Deception

"You don't need to apologise, I find this all fascinating. I was kept away from learning about other kingdoms for my entire life, you know?My ancestors isolated Ignis and so I barely knew anything about the places outside it. Just because I want to take them over doesn't mean I want to ruin them, I hope you know that. I'm perfectly happy to let the other kingdoms keep their unique cultures; I just want to have them under my control is all. I don't think I'd like my home to lose what makes us unique, so I won't impose our traditions on others, I guess-- because I find them fascinating; all these other places. I imagine even Pruina has its good qualities," he began as he calmly slipped his hood down now the curtains were adjusted to block the sun out, setting a book on his lap in preparation. He wasn't an avid reader, and nor was he a typical King, but he knew when he had to devote himself to his work in keeping with the role he had - and the hours it would take to get to Harenae presented him with ample time to get some work done.

"So remind me some point in the future about taking you around Ignis properly, it sounds like it'd be beneficial for you and your research. You don't have much written about us yet so I'd like to help you with that in any way I can. Maybe I'll take you down to the library again, give you access to some files from my ancestors? I'm sure my grandfather's diary is still there, you could have a read of that - he was in charge during one of the kingdom's worse famines, so... it's probably a really fucking depressing read, but... it's history, and you said you like history."
 
"Well, all history is depressing, in some way or another," he reminded with a shrug as he slumped a bit in his seat. If the king was able to be comfortable, he would like to be able to do the same. In fact, his ideal activity would be to sleep, what with waking up early for their ride. He knew it would be rude though, and instead simply yawned and rested his eyes.

"I think that would be fun. I don't know much about architecture but everything in Ignis is built so nicely," he admitted, hesitating to set his head on Lysander's arm. He felt minuscule besides the man and the fact that his head seemed to rest near the King's Lower chest rather than his shoulder was evidence of that.
 
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Given how often he felt he had brought attention to the differences in their stature, the demon refrained from doing so again, even if he found the sight remarkably cute and wanted to pay Neotoma that compliment. Instead, he adjusted his arm a tad to give the halfling a little more support and simply let him rest in silence - albeit stealing a few glances at him as the time passed to take in how cute it was.

The journey to Harenae was always going to be a long one, but Lysander had underestimated how tough it would be for the carriage to travel through each kingdom and the unique terrains. Pruina was easily the worst of the bunch, the harsh cold, blizzard-like winds and snow-covered paths being an obstacle that took longer than he expected to overcome. Once that kingdom was out of the way, the rest of the journey was relatively smooth, albeit still arduous and long. He tried to do some work, but eventually realised that all he wanted to do was sleep to pass the time, that rest only broken by frequent conversations with Neotoma.

Eventually, Harenae came into view, the heat hitting him hard the instant he stepped down from the carriage to take in the dessert terrain. It didn't bother him too much, if anything it made him feel far more comfortable.

"So this is Harenae, hm?" He smiled as he grabbed the bags and heaved them over his shoulder easily, nodding appreciatively at the driver and the horse-like beings that had pulled the carriage along. "...It's pretty. Lot of sand, huh? Never really seen sand before, so this is... different."
 
Admittedly, Neotoma felt bad for their lack of conversation through Pruina but as stated, his cold blood made it difficult to simply move without difficulty due to his body's reaction. He only really started to move again when he had traveled to the more swampy, yet significant warmer kingdom of the Orcs. After apologizing profusely, he did enjoy the occasional conversations, having explained each one's culture as well as possible. He wanted to impress the King and one skill he had the most practice in was in knowledge. He could do spells, which often impressed some of the less common magic users, such as Orcs and the catlike creatures of Pruina.

The minute Neotoma set foot in the sand of his home, he couldn't help but smile. To feel the red sands between his toes and to feel comfortable in the dry heat, the familiarity was almost strange to him. Motioning Lysander to follow, he walked easily into the sandy terrain, his sandals having been specially designed to make the sand easier to walk on - he seemed to be the only halfling he ever met and most lamias used their snakelike bodies to traverse Harenae with more ease than he could. After a few steps, the entrance led to a stone overlook, with the busy citizens of the Harenaen capital could be seen below.

