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…?]

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[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.

No thanks are needed--

[like Morax, Melqal has a yearning to be close to his lover, to never leave him again. if it were up to him, he probably would have reached out to grasp at the other, to pull him close once again, to commit to memory every curve and dip of his body. but perhaps it's a good thing he doesn't, perhaps even better that it's Dohalim who stops the urge to do so.

but Dohalim, sensing that longing, sighs softly to himself. it seems he truly is bending to the will of the long lost lovers, but if he can make them happy somehow, then perhaps it would be fulfilling for his conscience]

I will try to check in after you settle in. Perhaps a tour of the palace before dinner?

[the maid glances between the both of them, waiting; she's not terribly surprised by her lord's hospitality and kindness. after all, she is one of the Dahnans that benefited from his benevolence]

[it's a strange feeling, one he can't even fully equate to Melqal now. in any case, there's little that Morax can do but accept what he's given in full. whether Dohalim or Melqal or both, he's... relieved, really, at the offer of a tour.

he doesn't think he can be alone for too long, right now. maybe by dinner's end, when he's come to grips with the fact that this is real, that he's... free. but for now...]

I would greatly appreciate it. As I mentioned, I have... a great many questions. But-- my apologies for the delay, miss.

[reluctantly, Morax's attention turns to the maid, a warm smile crossing his features that would fool almost anyone away from thinking there's a tumult beneath that face. he knows better than to linger too long, no matter how he'd like to.]

[as they part, there's that urge to reach out to Morax that nearly overwhelms him this time, but by some miracle, he stops himself. he doesn't need any rumour to spread like wildfire within the palace walls; he already knows that the astral spirit will be the talk amongst his subjects. he'd remembered that he didn't actually introduce Morax to anyone by his name, nor did the elemental himself. he has to wonder if Morax is planning on using his true name, or if he'd use a moniker instead, to avoid raising unwanted questions from some of the more educated people.

but then again... as he thinks himself as well educated, even he doesn't know the names of the other astral spirits. Melqal seems like he does, but he also came from a time where it seemed like they were more prominent governing entities. perhaps he'll ask Morax about it later.

for now, as he retires to his own chambers, Dohalim unceremoniously flops onto his own bed, arm slinging over his face as he lets out another sigh. what a predicament he's in, now... but it does answer a few of his questions. it makes more sense now, the dreams he's had, but it also seems like there are small pieces missing here and there. just why was Morax sealed, and why was Melqal the one to do it? was it to do with the carnage he'd also seen in his dreams?

it seems like the questions answered only raised more.

a knock on the door announces one of his aides, no doubt to undress him and send him off to his own bath. one that he very much would like, right now. his aide walks in as he stands from his bed, thoughts running through his mind as he's fussed about.

it's nearly two hours later when Dohalim finally emerges from his chambers again, freshened up with clean clothing, water droplets still clinging to the curly locks of his hair. an inconvenience when it comes to his hair, but one he's lived with. it's just unfortunate that he doesn't look his most perfect as he walks down the hallway to the room given to Morax. the entire time he'd been away, he'd felt a slight ache in his chest, the same sense of yearning that had settled over him. should he announce himself as Dohalim? or should he let Melqal out again? perhaps he should give his other self this...

he knocks on the door, his mind muddled between himself and Melqal. it's an odd sensation, to say the least, a near out of body experience, of sorts]

[The question of a name plagues Morax throughout his bath - the maid seems content to simply refer to him as sir, in the short moments of time she's about him. He's quick to dismiss her though - a fact that really has more to do with wanting to release the veneer of being put together and regal for a while. More still, there are... reasons the elemental would rather not have someone else handle his hair, and if he's going to be imitating a mortal at length, he can't just let it collect dust until there's enough to form into little decorations, like he once did. Sinking nose deep into the waste to pout is just his own luxury.

His bath lingers on rather longer than he had intended, but even still there's more than enough time to rest and wait for Dohalim. Changing into unfamiliar clothes provides him with another view of the new Autelina Palace, the way fashion has changed in these long centuries. They're not uncomfortable, at least, even if the fabrics are somewhat... heavy and tightly fitted. They're rather at odds with the loose braid he's weaving his hair into when the knock sounds at the door.]

Please come in.

[His voice will be a little muffled from the distance, and a smile draws across his face when the other comes into view.]

Hello again, Dohalim.

[He could be wrong, of course, but he doesn't think Melqal would be offended. The other man had asked him to try to care for his other half, after all.]

