The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Returning home after the war hadn’t quite been like what Dorothea had expected. Well, she wasn’t sure what she expected, but nothing seemed to feel quite right. She was listless, all of her usual activities and comforts failing to bring her any joy. It was like her mind could not stay focused in the present. Instead, she kept flashing back to all the terrible things she had seen in Egypt. Dorothea wasn’t naïve. She knew that war wasn’t going to be glamourous. In fact, she had been quite sure that she wasn’t even going to enjoy it. She had seen some of the other sides of battles and they had never been pretty. However, Dorothea was quite sure in her conviction that she was needed. She had to do her part in some way to be useful to her country. And that had seemed like the appropriate opportunity.
The opportunity to join a group of female archers that were respected members of an army was something she could not pass up. Dorothea learned more than she could have imagined during her time with them. And she had earned her spot among them with her superior skill and accuracy. Of course, that accuracy meant that she was almost guaranteed to take lives. That had not been at all pleasant. It had been something that Dorothea had a difficult time getting over.
She had taken the lives of many animals when she went hunting. However, that was different. It was for a purpose. The animals would feed her and her people. They would not let anything go to waste. And Dorothea was always thankful to her goddess for providing. With people, it had always come back to the central question she had asked her cousin Vangelis many months before. What was the purpose of so much bloodshed? Were people so fundamentally different from one another that war was justified? Wasn’t there another way?
After experiencing war, she was convinced that there was another way. This fighting served no purpose. She did not know those she killed, but she did see new friends and countrymen fall down beside her. It was senseless.
Life after war was supposed to make some more sense, but Dorothea just couldn’t seem to wrap her head around it. She felt out of place among her family—her father had a new wife, who had somehow built a home and family for herself in a matter of months. It wasn’t as though Dorothea resented Evie—it was just that she did not know where she herself fit. It made sense for Alexa to take a liking to their father’s new wife, she was younger and still impressionable. But Dorothea felt as though she knew nothing about the routine their family had seemed to have fallen into. Even Uncle Dorotheos seemed more relaxed and at ease than he had ever been. Where did Dorothea belong in all of this? She was just as lost as she had been when she left.
After many weeks back, she had finally approached her father with an idea that had been bouncing around in her head for quite some time. She needed to leave. Not forever. And not on some dangerous mission. But she just needed to be somewhere new and experience some more of the world for herself. Shockingly, Gavriil hadn’t even put up a fight. In fact, he seemed to realize that it might be coming. Dorothea was shocked but accepted his reaction quickly. To hesitate might mean that he would change his mind.
And so plans were laid quickly in the week after that. She would travel to Colchis. She had many friends there that would be happy to take her in for a time and she could finally experience life outside of Taengea. Real life. Not just war. Her passage on a boat was arranged and she was set to make the trip. This time, she said proper goodbyes to her family, rather than just disappearing with a note. She promised to write often, knowing they would want updates on her whereabouts. She would remain in contact. That was what was promised. For a moment, during her hug with Gavriil, she thought he might change his mind—or that she might—but they let go of each other and Dorothea mounted her horse quickly after. She would need to leave now or risk not going at all. She did not look back at her home.
The next day, after a night’s rest at her family’s home in the capital, Dorothea made her way to the docks, ready to find her ship and set sail. It was to be a small charter, also carrying some goods to Colchis, but not likely no other people. Her uncle had known the captain. Finding the ship, she greeted the captain, who showed her to her quarters for the next two weeks. She settled in then went above deck to see them set sail.
There was a man standing at the rail, clearly not part of the crew. Dorothea approached cautiously. She had not been aware of other passengers, but supposed she ought to greet someone she would be spending the next few weeks with.
“Hello,” Dorothea said softly, approaching the rail and giving him plenty of room. “It seems we are to be traveling companions. I’m Dorothea.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Returning home after the war hadn’t quite been like what Dorothea had expected. Well, she wasn’t sure what she expected, but nothing seemed to feel quite right. She was listless, all of her usual activities and comforts failing to bring her any joy. It was like her mind could not stay focused in the present. Instead, she kept flashing back to all the terrible things she had seen in Egypt. Dorothea wasn’t naïve. She knew that war wasn’t going to be glamourous. In fact, she had been quite sure that she wasn’t even going to enjoy it. She had seen some of the other sides of battles and they had never been pretty. However, Dorothea was quite sure in her conviction that she was needed. She had to do her part in some way to be useful to her country. And that had seemed like the appropriate opportunity.
The opportunity to join a group of female archers that were respected members of an army was something she could not pass up. Dorothea learned more than she could have imagined during her time with them. And she had earned her spot among them with her superior skill and accuracy. Of course, that accuracy meant that she was almost guaranteed to take lives. That had not been at all pleasant. It had been something that Dorothea had a difficult time getting over.
She had taken the lives of many animals when she went hunting. However, that was different. It was for a purpose. The animals would feed her and her people. They would not let anything go to waste. And Dorothea was always thankful to her goddess for providing. With people, it had always come back to the central question she had asked her cousin Vangelis many months before. What was the purpose of so much bloodshed? Were people so fundamentally different from one another that war was justified? Wasn’t there another way?
After experiencing war, she was convinced that there was another way. This fighting served no purpose. She did not know those she killed, but she did see new friends and countrymen fall down beside her. It was senseless.
Life after war was supposed to make some more sense, but Dorothea just couldn’t seem to wrap her head around it. She felt out of place among her family—her father had a new wife, who had somehow built a home and family for herself in a matter of months. It wasn’t as though Dorothea resented Evie—it was just that she did not know where she herself fit. It made sense for Alexa to take a liking to their father’s new wife, she was younger and still impressionable. But Dorothea felt as though she knew nothing about the routine their family had seemed to have fallen into. Even Uncle Dorotheos seemed more relaxed and at ease than he had ever been. Where did Dorothea belong in all of this? She was just as lost as she had been when she left.
After many weeks back, she had finally approached her father with an idea that had been bouncing around in her head for quite some time. She needed to leave. Not forever. And not on some dangerous mission. But she just needed to be somewhere new and experience some more of the world for herself. Shockingly, Gavriil hadn’t even put up a fight. In fact, he seemed to realize that it might be coming. Dorothea was shocked but accepted his reaction quickly. To hesitate might mean that he would change his mind.
And so plans were laid quickly in the week after that. She would travel to Colchis. She had many friends there that would be happy to take her in for a time and she could finally experience life outside of Taengea. Real life. Not just war. Her passage on a boat was arranged and she was set to make the trip. This time, she said proper goodbyes to her family, rather than just disappearing with a note. She promised to write often, knowing they would want updates on her whereabouts. She would remain in contact. That was what was promised. For a moment, during her hug with Gavriil, she thought he might change his mind—or that she might—but they let go of each other and Dorothea mounted her horse quickly after. She would need to leave now or risk not going at all. She did not look back at her home.
The next day, after a night’s rest at her family’s home in the capital, Dorothea made her way to the docks, ready to find her ship and set sail. It was to be a small charter, also carrying some goods to Colchis, but not likely no other people. Her uncle had known the captain. Finding the ship, she greeted the captain, who showed her to her quarters for the next two weeks. She settled in then went above deck to see them set sail.
There was a man standing at the rail, clearly not part of the crew. Dorothea approached cautiously. She had not been aware of other passengers, but supposed she ought to greet someone she would be spending the next few weeks with.
“Hello,” Dorothea said softly, approaching the rail and giving him plenty of room. “It seems we are to be traveling companions. I’m Dorothea.”
Returning home after the war hadn’t quite been like what Dorothea had expected. Well, she wasn’t sure what she expected, but nothing seemed to feel quite right. She was listless, all of her usual activities and comforts failing to bring her any joy. It was like her mind could not stay focused in the present. Instead, she kept flashing back to all the terrible things she had seen in Egypt. Dorothea wasn’t naïve. She knew that war wasn’t going to be glamourous. In fact, she had been quite sure that she wasn’t even going to enjoy it. She had seen some of the other sides of battles and they had never been pretty. However, Dorothea was quite sure in her conviction that she was needed. She had to do her part in some way to be useful to her country. And that had seemed like the appropriate opportunity.
The opportunity to join a group of female archers that were respected members of an army was something she could not pass up. Dorothea learned more than she could have imagined during her time with them. And she had earned her spot among them with her superior skill and accuracy. Of course, that accuracy meant that she was almost guaranteed to take lives. That had not been at all pleasant. It had been something that Dorothea had a difficult time getting over.
She had taken the lives of many animals when she went hunting. However, that was different. It was for a purpose. The animals would feed her and her people. They would not let anything go to waste. And Dorothea was always thankful to her goddess for providing. With people, it had always come back to the central question she had asked her cousin Vangelis many months before. What was the purpose of so much bloodshed? Were people so fundamentally different from one another that war was justified? Wasn’t there another way?
After experiencing war, she was convinced that there was another way. This fighting served no purpose. She did not know those she killed, but she did see new friends and countrymen fall down beside her. It was senseless.
Life after war was supposed to make some more sense, but Dorothea just couldn’t seem to wrap her head around it. She felt out of place among her family—her father had a new wife, who had somehow built a home and family for herself in a matter of months. It wasn’t as though Dorothea resented Evie—it was just that she did not know where she herself fit. It made sense for Alexa to take a liking to their father’s new wife, she was younger and still impressionable. But Dorothea felt as though she knew nothing about the routine their family had seemed to have fallen into. Even Uncle Dorotheos seemed more relaxed and at ease than he had ever been. Where did Dorothea belong in all of this? She was just as lost as she had been when she left.
After many weeks back, she had finally approached her father with an idea that had been bouncing around in her head for quite some time. She needed to leave. Not forever. And not on some dangerous mission. But she just needed to be somewhere new and experience some more of the world for herself. Shockingly, Gavriil hadn’t even put up a fight. In fact, he seemed to realize that it might be coming. Dorothea was shocked but accepted his reaction quickly. To hesitate might mean that he would change his mind.
And so plans were laid quickly in the week after that. She would travel to Colchis. She had many friends there that would be happy to take her in for a time and she could finally experience life outside of Taengea. Real life. Not just war. Her passage on a boat was arranged and she was set to make the trip. This time, she said proper goodbyes to her family, rather than just disappearing with a note. She promised to write often, knowing they would want updates on her whereabouts. She would remain in contact. That was what was promised. For a moment, during her hug with Gavriil, she thought he might change his mind—or that she might—but they let go of each other and Dorothea mounted her horse quickly after. She would need to leave now or risk not going at all. She did not look back at her home.
The next day, after a night’s rest at her family’s home in the capital, Dorothea made her way to the docks, ready to find her ship and set sail. It was to be a small charter, also carrying some goods to Colchis, but not likely no other people. Her uncle had known the captain. Finding the ship, she greeted the captain, who showed her to her quarters for the next two weeks. She settled in then went above deck to see them set sail.
There was a man standing at the rail, clearly not part of the crew. Dorothea approached cautiously. She had not been aware of other passengers, but supposed she ought to greet someone she would be spending the next few weeks with.
“Hello,” Dorothea said softly, approaching the rail and giving him plenty of room. “It seems we are to be traveling companions. I’m Dorothea.”