"This is the epicenter of my home," he explained after a long pause, soaking in everything with a grin. "It's beautiful, isn't it? My village is nothing compared to the palace and all of the nice homes here but it's true, you know? The process of building bricks here is fascinating, really - though I'm sure you're not interested, huh?"
 
While the halfling was able to walk along the sand effortlessly, the demon naturally had more of an issue with it, his own shoes not suited for the terrain. Even if they were, he knew that he would be likely to still have an issue, given his lack of experience walking along a terrain like sand - he was more used to the rocky landscape of Ignis, after all. He kept his struggle to himself, despite growing more irritated the more he walked, fighting to stay on his feet with every step he took.

It was only seeing the epicentre of the kingdom that took away the irritation, taking in the view of the bustling, lively town with a smile. He had no doubt that the people there wouldn't welcome him with open arms immediately -he stood out like a sore thumb, and the malevolence the demons had been rumoured to possess would likely have been told amongst them for decades- but he found himself smiling nonetheless, finding the sight of the townsfolk going about their daily lives far more interesting than he thought it would be. He had observed his own kingdom bustle about in the capital in a manner not too dissimilar, but there was something far more charming about Harenae's capital - it felt far more quaint and exotic, and undoubtedly far more colourful than his kingdom which, other than the burning lava and fires, was often shrouded in darkness.

He had barely been in the land for five minutes, yet he felt more comfortable than he could have imagined himself being.

"No, this is fascinating; it all is," he encouraged as he forced himself to glance away, running his fingers through the red sand beneath his feet curiously. "I... like it here, it's beautiful, Neotoma. Can't say I enjoy walking on the sand, but I'm not used to it. It's lovely here, really. I imagine your village is just as beautiful, hm?"
 
"It's a little... messier," he admitted as he led the King down the slope that led to the capital, huffing as he managed to skillfully slide down it through the sand without falling flat on his face. Once down the somewhat steep hill, he smiled up at the King encouragingly.

"It's a bit of a trek to my village, are you sure you're up to it? There's a shop in the capital who sells shoes for tourists like you. I'm sure you can afford them, they aren't too expensive," he reassured, his loose clothes billowing in the wind to enjoy the comfort of having the heat broken up by the cool breeze. It was a feeling he admittedly missed, especially when the wind felt natural against his scales.

"Come on, now. I'm sure I can find us a ride to my village so I don't have to watch you make a fool of yourself," he snorted, his grin remaining on his lips. To hear Lysander find his home beautiful and fascinating made his heart swell with pride. This was a King so to have his praise was amazing. "Oh, I'm just so excited to be your tour guide, Lysander! I assume you want to avoid the palace, if you want to remain anonymous."
 
"Even if I wanted shoes, I doubt they'll have my size in stock - they were hardly anticipating a demon to visit, were they? it's best we don't even trail in and embarrass ourselves asking. Besides, I'm getting used to walking on the sand now, might as well see the rest of the trek through. After this, I want some of that honey-glazed cake you said is traditional here. I could do with a large helping of that; it's what's keeping me going, really," he grinned as he adjusted the bags over his shoulder quietly, dusting a few grains of sand from his arms after following the other down the bank.

The light breeze was a welcome addition, smiling to himself at how nice it was. The presence of a light breeze was unheard of in his kingdom, after all. The winds that did occur were always raging and fierce, often accompanied by a thick storm of booming thunder and lightning. A light, gentle breeze was a rarity, if ever present at all, so he took a brief moment to himself to admire how nice it felt.

"I'm up for the trek, let's just get going. Avoid the palace, obviously. Your Queen is... remarkable, I quite like her, but I'd rather not have to get int a discussion with her about why I'm here unannounced, I suppose. It's best we bypass the castle altogether and head straight for your village."
 
"We can stop at the local - well, I suppose it's like a tavern," he suggested as he continued on, the loose sand being replaced with bricks as they entered the Kingdom's epicenter. Lamias slithered last in their hurry for daily activities, only stopping to take in Lysander in shock; there had been rumors of demons and their appearance and it was clear that Lysander was nothing like anything they had seen before. They continued on quickly, though seemed to rubber neck as the two continued to move on.

