eggbowl | [Dohalim/Zhongli] You're standing next to me...

[Dohalim/Zhongli] You're standing next to me...

[it started out as vague dreams of what seemed to be a lifetime ago. something so foreign and yet familiar. even in his dreams, he can almost feel it, taste it, smell it. like warm stone on a summer’s day, like a strong embrace holding him steady. and in every dream, he sees the same person with golden eyes and a soft smile and all he can feel is a warm fondness for them.

who is he, Dohalim would ask himself, as he would reach out to him.

and that point is when his dream would turn into a nightmare; in a flash, all he can see is carnage, and that person who he’d felt that fondness for would look at him with a frenzied fire in those golden pools, his face contorted into what seems to be pure, unadulterated rage. why… he can feel the fear piercing his heart, along with a certain pain he can’t quite put his finger on, that he has to watch this man fall into his wrath and despair.

”My apologies…” he remembers saying, before he would wake up with a start, brow damp with sweat as he would sit up in his bed. at first, that dream wasn’t nearly as frequent, but now, it seems like it’s occurring every night. what does it mean? who is that man in his dreams?

what happened?

come morning, however, that dream becomes a passing thought, as it usually does, as he starts his day. it’s only a dream; he doesn’t need to dwell on it.

there had been reports of a sudden spike of astral energy in Traslida Highway, one that Dohalim had taken upon himself to investigate (much to the chagrin of his guardsmen). if it has anything to do with earth astral energy, who better than the lord whose affinity of that very element? if anything goes wrong, he would be the most capable of containing it, at least. what mattered most is that the citizens of his realm are safe.

but it’s strange, as he walks out of Viscint, that he doesn’t need to be told where the anomaly is. he can… almost hear a quiet whisper, indiscernible in its words, but pulling him towards where he needs to go. it’s as if he’s lost all autonomy of his body, falling into a sort of trance, but the pull doesn’t feel malicious in its intent. in fact, it feels almost as familiar as the feeling in his dreams; he has to wonder why that is.

as he approaches the new rock formation in the Tietal Plains, Dohalim strains to listen to guardsman speaking to him; something about how it had appeared overnight, and that they had deployed a small platoon to stop anyone from entering it. but the whispers nearly drown him out, beckoning Dohalim to walk through the portal. it’s reckless, he knows, to walk into something without even an inkling of what awaits on the other side, but nothing in him tells him to stop as he steps forward towards the barrier. he holds a hand up, as if to feel the energy radiating off it, and before anyone could pull him back, Dohalim steps forward. he hears one of the guards call out his name, only for it to be muted once he’s on the other side.

just where is he…?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fate... is certainly an oddity.

[it's something he's never truly talked about; Morax has a complex relationship with things like fate, to the point that perhaps he struggles to believe in it. something about being no more than astral energy, that. but as Melqal squeezes his hand, working slowly through his own memory, his own history... his presence remains there, warm and uninterruptive, expression soft and wry. honestly, it's been too long, hasn't it?

but then there is the other matter at hand. a new name, and no doubt a new life. Morax shows no hesitation in watching him, a smile drawing across his face.]

Dohalim... [it's funny, how sweet a name can feel on his tongue. just the same as Melqal's, a reminder that they are the same - even if there's a difference in entity.] It's good to finally meet you, Dohalim.

[he wants to ask how much is shared, but... one thing at a time. still waking up to himself as he is, he doesn't have a clue how difficult this might be for either side.]

[Dohalim nods slowly, as if his mind is wading through molasses. he's not sure what to think of this whole thing, nor how to react to Melqal and Morax's relationship. not that he himself minds the union of two men but... could the both of them been pining for each other for hundreds of years, truly? could love transcend all time and last this long?

more questions to add to the mountainous pile. he can feel a headache coming on as he sorts through his own memories; he can feel the line between his own and Melqal's start to blur ever so slightly. what happens next? will Melqal take over? would he cease to be? it doesn't seem like the other person in him would leave anytime soon, not when he found Morax at long last. but to lose his own autonomy because of a past love and life... is that what would happen?

he can feel Melqal's eagerness to be with Morax again, the warm feeling blooming in his chest. but with it comes a cold anxiety flowing through his veins. he sits up, eyes looking at the other with a slight uncertainty, hands pulling away to gently place in his lap. fingers start wringing each other as he sorts through... well, everything. just what does he do next?

it's no secret to himself that he holds little value of his own life, but to lose it like this, if it comes down to it... then again, perhaps it may be beneficial of sorts to forfeit himself to this other person. perhaps if he were to fade into obscurity so Melqal and Morax could be together once more... perhaps it wouldn't be so bad]

[It unfolds in degrees, as Morax watches quietly. A single answering nod, and he has to wonder -- what is the state of the world, under all of this? Moreover, what must this man have gone through to keep so silent? He's no fool, and he's not unobservant.