Coming home from war had been much easier the first time around. Krysto had had little to look forward to save for his family. His brothers and sisters, mother and father. But the hell that he experienced this time? It was so profoundly different, and stepping back onto Taengea soil had not brought him the peace and quiet that he had been seeking on the weeks' ride back over by boat. Taengean soil hadn't brought him any sort of comfort, whatsoever. Whatever had happened between him leaving and between him returning to Taengea had torn Eurydice from him. The loss of their child and his absence had soured her to him. That was not surprising, but it was strikingly and baselessly... crushing.
Battered, bruised, and adjusting to life with one less eye, but one safe and living, breathing king to show for his troubles, Krysto had made sure attempts to meld back into his former life. His position as Captain of the Kingsguard had been a dream, really, but around every single turn, Krysto had found himself struggling to connect with his men, with himself, and with the growing handicap between himself and the men he was supposed to lead. After living a soldier's life for the vast majority of his years, he found himself faltering in both his convictions and his own motivations.
The King, his dearest friend, had much more to look after to be worrying about him. Krysto had kept them together, through two wars and one very long stint of peace. Inseparable even at the worst of times. But Krysto was struggling to breathe. He was struggling to make sense of the world without a woman who was supposed to be his, a child who would never wail, and a friend who could not lean on him the same way that he once had. The distance only grew, wider and wider until Krysto well and truly felt as if everything around him was falling to pieces. The tension in his back, his shoulders, his neck... it never faded.
He was about to snap. In the worst, most destructive way. Generally the most level-headed of all of his friends, the man had never experienced the amount of pressure, anguish, and confusion that he dealt with now. What was all of that for? What had leaving on that boat really done for his life or the lives of others? He couldn't even look back on his friendship with Hypatia with any sort of fondness as he once had. Everything was marred, colored in a monochrome glow that left much to be desired.
But Lord Dorotheos of Dimitrou seemed to swoop in like an absolute savior. The gist was that Lady Dorothea needed to leave home, and it seemed, through some divine observation either from other soldiers or the King himself (the man never stated) that Krysto also needed the distance from Taengean soil. The request for leave from service to King Achilleas had not been as difficult as he had expected. Surprisingly, it was a rather easy thing to request. Krysto wondered, silently, whether Achilleas simply understood that this was something that Krysto needed.
It would be a big change to sail without the threat of war hanging on his shoulders. The feeling of impending doom that colored his every day before his return from war. It was easy to prepare. Krysto had never kept much of value, finding little need for it when he was a soldier, not a wealthy merchant or an up-and-coming courtier. The man packed what he needed, his axe, a few blades. His responsibilities revolved around ensuring that Lady Dorothea remained protected. At all costs. Though, Krysto knew very well, from ledgers and missives that Lady Dorothea had protected herself very well in the war. Flanked by other female soldiers hailing from Colchis.
He was the first man on the boat besides the Captain. Shown to his own cabin, Krysto had set his pack down and unholstered his weapons, sure that he would not need them for the initial few weeks of their voyage. Except in the case of pirates. But they would cross that bridge if they came to it.
Hair shaggy and windblown, Krysto adjusted the patch across his left eye, fixing his chiton in crushing silence before he exited from his temporary chambers. His feet took him up to the deck where he promptly leaned himself against the railing, looking out toward the sea. The soft approach of Lady Dorothea had him straightening and turning to look her over. Then he bowed, almost forgetting himself and the disparity in ranking between them. "I know who you are, Lady Dorothea," he said in a voice that should have been familiar. Krysto had spent considerable time at King Achilleas' side over the years, a very clear and notable companion to the man. Until now. "Krysto," he introduced himself, dropping his title. He was just Krysto. His title was not important here.
Straightening once more, Krysto offered Dorothea his hand, a very small smile on his features. It didn't reach his eyes, but he was sure enough that it didn't need to. "We are to be travelling companions for the duration of your adventuring, my lady. Your uncle has requested my presence at your side," he said lowly, blue eyes watching her face and only her face.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Coming home from war had been much easier the first time around. Krysto had had little to look forward to save for his family. His brothers and sisters, mother and father. But the hell that he experienced this time? It was so profoundly different, and stepping back onto Taengea soil had not brought him the peace and quiet that he had been seeking on the weeks' ride back over by boat. Taengean soil hadn't brought him any sort of comfort, whatsoever. Whatever had happened between him leaving and between him returning to Taengea had torn Eurydice from him. The loss of their child and his absence had soured her to him. That was not surprising, but it was strikingly and baselessly... crushing.
Battered, bruised, and adjusting to life with one less eye, but one safe and living, breathing king to show for his troubles, Krysto had made sure attempts to meld back into his former life. His position as Captain of the Kingsguard had been a dream, really, but around every single turn, Krysto had found himself struggling to connect with his men, with himself, and with the growing handicap between himself and the men he was supposed to lead. After living a soldier's life for the vast majority of his years, he found himself faltering in both his convictions and his own motivations.
The King, his dearest friend, had much more to look after to be worrying about him. Krysto had kept them together, through two wars and one very long stint of peace. Inseparable even at the worst of times. But Krysto was struggling to breathe. He was struggling to make sense of the world without a woman who was supposed to be his, a child who would never wail, and a friend who could not lean on him the same way that he once had. The distance only grew, wider and wider until Krysto well and truly felt as if everything around him was falling to pieces. The tension in his back, his shoulders, his neck... it never faded.
He was about to snap. In the worst, most destructive way. Generally the most level-headed of all of his friends, the man had never experienced the amount of pressure, anguish, and confusion that he dealt with now. What was all of that for? What had leaving on that boat really done for his life or the lives of others? He couldn't even look back on his friendship with Hypatia with any sort of fondness as he once had. Everything was marred, colored in a monochrome glow that left much to be desired.
But Lord Dorotheos of Dimitrou seemed to swoop in like an absolute savior. The gist was that Lady Dorothea needed to leave home, and it seemed, through some divine observation either from other soldiers or the King himself (the man never stated) that Krysto also needed the distance from Taengean soil. The request for leave from service to King Achilleas had not been as difficult as he had expected. Surprisingly, it was a rather easy thing to request. Krysto wondered, silently, whether Achilleas simply understood that this was something that Krysto needed.
It would be a big change to sail without the threat of war hanging on his shoulders. The feeling of impending doom that colored his every day before his return from war. It was easy to prepare. Krysto had never kept much of value, finding little need for it when he was a soldier, not a wealthy merchant or an up-and-coming courtier. The man packed what he needed, his axe, a few blades. His responsibilities revolved around ensuring that Lady Dorothea remained protected. At all costs. Though, Krysto knew very well, from ledgers and missives that Lady Dorothea had protected herself very well in the war. Flanked by other female soldiers hailing from Colchis.
He was the first man on the boat besides the Captain. Shown to his own cabin, Krysto had set his pack down and unholstered his weapons, sure that he would not need them for the initial few weeks of their voyage. Except in the case of pirates. But they would cross that bridge if they came to it.
Hair shaggy and windblown, Krysto adjusted the patch across his left eye, fixing his chiton in crushing silence before he exited from his temporary chambers. His feet took him up to the deck where he promptly leaned himself against the railing, looking out toward the sea. The soft approach of Lady Dorothea had him straightening and turning to look her over. Then he bowed, almost forgetting himself and the disparity in ranking between them. "I know who you are, Lady Dorothea," he said in a voice that should have been familiar. Krysto had spent considerable time at King Achilleas' side over the years, a very clear and notable companion to the man. Until now. "Krysto," he introduced himself, dropping his title. He was just Krysto. His title was not important here.
Straightening once more, Krysto offered Dorothea his hand, a very small smile on his features. It didn't reach his eyes, but he was sure enough that it didn't need to. "We are to be travelling companions for the duration of your adventuring, my lady. Your uncle has requested my presence at your side," he said lowly, blue eyes watching her face and only her face.
Coming home from war had been much easier the first time around. Krysto had had little to look forward to save for his family. His brothers and sisters, mother and father. But the hell that he experienced this time? It was so profoundly different, and stepping back onto Taengea soil had not brought him the peace and quiet that he had been seeking on the weeks' ride back over by boat. Taengean soil hadn't brought him any sort of comfort, whatsoever. Whatever had happened between him leaving and between him returning to Taengea had torn Eurydice from him. The loss of their child and his absence had soured her to him. That was not surprising, but it was strikingly and baselessly... crushing.
Battered, bruised, and adjusting to life with one less eye, but one safe and living, breathing king to show for his troubles, Krysto had made sure attempts to meld back into his former life. His position as Captain of the Kingsguard had been a dream, really, but around every single turn, Krysto had found himself struggling to connect with his men, with himself, and with the growing handicap between himself and the men he was supposed to lead. After living a soldier's life for the vast majority of his years, he found himself faltering in both his convictions and his own motivations.
The King, his dearest friend, had much more to look after to be worrying about him. Krysto had kept them together, through two wars and one very long stint of peace. Inseparable even at the worst of times. But Krysto was struggling to breathe. He was struggling to make sense of the world without a woman who was supposed to be his, a child who would never wail, and a friend who could not lean on him the same way that he once had. The distance only grew, wider and wider until Krysto well and truly felt as if everything around him was falling to pieces. The tension in his back, his shoulders, his neck... it never faded.
He was about to snap. In the worst, most destructive way. Generally the most level-headed of all of his friends, the man had never experienced the amount of pressure, anguish, and confusion that he dealt with now. What was all of that for? What had leaving on that boat really done for his life or the lives of others? He couldn't even look back on his friendship with Hypatia with any sort of fondness as he once had. Everything was marred, colored in a monochrome glow that left much to be desired.
But Lord Dorotheos of Dimitrou seemed to swoop in like an absolute savior. The gist was that Lady Dorothea needed to leave home, and it seemed, through some divine observation either from other soldiers or the King himself (the man never stated) that Krysto also needed the distance from Taengean soil. The request for leave from service to King Achilleas had not been as difficult as he had expected. Surprisingly, it was a rather easy thing to request. Krysto wondered, silently, whether Achilleas simply understood that this was something that Krysto needed.
It would be a big change to sail without the threat of war hanging on his shoulders. The feeling of impending doom that colored his every day before his return from war. It was easy to prepare. Krysto had never kept much of value, finding little need for it when he was a soldier, not a wealthy merchant or an up-and-coming courtier. The man packed what he needed, his axe, a few blades. His responsibilities revolved around ensuring that Lady Dorothea remained protected. At all costs. Though, Krysto knew very well, from ledgers and missives that Lady Dorothea had protected herself very well in the war. Flanked by other female soldiers hailing from Colchis.
He was the first man on the boat besides the Captain. Shown to his own cabin, Krysto had set his pack down and unholstered his weapons, sure that he would not need them for the initial few weeks of their voyage. Except in the case of pirates. But they would cross that bridge if they came to it.