[still flitting between himself and the other, all Dohalim does is hum in acknowledgement for a moment as he walks in. he closes the door behind him before making his way to the other, the strange sensation still washing over him. but as he nudges Melqal forward, he feels himself sink back to the depths of his mind, much like before. they were separated for so long, so he must give them this.

as Melqal takes over, he huffs out a breath, frowning slightly]

Dohalim...

[how frustrating... but Melqal also sympathises with his descendant; he's been alone himself. but unlike Morax, who had the hopes of seeing his beloved again, Dohalim... he truly has no one. his... "friends" in Lenegis... does he still consider them as such? or had he accepted the fact that they probably would never see him as such ever again?

reaching up, Melqal runs a hand through his damp hair, before letting his fingers tug at the ends gently]

He is... Hm. He's very keen on making sure we have our time together.

[stepping forward, as soon as he reaches Morax, both of his hands gently grip the other's upper arms as he leans in to rest his forehead against his shoulder. he takes a deep breath, letting the spirit fill his senses. to remind himself that this is not a dream]

[There's a sense of disappointment in the moments after - not in seeing Melqal again, naturally, but in the reality of the situation. Dohalim... truly is a difficult one, isn't he?

And of course he'd be lying if he claimed there was no relief in this, in the way Melqal leans in and presses his forehead to one shoulder. None of them would believe it if he tried.]

... he is too kind. But... I do hope he allows me to speak with him at length, too.

[later, at least. Perhaps when they've settled down for dinner. For right now, greedy fingers slide around Melqal's waist, squeezing gently and drawing him in.]

... I missed you. I... [Exhaling a thready laugh, he nuzzles in close, breathing in the scent of his still damp hair. The words, the regrets, fall from his lips without so much as a beat of hesitation.] I thought maybe, after all of it, you would have moved on. Maybe I took too much. To make you do that for me... you deserved better, you know.

And yet... I still clung to it. To you and your line...

[Melqal shakes his head, before lifting it to look at Morax properly. those golden eyes draw him in again, like precious gems. a hand slides up to gently cup his face, a thumb brushing against Morax's lower lip before he leans in for a chaste, quick kiss]

I could never... You are my most cherished... I am as guilty of clinging to what we had as you are. Perhaps that is the reason why I was reborn. [he leans in for another kiss] You could never take too much from me. I could give up all of myself for you and I would still try to find a way to give you more.

[as he says that, Melqal thinks back to their last encounter together. when he sealed Morax away. his heart had bled at that moment, cut him deeply that they both had to resort to it. but even more so, his final moments of life shortly after sealing the spirit away... he truly did give all of himself to Morax. he has to wonder if the other knows just how much he'd given, the sacrifice he made. Melqal has no regrets, of course, and if it does come to it, he'd do it again.

but this body... he can't be so careless now. it is not only he who presides in it, but Dohalim as well. and with the latter's plea to end his life early... he should be more careful going forward. hopefully, he won't have to seal Morax away again]

My heart and soul have belonged to you since the first moment you've lain with me. You are the best there is. I could not imagine being with anyone else.

[for a moment, those eyes close just to focus on his fingers. As they cup his face and a thumb brushes his lip, Morax lets his brows furrow as he takes in the familiar sensations. And as lips press to lips, his own hands rising to cradle the other's face in turn, he listens quietly. Each promise settles a small fear, even if there are still others they bring to light.]

Melqal... you are the most stubborn man I have ever known, and that is a significant amount of time. [sighing, he leans into the kisses and curls deft fingers around his waist.] I meant no doubt of you, my treasure... never you. Nor could I ask for more in turn.

[and though he doesn't know officially, perhaps there's a part of him that does. They are intrinsically linked, after all - it's not unreasonable that his nightmares of all those years had shown him his lover's end. The sacrifices they had both made are endless.]

I am endlessly lucky to have you. And to have the chance to understand Dohalim alongside you. I... will try to remember that, when this feeling begins to loom.

[But now, indeed, it's all the more complicated. With their thoughts put to bed on the matter, the other matter - of the body's actual owner - arises in full. As his hands find purchase over Melqal's, his lips curl lightly.]

Were this a normal night, I fear we would miss dinner again, wouldn't we? [The gloom breaks as he speaks, recalling many a night where the two had just... disappeared to one or the other's rooms. None had dared to question Melqal, of course.] I think Dohalim's subjects would cause quite a stir, alas.

Is... is he willing to join me for this meal? I still want to learn of him, after all.

[but if Dohalim is dead set on this, there's not much they can do.]

