a land whose rulers were expected to be as merciless as the machines of war they'd built. in the midst of the ruthless politics and powerclimbing, dainsleif had been one of the few safe havens he could trust, a protective shelter away from the storm.
part of him now feels like that terrified child again - abandoned in a strange land with stranger people, lost in a time not his own with a burden so heavy he can't begin to comprehend it, desperate to reach out to this promise of familiarity and connection that has suddenly appeared like a beacon of hope. it is eclipsed, however, by the far larger part of him who has grown up under wind and sky rather than machine and ground, who has sworn himself in service of a city not his own, the part that whispers in his head that he cannot trust this man. forget the name, forget their history, forget the starry eyes brimming with an emotion that's far too human - there's only two ways he knows of to stave off the effects of their celestial curse, and one of them currently resides underneath his eyepatch. as for the other...well, abyssal power might allow someone to retain their intelligence, but it kills off something vital in them nonetheless.
(he doesn't allow himself to hope for the possibility that there might be a third option, that someone else might have escaped the curse with their humanity intact too. he's known for a long time now that miracles don't exist.) ]
A pleasure. I'm Kaeya, of the Ordo Favonius.
[ he emphasizes favonius slightly, watching dainleif's face carefully for any reaction to a khaenri'an now working for the city of the enemy. no point in hiding it anyway, not when it would only take a few hours asking around to determine who the strange foreigner with the unusual attire could possibly be. his smile does falter at the man's confession of his shaky memory - the delayed symptoms of the curse? a side effect to abyssal corruption? all the more reason to keep up his guard. ]
A faraway land, hm? You sound like someone straight out of a storybook. [ he props his chin on his hand, his other fingers tracing the rim of his glass idly as if this really is just a casual conversation with a stranger in a bar. ] Why the eagerness to return? Perhaps you'll enjoy taking in the sights and making new memories where you are now.
no subject
[ the implication behind the emphasis is not lost on Dainsleif. for a brief moment, his expression becomes unreadable, difficult to decipher what it is that's going through his mind, but it only lasts as long as it takes for the initial shock to fade away. what replaces it is something much more subdued, something equal parts lost and melancholic, as if he understands where khaenri'ah's last hope now stands. does this mean that it was all for nothing? or is it more like, he's more alone than ever when it comes to finding a way to right the wrongs that the gods have caused?
it's been so long since he last saw anyone with the stars in their eyes like he does that he's struggling to make sense of what he's experiencing. he tries not to let the wistfulness shows but it might be too late to hide it. in the end, he chooses to look away, to focus on the drink that was offered earlier, but he doesn't miss the way that Kaeya's smile just faltered right there and then.
too many questions, so little answers. ]
It has been a long time since I last returned home. [ five hundred years and counting, but he dares not breathe that out loud. ] I've almost forgotten what it's like.
[ in a way, it's an attempt to hint at something — how long he's been alive, how long he's lived alone for so many years. he wonders if Kaeya's voice will falter if he manages to pick up all the little hints that Dainsleif continues to leave behind. ]
I wouldn't even know where to go if I were to continue wandering around. [ this time, he looks at Kaeya again. ] Of course, I'm open to suggestions, should you have any.
[ if he has any secrets left to uncover, they're in the shape of the man sitting next to him. ]