Hair shaggy and windblown, Krysto adjusted the patch across his left eye, fixing his chiton in crushing silence before he exited from his temporary chambers. His feet took him up to the deck where he promptly leaned himself against the railing, looking out toward the sea. The soft approach of Lady Dorothea had him straightening and turning to look her over. Then he bowed, almost forgetting himself and the disparity in ranking between them. "I know who you are, Lady Dorothea," he said in a voice that should have been familiar. Krysto had spent considerable time at King Achilleas' side over the years, a very clear and notable companion to the man. Until now. "Krysto," he introduced himself, dropping his title. He was just Krysto. His title was not important here.
Straightening once more, Krysto offered Dorothea his hand, a very small smile on his features. It didn't reach his eyes, but he was sure enough that it didn't need to. "We are to be travelling companions for the duration of your adventuring, my lady. Your uncle has requested my presence at your side," he said lowly, blue eyes watching her face and only her face.
Dorothea should have realized that she would not have been allowed to go on this trip alone. Her father trusted her, but not enough. For a moment, she relished the thought of a journey where she could be in true solitude before letting it go. For the next two weeks, she was stuck with this man. Unless…no, she could not make a hasty exit off the boat now. They were preparing to depart. He would only follow her. And Dorothea would still be stuck in Taengea. This time she would be without her treasured bow or any of her belongings. No, escaping now was not a good idea. She would have to devise a plan during the journey to lose this man.
It was rather unfortunate for him. Surely he had not known was in store for him when he accepted this charge. Perhaps he thought it would be easy—a reprieve. Dorothea glanced at him out of the side of her eye, trying to take him in. He had the stance of a solider and the look of a man who was very much lost. Dorothea knew because she had felt the same expression upon her own face. Was this what war did to everyone? Why did people choose to fight? Because of foolish men…
She let out a sigh before responding to Krysto, trying not to look too displeased. “It was truly my father who asked in the guise of my uncle. He’ll be the one to pay you when you deliver me back at his doorstep,” she said, more irritated at her father than anyone else. Why had he allowed her to believe she was making such a journey on her own and then hiring someone to protect her behind her back? That was why she’d had to sneak off to war.
“My apologies,” she said, turning to face Krysto, looking at him more intently. “You were quite unexpected. But please do call me Dorothea. I don’t care for formalities.” This didn’t mean she still wouldn’t spend the next two weeks searching for ways to leave him behind once they arrived in Colchis. For the time being, she would assess his worthiness as a traveling companion.
There were shouts on deck as the crew prepared to cast off. This was it, she thought as the ship slowly began to move. There was no turning back now. Dorothea turned back to face the water, taking in a last glance at the shoreline. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, it already escaping from her braid. She would have to redo it later. On her first long voyage to Egypt, she had discovered it was better to have her long hair carefully done up or else the tendrils in her face would drive her mad.
Krysto. His name sounded familiar. Then, she recalled she had seen him before. He was a close friend of King Achilleas and a military commander, if she was remembering correctly. What an interesting choice to partner him with her on this trip. She hoped he would not find himself too bored. Dorothea had brought her bow, but of course did not expect to use it in any defensive way. She was not planning on getting into fights.
“What has my uncle told you of this trip?” the woman asked curiously. Did he know that she was taking it because her soul was restless? Or because she could not seem to focus and find purpose in her life? Or because sleep often eluded her and that she no longer felt comfortable in her own home? Dorothea wondered which of those reasons sounded the least worrisome. Though, knowing her uncle Dorotheos, he had said something more innocent. After all, Dorothea did have some family remaining in Colchis. She did have reason to visit them. She hoped that it was a more innocent explanation, rather than a dissection of all of her anxieties.
“And what about it tempted a captain of the Tanegean Lions and king’s guard to leave his post?” Dorothea was blunt. When she wanted answers, she didn’t dance around the questions. Krysto would learn that in due time. Assuming he stuck around.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dorothea should have realized that she would not have been allowed to go on this trip alone. Her father trusted her, but not enough. For a moment, she relished the thought of a journey where she could be in true solitude before letting it go. For the next two weeks, she was stuck with this man. Unless…no, she could not make a hasty exit off the boat now. They were preparing to depart. He would only follow her. And Dorothea would still be stuck in Taengea. This time she would be without her treasured bow or any of her belongings. No, escaping now was not a good idea. She would have to devise a plan during the journey to lose this man.
It was rather unfortunate for him. Surely he had not known was in store for him when he accepted this charge. Perhaps he thought it would be easy—a reprieve. Dorothea glanced at him out of the side of her eye, trying to take him in. He had the stance of a solider and the look of a man who was very much lost. Dorothea knew because she had felt the same expression upon her own face. Was this what war did to everyone? Why did people choose to fight? Because of foolish men…
She let out a sigh before responding to Krysto, trying not to look too displeased. “It was truly my father who asked in the guise of my uncle. He’ll be the one to pay you when you deliver me back at his doorstep,” she said, more irritated at her father than anyone else. Why had he allowed her to believe she was making such a journey on her own and then hiring someone to protect her behind her back? That was why she’d had to sneak off to war.
“My apologies,” she said, turning to face Krysto, looking at him more intently. “You were quite unexpected. But please do call me Dorothea. I don’t care for formalities.” This didn’t mean she still wouldn’t spend the next two weeks searching for ways to leave him behind once they arrived in Colchis. For the time being, she would assess his worthiness as a traveling companion.
There were shouts on deck as the crew prepared to cast off. This was it, she thought as the ship slowly began to move. There was no turning back now. Dorothea turned back to face the water, taking in a last glance at the shoreline. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, it already escaping from her braid. She would have to redo it later. On her first long voyage to Egypt, she had discovered it was better to have her long hair carefully done up or else the tendrils in her face would drive her mad.
Krysto. His name sounded familiar. Then, she recalled she had seen him before. He was a close friend of King Achilleas and a military commander, if she was remembering correctly. What an interesting choice to partner him with her on this trip. She hoped he would not find himself too bored. Dorothea had brought her bow, but of course did not expect to use it in any defensive way. She was not planning on getting into fights.
“What has my uncle told you of this trip?” the woman asked curiously. Did he know that she was taking it because her soul was restless? Or because she could not seem to focus and find purpose in her life? Or because sleep often eluded her and that she no longer felt comfortable in her own home? Dorothea wondered which of those reasons sounded the least worrisome. Though, knowing her uncle Dorotheos, he had said something more innocent. After all, Dorothea did have some family remaining in Colchis. She did have reason to visit them. She hoped that it was a more innocent explanation, rather than a dissection of all of her anxieties.
“And what about it tempted a captain of the Tanegean Lions and king’s guard to leave his post?” Dorothea was blunt. When she wanted answers, she didn’t dance around the questions. Krysto would learn that in due time. Assuming he stuck around.
Dorothea should have realized that she would not have been allowed to go on this trip alone. Her father trusted her, but not enough. For a moment, she relished the thought of a journey where she could be in true solitude before letting it go. For the next two weeks, she was stuck with this man. Unless…no, she could not make a hasty exit off the boat now. They were preparing to depart. He would only follow her. And Dorothea would still be stuck in Taengea. This time she would be without her treasured bow or any of her belongings. No, escaping now was not a good idea. She would have to devise a plan during the journey to lose this man.
It was rather unfortunate for him. Surely he had not known was in store for him when he accepted this charge. Perhaps he thought it would be easy—a reprieve. Dorothea glanced at him out of the side of her eye, trying to take him in. He had the stance of a solider and the look of a man who was very much lost. Dorothea knew because she had felt the same expression upon her own face. Was this what war did to everyone? Why did people choose to fight? Because of foolish men…
She let out a sigh before responding to Krysto, trying not to look too displeased. “It was truly my father who asked in the guise of my uncle. He’ll be the one to pay you when you deliver me back at his doorstep,” she said, more irritated at her father than anyone else. Why had he allowed her to believe she was making such a journey on her own and then hiring someone to protect her behind her back? That was why she’d had to sneak off to war.
“My apologies,” she said, turning to face Krysto, looking at him more intently. “You were quite unexpected. But please do call me Dorothea. I don’t care for formalities.” This didn’t mean she still wouldn’t spend the next two weeks searching for ways to leave him behind once they arrived in Colchis. For the time being, she would assess his worthiness as a traveling companion.
There were shouts on deck as the crew prepared to cast off. This was it, she thought as the ship slowly began to move. There was no turning back now. Dorothea turned back to face the water, taking in a last glance at the shoreline. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, it already escaping from her braid. She would have to redo it later. On her first long voyage to Egypt, she had discovered it was better to have her long hair carefully done up or else the tendrils in her face would drive her mad.
Krysto. His name sounded familiar. Then, she recalled she had seen him before. He was a close friend of King Achilleas and a military commander, if she was remembering correctly. What an interesting choice to partner him with her on this trip. She hoped he would not find himself too bored. Dorothea had brought her bow, but of course did not expect to use it in any defensive way. She was not planning on getting into fights.
“What has my uncle told you of this trip?” the woman asked curiously. Did he know that she was taking it because her soul was restless? Or because she could not seem to focus and find purpose in her life? Or because sleep often eluded her and that she no longer felt comfortable in her own home? Dorothea wondered which of those reasons sounded the least worrisome. Though, knowing her uncle Dorotheos, he had said something more innocent. After all, Dorothea did have some family remaining in Colchis. She did have reason to visit them. She hoped that it was a more innocent explanation, rather than a dissection of all of her anxieties.
“And what about it tempted a captain of the Tanegean Lions and king’s guard to leave his post?” Dorothea was blunt. When she wanted answers, she didn’t dance around the questions. Krysto would learn that in due time. Assuming he stuck around.
She had a chip on her shoulder, and Krysto couldn't help but smile about it. It was subtle, but it was there. The result of a woman with a myraid of confidence that she didn't feel the need to prove. If Lord Gavriil or Lord Dorotheos knew anything it was Lady Dorothea, and he supposed that was why Krysto was standing before her right then. Because anyone else would have lost her already. He had planned well, not showing himself here until it was too late for her to really escape. But, if that was what he wanted, then he would give her the space and solitude she needed. From a proper distance and without impressing his own thoughts upon her.
She wouldn't be able to lose him, but she would at least find the comfort of a quiet companion rather than one who wanted to talk her ear off. He had little to talk about, having spent much of his life as a sounding board for others. Always in the service of others and never truly wanting to dredge up much about himself for others to get to know. He did not resent his confidants. He loved them, but he'd never truly given his own self thought. A private man, Krysto was not likely to prod the lady because taking meant giving, and he wasn't quite ready to do that again. With anyone.
"Dorothea," he said her name quietly, almost like a whisper on the wind that was starting to pick up as the ship set off. It was such an odd notion; to call someone of higher rank by their name and no title. A Captain did not compare to a lady, not even the captain of the Kingsguard. There was still a very long way to go. "I apologize for surprising you," the man conceded slowly, not wanting to start things off on the wrong foot just yet. He couldn't have her jumping overboard to get away from him, though that was a literal death sentence.
Krysto thought through what he new of Lady Dorothea. It was said that she was blessed by Artemis, a rumor that was even more apparent after her success at war. She had never shown much interest in men nor women, at least that he had seen in court. She made her home in the Taengean woods, but that seemed to suit her. Fair of features but lithe in build, he could truly picture her fighting on the frontlines, taking lives, which, in the moment, seemed inconsequential. Now, at the end of a war and faced with the reality, Krysto could see the exhaustion and the listlessness in her features. Reading people was something he had done for so long and he had looked at himself in the mirror enough to know what the pain of war looked like when etched into what should have been laugh lines rather than the furrowing of a brow.