Hands move, and the brunette shifts his weight, tail curling at his side. So then, it's complicated. How to best proceed from here....? Perhaps, he supposes, straight to the heart of it. Melqal himself had ever been a bleeding heart, giving to the point of self-destruction. It seems that these two share that... if he's reading it right.]

... If you are entertaining thoughts of simply suffering silently, Dohalim, I would suggest that you reconsider. It is... endlessly selfish of me to ask your patience, but I am asking anyway. [His expression softens as he speaks, weight with gentle understanding.] It is clear that this situation is... strange, but I am sure you would both agree that it is appalling to be forced into something that makes you uncomfortable at best.

If you would allow it, I have every intention of learning of you as well, Dohalim. Perhaps, in so doing, we will find a suitable compromise for all involved.

[there's a curious glance before Dohalim shakes his head, offering a small, but sad smile]

You truly are kind. However, my own life is inconsequential compared to that of Melqal's.

[Dohalim is casual in his words, but to him, there's a truth he can't ignore. he's heard the stories, the history behind his namesake. there is nothing he can do that's comparable to the heroic deeds his ancestor has done. Melqal has waited centuries to be reunited with Morax, and he would only get in the way of this reunion.

and if he were to lay dormant, perhaps it would put his mind at ease about things he's done in his own past. the mistakes he's made, he would rather silence those thoughts. what if this is the way to do it? and truly, would there be anyone who would miss him? he himself had been alone for several years at this point, if he were to fade away, would it make a difference?]

You and Melqal have each other again. I...

[Dohalim hums to himself as he falls silent again. should he continue? it's not like he'd been able to say much about his past to anyone willing to listen. it's kind for the other to let him speak, but it's another thing to want to speak, altogether]

I would prefer not to get in the way of things.

[were it Melqal, it would have been easier to decide what to do. after all, their relationship itself had been much more established, and it wouldn't feel odd to just be a little... selfish, he supposes. but it's not, and that gives him pause.

indeed, what history must this young man have fallen upon that he's so ready to give up on himself? Rena has never been perfect, but this...]

... do you think that opinion is shared by anyone here past yourself, Dohalim?

[the words are stern, but not cold, and the knit of the man's brows echoes his concern. his hands remain laced in front of him, partly because he's not confident he wouldn't reach out and ~~shake~~touch Dohalim otherwise.]

I know not what history you've beheld to make you so eager to run away from it, but I do not believe life is so inconsequential that one should simply give it up. I recognise that I cannot force you to do anything, but you have continued to live on thus far, so I can see no benefit to the loss of such a tenacious individual. ... If nothing else, it does seem that you can ask Melqal his thoughts on the matter as it stands.

[as someone who, for the most part, cannot die, he can acknowledge his own bias. his mistakes will never fade into obscurity, and the option to simply disappear from the forefront of it... well, it's ludicrous. maybe that's why it takes him a moment to find all the words, to soften the edges of them just enough to bear his disappointment without turning to ridicule.]

[at the mention of running away from his past, it only serves to tense Dohalim up, his back straightening ever so slightly as he squares his shoulders. he looks away again, not wanting to let Morax see the look in his eyes, already feeling like he's been scrutinised enough]

I've lived this long because of an obligation I owed to the one I killed.

[his voice is just as tight as his posture; there are so many things he hadn't expected, but this particular topic... well, he's never been prepared to touch upon it. and more so with a being he had only heard in legends. but it dredges up his own memories that he would prefer not to talk about. his hands clench at each other, knuckles turning white as he tries to keep himself calm]

It is not a matter of tenacity. It is a prison of my own doing. Perhaps if I were more ambitious... No. I have no plans on living past my tenure as lord of Elde Menancia.

[how he goes about saying it sounds like he's made up his mind on it a long while ago. he lets all of that slip before he tight lips himself, eyes now flitting around to find an exit. Morax is right, he truly is eager to run. it's always been a habit of his, after all, to run rather than tackle a problem head on]

[to the one I killed. it certainly puts things into perspective, lips curling faintly. it's a wry expression, to say the least.]