Neotoma was more than used to the stares. He had been gawked at ever since he was born so Having a few more passerby's watch felt normal to him. There were also a few mixes of other species in the crowd who were visiting; Orcs seemed to enjoy the dry sand compared to their humid and swampy terrain, and plenty of elves hurried along in excitement for the giant lamias and even larger architecture. Taking Lysander's hand, the halfling tugged him along quickly.

"I'm sorry if this is all. a bit overwhelming," he insisted with an apologetic smile. It most likely wasnt the case but it was for him so he simply figured he would project that feeling into the King. "The tavern is over there, I can translate for you if you'd like."
 
The stares were nothing new for Lysander. As King, he had dealt with his fair share of intrigued stares during his life during speeches to the kingdom or whenever he made an appearance in the capital to show that he cared about the minor issues that went on there. Just because he was used to it didn't mean that he was comfortable, especially when the stares he garnered in Harenae were far beyond simply that of curiosity. At home, the looks were all in amazement or pride from his citizens who all mostly appreciated his vision for them and the hunger for power most demons recognised as a characteristic of their species.

The glances he received here, meanwhile, however curious, all seemed to hold a sense of apprehensive fear. It wasn't surprising to him when demons had a reputation as being violent thugs for centuries, and he had expected the reaction he was receiving, but it didn't make him any more comfortable for it. The only thing he was thankful for was the lack of knowledge - nobody knew that he was King, which was at least something he had to be grateful for. The stares and whispers would only be worse if they realised he was far more than a bog-standard, common demon.

"...Yeah, the tavern sounds cool. Let's do that, I need a drink," he admitted as he followed behind Neotoma, taking a moment to appreciate the other's decision to hold his hand. "This is, uh-- overwhelming, I guess? I'm not used to... standing out as much as I am. Makes me realise how you feel at Ignis, so, uh-- it's not fun, put it that way. I like attention, but this is-- it's fine, I'm not going to cry about it. It's just a lot. Nothing a beer can't solve, though."
 
"I can assure you that our alcohol is nowhere near as strong as yours," he reminded with a chuckle as he weaved through the crowd of lamias to the bar. It was hundreds of years old and well-loved by all of Harenae; it was often the first place young lamias would go when they were legal to drink, where most would go to celebrate sports games, and it was known for its fantastic alcohol. You could go to any beat-up bar but nothing would beat Hy'Larea. Hell, Neotoma wasn't much of a drinker himself but even he loved the old tavern.

"You find a seat, I'll order us some drinks," urged the halfling with a wide grin, once again exposing his sharp, snake-like fangs. Hurrying to the bar, he could be heard fluently speaking the language of his people for the first time in years. It reminded him of how much easier it was to be able to speak a language that he actually understood fully and wasn't made fun of for stumbling a bit. Despite some clearly confused grumbles from the bartender, he didn't have to wait long to be handed one of the strongest drinks in his Kingdom.

"Drink up, will you? I didn't get anything too harsh, especially not when our journey will take a while. I have something a bit light but even I need to relax a bit. I don't expect this to get you wasted but hopefully, it'll help just a little, you know?" He reminded, setting the large mug of beer down in front of the other, his black eyes watching critically for the other.
 
There were obviously taverns in Ignis, ones that Lysander had snuck into when he was a teenager with Imogen and Themus as a rebellion against his father's strictness, but he couldn't remember being in a tavern like the one he was sat in at the moment. It wasn't just the general feel of the place that was so alien to him; it was the bustling nature of those within it and the wide variety of species. Naturally there were more lamias there than anything else, but to see orcs, centaurs and other tourists to the capital gathered about enjoying themselves with the natives was something that had never happened in Ignis before and, despite the borders being open, it wasn't likely to ever happen when most were afraid of the demons and the reputation that had been spread about them.

Yet, Lysander was a fan of the coming together. He didn't plan to change any of his ideas, wanting nothing more than to take over this kingdom like the others, but he was at least able to appreciate the surroundings he was in and how everyone from all cultures seemed to be enjoying themselves without trouble.