He would have his work cut out for him, but it would be far more fruitful than his last campaign, he was sure.
Dorothea's question had him focusing on her words rather than her features, trying to find that focus with only one eye. Something he still wasn't used to even months later. "He simply stated that he would feel more comfortable if you had a companion traveling with you," Krysto admitted, his smile rather weak. It wasn't a lie. That was not something that he did. Untruths were not his forte. "He mentioned that you would be visting the Kotas first and foremost," he nodded a little to himself.
Her question question threw him off guard, causing him to shift a little as if he was uncomfortable that she had asked at all. His reasons were his own, but, as always when it came to nobility, he felt chastened to admit the truth. "I'm sure that they are the same troubles that have chased you from your own home, Dorothea," Krysto murmured, looking back out toward the ocean. Once more, he found himself leaning on the railing of the ship, a deep sigh passing through his nose. "This is my second time returning from war, but this time was much harder than the last."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She had a chip on her shoulder, and Krysto couldn't help but smile about it. It was subtle, but it was there. The result of a woman with a myraid of confidence that she didn't feel the need to prove. If Lord Gavriil or Lord Dorotheos knew anything it was Lady Dorothea, and he supposed that was why Krysto was standing before her right then. Because anyone else would have lost her already. He had planned well, not showing himself here until it was too late for her to really escape. But, if that was what he wanted, then he would give her the space and solitude she needed. From a proper distance and without impressing his own thoughts upon her.
She wouldn't be able to lose him, but she would at least find the comfort of a quiet companion rather than one who wanted to talk her ear off. He had little to talk about, having spent much of his life as a sounding board for others. Always in the service of others and never truly wanting to dredge up much about himself for others to get to know. He did not resent his confidants. He loved them, but he'd never truly given his own self thought. A private man, Krysto was not likely to prod the lady because taking meant giving, and he wasn't quite ready to do that again. With anyone.
"Dorothea," he said her name quietly, almost like a whisper on the wind that was starting to pick up as the ship set off. It was such an odd notion; to call someone of higher rank by their name and no title. A Captain did not compare to a lady, not even the captain of the Kingsguard. There was still a very long way to go. "I apologize for surprising you," the man conceded slowly, not wanting to start things off on the wrong foot just yet. He couldn't have her jumping overboard to get away from him, though that was a literal death sentence.
Krysto thought through what he new of Lady Dorothea. It was said that she was blessed by Artemis, a rumor that was even more apparent after her success at war. She had never shown much interest in men nor women, at least that he had seen in court. She made her home in the Taengean woods, but that seemed to suit her. Fair of features but lithe in build, he could truly picture her fighting on the frontlines, taking lives, which, in the moment, seemed inconsequential. Now, at the end of a war and faced with the reality, Krysto could see the exhaustion and the listlessness in her features. Reading people was something he had done for so long and he had looked at himself in the mirror enough to know what the pain of war looked like when etched into what should have been laugh lines rather than the furrowing of a brow.
He would have his work cut out for him, but it would be far more fruitful than his last campaign, he was sure.
Dorothea's question had him focusing on her words rather than her features, trying to find that focus with only one eye. Something he still wasn't used to even months later. "He simply stated that he would feel more comfortable if you had a companion traveling with you," Krysto admitted, his smile rather weak. It wasn't a lie. That was not something that he did. Untruths were not his forte. "He mentioned that you would be visting the Kotas first and foremost," he nodded a little to himself.
Her question question threw him off guard, causing him to shift a little as if he was uncomfortable that she had asked at all. His reasons were his own, but, as always when it came to nobility, he felt chastened to admit the truth. "I'm sure that they are the same troubles that have chased you from your own home, Dorothea," Krysto murmured, looking back out toward the ocean. Once more, he found himself leaning on the railing of the ship, a deep sigh passing through his nose. "This is my second time returning from war, but this time was much harder than the last."
She had a chip on her shoulder, and Krysto couldn't help but smile about it. It was subtle, but it was there. The result of a woman with a myraid of confidence that she didn't feel the need to prove. If Lord Gavriil or Lord Dorotheos knew anything it was Lady Dorothea, and he supposed that was why Krysto was standing before her right then. Because anyone else would have lost her already. He had planned well, not showing himself here until it was too late for her to really escape. But, if that was what he wanted, then he would give her the space and solitude she needed. From a proper distance and without impressing his own thoughts upon her.
She wouldn't be able to lose him, but she would at least find the comfort of a quiet companion rather than one who wanted to talk her ear off. He had little to talk about, having spent much of his life as a sounding board for others. Always in the service of others and never truly wanting to dredge up much about himself for others to get to know. He did not resent his confidants. He loved them, but he'd never truly given his own self thought. A private man, Krysto was not likely to prod the lady because taking meant giving, and he wasn't quite ready to do that again. With anyone.
"Dorothea," he said her name quietly, almost like a whisper on the wind that was starting to pick up as the ship set off. It was such an odd notion; to call someone of higher rank by their name and no title. A Captain did not compare to a lady, not even the captain of the Kingsguard. There was still a very long way to go. "I apologize for surprising you," the man conceded slowly, not wanting to start things off on the wrong foot just yet. He couldn't have her jumping overboard to get away from him, though that was a literal death sentence.
Krysto thought through what he new of Lady Dorothea. It was said that she was blessed by Artemis, a rumor that was even more apparent after her success at war. She had never shown much interest in men nor women, at least that he had seen in court. She made her home in the Taengean woods, but that seemed to suit her. Fair of features but lithe in build, he could truly picture her fighting on the frontlines, taking lives, which, in the moment, seemed inconsequential. Now, at the end of a war and faced with the reality, Krysto could see the exhaustion and the listlessness in her features. Reading people was something he had done for so long and he had looked at himself in the mirror enough to know what the pain of war looked like when etched into what should have been laugh lines rather than the furrowing of a brow.
He would have his work cut out for him, but it would be far more fruitful than his last campaign, he was sure.
Dorothea's question had him focusing on her words rather than her features, trying to find that focus with only one eye. Something he still wasn't used to even months later. "He simply stated that he would feel more comfortable if you had a companion traveling with you," Krysto admitted, his smile rather weak. It wasn't a lie. That was not something that he did. Untruths were not his forte. "He mentioned that you would be visting the Kotas first and foremost," he nodded a little to himself.
Her question question threw him off guard, causing him to shift a little as if he was uncomfortable that she had asked at all. His reasons were his own, but, as always when it came to nobility, he felt chastened to admit the truth. "I'm sure that they are the same troubles that have chased you from your own home, Dorothea," Krysto murmured, looking back out toward the ocean. Once more, he found himself leaning on the railing of the ship, a deep sigh passing through his nose. "This is my second time returning from war, but this time was much harder than the last."
It was a kind gesture, his apology, though it’s design was likely to keep the peace between them for now. The boat was well out of the harbor now, so Dorothea didn’t suppose either of them had any escape options. Though of course, he did not want to escape, but he might think she could be driven to push him over. Which of course, Dorothea would not do. It was not Krysto’s fault that he had been given a difficult charge. She would not hold it against him. His next words were straight from both her father’s and uncle’s mouths. They had been willing to let her go, but of course with stipulations.
“Will you send any reports to him?” Dorothea asked suddenly, wondering what other instructions might have accompanied his orders. She didn’t like to think that he would be watching her like that. Her family was concerned about her, but would they go so far as to ask for updates from a near stranger? Dorothea had already promised to write to them often. She would make a true effort, so as not to worry them. She knew that before she hadn’t told them anything, but this time would be different. Dorothea didn’t want to inflict any more worry upon her poor father’s heart. Dorothea wasn’t about to confess any of her own insecurities, but knew that his answer might just change how she behaved around him. She would not allow herself to become comfortable. He would never get anything from her.
Dorothea saw that her second question caused him some discomfort, but it had to be asked. She did not like the idea of traveling with a stranger without knowing at least some of his intentions. How much had her uncle offered to pay him? Surely that was not a lucrative enough sum to tempt him from his current position.
Krysto’s response, however, chastened her. Dorothea stared down at her hands, which were firmly gripping the rails. She appreciated his honesty. Another man might not have admitted as much. But Dorothea would not use it against him. She understood what he meant. She also could not imagine having gone to war twice. Once was enough. More than enough. It was terrible. Dorothea would not wish it upon anyone. It was foolish to think that war was a practical solution to anything.
“Thank you for your honesty, Krysto,” Dorothea said softly. She was still not convinced that she was happy to have him on this journey, but she was beginning to believe that perhaps all of his motivations weren’t simply about tracking her. After the war, it was difficult to return to normal life. They all deserved a break of some kind.
Dorothea took a deep breath, allowing her hands to loosen slightly on the rails. The city was fading into the distance now. It was amazing how vast the sea was. Taengea would soon be out of sight, but they would still have days on the sea to reach their destination. This was once a journey she would have been so excited about. Dorothea had always longed to travel to the places that she read about. However, now the excitement was dulled by the atrocities of war.
They were quiet for a bit, Dorothea caught up in her own thoughts, eyes on the sea. Every so often she snuck a glance at Krysto, both wondering what he was thinking and grateful for his silence. Perhaps it would not be so terrible to have him as a traveling companion.
“My cousin once told me that war was inevitable. That it is a fact of life and there is nothing we can do to avoid it. There will always be war. I do not believe I can agree with that assessment. It is the greater travesty that war is repeated. Nobody truly wins.”
She did know why she said that. Dorothea did not pity him for his experiences but was sad that he had to go through war twice. She understood its horrors.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was a kind gesture, his apology, though it’s design was likely to keep the peace between them for now. The boat was well out of the harbor now, so Dorothea didn’t suppose either of them had any escape options. Though of course, he did not want to escape, but he might think she could be driven to push him over. Which of course, Dorothea would not do. It was not Krysto’s fault that he had been given a difficult charge. She would not hold it against him. His next words were straight from both her father’s and uncle’s mouths. They had been willing to let her go, but of course with stipulations.
“Will you send any reports to him?” Dorothea asked suddenly, wondering what other instructions might have accompanied his orders. She didn’t like to think that he would be watching her like that. Her family was concerned about her, but would they go so far as to ask for updates from a near stranger? Dorothea had already promised to write to them often. She would make a true effort, so as not to worry them. She knew that before she hadn’t told them anything, but this time would be different. Dorothea didn’t want to inflict any more worry upon her poor father’s heart. Dorothea wasn’t about to confess any of her own insecurities, but knew that his answer might just change how she behaved around him. She would not allow herself to become comfortable. He would never get anything from her.
Dorothea saw that her second question caused him some discomfort, but it had to be asked. She did not like the idea of traveling with a stranger without knowing at least some of his intentions. How much had her uncle offered to pay him? Surely that was not a lucrative enough sum to tempt him from his current position.
