Location: Near the entrance to the catacombs. Time: Late evening. For: @khxvakri
The night air is warm against Sylvar’s skin, the lights here low and soft. It would be the kind of night that felt perfect, if it weren’t for the frantic mother who had, a couple of short hours ago, begged for help in finding her child. The idea of a little girl wandering around the halls of the dead sets off something cold in Sylvar’s stomach, an anxious feeling in a bleeding heart. There had been a moment, after she’d asked, where he’d thought to urge others to brave the catacombs. It’s unnatural to disturb such a place, haunted as it is, but he supposed that now the dead are his domain. Raanee, Queen of the living and the dead, has imbued him with the power to help people, and he is determined to help this woman.
It was as natural as breathing to ask Khovakri for his assistance. He was strong, brave and nobel, with a heart that bled as easily as Sylvar’s own did. And he likely wouldn’t make Sylvar feel like an idiot, even if he did end up messing up in front of him. Sylvar knows that to most of them, he seems a weak and foolish boy, not skilled in fighting or defence. But there’s a fondness in Khovakri that smooths it all out. Khovakri would help him, and together they would solve this problem before it was too late.
So he stands in wait for his companion, fingers fidgeting as he immerses himself in quiet prayer to his patron, his dearest Queen. She will not forsake him, he knows this as surely as he believes she will not forsake a child. The hands have fate have brought them here on this day. The heavy feeling in his chest only lightens slightly when he sees his friend approach, a small smile playing over lips.
“Do you keep all the boys waiting like this?”