"It's nice. Weaker than the alcohol in Ignis, naturally, but it's decent," he finally smiled once taking a careful sip of the beer, finding it agreeable enough to take a heftier swig. "This place is-- it's great, Neotoma. I feel like I'm standing out a lot but-- well, it doesn't take away from how lively this place is, huh? I like that-- that guy's looking at you," he suddenly murmured as subtly as he could, managing a brief nod back at an orc stood at the bar before returning his eyes to Neotoma, trying not to make it obvious. "He keeps glancing over at you specifically, rather than me-- I'm guessing you know him? I-- shit. He's coming over-- tell me if I need to, like, break his jaw or something, if he's a threat or whatever. I could take on an orc, easily--"

The orc that approached had been listening in to the conversation until realising that he didn't understand a word of what Lysander had said, the only word that stood out being 'Neotoma'. He had had a gut feeling that the halfling was Neotoma, just from the general description he had been given being a match to the boy, but it was only when he heard his name clearly that he made his way across the busy bar. He cast Lysander a cautious glare, as most seemed to do in Harenae, before settling his eyes on the halfling properly, now having no doubts that this was the halfling he had heard so much about over four years.

"...You're Neotoma, right kid? Mar'kech's boy?" He began awkwardly, his heavily muscled arms folding across his broad chest in an effort to look less awkward than he felt. It was a truism that orc weren't the smartest of species, a race that relied heavily on their brute strength and brawn rather than on their often limited intelligence, but Drakali had mastered the Harenaen language which was a great feat for someone of his species. The language wasn't easy to conquer, and while he struggled to wrap his tongue around the distinct pronunciations and his heavy accent marred some of the words, he was at least coherent. "I, uh-- I'm a friend of your Ma's. She-- well, you know, right? That you ain't been around for a few years-- she said a lot about 'ya. You-- are alright, ain't 'ya? This demon guy's not bothering 'ya?"
 
"Oh, you know my mother?" Neotoma responded cautiously. He never really got along with Orcs, not because he ever had fights or tried to be hostile but because they often taunted him, essentially calling him a nerd or puny. The fact that the other clearly knew his mother out of all people in Harenae was a strange coincidence, but he knew it had to be true if he knew his mother's name; she wasn't very influential, after all, and there was no real reason to know her name outside of interacting with her.

Even if it was a trap, the halfling couldn't help but smile. The tone didn't seem somber so that must have at least meant she was alive... though he was known in the past for not really being able to read the room well. He had never been the best at social interaction and while traveling did help a tad, it still wasn't perfect and it could very well lead to problems. that he didn't mean to cause.

"You're a friend of hers, right? Oh, that's lovely! We were actually on our way to see her, so it's nice to know that you're here. Does she still livein Jab'al-Nur? I've been explaining to my companion that it's a long trek but I think it's worth it," he babbled eagerly, his claws tapping together to calm his nerves. "Please tell me good news, we've traveled all the way from Ignis to get here."
 
"I'm not sure what you want me to say about her, kid. She's... fine? I'm sure she's looking forward to seeing 'ya, you're all she talks about most the time," the orc offered in an effort to be helpful. He was often standoffish when it came to strangers, especially ones that were eager because that just had the tendency to irk him, but there was little chance of him being anything but helpful when it came to Neotoma, after the years he had of hearing his mother gush and worry about him in equal measure.

He never thought he would ever meet Neotoma, assuming that he had been killed during his travels [not that he ever admitted as such to Mar'kech, of course] so seeing him in the flesh and having confirmation that it was indeed the Neotoma he had heard so much about was a strange moment for him to absorb. He was delighted about it, if only because it would make Mar'kech happy, but his presence did leave the orc struggling to formulate the words he knew he would have to admit to eventually.

But now hardly seemed the time to blurt out that he had been in a dedicated, loving relationship with the woman for four years, and that they had a family together. Admitting it was unavoidable, and even though he wanted to wait until they arrived at Jab'al-Nur, he didn't want to be accused of withholding information that was, admittedly, pretty serious.

