Not Quite Last of the Leralondes (notquitelast) wrote in caeleste, @ 2010-09-06 01:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | orchid, stab of pride, thalion léralondë |
Never No [ Orchid ]
Where the gods had not seen to give the desert flora, fauna or people, they poured the sky. Divine silk in every shade of blue imagined, the sky with stars behind stars. If the world was a naked thing, it would resemble the desert. When the wind was not blowing and the sun was gone, one could call such a place comfortable. One could think of building an absurd house on a dune, lose his boots and drink loads of wine from a stolen cart. Ah, such wine. The grapes were grown on the arid hills to the west of the Din Lyore; someone told him once that when a vine was deprived of water and had to strive to find water, the grapes gained their most mysterious, deep flavors. Odd to think that he was drinking the blood of grapes who'd suffered because such intangible suffering translated into a good year for a winery, which he and these four others had stolen with no regrets.
Thalion lifted the bottle against his lips as the thief beside him rattled on:
"And I am telling you they made it. Saw it with my own eyes!"
"You can't see the Smiths of Orn, no one knows who they are, and you shouldn't be able to see an invisible dagger," Thalion said in a dry voice. He pushed his back against the cart and raked a hand through his hair. He moved his leg so another thief couldn't lay across it and took another drink.
"It's not always invisible," the thief, Gron, argued.
"So what's the point then?" another one asked, stretched across the sand asked with a bottle of wine resting on his gut. "I don't need any help sneaking my weapons about."
"Word is you can call it to you. Like, 'here knife!' Wherever you are. You can sneak that blade in anywhere. And the proof goes away when you're done." Gron stretched his arms and smiled. "I would've liked to have it a few years ago..."
"I still don't know you managed to see anything made by the Smiths of Orn," Thalion laughed. "You who got arrested stealing a purse, two moons ago."
Gron's face turned red.
"And if you were that close, why didn't you take it?" the other thief asked. "You're all talk, Gron."
Even redder.
Thalion only smiled and polished off the bottle in his possession. Unfortunate, that the raving Gron was the closest to the next bottle. He would have to find his legs, wouldn't he? Thalion rubbed his forehead, hoping the motion would give him a better sense of balance somehow, as Gron leaped to his feet and stumbled into the cart. Everyone broke out into full bellied laughter.
"I know what I saw!" Gron pointed at all of them. There was a foul look on his face, made fouler by his wine tainted breath and the way he showed his imperfect teeth in a snarl. "And I'd wager even the mighty Master of the Guild here couldn't have took it either!"
"Hey that title is supposed to be confidential," Thalion said.
Gron turned and threw his own half-filled bottle into the sands behind him with a cry of frustrated rage. Thalion had known Gron a long time and thought he was taking this poorly.
Wait.
Thalion squinted to bring Gron into focus.
"Did you just offer me a challenge?"