Krysto’s response, however, chastened her. Dorothea stared down at her hands, which were firmly gripping the rails. She appreciated his honesty. Another man might not have admitted as much. But Dorothea would not use it against him. She understood what he meant. She also could not imagine having gone to war twice. Once was enough. More than enough. It was terrible. Dorothea would not wish it upon anyone. It was foolish to think that war was a practical solution to anything.
“Thank you for your honesty, Krysto,” Dorothea said softly. She was still not convinced that she was happy to have him on this journey, but she was beginning to believe that perhaps all of his motivations weren’t simply about tracking her. After the war, it was difficult to return to normal life. They all deserved a break of some kind.
Dorothea took a deep breath, allowing her hands to loosen slightly on the rails. The city was fading into the distance now. It was amazing how vast the sea was. Taengea would soon be out of sight, but they would still have days on the sea to reach their destination. This was once a journey she would have been so excited about. Dorothea had always longed to travel to the places that she read about. However, now the excitement was dulled by the atrocities of war.
They were quiet for a bit, Dorothea caught up in her own thoughts, eyes on the sea. Every so often she snuck a glance at Krysto, both wondering what he was thinking and grateful for his silence. Perhaps it would not be so terrible to have him as a traveling companion.
“My cousin once told me that war was inevitable. That it is a fact of life and there is nothing we can do to avoid it. There will always be war. I do not believe I can agree with that assessment. It is the greater travesty that war is repeated. Nobody truly wins.”
She did know why she said that. Dorothea did not pity him for his experiences but was sad that he had to go through war twice. She understood its horrors.
It was a kind gesture, his apology, though it’s design was likely to keep the peace between them for now. The boat was well out of the harbor now, so Dorothea didn’t suppose either of them had any escape options. Though of course, he did not want to escape, but he might think she could be driven to push him over. Which of course, Dorothea would not do. It was not Krysto’s fault that he had been given a difficult charge. She would not hold it against him. His next words were straight from both her father’s and uncle’s mouths. They had been willing to let her go, but of course with stipulations.
“Will you send any reports to him?” Dorothea asked suddenly, wondering what other instructions might have accompanied his orders. She didn’t like to think that he would be watching her like that. Her family was concerned about her, but would they go so far as to ask for updates from a near stranger? Dorothea had already promised to write to them often. She would make a true effort, so as not to worry them. She knew that before she hadn’t told them anything, but this time would be different. Dorothea didn’t want to inflict any more worry upon her poor father’s heart. Dorothea wasn’t about to confess any of her own insecurities, but knew that his answer might just change how she behaved around him. She would not allow herself to become comfortable. He would never get anything from her.
Dorothea saw that her second question caused him some discomfort, but it had to be asked. She did not like the idea of traveling with a stranger without knowing at least some of his intentions. How much had her uncle offered to pay him? Surely that was not a lucrative enough sum to tempt him from his current position.
Krysto’s response, however, chastened her. Dorothea stared down at her hands, which were firmly gripping the rails. She appreciated his honesty. Another man might not have admitted as much. But Dorothea would not use it against him. She understood what he meant. She also could not imagine having gone to war twice. Once was enough. More than enough. It was terrible. Dorothea would not wish it upon anyone. It was foolish to think that war was a practical solution to anything.
“Thank you for your honesty, Krysto,” Dorothea said softly. She was still not convinced that she was happy to have him on this journey, but she was beginning to believe that perhaps all of his motivations weren’t simply about tracking her. After the war, it was difficult to return to normal life. They all deserved a break of some kind.
Dorothea took a deep breath, allowing her hands to loosen slightly on the rails. The city was fading into the distance now. It was amazing how vast the sea was. Taengea would soon be out of sight, but they would still have days on the sea to reach their destination. This was once a journey she would have been so excited about. Dorothea had always longed to travel to the places that she read about. However, now the excitement was dulled by the atrocities of war.
They were quiet for a bit, Dorothea caught up in her own thoughts, eyes on the sea. Every so often she snuck a glance at Krysto, both wondering what he was thinking and grateful for his silence. Perhaps it would not be so terrible to have him as a traveling companion.
“My cousin once told me that war was inevitable. That it is a fact of life and there is nothing we can do to avoid it. There will always be war. I do not believe I can agree with that assessment. It is the greater travesty that war is repeated. Nobody truly wins.”
She did know why she said that. Dorothea did not pity him for his experiences but was sad that he had to go through war twice. She understood its horrors.
This was going deceptively well, and Krysto didn't know how to feel. He didn't trust this feeling, surely. He couldn't, in that moment, trust Dorothea as far as he could possibly throw her. Could he trust her to have his back in a fight? Absolutely. She'd proven that much in the war. But... could he trust her not to bolt off on him and try to lose him at every single avenue? No. Absolutely not. His one blue eye watched her keenly, noting her body language and her facial expressions, trying to assess if there was going to be a problem.
Yes. There were. And, admittedly, he was going to be ready for them.
It was Dorothea's question of him that had him pausing, his brows furrowing slightly. Send reports to him? No. That hadn't been anything they'd talked about. And even if it had been asked of him, Krysto wasn't sure that he would have done it. There were only a few people that he would go to such lengths for, and Lord Gavriil and Lord Dorotheos were not those people. If Lady Dorothea was going on a trip like this, there was a reason... so that meant discretion and privacy, two things that he would strive to give her at every avenue while always remaining close enough to being there if he needed her.
Dorothea was not a weak woman. He could see that as plain and clear as anyone, though he thought that maybe he saw it a little more intensely in her. It was likely that Lord Gavriil had too. War changed people. Not just men, but women soldiers, mothers and siblings caught in the crossfire. Innocents. War changed everyone whether they had a hand in it or not. The people that they killed had families. They had people who had loved and adored them and would demonize the Greeks for their part in taking their lives from this world. In the same way that the Greeks would demonize the Egyptians for taking their fathers and sons, uncles and brothers. It was an endless cycle of blame, and Krysto was feeling sick to his stomach for having any part of it at all.
"No, Dorothea. I have no plans in breeching your privacy," Krysto finally answered, his brow knit into one of concerted politeness and honesty. "Even if either your father or your uncle had asked me to do such a thing, I would not have agreed to it. This is as much about your privacy and solitude as it is my own."
His companion would quickly find that Krysto trusted few people. Anyone they came across he would watch with quiet resignation, observation, trying to learn what made them tick and avoiding whatever would throw either himself or Dorothea into their ill graces. He would not trust people who did not need to know their business with any lick of information that might allude to the two of them. Where they went, they would be seen, but not followed by word of mouth. At least not on Krysto's part.
Humming a little, he leaned heavily back onto the railing, looking at the waves. They weren't nearly as choppy as they were when the storm had hit their ship as they crossed from Greece to Egypt. Krysto thought of the feeling of his stomach dropping into his bowels as the waves tried to rip them apart and deposited them on the banks of that Egyptian beach that settled their fates early on in the war. "You don't need to thank me," Krysto finally murmured, brushing some of his long curls back. "I don't live my life speaking half-truths or lies. My curse is honesty, or pure omission," he admitted calmly, "Everything or nothing."
The silence that fell between them was... relaxing. It settled his stomach, his nerves, his muscles. He found himself less coiled to spring and more apt to listen to the words Dorothea spoke once the since seemed to grow to be too much for either of them. She was wise, and he found himself turning slightly so that he could lean his hip on the railing and watch her more fully. "You're right," Krysto admitted calmly, "No one wins. Its an endless cycle that we throw ourselves back into for the sake of nationalism and protection of our people. When one person wants more power than what they hold, everyone loses. Even those of us trying to protect ourselves," he admitted, his blue eye trailing up toward the sky to watch the gulls above their heads.
"I'm sure you're feeling some of the effects," Krysto observed, "The sleeplessness. A mind that never quiets. Memories that never fade in color, though they lose the amount of detail. Red is a color I see in my dreams. And gold," Krysto murmured. Like the sands that many had bled and died on.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
This was going deceptively well, and Krysto didn't know how to feel. He didn't trust this feeling, surely. He couldn't, in that moment, trust Dorothea as far as he could possibly throw her. Could he trust her to have his back in a fight? Absolutely. She'd proven that much in the war. But... could he trust her not to bolt off on him and try to lose him at every single avenue? No. Absolutely not. His one blue eye watched her keenly, noting her body language and her facial expressions, trying to assess if there was going to be a problem.
Yes. There were. And, admittedly, he was going to be ready for them.
It was Dorothea's question of him that had him pausing, his brows furrowing slightly. Send reports to him? No. That hadn't been anything they'd talked about. And even if it had been asked of him, Krysto wasn't sure that he would have done it. There were only a few people that he would go to such lengths for, and Lord Gavriil and Lord Dorotheos were not those people. If Lady Dorothea was going on a trip like this, there was a reason... so that meant discretion and privacy, two things that he would strive to give her at every avenue while always remaining close enough to being there if he needed her.
Dorothea was not a weak woman. He could see that as plain and clear as anyone, though he thought that maybe he saw it a little more intensely in her. It was likely that Lord Gavriil had too. War changed people. Not just men, but women soldiers, mothers and siblings caught in the crossfire. Innocents. War changed everyone whether they had a hand in it or not. The people that they killed had families. They had people who had loved and adored them and would demonize the Greeks for their part in taking their lives from this world. In the same way that the Greeks would demonize the Egyptians for taking their fathers and sons, uncles and brothers. It was an endless cycle of blame, and Krysto was feeling sick to his stomach for having any part of it at all.
"No, Dorothea. I have no plans in breeching your privacy," Krysto finally answered, his brow knit into one of concerted politeness and honesty. "Even if either your father or your uncle had asked me to do such a thing, I would not have agreed to it. This is as much about your privacy and solitude as it is my own."
His companion would quickly find that Krysto trusted few people. Anyone they came across he would watch with quiet resignation, observation, trying to learn what made them tick and avoiding whatever would throw either himself or Dorothea into their ill graces. He would not trust people who did not need to know their business with any lick of information that might allude to the two of them. Where they went, they would be seen, but not followed by word of mouth. At least not on Krysto's part.
Humming a little, he leaned heavily back onto the railing, looking at the waves. They weren't nearly as choppy as they were when the storm had hit their ship as they crossed from Greece to Egypt. Krysto thought of the feeling of his stomach dropping into his bowels as the waves tried to rip them apart and deposited them on the banks of that Egyptian beach that settled their fates early on in the war. "You don't need to thank me," Krysto finally murmured, brushing some of his long curls back. "I don't live my life speaking half-truths or lies. My curse is honesty, or pure omission," he admitted calmly, "Everything or nothing."
The silence that fell between them was... relaxing. It settled his stomach, his nerves, his muscles. He found himself less coiled to spring and more apt to listen to the words Dorothea spoke once the since seemed to grow to be too much for either of them. She was wise, and he found himself turning slightly so that he could lean his hip on the railing and watch her more fully. "You're right," Krysto admitted calmly, "No one wins. Its an endless cycle that we throw ourselves back into for the sake of nationalism and protection of our people. When one person wants more power than what they hold, everyone loses. Even those of us trying to protect ourselves," he admitted, his blue eye trailing up toward the sky to watch the gulls above their heads.