An obligation is certainly a powerful tool.

[his voice softens then, and this time he does reach forward, placing a hand over Dohalim's own. it's light, easily brushed off or pulled away from, but it is most certainly there.]

I apologise. It seems that there are still some... lingering aches in my own history. But I have found that life is not so bleak as we think, no matter our past mistakes, and simply forgetting them is just too easy. [and oh, does he ever know that. inhaling a slow breath, he shifts his weight to test the idea of getting up, legs stretching out slowly.] I can offer nothing more than condolences and an ear, of course. If your decision is to simply disappear, then I have no recourse for that.

But... I wonder, then, why you were the one to find me? Perhaps you don't want to die as much as you believe. Perhaps ambition, for you, is not as simple as the whims of Renan culture. I don't know your history, so I can hardly do more than guess. I simply suspect that you and Melqal are not nearly so far removed as you think, in self nor in your... insufferably bleeding heart.

[insufferably, he says, with such warmth to his voice that it's clearly a frustration borne of love.]

[it's a reaction of sorts, when he feels Morax's hand on his, that Dohalim pulls his own away. a reaction of not knowing what to do when being touched like that more than anything. he instead crosses an arm over his chest, hand resting on his shoulder as his other arm folds closer to him in his lap. why was he the one who found Morax? it's not like he ventured out to specifically find the spirit, after all]

I was beckoned here.

[there might be some sort of higher power at play here, but Dohalim doesn't pay any mind to it. astral energy, especially in high concentrations, could provide varying and interesting results, but right now, Dohalim has no interest in it. no, all he wants is to back out of this conversation, to turn his thoughts off for a moment and compartmentalise them before he does something rash. however, he doesn't catch it before the words slip out from his lips, softly muttered and nearly inaudible]

--Just let me die.

[Dohalim lets himself sink back down into dormancy in his mind; at least it's quiet. perhaps it may be Melqal's doing, or maybe something else as a coping mechanism, but it's a nice change from his usual tumult of memories and emotions.

he looks back at Morax with a sigh, a sign that it's not Dohalim speaking to him now, but Melqal instead; he drops his hand from his shoulder to his lap as he relaxes his shoulders and back slightly]

I... Had not realised...

[in truth, Morax had simply been thinking aloud. It's true enough, all of it, and yet... overwhelming, clearly. Earthen energy is, after all, a source of life. Of course it's reasonable that it might have something to do with everything, but that requires one's willingness to listen.

... moreover, there are those words. Tired, frustrated. Painfully lucid in a way that at once twists in his chest and feels entirely too familiar.]

... ah...

[Dohalim may not be his beloved, but the thought of him coming to harm-- the thought of everything just ending in some abrupt way tears at his thoughts. Of course, that's only another fault, isn't it? He can feel so much and still his words can fall so...]

It is... a complex issue, clearly.

[even with Melqal speaking again, with his same, gentle countenance taking over, Morax can't completely recover.

How many times had he pleaded, back then? Struggling for a lucid moment so that he could stop, so that he wouldn't...]

... is it really such an... acceptable thought, for him? [how much had that one life meant? How much more was missing from this narrative?] Perhaps... perhaps it was still too early. For this.

[for him. He struggles with the man's plight in a way that's perhaps completely hypocritical for a creature who just called another a bleeding heart. His gaze is unsure, lips pressed together into a thin line.]

I have... forgotten most of the details over the years, but he reminds me of the beginning. When you gave me pause in my heartlessness. [When he was just another symbol of destruction, power to be wielded. It hadn't been a swift change by any means.] Forgive me, Melqal. It seems I yet lack the passion of your verbiage. I fear, more than that, that it's deteriorated in the darkness. I...

[His hands shift, hesitating now. It's an old habit, one he hasn't realised exists, let alone how hypocritical it is.]

... what would you recommend, Melqal? I've no memory of this place and its layout, but I... I would like to leave it.

[and to get the other man out of it, honestly.]

From what I've seen... And what I do know, he is... Very lonely. He holds a darkness and heaviness in his heart and this is the most I have ever heard him speak to anyone about it.