"...I'm... a friend, I guess. She and I are-- I mean-- this isn't how I imagined to, you know, meet 'ya, by dropping bombshells and all that, but it's better I tell 'ya now than have you think I'm deceitful and shit, you know? Your Ma and I are-- together, I mean-- there ain't no easy way to tell you, kid," he shrugged, grabbing the beer he had left on the counter of the bar and distracted himself from the awkwardness of the situation by gulping half of it back in a single go. "--I'll walk back with you guys, I had better get back, really. There are taverns closer to Jab'al-Nur, but this is the best one. Your Ma ain't fond of me trekking all the way here for some beers, but I know she'd join me in a heartbeat if it weren't for the kids. Too far for 'em to travel right now."
 
There was a long pause from Neotoma, his eager expression still on his face as he tried to understand the situation. He had figured his mother would have had more children but that didn't mean he wanted her to. He was instantly met with a flurry of contradicting feelings as he too took a swig of his drink in an attempt to keep the awkwardness at bay. Glancing to Lysander warily, he still held his smile to the orc as his free hand anxiously tapped along the stone table.

"That's... I'm glad," he began with an awkward laugh. "I'm happy for her. I guess it's inevitable that she would be with someone who wasn't a lamia, she seems to have a type. Well, not a type but - you know what I mean, aha... I can't believe I have siblings, really! Gosh - I think I'm going to faint!" He said with a laugh, his hand now holding his head as he continued to hold a forced smile. The fact that his mother was happy was of utmost importance and it wasn't her fault that he decided to leave for 4 years, after all.

"We should go, then. I don't want to have to walk in the dark, right?" Neotoma suggested after taking a final swig. "This is Lysander, by the way."
 
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Lysander had blanked out of the conversation entirely when he realised there was no chance he was going to understand any of the words, instead letting his attention drift to the various species in the establishment who all, at one point, glanced over to inspect the new creature in the premises. He had attempted to ignore the attention at first, but when that became impossible, he leaned towards meeting their eyes and offering a wink or a smile just to cause them to glance away again in embarrassment. It was a little way of gathering entertainment for himself while Neotoma chattered away to the large orc stood awkwardly at the edge of the table.

It was only until he heard his name that he glanced back at the two, smiling politely despite his curiosity urging him to ask what they had been chatting about - and what had clearly gotten Neotoma so conflicted between emotions.

"What's that?" He asked as naturally as he could, downing the rest of his beer with a contented smile. "I heard my name - better be telling your friend how amazing I am, Neotoma, or I won't be pleased~"
 
"This man is my mother's partner." He stated in the King's language, his smile only straining in discomfort. "He'll bring us to my village, to my mother. I... am a bit confused, obviously. I can only imagine how my siblings look - are they my siblings, right? Half siblings? This is... a lot," he admitted before motioning Lysander to grab his bags.

Getting to his feet, the smallest between all three cracked his knees as he got to his feet. His joints were notoriously poor from all of the travel he had done when he could have easily been sedentary his whole life - it wasn't like he would be hired easily. Offering the orc his hand -despite knowing the man easily overpowered him in brute strength - he only started to head out upon knowing everyone was in their feet.

"So... what is your name? How did you meet my mother?" Neotoma questioned in Harenaen. "If it's difficult for you to speak Harenaen, I know all of the other Kingdom's languages fluently... well, except Ignis, I'm still learning that."
 
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Drakali was, in many ways, the stereotypical orc: he liked beer, he enjoyed seeing a fight break out and he was prone to showing off his strength. That didn't mean that that was all there was to his character, just like orcs were far more than what many assumed they were. There was the general belief that the species were incapable of genuine emotion outside of anger, but that was far from the truth. Most orcs were not only capable of love like everyone else, but incredibly loyal and fiercely protective of those they cared for and cherished.

Thus, when his children were referenced, the man beamed like any proud father would. His children were his world, after all, and he often had to pinch himself whenever he thought about just how lucky he was to not only have children, but to have them with a woman he loved more than anyone else he had ever been with.