"I'm sure you're feeling some of the effects," Krysto observed, "The sleeplessness. A mind that never quiets. Memories that never fade in color, though they lose the amount of detail. Red is a color I see in my dreams. And gold," Krysto murmured. Like the sands that many had bled and died on.
This was going deceptively well, and Krysto didn't know how to feel. He didn't trust this feeling, surely. He couldn't, in that moment, trust Dorothea as far as he could possibly throw her. Could he trust her to have his back in a fight? Absolutely. She'd proven that much in the war. But... could he trust her not to bolt off on him and try to lose him at every single avenue? No. Absolutely not. His one blue eye watched her keenly, noting her body language and her facial expressions, trying to assess if there was going to be a problem.
Yes. There were. And, admittedly, he was going to be ready for them.
It was Dorothea's question of him that had him pausing, his brows furrowing slightly. Send reports to him? No. That hadn't been anything they'd talked about. And even if it had been asked of him, Krysto wasn't sure that he would have done it. There were only a few people that he would go to such lengths for, and Lord Gavriil and Lord Dorotheos were not those people. If Lady Dorothea was going on a trip like this, there was a reason... so that meant discretion and privacy, two things that he would strive to give her at every avenue while always remaining close enough to being there if he needed her.
Dorothea was not a weak woman. He could see that as plain and clear as anyone, though he thought that maybe he saw it a little more intensely in her. It was likely that Lord Gavriil had too. War changed people. Not just men, but women soldiers, mothers and siblings caught in the crossfire. Innocents. War changed everyone whether they had a hand in it or not. The people that they killed had families. They had people who had loved and adored them and would demonize the Greeks for their part in taking their lives from this world. In the same way that the Greeks would demonize the Egyptians for taking their fathers and sons, uncles and brothers. It was an endless cycle of blame, and Krysto was feeling sick to his stomach for having any part of it at all.
"No, Dorothea. I have no plans in breeching your privacy," Krysto finally answered, his brow knit into one of concerted politeness and honesty. "Even if either your father or your uncle had asked me to do such a thing, I would not have agreed to it. This is as much about your privacy and solitude as it is my own."
His companion would quickly find that Krysto trusted few people. Anyone they came across he would watch with quiet resignation, observation, trying to learn what made them tick and avoiding whatever would throw either himself or Dorothea into their ill graces. He would not trust people who did not need to know their business with any lick of information that might allude to the two of them. Where they went, they would be seen, but not followed by word of mouth. At least not on Krysto's part.
Humming a little, he leaned heavily back onto the railing, looking at the waves. They weren't nearly as choppy as they were when the storm had hit their ship as they crossed from Greece to Egypt. Krysto thought of the feeling of his stomach dropping into his bowels as the waves tried to rip them apart and deposited them on the banks of that Egyptian beach that settled their fates early on in the war. "You don't need to thank me," Krysto finally murmured, brushing some of his long curls back. "I don't live my life speaking half-truths or lies. My curse is honesty, or pure omission," he admitted calmly, "Everything or nothing."
The silence that fell between them was... relaxing. It settled his stomach, his nerves, his muscles. He found himself less coiled to spring and more apt to listen to the words Dorothea spoke once the since seemed to grow to be too much for either of them. She was wise, and he found himself turning slightly so that he could lean his hip on the railing and watch her more fully. "You're right," Krysto admitted calmly, "No one wins. Its an endless cycle that we throw ourselves back into for the sake of nationalism and protection of our people. When one person wants more power than what they hold, everyone loses. Even those of us trying to protect ourselves," he admitted, his blue eye trailing up toward the sky to watch the gulls above their heads.
"I'm sure you're feeling some of the effects," Krysto observed, "The sleeplessness. A mind that never quiets. Memories that never fade in color, though they lose the amount of detail. Red is a color I see in my dreams. And gold," Krysto murmured. Like the sands that many had bled and died on.
She felt she could breathe again, hearing Krysto’s answer. Dorothea didn’t realize just how tense she had been, wondering if he was going to report every move back to her father and uncle. As much as she knew they cared, they didn’t need to know every intimate moment of her life. For that matter, neither did Krysto. He was still a stranger to her. But if he was going to be in close proximity with her—even if it was only for the two weeks they were on this ship—there would be no doubt that he would see some of her anxieties. The thought of that did not please her much, but at this point there was nothing more she could do about it aside from what she had been doing at home—keeping to herself and saying little to her family. Krysto didn’t seem like much of a talker, so perhaps that would be just fine here.
Dorothea glanced at him, as he continued to explain that he took her privacy seriously. She saw by his expression that he wasn’t lying. It gave her great relief, but took a moment for some of the anxiety to leave her body. She wondered if she might vomit, unsure if that was an emotional reaction or a byproduct of being on the ship. The waves had grown larger the further out to sea they went. Dorothea looked away from Krysto, willing herself to slow down and breathe. She always pictured her mother telling her to calm herself, just as she had when Dorothea was a child. It was a soothing image and perhaps her most used coping mechanism as of late.
She was sure that she looked completely foolish to him, but couldn’t summon additional willpower to care in that moment. Besides, Dorothea had never cared what she looked like to others. She was her own person, not worried about what others thought of her. It had served her well in life so far, providing her with only the truest of friends and companions, rather than the fake lies of court.
Finally, her racing heart under control, she answered. “That is a relief. My father and uncle care for me greatly, but sometimes they show this in peculiar ways.” Of course, Dorothea meant Krysto’s presence on this trip, but it would have been far worse if he was also reporting on her. She, of course, still could not be sure that he was being truthful, but something about the way he looked made her think he was sincere. Dorothea didn’t often place great trust in men, but believed this was one instance that she might make an exception.
She was surprised to find herself relating to him when he proclaimed to be truthful. Dorothea lived her life in such a way as well. She was not one for sugarcoating something to make it easier to swallow. It was far simpler if she just told the truth.
“Perhaps we will get along just fine then,” Dorothea replied, smiling slightly. “I do not believe that is a worthy use of my time to spend it lying. I have been called painfully direct in the past and now believe it is even a bigger waste of time to tell untruths. We have precious little time as it is.”
How was it, she pondered, that they could have turned the conversation around so quickly? Was it not just a short time ago that they boarded the ship and Dorothea discovered her father’s plan to protect her? By all accounts, Dorothea should still feel uneasy around this man. He was a kink in her plan—completely unexpected. She had meant to take this trip alone and now he was to be her companion. In the past, Dorothea supposed she would have let the anger fester, but now it seemed pointless. Further, she felt so oddly at ease in their conversation. He was a good listener, but even more than that, he seemed to understand her.
Dorothea felt herself go hot and cold as he spoke of the effects of war. How could he know that was exactly what she felt if he did not feel it himself? Of course he had suffered, the proof was there on his face, both under the eyepatch and in his expression. But it was more than just that. It was the deep feelings inside that seemed to haunt her day and night.
“The sands,” she whispered, describing his color without thinking. “So like and unlike Greece. I dream of that too.” And everything else. He had described her. “I feel foolish sometimes for ever wanting to go to war in the first place,” she admitted. “I snuck away to join the Colchian army. At home I felt useless. I was given this great skill and thought I should do something with it. Protect our people. I left hoping to find myself, but instead feel more lost.” Dorothea had no idea why she was admitting any of this to him—she had barely been able to admit it to herself.
“Do those feelings ever go away?” she asked, her eyes turning to meet his, hoping for some kind of answer.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She felt she could breathe again, hearing Krysto’s answer. Dorothea didn’t realize just how tense she had been, wondering if he was going to report every move back to her father and uncle. As much as she knew they cared, they didn’t need to know every intimate moment of her life. For that matter, neither did Krysto. He was still a stranger to her. But if he was going to be in close proximity with her—even if it was only for the two weeks they were on this ship—there would be no doubt that he would see some of her anxieties. The thought of that did not please her much, but at this point there was nothing more she could do about it aside from what she had been doing at home—keeping to herself and saying little to her family. Krysto didn’t seem like much of a talker, so perhaps that would be just fine here.
Dorothea glanced at him, as he continued to explain that he took her privacy seriously. She saw by his expression that he wasn’t lying. It gave her great relief, but took a moment for some of the anxiety to leave her body. She wondered if she might vomit, unsure if that was an emotional reaction or a byproduct of being on the ship. The waves had grown larger the further out to sea they went. Dorothea looked away from Krysto, willing herself to slow down and breathe. She always pictured her mother telling her to calm herself, just as she had when Dorothea was a child. It was a soothing image and perhaps her most used coping mechanism as of late.
She was sure that she looked completely foolish to him, but couldn’t summon additional willpower to care in that moment. Besides, Dorothea had never cared what she looked like to others. She was her own person, not worried about what others thought of her. It had served her well in life so far, providing her with only the truest of friends and companions, rather than the fake lies of court.
Finally, her racing heart under control, she answered. “That is a relief. My father and uncle care for me greatly, but sometimes they show this in peculiar ways.” Of course, Dorothea meant Krysto’s presence on this trip, but it would have been far worse if he was also reporting on her. She, of course, still could not be sure that he was being truthful, but something about the way he looked made her think he was sincere. Dorothea didn’t often place great trust in men, but believed this was one instance that she might make an exception.
She was surprised to find herself relating to him when he proclaimed to be truthful. Dorothea lived her life in such a way as well. She was not one for sugarcoating something to make it easier to swallow. It was far simpler if she just told the truth.
“Perhaps we will get along just fine then,” Dorothea replied, smiling slightly. “I do not believe that is a worthy use of my time to spend it lying. I have been called painfully direct in the past and now believe it is even a bigger waste of time to tell untruths. We have precious little time as it is.”
How was it, she pondered, that they could have turned the conversation around so quickly? Was it not just a short time ago that they boarded the ship and Dorothea discovered her father’s plan to protect her? By all accounts, Dorothea should still feel uneasy around this man. He was a kink in her plan—completely unexpected. She had meant to take this trip alone and now he was to be her companion. In the past, Dorothea supposed she would have let the anger fester, but now it seemed pointless. Further, she felt so oddly at ease in their conversation. He was a good listener, but even more than that, he seemed to understand her.
Dorothea felt herself go hot and cold as he spoke of the effects of war. How could he know that was exactly what she felt if he did not feel it himself? Of course he had suffered, the proof was there on his face, both under the eyepatch and in his expression. But it was more than just that. It was the deep feelings inside that seemed to haunt her day and night.
“The sands,” she whispered, describing his color without thinking. “So like and unlike Greece. I dream of that too.” And everything else. He had described her. “I feel foolish sometimes for ever wanting to go to war in the first place,” she admitted. “I snuck away to join the Colchian army. At home I felt useless. I was given this great skill and thought I should do something with it. Protect our people. I left hoping to find myself, but instead feel more lost.” Dorothea had no idea why she was admitting any of this to him—she had barely been able to admit it to herself.
“Do those feelings ever go away?” she asked, her eyes turning to meet his, hoping for some kind of answer.