[Melqal smiles softly at the fond memories of them in each other's company, and the strife they would cause among the palace subjects of their time. they truly were a pair when left to their own devices, and it's true, no one would ever question Melqal or give him censure for shirking his duties in favour of escaping with Morax for a moment. now that he thinks about it, perhaps they should have. the both of them truly were terrible, sometimes. but really, is there a meal out there that would truly satisfy him more when Morax laid out in bed is the best meal of all?

when the topic settles back onto Dohalim, Melqal ponders on it for a moment, letting out a long breath]

Willing... May be a strong word. He has appearances he needs to keep up in order to avoid bringing attention to this. [he gestures between the both of them] His words, not mine. Though, I don't think it's that he does not want to conversate with you, I think... Hm, I'm not sure I can put my finger on it.

[there's a subtle fear there, Melqal thinks, but of what, he can only assume. perhaps in Dohalim's loneliness, he'd become fearful of building personal relationships again? has it got something to do with what happened in his own past? Melqal won't lie and say he's not curious at all, but he's also worried that if he pushes the subject, Dohalim will just shut the both of them out completely. perhaps they should approach this delicately]

Perhaps small talk will open him up. He is a connoisseur of the arts, and of history... Maybe that might resonate with him.

[The smallest of positives is that Morax was always one to make sure Melqal had enough to eat. Sometimes it was more difficult than others - the crafty Renan certainly had no shortage of ways to weaken his lover's resolve - but still. The elemental has always been a worrier.]

Mm. It's understandable. [listening quietly, Morax considers their situation. Keeping his circumstances hidden is best, especially when it comes to Melqal, isn't it? But it's a relief that Dohalim isn't unwilling to chat. Hesitation he can work around.] small talk... is not my strong suit, but history and some arts I think I can manage. It's... a start, at least.

And a safe conversation, I imagine.

Yes, it would be, I think.

[lifting his hand up, Melqal brushes his fingers through the soft locks of Morax's hair that had fallen into his face, to the braid hanging over his shoulder. the darkness of the strands reminds him of the most beautiful obsidian, highlighted by the most gilded of gold. honestly, befitting for the earthen spirit. Melqal takes a moment to take him all in again, admiring every feature he can lay his eyes on. there's a yearning in his soul to let the elemental take him like he's done so many times before but... slowly. they must move slowly, for Dohalim's sake. but still, to be so close yet so far away...

however, it's a sacrifice he's willing to make for Dohalim's comfort. Morax can be... quite the surprising specimen in his true form. and it's not like he's accustomed to have this much attention on him to begin with, so... slow. slow is good.

but it doesn't stop Melqal from leaning in once more for another kiss, this time a little deeper. he takes a moment to feel out any sort of resistance from his other half; he feels none. maybe Dohalim is serious about letting them have their time together. but it's only a short moment before he pulls back again, not wanting to push boundaries that they shouldn't be toeing just yet]

Dinner should be soon, so we should start that tour with you and Dohalim.

[the idea of dinner soon after that does sound like a great idea; there's a small grin that creeps up on his face at the thought of the earlier conversation]

Speaking of which... Are you still rather uncomfortable around tentacled creatures?

[just being in Melqal's presence is soothing, and it brings with it an unhurried sense of peace. He's missed this for so long... and no amount of changes in features can put a dent in that relief, it seems.

It doesn't hurt that Dohalim himself is... rather beautiful, with sharp, royal features that warm and sweeten when he's comfortable - for what the elemental has seen of them, anyway. Moving slowly isn't so hard when he can be fascinated by all of their differences.

It's harder, then, when Melqal kisses him more deeply, though. With the passage of time, he's grown needy and wanting, and there's a deep regret that this is as far as is safe, right now.]

Mm. I'm a little excited to hear him talk about this place, and—

[and his thoughts are derailed by that question completely. Peering wide eyed at Melqal, his cheeks heat up immensely, mouth opening to respond only to stammer at first. Clearly, the answer is yes.]

I— do not be mean to me. [Morax puffs out a cheek at the grin on Melqal's face, head shaking.] You know full well why I do not like them... all slimy and thick and persistent... [He shudders a little with the memory. The things were probably just in their mating season, and he'd been terribly unlucky to get so ambushed, but...] and you just watched for so long-!

[in Melqal's defense, Morax had probably looked as horny as he had perturbed, given they had definitely found no shortage of weak spots on the man's body. And, of course, he'd never minded restraints before.]