[when Morax says that, Melqal flashes a wry smile of his own, remembering those early days. he had, understandably, been guarded, not particularly favourable of Renans who only sought to use his power. Melqal had been different, once he realised that the astral spirits truly were alive and could take on more corporeal forms. reaching over, he takes Morax's hands into his as he shifts closer. thumbs stroke the back of them gently as he lets out a soft breath]

You were fine. I... Am sure he just has not had anyone tell him his life holds value. The fates have not been kind to him, either.

[Melqal recounts what he does remember seeing; Dohalim soon after taking over the position of lord in this glorious land, and the work he'd put into it to grant it peace among its people. work that was, no doubt, a distraction from intrusive thoughts that told him he should not be allowed to exist, thoughts that told him he was not allowed any sort of happiness. not for what he'd done.

Melqal can feel something stir in him; is it Dohalim? is he growing restless from the recollection of memories? perhaps he shouldn't think about them, for now]

As for my recommendation... We should make our way out of this place. I think you have been imprisoned for far too long.

[and perhaps, a change of scenery would be good for everyone involved]

I see. It is... understandable, then.

[Melqal had indeed been different; Morax himself had been far wilder and less trusting, carrying with him a flagrant disregard for mortal life. Warped from the constant misuse of his astral energy, he can still remember how long it took to shake him free from that.]

... perhaps I was mistaken in whom he shares traits with, then. The fates...

[The fates again. Mortals are ever so focused on that, on the idea that their lives are simply meant to be this way. It seems too sad, to him. To think that all of those years of abuse and unkindness were just meant to be, for himself and Dohalim and Melqal all - it's just too sad.

He's quiet as the other recounts a little of Dohalim's history, hands curled around the redhead's in turn. Here and there he pauses to ask questions, mostly to put Elde Menancia of the current years into perspective or to clarify something he doesn't have any logical memory for.

When the retelling ends and he suggests they leave, there's a soft, appreciative smile that blooms over his face.]

Then let us go. I am curious to see what this land has become with the passage of time. And... I hope to hear more about it, as well. For now-- I will follow.

[leaning on Melqal for a start, Morax rises to his feet and lets his tail shift to wrap around his lover's waist. It feels as comforting as it is familiar, sweet. This place, now that he really sees it, is indicative of what they had become, isn't it? Shared energy lighting the path, even with the circumstances being what they had been.]

[when Melqal sealed Morax away, he'd spent most of his astral energy creating this place. one that would be... relatively comfortable, all things considered, and one that felt familiar. in a way, Melqal wanted it to feel like he was always with Morax, even if he couldn't be with him physically. the other part was to make it as easy as he could to find him again. Menancia, and the rest of Dahna had changed so much over the centuries, after all.

the Renans, however, he couldn't say the same. a race that is ruthless most times, had only gotten worse over the years. they would waste no time in lording their power over the Dahnans; they feel like it's their right as the master race. Dohalim, Melqal thinks, is... different. he brought about peace and equality in the realm, judging people by their merit rather than their lot in life. he recalls to himself seeing Dohalim in his studies, questioning why it was deemed absolute that the Renans' place above the Dahnans was a rightful one. of course, in a society where challenged ideals could mean complete ostracization of the family, and considering just how high on the pedestal the il Qaras family sits, Dohalim quickly pushed that topic away.

he always did walk away from confrontation rather than face it head first...

perhaps it's a good thing that Dohalim had brought the ideals of coexistence to the realm, he thinks, as he helps Morax up. it would be inevitable for the spirit to find out just how misused the astral energy of the planet is, but maybe seeing Menancia thrive would help... soften the blow, so to speak. but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there.

a hand comes up to gently cradle the tail wrapped around him, fingers gently grazing along the warm scales. he sighs softly, missing the feeling of it under his hand. warm and strong like stone under the sun. Melqal stands slowly with Morax, his other arm wrapped around him to keep him steady and close]

Steady, now... Are you alright?

[the progression of Rena's cruelty is something he anticipates, at least. Morax is hardly foolish enough to believe that the race has changed all that much at its core, especially when even they had run into so many conflicts that it feels like a matter of course. more still since Dohalim was... well, as he is.

for now, the elemental is trying not to think on that subject. it will be something to learn in time, as always, and he's much more focused on the individual-- two individuals-- here in his presence. there is no rush, even if Dohalim is so intent on leaving himself aside for the good of Melqal and Morax. it didn't sound like the young man's tenure as the Lord of Elde Menancia was anywhere near complete, after all.]

Ah... I'm fine.