"Half-siblings, yeah. You'll love 'em. They're little terriers, real bundles of energy most the time, but all four of 'em have hearts of gold. Real loving kids. It's your Ma, really. She's... amazing," he praised easily in the Harenaen language, deciding to stick with that. He was far more comfortable in his native tongue, but he wanted to practise and grow more fluent with his adopted language, and he could only do that through conversing and speaking it.

"We met in the tavern here, actually. She just got off work, I was visiting Harenae to get out of Palus awhile during monsoon season. She came over to me, asked if I wanted a drink. We played darts, she beat me, and then... you know, I realised I really liked her and asked her out on a proper date, tried to be all romantic, like. Must've worked 'cos, four years later, we're still together and have the quads, so... yeah. I love her a lot. It's corny, and I get it's your Ma so you're feelin' awkward, but she's my world; I'd never... hurt her or let her down, kid."
 
"I believe that. You seem like a very nice person, really. I'm... kind of upset that this all happened without me knowing but I know that not only should I not be upset because I wasn't in her life the past few years but I should be happy that she has a man that has stayed with her. I suppose my mother has never been one for tradition, and I don't mean to sound rude but you certainly aren't the traditional mate," Neotoma replied, still clearly struggling with the idea that his mother had found another husband.

For starters, it wasn't just the fact that he was an Orc that was against tradition but the fact that his mother had found someone else in genera; when their species typically mated for life was jarring to him. He was happy for them, sure, but it all seemed a bit overwhelming in general as he anxiously tapped his claws together to try and relax himself. He didn't want to look ridiculous in front of the man who birthed his half-siblings, especially when he had learned that the Orcs had a pretty big thing against the sights of weakness, but it was becoming a bit difficult as he trudged along the sand, down the beaten road that branched off from the main village.

"Well, I'm just happy that you make her happy," he decided after a long pause, his voice quiet as his eyes avoided both men beside him. "I'm hoping to give my friend a proper tour of Harenae and I know no one can do a better than my mother. My father didn't stick around, obviously, so it's good for you to stay."
 
Emotional conversations weren't the orcs' forte anyway. He could just about manage when it came to his family, didn't feel too embarrassed by conversations around how he felt or topics that were emotionally charged, yet, whilst Neotoma was technically family, he didn't know him and so immediately shutdown from contributing further to something that made him feel awkward. Awkwardness in his kingdom was usually dealt with by fighting, but he knew better than to even initiate one with the boy.

It wasn't something that went down in Harenae, a fact he had sadly come to terms with, but even if fighting openly in the streets was considered normal, there was no chance that he would ever attempt it with Neotoma for several reasons, the main being that this was the eldest son of the woman he loved and hurting him in any way was a huge no-no.

As they continued to trudge forward, Lysander found himself being drawn back in when realising things had gone quiet, eyeing the orc as casually as he could; a look that belied how wary he was of him. Confident that he could speak and not be understood, he nudged Neotoma lightly to get his attention, a rare expression of concern spread across his face.

"You doing alright? I guess it's a shock, huh? But, uh-- at least your mother's happy? I don't know, I'm not... good with this parents stuff. I want to help, though. You can talk to me if you want, I'm a good listener-- or I can do something else for you? Give you a piggyback if your feet hurt too much? That might be cute - and you're clearly lighter than a feather."
 
"I... don't know if I'm okay," he replied honestly, rubbing his back wearily. "I know I should be happy for my mother but I thought it would just be her and I, you know? I... am glad that she's happy and that's what's important but I guess I'm just not happy with this. I don't know- pick me up? O-Oh, definitely not. I'll look like a fool next to the orc, Lysander!" He scolded, only being brought out of his distant state at the mention of the piggyback. He almost instantly blushed, the idea of him being childishly carried while being next to the man that he felt he had to see as a father being terrifying.

He never really knew how to handle overly abundant masculinity and he knew the orc carried that. Hell, almost all Orcs seemed to be overly masculine. He was raised by a woman, as did most - that didn't mean she wasn't strong and she was definitely better than any man who could raise him, so to have someone with the complete opposite energy made him genuinely nervous.

"I certainly am tired," he admitted, a hand covering his face bashfully. "I don't know - I'm not as light as a feather! I'm not as heavy as you but your species is huge compared to me, you can't blame me!"
 
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