[to be fair, Melqal had always been amused by flustering Morax, knowing full well he can get away with it. he has it down to an art, knowing exactly when to stop before the other is truly irritated, but until then, he'll poke the sleeping dragon, so to speak. he laughs heartily at Morax's reaction]

I helped, in the end! I had to; they were getting too handsy with you for my liking. [Melqal presses a kiss to the puffed out cheek] You're mine, after all.

[ah, he'd forgotten how possessive he could be when it comes to Morax, though he doubts even after all this time, that the entity minds. it isn't to say that it's not mutual, either, he knows he belongs to Morax. he couldn't think about giving himself completely to anyone else, after all. but, to punctuate his comment by sliding a hand down to Morax's ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. sure, he said he'd move slow but... he just couldn't help himself.

though, he does have to think about how strange this must seem to Dohalim. it isn't to say that the man himself is a blushing bride; no, he's had his fair share of liaisons in the palace; a perk of being a lord, after all, but this... is far from what he's used to, probably. but with their penchant fomore... risqué play, sometimes, there is that unconditional love. a love that hopefully Dohalim can feel someday. Morax always talks about his, Melqal's, bleeding heart, but behind those stone walls, Morax is the same. maybe it has something to do with the fact that he was the one who managed to erode said walls down]

[there's a familiar little hitch to Morax's breath when Melqal kisses his cheek and speaks that way, an aching hunger that sinks deep into his bones.]

You are so-- [oh. oh. that's a rough little groan when a hand squeezes his ass, and the elemental leans into Melqal without any hesitation. they can't do much, especially under the circumstances, but he doesn't make it easy, does he?] --wonderfully insufferable.

[Exhaling a sigh, he leans forward and presses his lips to Melqal's, just briefly.]

Terrible. We should go to dinner, lest we get too... occupied. We can speak later, Melqal.

[And then some, if he's lucky. It's been so long, and they really were such monsters together. Still, Morax wants to speak to Dohalim, so getting distracted is a problem right now.]

[it's nice to know he can still reduce an austere being such as Morax to nearly putty in his hands with a single touch; hearing that groan is almost like music to his ears. and if it were under different circumstances, he would absolutely have his way with Morax, and continue those teasing touches and squeezes. but, as it stands, the circumstances are very much unusual, so it'll just have to wait.

but he does lean in for one more kiss before he steps back, not wanting to make Dohalim uncomfortable with being so close to Morax. he lets out a light shiver at the sudden coolness in the air, but doesn't bother him for too long as Dohalim takes over again.

which, the look on his face as his smile fades, is one that's unreadable. it's not one of disgust for Melqal's and Morax's displays of affection, at least, but... maybe curiosity hidden behind something else? who knows. but he straightens out his clothing as he clears his throat, looking around the room]

...Are the accommodations and attire to your liking? I can have anything changed, if you would like.

[Morax is quick to shore himself back up, even if he doesn't want to. letting go of Melqal is difficult after so long, but there's a gentle warmth to his expression when Dohalim returns to the fore. any sense of discomfort or uncertainty is noted, if nothing else.

he may not know how to handle the man yet, but he certainly isn't regarding him with any disappointment.]

Ah-- yes, they're quite fine. Truthfully, I never thought much about the comforts of homesteads or cloth. Before, I would simply wear what was comfortable and easy to move in.

[which explains the loose pants and flowing robe, really. Dohalim may not know how he fights, but it'll inform some of the likelihoods. there's also a thoughtful hum that comes shortly thereafter, his arms crossing.]

... At least, after Melqal taught me that taking a form so close to 'human' would make others uncomfortable were I to remain naked. I always thought it rather silly, really, as I do not truly grow cold by any means.

[that's... not the only reason to wear clothes, and he understands that now, but still.]

[at the mention of Morax's preference of being nude, there's a slight tint of red that flushes Dohalim's cheeks. thankfully Melqal was able to convince him of being a little more... conservative when it comes to his state of dress. but he does have to wonder how their relationship came to be, and how they'd grown so close. perhaps a question to ask sometime in the evening]

Mm, yes, I can appreciate loose fitting attire as well. I find that most Renan clothing can be a bit... constricting. But, of course, Renans do love the clean cut lines of the Tunica Rene.

[it's reminiscent of the cut-and-dry culture that he'd grown up in; gods forbid that he ever questioned any of it. the crisp whites were the standard, and the most adventurous he'd seen anyone with their clothing were small bobbles and trinkets pinned to them tastefully, or small, barely noticeable splashes of colour sewn in. honestly, when he was passed down the regalia that had been in his family for as long as he can remember, he was surprised to see the splashes of blues, golds and greens. and despite the double layers of bottoms he wears, both are still loose enough that he can easily move around in. and the linens provide an airiness to them.

needless to say, Dohalim isn't a huge fan of the current fashion]

If you would like something a little looser, please ask, and I will get something else right away.