[he's especially fine with the way a hand cradles his tail, bringing rise to nigh endless memories of quiet, warm nights just basking in one another's presence. his feet are a little unsteady, but not nearly as much as one would expect, for how long he had been sealed. that fact hardly stops him from leaning on Melqal, reaching up to brush fingers through his hair. it's interesting, seeing the differences in Dohalim's body - the mark of time's passage, and of descendants besides. and it's too bad, he thinks, that Dohalim should think himself so unworthy of anything. with a kind face and a kind heart, he can only imagine...]

I can do anything, so long as you're here with me. [bunting his cheek against Melqal's, he shores himself up and takes a tentative step forward.] Shall we?

[smiling softly, Melqal takes a step forward with Morax, careful not to rush him. his arm is still wrapped around his waist and his hand still cradling his tail, not wanting to let go of the appendage just yet. it provides a sort of comfort to him, like a security blanket, and he didn't realise just how much he missed it, and Morax himself, until they were reunited once more.

but it truly isn't fair to Dohalim himself, either. to feel like he should be pushed aside for their sake, because he thinks he is undeserving of something like this... Melqal huffs softly to himself. he glances at the other, as he takes another careful step forward. hopefully he can backtrack to the entrance...]

Morax... Would you show the same kindness towards Dohalim as you would to me?

[there's a slight plea in his voice, a near desperation to keep his descendant present. he was the one who invaded, after all. in good conscience, he can't allow himself to take over, and he can't allow Dohalim to think of himself as nothing but a vessel for his consciousness]

Would you be able to provide that warmth? Would you be able to show him that there is at least someone who cares about him?

[that's the problem. Dohalim has admirers, in Menancia. how could he not, when he's such a compassionate lord? he's revered by all in the realm because of what he was able to do for them, but... reverence cannot replace a deeper connection, one that he so sorely lacks. Melqal knows the compassion Dohalim is capable of giving to close companions, but how can he, when he doesn't know how to show it, nor does he have anyone to attempt to show it to?]

I do not want to lose him. Not because we share the same body and mind, but he deserves much more than he thinks.

[It's a show, steady progress, easier that he expected really. Having someone to lean on helps immensely, after all. Someone he's missed, waited for in silence...

But it's not so simple as that, either. Not as harmless as a single soul inhabiting a vessel. And he's already found that he's not very good at speaking to the other half of this body... but Melqal's question somehow comes as a surprise.]

Melqal...

[He hasn't changed a bit. Morax finds it a relief really, and he curls his tail a little tighter around the other man. It's a gentle reassurance.]

... it is ultimately up to him, but I have no intention of just giving up on him. As I said to him, it is... a difficult circumstance, but I would like to know more about him.

[There's part of him that thinks it might be easier if he hadn't ever awakened, if he'd just been lost to the elements in the end. He's glad it wasn't that way, but still.]

I had the same feeling. Whatever he went through, I... well. You know as well as I why I think it's important to... see that he knows that he's more than his past.

[If that wasn't true, Morax knows he wouldn't be the way he is now. He certainly wouldn't have had someone willing to both deal him away and return besides.]

I will not promise it would be the same, but I suspect it wouldn't be... that different. Simply listening to him, there was a sense of familiarity, before.

[The entrance is drawing nearer now, he thinks. That's good... at the very least, it'll be nice to feel the sun again.]

I suppose you are right. Perhaps I simply cannot accept his resolve to die.

[Melqal truly is a bleeding heart when it comes to anyone in need, but more so because Dohalim is his descendant. truly family, and he can't sit and watch one of his own kin suffer in silence. but Morax is also right: if Dohalim is unwilling to listen, then is there a point of trying? no, it's not a thought he wants to entertain... Melqal isn't sure he would be able to live with the guilt if the other half of him disappears.

after all, this is Dohalim's body, first and foremost. he... is an invader. perhaps in his selfishness of wanting to be reborn, he hadn't thought about the consequences. he wanted a second chance in life, but what about Dohalim's first? and not just him, but if Melqal were to be reborn to anyone else, would the same thoughts linger? or are they just exacerbated because of Dohalim? Melqal sighs softly, hand gripping onto Morax's tail just a little more. he's thankful for this gift, but the price to pay for it... he must make it up to Dohalim somehow. he must save him somehow.

as they reach the entrance, Melqal slows to a stop, before shifting around to stand in front of Morax]

Would you be able to change your appearance? As much as I miss your true image, I feel the Renans and Dahnans waiting outside would be less appreciative.