She felt she could breathe again, hearing Krysto’s answer. Dorothea didn’t realize just how tense she had been, wondering if he was going to report every move back to her father and uncle. As much as she knew they cared, they didn’t need to know every intimate moment of her life. For that matter, neither did Krysto. He was still a stranger to her. But if he was going to be in close proximity with her—even if it was only for the two weeks they were on this ship—there would be no doubt that he would see some of her anxieties. The thought of that did not please her much, but at this point there was nothing more she could do about it aside from what she had been doing at home—keeping to herself and saying little to her family. Krysto didn’t seem like much of a talker, so perhaps that would be just fine here.
Dorothea glanced at him, as he continued to explain that he took her privacy seriously. She saw by his expression that he wasn’t lying. It gave her great relief, but took a moment for some of the anxiety to leave her body. She wondered if she might vomit, unsure if that was an emotional reaction or a byproduct of being on the ship. The waves had grown larger the further out to sea they went. Dorothea looked away from Krysto, willing herself to slow down and breathe. She always pictured her mother telling her to calm herself, just as she had when Dorothea was a child. It was a soothing image and perhaps her most used coping mechanism as of late.
She was sure that she looked completely foolish to him, but couldn’t summon additional willpower to care in that moment. Besides, Dorothea had never cared what she looked like to others. She was her own person, not worried about what others thought of her. It had served her well in life so far, providing her with only the truest of friends and companions, rather than the fake lies of court.
Finally, her racing heart under control, she answered. “That is a relief. My father and uncle care for me greatly, but sometimes they show this in peculiar ways.” Of course, Dorothea meant Krysto’s presence on this trip, but it would have been far worse if he was also reporting on her. She, of course, still could not be sure that he was being truthful, but something about the way he looked made her think he was sincere. Dorothea didn’t often place great trust in men, but believed this was one instance that she might make an exception.
She was surprised to find herself relating to him when he proclaimed to be truthful. Dorothea lived her life in such a way as well. She was not one for sugarcoating something to make it easier to swallow. It was far simpler if she just told the truth.
“Perhaps we will get along just fine then,” Dorothea replied, smiling slightly. “I do not believe that is a worthy use of my time to spend it lying. I have been called painfully direct in the past and now believe it is even a bigger waste of time to tell untruths. We have precious little time as it is.”
How was it, she pondered, that they could have turned the conversation around so quickly? Was it not just a short time ago that they boarded the ship and Dorothea discovered her father’s plan to protect her? By all accounts, Dorothea should still feel uneasy around this man. He was a kink in her plan—completely unexpected. She had meant to take this trip alone and now he was to be her companion. In the past, Dorothea supposed she would have let the anger fester, but now it seemed pointless. Further, she felt so oddly at ease in their conversation. He was a good listener, but even more than that, he seemed to understand her.
Dorothea felt herself go hot and cold as he spoke of the effects of war. How could he know that was exactly what she felt if he did not feel it himself? Of course he had suffered, the proof was there on his face, both under the eyepatch and in his expression. But it was more than just that. It was the deep feelings inside that seemed to haunt her day and night.
“The sands,” she whispered, describing his color without thinking. “So like and unlike Greece. I dream of that too.” And everything else. He had described her. “I feel foolish sometimes for ever wanting to go to war in the first place,” she admitted. “I snuck away to join the Colchian army. At home I felt useless. I was given this great skill and thought I should do something with it. Protect our people. I left hoping to find myself, but instead feel more lost.” Dorothea had no idea why she was admitting any of this to him—she had barely been able to admit it to herself.
“Do those feelings ever go away?” she asked, her eyes turning to meet his, hoping for some kind of answer.
Krysto liked this girl on principle. They had enough in common right off the bat to put him immediately at ease in her presence. He was not sure that she wouldn't run off on him, but he wondered if he could wear her down over the next few weeks to ensure that she would stick to his side like glue. Though he didn't really think it would be a massive deal for Dorothea to go off on her own, he also wasn't sure that he wanted to make his own journey on his own. Her journey was his, but he still didn't wish to wander without another person to watch his back. Woman or not, Krysto was absolutely sure that she could pack a strong punch.
And if she couldn't, he would teach her what she had not learned in her short time with the Colchians. Being stuck on a ship would be immensely boring after a time. Even when they had been on the way to Egypt, he hadn't been able to sit still for long. A sedentary lifestyle was not something he valued. He could never just sit in one place for so long. Such was one of the many reasons he never became an artist or a full-fledged Physician like the other numerous members of his family. Even as a boy, sitting still hadn't been anything he could handle for very long. He was intelligent and well-read, but much of his learning had been done while also pacing, wandering the large home his family owned, or a million other things.
Dorothea reminded him of himself, and though he wasn't much older than her, he remembered being her age and not being able to settle. Sure, Dorothea's issues stemmed from what she had seen of war. But there had been something that drew her in that direction in the first place, and he was sure that he had felt that same feeling once or twice in his life.
"We are of like mind in that regard," Krysto spoke slowly, though not because he didn't think she could keep up, but because he always thought through each word with agonizing detail. Mostly with those he did not know well. When it came to Achilleas or Stephanos, he was never usually afraid to say the first thing that came to mind, even if he ended up laid out flat on the ground for it. But here, he wished to be careful. He did not feel, despite the connection they were already forming, that he had that sort of relationship with Lady Dorothea.
At least not yet.
Her comment about precious time had him dropping his gaze to the waves once more, thinking for a moment about Eurydice and then shutting down every thought and memory in an instant. Here was not the time nor the place to lament lost love and lost family. He much preferred the war talk that the two of them were able to share with such confidence instead. Dorothea mentioned the sands and his head lifted a bit to watch her closely. Krysto didn't need to confirm her thoughts, it was clear that they were true between the two of them. It didn't sit well with him that she felt so lost after such a long journey to get where she was now. Accomplished, but lost.
Sometimes using their skills left them accomplished, but what did they truly gain except for war wounds, crumbling minds, and words of affirmation from those that they had protected. For some, that was what they wanted. For others, it wasn't enough, if only because that was not what they were seeking in the first place. "There are some days I feel the same," Krysto said after a few long beats of deepening silence. "I entered the military the day I was legally of age to," he murmured, "I served my two years and then joined the Order. I had never expected to go to war the first time, but I followed my friends into battle. I didn't want the glory, but I did want to know that if we all failed, I did something right and useful. I did what I could to ensure the safety of Taengea. My family. My home," Krysto explained softly, "But they never warn you how you'll feel when its all over. The way you'll see the world when you return to what you know," his hand lifted to rub at the stubble on his chin. It would grow unruly in the next few weeks. He'd want to shave by the time they made it to Colchis.
Turning to face Dorothea fully, Krysto eyed her very carefully, his brows furrowed. "I don't think I can answer that for you," Krysto said slowly, "For me, things were... raw for a long time. It took time. It took patience and finding the things that brought me peace of mind and calmness of spirit," he said with a bit of a sheepish smile and a shrug. "I've lost those things," he said slowly, "Though I'm not sure I ever had peace to begin with."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Krysto liked this girl on principle. They had enough in common right off the bat to put him immediately at ease in her presence. He was not sure that she wouldn't run off on him, but he wondered if he could wear her down over the next few weeks to ensure that she would stick to his side like glue. Though he didn't really think it would be a massive deal for Dorothea to go off on her own, he also wasn't sure that he wanted to make his own journey on his own. Her journey was his, but he still didn't wish to wander without another person to watch his back. Woman or not, Krysto was absolutely sure that she could pack a strong punch.
And if she couldn't, he would teach her what she had not learned in her short time with the Colchians. Being stuck on a ship would be immensely boring after a time. Even when they had been on the way to Egypt, he hadn't been able to sit still for long. A sedentary lifestyle was not something he valued. He could never just sit in one place for so long. Such was one of the many reasons he never became an artist or a full-fledged Physician like the other numerous members of his family. Even as a boy, sitting still hadn't been anything he could handle for very long. He was intelligent and well-read, but much of his learning had been done while also pacing, wandering the large home his family owned, or a million other things.
Dorothea reminded him of himself, and though he wasn't much older than her, he remembered being her age and not being able to settle. Sure, Dorothea's issues stemmed from what she had seen of war. But there had been something that drew her in that direction in the first place, and he was sure that he had felt that same feeling once or twice in his life.
"We are of like mind in that regard," Krysto spoke slowly, though not because he didn't think she could keep up, but because he always thought through each word with agonizing detail. Mostly with those he did not know well. When it came to Achilleas or Stephanos, he was never usually afraid to say the first thing that came to mind, even if he ended up laid out flat on the ground for it. But here, he wished to be careful. He did not feel, despite the connection they were already forming, that he had that sort of relationship with Lady Dorothea.
At least not yet.
Her comment about precious time had him dropping his gaze to the waves once more, thinking for a moment about Eurydice and then shutting down every thought and memory in an instant. Here was not the time nor the place to lament lost love and lost family. He much preferred the war talk that the two of them were able to share with such confidence instead. Dorothea mentioned the sands and his head lifted a bit to watch her closely. Krysto didn't need to confirm her thoughts, it was clear that they were true between the two of them. It didn't sit well with him that she felt so lost after such a long journey to get where she was now. Accomplished, but lost.
Sometimes using their skills left them accomplished, but what did they truly gain except for war wounds, crumbling minds, and words of affirmation from those that they had protected. For some, that was what they wanted. For others, it wasn't enough, if only because that was not what they were seeking in the first place. "There are some days I feel the same," Krysto said after a few long beats of deepening silence. "I entered the military the day I was legally of age to," he murmured, "I served my two years and then joined the Order. I had never expected to go to war the first time, but I followed my friends into battle. I didn't want the glory, but I did want to know that if we all failed, I did something right and useful. I did what I could to ensure the safety of Taengea. My family. My home," Krysto explained softly, "But they never warn you how you'll feel when its all over. The way you'll see the world when you return to what you know," his hand lifted to rub at the stubble on his chin. It would grow unruly in the next few weeks. He'd want to shave by the time they made it to Colchis.
Turning to face Dorothea fully, Krysto eyed her very carefully, his brows furrowed. "I don't think I can answer that for you," Krysto said slowly, "For me, things were... raw for a long time. It took time. It took patience and finding the things that brought me peace of mind and calmness of spirit," he said with a bit of a sheepish smile and a shrug. "I've lost those things," he said slowly, "Though I'm not sure I ever had peace to begin with."
Krysto liked this girl on principle. They had enough in common right off the bat to put him immediately at ease in her presence. He was not sure that she wouldn't run off on him, but he wondered if he could wear her down over the next few weeks to ensure that she would stick to his side like glue. Though he didn't really think it would be a massive deal for Dorothea to go off on her own, he also wasn't sure that he wanted to make his own journey on his own. Her journey was his, but he still didn't wish to wander without another person to watch his back. Woman or not, Krysto was absolutely sure that she could pack a strong punch.
And if she couldn't, he would teach her what she had not learned in her short time with the Colchians. Being stuck on a ship would be immensely boring after a time. Even when they had been on the way to Egypt, he hadn't been able to sit still for long. A sedentary lifestyle was not something he valued. He could never just sit in one place for so long. Such was one of the many reasons he never became an artist or a full-fledged Physician like the other numerous members of his family. Even as a boy, sitting still hadn't been anything he could handle for very long. He was intelligent and well-read, but much of his learning had been done while also pacing, wandering the large home his family owned, or a million other things.