There is something very familiar to it.

[Morax either misses the tinge of colour on Dohalim's cheeks or, more likely, chooses to let it be. he's not doing it to embarrass him, after all - it's just a fact that means very little to the elemental.

as he considers, though, he inclines his head lightly.]

... Perhaps something a little more loose would be nice, yes. I do enjoy dark colours as well as white and gold. But... there's no real hurry for it.

[they have enough to do right now without worrying about the fashion right now. weight shifting, Morax glances to the door.]

Shall we start toward the... dining room? Is that still what it's called? I am not terribly hungry, but it seems like a sensible choice to continue conversing.

I shall have something for you at the earliest convenience, then.

[with a nod, Dohalim leads Morax to the door, opening it for him before they make their way down the hallway. the visible sky is now taking on a purple-pink hue, as the lights illuminate the halls. Dohalim's subjects are seen roaming around them, offering glances and smiles, ones that he offers back. it... is a rather comfortable environment through its austerity, seen by the people who are casually sitting on the chairs and couches, striking up conversation]

How would you rather be addressed? Would you prefer your name, or do you have a sobriquet to go by? [Dohalim reaches up to tap his chin gently in thought] If I could be honest, I'm sure that most, if not all of the people here do not know the names of the astral spirits, or that they exist at all.

[his voice is soft as to not bring attention to the conversation at hand, but enough that Morax should be able to hear him, still]

Ah. Thank you.

[at ease, Morax follows Dohalim without hesitation, taking in the surroundings and sky both. as night approaches, there's a familiar sensation of coolness, well beyond the gentle temperature indoors. it's something he's always noticed, perhaps because the sun and moon both do so much to affect the land itself.]

I... have been considering that for a time now. [it's a question he's not yet come to a proper answer for, if he's honest.] Before, it hadn't been much of an issue; those who knew what I am would hardly bat a lash at my existence, particularly with... with Melqal around.

[there's a pause there, as though he were going to say something else, but changed his mind. after all, the reality is probably that they feared him - Morax was not always known to be any sort of benevolent creature. the need to prove his prowess as a warrior and an elemental had been rare, but even so. he'd rather think it was their respect for Melqal that kept them quiet than blind fear in him.]

If you believe it will cause you no undue difficulty, I believe I will continue using Morax. Else... there are a few names I can recall, from the long ages prior to our meeting. I can choose one of the less... offensive ones.

Whatever would make you more comfortable.

[as they walk by, Dohalim shows Morax the different parts of the palace, and the different pathways and shortcuts to get him to different wings. he even briefly shows him the inside of the library if he so chooses to entertain himself in that way, mentioning that there may be some books and tomes from his and Melqal's time. Dohalim continues with the light chatter; it's honestly getting him to stop is the challenge. but he'll relay small details about the palace that he knows, down to the minutia of what plants and flowers are potted and why. which brings him to a point of curiosity...]

If you would allow me to ask... I must know. The legend in our family states that the reason why we have such an affinity for earth astral artes is because it was a gift bestowed by the spirits themselves. My question is, were you the one who blessed Melqal with this gift?

Morax is just fine, then.

[with that answered, the elemental is honestly quite happy to listen. even if it's mundane chatter, with little impact on Dohalim personally, what he chooses to talk about says a lot of things about the man. here and there, he'll interject with questions or commentary, only pausing when Dohalim asks about the gift his family carries.]

Ah... that. I... cannot say it's that simple. Although Melqal and I shared a great many gifts, his affinity for earth artes is ultimately what brought us together, and to my recollection it was not I who bestowed it. I had no trust in Renans in those days, and he worked tirelessly to overcome my vitriol. [his smile is soft as he speaks, and he inclines his head.] Perhaps, if I were to try to remember before then, I could answer the question with more certainty, but the past is... hazy.

I suppose, if the legend claims it to have happened around Melqal's time, perhaps it was his diligence that solidified the gift for the rest of his line. He and I would speak at length about them, and about how to weave an arte with energy in order to produce the least strain on myself and the world.

Come to think of it, I don't know what he did, after sealing me away. I suppose it could have been amid all that where the legend was solidified into history. Many did seem to hold him with the same regard as some unknowable mystic, though he could not have been further from that.

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