I believe I would wonder who you had become were it any other way, my treasure. In truth, I do not think he wants to die as much as he thinks.

[there again, Morax gives a soft response, telltale and mild, as they go. now, there is time to consider how to proceed - from the way to handle Dohalim himself to Morax's own personality. there's always a chance they won't be compatible, but isn't it the least he can do to try?

it's such a strange circumstance. living, or living again, through the sense of another - a rarity, to say the least. even in all his years, Morax has heard of it only very occasionally, usually from those too bound up in their duty or so deeply in love that it re-wove the very fabric of reality. a kindness of fate, one might say. in any case, there had never been extensive documentation about those souls inhabiting bodies with another soul already within them. perhaps it's yet another twist of that selfsame fate, a chance veiled in hardship and effort...?

Melqal slows and steps before him and Morax is brought from his thoughts, blinking once at the question. his appearance...]

... Ah. I... believe I... remember how.

[closing his eyes, the man inhales a slow breath, gathering up astral energy to do just that. it takes a moment, recalling how to interact with the ambient energy of the world (or in this case, the lingering energy they had both shared, so long ago). when he does, there's an all-too-familiar golden glow, winding its way in ancient symbols over the entirety of the astral embodiment's body. horns and tail shimmer and shatter into dust, bright little remnants that dim as they reach the floor.

his clothes don't change - the robe is still tight enough to be fitting, and honestly, if they have a problem with his clothes when Melqal-- Dohalim brings him out of the space, Morax might just have some questions for them.

in the end, the faint glow of his eyes fades enough that it's difficult to notice at a glance, and he's left with a form that's similarly regal, if less... alarming. Pale and slender, hair a bit more tamed, all the way down to the orange highlight under his eyes. Melqal has seen it before, of course, in rare cases where it was necessary.]

They always have been so... wary, haven't they? I can only imagine what they'll think of me as it is, brought out from such a place as this.

[despite having a deep appreciation for his true form, Melqal can also appreciate this veneer as well. not too terribly different, but enough to pass off as human, and still beautiful in his own way. Melqal reaches up to gently brush a lock of hair out of Morax's face, before letting his fingers trail down his cheek. as he peers into his eyes, Melqal is pretty sure he can get lost in those golden pools]

Humans have always been like that. Wary of the unknown.

[he huffs out a soft laugh at Morax's comment; he does have a point. he isn't sure why, but humans have always had their hang ups about anything out of the ordinary, even in the face of an elemental spirit. and to think that Morax is the more normal looking one out of the astral spirits, too (he shudders to think about the titan that is Efreet). honestly, he's even surprised that Dohalim hadn't made a comment about Morax's appearance, but then again, he was always... abnormal in his way of thinking, by Renans' standards.

as he thinks on it, Melqal has to wonder. the astral spirits... have their legends been lost to the sands of time? would anyone beyond the threshold recognise Morax's name as an elemental, or would they be more concerned over the fact that their lord had emerged with someone that did not follow him in? probably more latter than the former, but he still has to wonder.

but those are thoughts for another day as he feels Dohalim pull at him; there's no resistance on his part as he lets his other half take over again. perhaps to address the guardsmen outside, who would, no doubt, be alert for when he comes back out again. Dohalim quickly pulls his hand away from Morax, as he steps back, eyes shifting from him to the barrier]

...Are you ready?

So they have.

[he supposes it's a measure of mortality. fear and hesitation in the face of something that they don't understand, anything that could be harmful to their normal ways of life...

there's nothing to say one way or the other, of course. just like the reality of the astral spirits, and of himself and his name. would they remain the same? should he risk that? although... even if he didn't, what pseudonym would he be able to give himself?

Melqal - Dohalim, he corrects himself quickly - pulls his hand away with a speed that's almost achingly sad, then steps back to address the barrier. one step at a time, he supposes.]

... Yes. More than, I would say.

[his response is quiet, and now his own gaze turns to the barrier. the last vestiges of separation between himself and the light. and, by the Renan's own admission, a likely retinue of guardsmen. the instinct to fight is never far from him, but Morax shelves it now. no sense in causing undue alarm.]