Dorothea reminded him of himself, and though he wasn't much older than her, he remembered being her age and not being able to settle. Sure, Dorothea's issues stemmed from what she had seen of war. But there had been something that drew her in that direction in the first place, and he was sure that he had felt that same feeling once or twice in his life.
"We are of like mind in that regard," Krysto spoke slowly, though not because he didn't think she could keep up, but because he always thought through each word with agonizing detail. Mostly with those he did not know well. When it came to Achilleas or Stephanos, he was never usually afraid to say the first thing that came to mind, even if he ended up laid out flat on the ground for it. But here, he wished to be careful. He did not feel, despite the connection they were already forming, that he had that sort of relationship with Lady Dorothea.
At least not yet.
Her comment about precious time had him dropping his gaze to the waves once more, thinking for a moment about Eurydice and then shutting down every thought and memory in an instant. Here was not the time nor the place to lament lost love and lost family. He much preferred the war talk that the two of them were able to share with such confidence instead. Dorothea mentioned the sands and his head lifted a bit to watch her closely. Krysto didn't need to confirm her thoughts, it was clear that they were true between the two of them. It didn't sit well with him that she felt so lost after such a long journey to get where she was now. Accomplished, but lost.
Sometimes using their skills left them accomplished, but what did they truly gain except for war wounds, crumbling minds, and words of affirmation from those that they had protected. For some, that was what they wanted. For others, it wasn't enough, if only because that was not what they were seeking in the first place. "There are some days I feel the same," Krysto said after a few long beats of deepening silence. "I entered the military the day I was legally of age to," he murmured, "I served my two years and then joined the Order. I had never expected to go to war the first time, but I followed my friends into battle. I didn't want the glory, but I did want to know that if we all failed, I did something right and useful. I did what I could to ensure the safety of Taengea. My family. My home," Krysto explained softly, "But they never warn you how you'll feel when its all over. The way you'll see the world when you return to what you know," his hand lifted to rub at the stubble on his chin. It would grow unruly in the next few weeks. He'd want to shave by the time they made it to Colchis.
Turning to face Dorothea fully, Krysto eyed her very carefully, his brows furrowed. "I don't think I can answer that for you," Krysto said slowly, "For me, things were... raw for a long time. It took time. It took patience and finding the things that brought me peace of mind and calmness of spirit," he said with a bit of a sheepish smile and a shrug. "I've lost those things," he said slowly, "Though I'm not sure I ever had peace to begin with."
His slow careful speech reminded Dorothea of her father. Gavriil was always so deliberate about what he had to say. Dorothea had picked that up from him. She spoke with intensity, but also with care. It was rare for her to lose her temper or say something without thinking about it first. It appeared that Krysto had the same trait. That made her feel more comfortable with him. He may be a virtual stranger, but he didn’t really feel that way. Instead, he just felt like someone who she hadn’t gotten to know until now.
Although technically a royal herself, Dorothea never traveled much in the court circuit. Her family preferred to keep out of the light and Dorothea even more so. She didn’t prefer to be compared to the fair ladies of Taengea. Not that she much cared about that comparison. There was more to life than being beautiful and sometimes she wondered if those women thought about that. However, in this moment, she was more disappointed in herself for not socializing more. Perhaps that would have meant that she might have met Krysto sooner. Dorothea rather thought that she would have liked that. It would have been nice to know a man who would have been pleasant to talk to. Most of the time, she had spent court events holed up in a corner with Melina.
The thought of her friend brought a smile to Dorothea’s face. She wished Melina could see her now—having a civil conversation with a man who she ought to dislike for his unwanted presence on her journey. In fact, more than civil. Dorothea was already slightly rethinking her plans to lose him the moment they stepped off this ship. Perhaps it would not be so terrible to have a traveling companion.
She was beginning to feel foolish for admitting such a truth to a man she barely knew, but Dorothea found herself clinging to every word of Krysto’s response. What a different life he had lived. Dorothea had joined the war effort out of selfishness, but he had joined at a young age, willing to give his life for the protection of Taengea. It wasn’t as if Dorothea hadn’t been willing to do the same, but her intentions had not been so pure. And she had wasted so much of her life beforehand being useless. What good was it to have a gift if she could not use it to help others?
Of course, these negative thoughts occupied her head frequently these days. She had never been quite so hard on herself before, even when she was feeling lost. Another byproduct of a useless war. It saddened her to know that he had been hurting for quite a while after coming back from war the first time. He was probably still hurting now, if she could guess. The thought made her heart constrict a bit. Why else would he give up his life in Taengea to follow a stranger on a trip to Colchis?
“Well, aren’t we a pair?” she said, finally, a faint smile on her face. “I hope you can forgive me for any lapses of behavior while attempting to find my own peace. If my time at home is any indicator, I suspect they will not be infrequent on this journey either.” It was her subtle hint that she was not planning on losing him for the meantime, though of course that could change.
“Have you ever been to Colchis?” Dorothea asked, changing the subject, eager to move away from sharing her own pain. “I have always felt a call to travel, but never have had the opportunity. Egypt was the first place I had been outside of Taengea. I look forward to visiting a land that members of my family call home.” Though, she wasn’t all that keen on seeing any people there, truth be told. However, they could cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, Dorothea would carry on. They had two long weeks before they would make it to their destination. Two weeks for her to steel her nerves.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
His slow careful speech reminded Dorothea of her father. Gavriil was always so deliberate about what he had to say. Dorothea had picked that up from him. She spoke with intensity, but also with care. It was rare for her to lose her temper or say something without thinking about it first. It appeared that Krysto had the same trait. That made her feel more comfortable with him. He may be a virtual stranger, but he didn’t really feel that way. Instead, he just felt like someone who she hadn’t gotten to know until now.
Although technically a royal herself, Dorothea never traveled much in the court circuit. Her family preferred to keep out of the light and Dorothea even more so. She didn’t prefer to be compared to the fair ladies of Taengea. Not that she much cared about that comparison. There was more to life than being beautiful and sometimes she wondered if those women thought about that. However, in this moment, she was more disappointed in herself for not socializing more. Perhaps that would have meant that she might have met Krysto sooner. Dorothea rather thought that she would have liked that. It would have been nice to know a man who would have been pleasant to talk to. Most of the time, she had spent court events holed up in a corner with Melina.
The thought of her friend brought a smile to Dorothea’s face. She wished Melina could see her now—having a civil conversation with a man who she ought to dislike for his unwanted presence on her journey. In fact, more than civil. Dorothea was already slightly rethinking her plans to lose him the moment they stepped off this ship. Perhaps it would not be so terrible to have a traveling companion.
She was beginning to feel foolish for admitting such a truth to a man she barely knew, but Dorothea found herself clinging to every word of Krysto’s response. What a different life he had lived. Dorothea had joined the war effort out of selfishness, but he had joined at a young age, willing to give his life for the protection of Taengea. It wasn’t as if Dorothea hadn’t been willing to do the same, but her intentions had not been so pure. And she had wasted so much of her life beforehand being useless. What good was it to have a gift if she could not use it to help others?
Of course, these negative thoughts occupied her head frequently these days. She had never been quite so hard on herself before, even when she was feeling lost. Another byproduct of a useless war. It saddened her to know that he had been hurting for quite a while after coming back from war the first time. He was probably still hurting now, if she could guess. The thought made her heart constrict a bit. Why else would he give up his life in Taengea to follow a stranger on a trip to Colchis?
“Well, aren’t we a pair?” she said, finally, a faint smile on her face. “I hope you can forgive me for any lapses of behavior while attempting to find my own peace. If my time at home is any indicator, I suspect they will not be infrequent on this journey either.” It was her subtle hint that she was not planning on losing him for the meantime, though of course that could change.
“Have you ever been to Colchis?” Dorothea asked, changing the subject, eager to move away from sharing her own pain. “I have always felt a call to travel, but never have had the opportunity. Egypt was the first place I had been outside of Taengea. I look forward to visiting a land that members of my family call home.” Though, she wasn’t all that keen on seeing any people there, truth be told. However, they could cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, Dorothea would carry on. They had two long weeks before they would make it to their destination. Two weeks for her to steel her nerves.
His slow careful speech reminded Dorothea of her father. Gavriil was always so deliberate about what he had to say. Dorothea had picked that up from him. She spoke with intensity, but also with care. It was rare for her to lose her temper or say something without thinking about it first. It appeared that Krysto had the same trait. That made her feel more comfortable with him. He may be a virtual stranger, but he didn’t really feel that way. Instead, he just felt like someone who she hadn’t gotten to know until now.
Although technically a royal herself, Dorothea never traveled much in the court circuit. Her family preferred to keep out of the light and Dorothea even more so. She didn’t prefer to be compared to the fair ladies of Taengea. Not that she much cared about that comparison. There was more to life than being beautiful and sometimes she wondered if those women thought about that. However, in this moment, she was more disappointed in herself for not socializing more. Perhaps that would have meant that she might have met Krysto sooner. Dorothea rather thought that she would have liked that. It would have been nice to know a man who would have been pleasant to talk to. Most of the time, she had spent court events holed up in a corner with Melina.
The thought of her friend brought a smile to Dorothea’s face. She wished Melina could see her now—having a civil conversation with a man who she ought to dislike for his unwanted presence on her journey. In fact, more than civil. Dorothea was already slightly rethinking her plans to lose him the moment they stepped off this ship. Perhaps it would not be so terrible to have a traveling companion.
She was beginning to feel foolish for admitting such a truth to a man she barely knew, but Dorothea found herself clinging to every word of Krysto’s response. What a different life he had lived. Dorothea had joined the war effort out of selfishness, but he had joined at a young age, willing to give his life for the protection of Taengea. It wasn’t as if Dorothea hadn’t been willing to do the same, but her intentions had not been so pure. And she had wasted so much of her life beforehand being useless. What good was it to have a gift if she could not use it to help others?
Of course, these negative thoughts occupied her head frequently these days. She had never been quite so hard on herself before, even when she was feeling lost. Another byproduct of a useless war. It saddened her to know that he had been hurting for quite a while after coming back from war the first time. He was probably still hurting now, if she could guess. The thought made her heart constrict a bit. Why else would he give up his life in Taengea to follow a stranger on a trip to Colchis?
“Well, aren’t we a pair?” she said, finally, a faint smile on her face. “I hope you can forgive me for any lapses of behavior while attempting to find my own peace. If my time at home is any indicator, I suspect they will not be infrequent on this journey either.” It was her subtle hint that she was not planning on losing him for the meantime, though of course that could change.
“Have you ever been to Colchis?” Dorothea asked, changing the subject, eager to move away from sharing her own pain. “I have always felt a call to travel, but never have had the opportunity. Egypt was the first place I had been outside of Taengea. I look forward to visiting a land that members of my family call home.” Though, she wasn’t all that keen on seeing any people there, truth be told. However, they could cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, Dorothea would carry on. They had two long weeks before they would make it to their destination. Two weeks for her to steel her nerves.