[Dohalim nods silently, before reaching out to test the barrier like he had earlier. and just like before, his fingers pass through easily, no resistance at all pushing back against him. perhaps this place really is made up of his, Melqal's, astral energy. astral energy that he has in himself. what that means, or what power he wields now because of it (or power that he always had, maybe) terrifies him in some capacity, if the other man could create a place like this.

he doesn't have time to ponder on that thought as he walks through, trusting Morax to follow behind him. the clamouring of his guardsmen rushing over to him to make sure he's alright is too much to handle right now; he raises a hand to silence them. though, the words that come next are that of benevolence, making sure not to give them censure for their worry]

My apologies. It was unexpected, falling through the barrier like that. I--

[Dohalim notices that most eyes are not on him anymore; he follows the group's gaze to Morax, gazes that are wary and on guard, just like Melqal predicted. he's not sure what compels him to do so, but he steps forward, in front of the astral entity, as if to shield him]

He is harmless. I'd found him in there; as for how long he'd been trapped, I am not so sure.

[a litany of questions follow soon after, mostly asking Dohalim if he's sure Morax won't hurt him, or if this is a trap to lead him to the palace to assassinate him when he's least expecting it. questions that Dohalim allows to let fly over his head as he subtly shifts his glance to the sky; the sun seems to be just past overhead. had he truly been in that temple for hours?]

If he truly had intentions of assassination, I would have been dead already. There was nothing else through that barrier other than he. But we should head back to the palace. I would like to allow him, and myself, some rest.

[Morax is indeed shortly behind, taking in a slow, easy breath as fresh air shifts about them. it's-- different, that much is certain. it makes perfect sense, of course. no country would remain perfectly preserved while rulers come and go and life continues on, but... his attention drifts briefly to it all, lips pressed together before he turns to the guards.

there's no fear in him, nor anything intimidating. really, he stands almost like a rock, silent as Dohalim handles his own men. their wariness, Morax thinks, is a good thing. better they care enough to protect their sovereign than otherwise, no? it paints a picture of the man himself especially, seeing Dahnans and Renans alike in this circumstance. and... it swells his heart a little, when Dohalim stands before him.

he has to wonder, though, how likely an assassination plot is for Dohalim to deal with. the man doesn't seem to think himself worthy of much, and yet it's so clear that others revere him for his choices - and equally clear that, undoubtedly, others will resent him for that. Renans as a whole don't like the idea of equality. it's just something he'll have to see play out, really, as things continue. on top of how to handle the ruler himself and whatever the man is willing to offer him of his time, he's a bit lost in thought.]

[swept up in his men's concern for his wellbeing, Dohalim's attention is on them more than Morax at the moment, hastily, but politely answering the barrage of questions that still come his way. he knows that they care about him, and only want to see him well and unharmed, but he's... also very tired. more so than he thought he was, originally. he has to wonder why, considering that he did nothing but talk to the elemental... perhaps the switch between himself and Melqal is the cause of this exhaustion? are there some concerns for his mental welfare that he should be aware of? it's not like he can visit the palace physician for something such as this. for all he knows that he isn't well when it comes to his mental health, he'd rather not give anyone a reason to remove him lord. not yet, not when he has more he needs to do for Menancia to be a beacon of equality between both races.

Dohalim raises his hands again to quieten the chatter among the guardsmen, before offering them a small smile]

I believe I have answered your questions. Come, now. Let us make our way back.

[not waiting for anyone to say anything more, he starts to walk, trusting his guard, and Morax to follow. but he does make sure that the other is close by, for some reason. it must be Melqal's influence to be close to the entity, to seek comfort in his closeness. yes, that must be it.

as they enter Viscint, the street lights have just started to flicker to life, as the early evening din settles over the city. off duty guards can be seen sitting outside, enjoying libations with mixed company of Renans and Dahnans, laughing and toasting their drinks. the marketplace shopkeepers lively advertise their wares, only stopping to call out to Dohalim, who, in turn, gives them a polite smile and nod back. clearly, he's just as revered in the city as his guardsmen, and who could be surprised? it's peaceful.

leaning over to Morax, Dohalim speaks softly enough so no one can eavesdrop]

A bath and change of clothing would be appreciated, I'm sure. As for food... Is there anything in particular I can have the chefs prepare for you?

[do... astral spirits even eat?]

[recalling his conversation with Melqal and comparing it to the conversations of his people to Dohalim, he wonders if the young man actually knows how deeply they care. how much more his life means, even if he doesn't believe he's worth that...

at least, in the end, they quiet down and follow him easily. Morax keeps pace as he had before, close enough to be reassuring to both Dohalim and himself (or, you know, just himself, surely) without being so close as to make his guards too nervous. if anything, his pace only pauses briefly when they reach Viscint, when golden eyes turn to observe as the people of the city go about their lives.

it's a pleasant feeling, warm in the chest, both at the comfort of it and the sight of Dahnans and Renans in relative peace with one another. there's so much left to do, no doubt, but it's not... really something that can be fixed in one generation, is it? still, it's worth it to start somewhere. and more still, it might yet give Dohalim more of a sense of himself.

he pauses then when Dohalim leans over to him, swallowing the urge to lean in closer to the different-but-familiar sensation. his own is soft in turn, almost deferent now that he's woken up more.]

It would... and I am unsure what cuisine is like, to be honest. I've no taste aversions. [a beat, and then he exhales a sigh and glances down the street for a moment.] ... Although, I don't do well with the sight of seafood, particularly anything with... tentacles.

[an odd aversion, but you know, at least he's honest?]

[Dohalim had just about asked Morax about the aversion to tentacles in particular, but he can't help but feel a sense of mirth bubble up inside of him. there's a slight echo of laughter in the back of his mind that he now knows must come from Melqal, but as to why, well that's another question all on its own, isn't it.

even so, it's that thought that quirks the corners of Dohalim's lips upward, unable to filter that; he brings a hand up to cover his mouth in case someone questions him. he clears his throat to make sure there's no clear hint of amusement, not wanting to offend Morax in any way]

Ah... Thankfully, we are not particularly coastal when it comes to our cuisine. We specialise more in land animals. You have seen the small hamlet just outside of the city walls, yes? They are the main producers of the groceries you see here. [he gestures to the market stalls] Of course, only the finest ingredients are sent to the palace, but even the market offerings are of the freshest one can find.

[there's a real sense of pride in Dohalim's voice when he speaks of his realm and its people. how could he not be, when it had only been such a short time ago that the Dahnans were suffering at the hands of oppression? he may have a selfish reason for wanting to bring peace, but, in the end, does it truly matter if all parties are content?

as he leads Morax to Autelina Palace, Dohalim addresses the leader of the platoon following him, a lieutenant, before the guards are dispersed. he breathes out a soft sigh, before the doors are opened for the both of them.

inside, the walls and bases of the stairs are lined with fresh potted plants, complimenting the crisp blues, gilded golds and white marble of the interior, as Morax is lead deeper into the palace, he'll find that the palace itself is very open concept; two massive indoor gardens are lush and green with colourful flowers blooming as well as clear ponds with no ceiling overhead. the air is as fresh inside as it is outside.

not much has changed, since Melqal had dwelled in the same palace. perhaps it never did change, or perhaps Dohalim had restored it to its former glory. if that's the case, is it because of his other half's influence? or is it his own?

he pushes that thought aside as he pulls aside a passing maid, asking for her assistance to lead Morax to a guest bedroom with a drawn up bath and a change of clothes. he turns his attention to the other]

Is there anything else you will need?

I am... somewhat relieved to find that remains true. I cannot think of anything that would bring any sense of displeasure, when it comes to food.

[if he but knew Melqal's mirth at his expense, he might have actually pouted. instead, Morax smiles as Dohalim speaks of his realm, at the sense of pride in the peace he's created. it's no doubt imperfect, and there are no doubt things the Renan will have to open his eyes to one day, but for the start? for the start, it is good. selfish or not, it is good.

Autelina Palace, too, is not as different as he might have expected. whether that's owing to the difficulty of completely redesigning a castle every handful of years or a lingering influence, he doesn't know. ultimately, it's probably a combination of it.

... ultimately, that thought is dismissed when Dohalim calls for a maid to lead him to a guest room, and while he really should have considered it, the idea of parting from the young man doesn't... sit well with him. there's a pause, something in the way Morax looks at Dohalim that's lost, or perhaps it's closer to afraid. it's a reasonable worry, after all this time. that somehow this is just a dream, and he'll wake into the same nightmare he'd had for so long.]

Ah... no. I... I think I will be fine, once I arrive to my room. [his fingers lace together then, as he does his best to appear unfazed.] Perhaps we could... speak again, at your earliest convenience. I'm aware that you must be quite busy, of course.

[even if there wasn't a maid waiting for him, would he have said what he wants? it feels... frustrating, unfair, having to just be alone, even if a bath sounds fantastic right now.]

... Thank you, Lord Dohalim. For your hospitality.

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