Scene #850: Tales of Toran Castle

Owner	Pose
Luc	It's been a long time since a lot of the fire went out of Luc as a person, and if the truth is to be told he has hardly recovered any of it. He was pulled from his death spiral in the wake of the multiverse's re-configuration, but... improvements have been minor at best. It isn't entirely correct to say that he merely exists, but it also isn't correct to say that he enjoys much of anything at all. Smiles come hollow and threatening, and the activities he does engage in are lazy and half-hearted at the best of times. Lately though, he's been trying a few different things... Today, he insisted on having some visitors over. Some members of his old war party back during one of the last two great wars in history. Luc hadn't introduced them, though they were prominent enough to be recognizable without introduction. One of the great Dragon Knights, and his apprentice -- a relative unknown herself, but recognizable by association with Futch. The only problem was... Futch and Luc hadn't gotten along to start with, and that really hasn't changed much. They ended up meandering around talking about the way things were when this place was full, but at some point they'd gotten into an argument over something that probably wasn't very coherent at all, and ultimately quarreled like a pair of younger boys. They'd parted company after this, rather more amiably than their scuffle would seem to indicate. The sun has long since gone down, and the scuffle is minutes past. Luc ascends the steps of Toran Castle towards the upper chambers that he and Sarah use as living space. His demeanor is halfway between withdrawn and amused, quite different from his usual emptiness. He's rather dirty and scuffed up, but nothing that would seem to be particularly outstanding or dangerous. "... Hmph. Can't believe that idiot never tried to talk me out of it." Luc says, perhaps to himself. He's referring to the war in the grasslands, not that it's immediately obvious to just any observer. "But then, what would he even say to me?" An odd conversation with one's self. Luc snuffs out lanterns as he goes, waving a hand dismissively at each bracket on the wall.
Guest Sarah	In spite of the grand reunion between members of the former army, the pale bearer of the True Water Rune had elected to keep her appearance to a minimum. These were not people that she knew personally, nor would she want to intrude on Luc's time with them. More than that, she'd spotted something interesting in one of the library's books, and proceeded to spend most of the afternoon chasing down that elusive lead. Eventually, once she'd satisfied her curiosity, she had cone on to dust and clean the library. Old books practically breed dust; theirs were no exception, and some of those texts were old and pricey indeed. After that her cleaning had taken her up to the living quarters, where she'd contented herself with mending a few garments that had gotten a bit worse for the wear; patching some frayed seams in one of her dresses, and mending a light tear in one of Luc's coats. She's still stitching the coat when he makes his way back up, dismissing torches as he goes. "Hm?" Sarah's earrings clink softly as she raises her head at Luc's approach, but the gesture isn't one of startlement. Thanks to the True Runes she knows his presence as surely as breathing. It's difficult to miss a True Rune, especially one on his level; at the same time, it's something so regular to her senses that she almost doesn't notice it. She has a faint idea of what he's talking about, but she had never really met Futch personally. At least, not enough to get a solid idea of his personality or where he stood with Luc. Setting the coat, needle, and thread aside, she stands, stretching; the satisfying pop of joints accompanies the gesture. "Mm. I gather you had a good visit," she comments, almost deadpan, regarding the dirt and the scuffed-up look about him. Sarah sighs, but it's more of a resigned sound than anything else, because no matter what universe you find yourself in, it seems boys will be boys. "Really. Look at you. What were you two /doing/?"
Luc	"'Hm' what?" Luc asks, noticing the noise that escapes Sarah even at this distance. The particular coat that he's wearing right now isn't actually damaged substantially, but it is pretty dirty. Check that, looks a bit thorny too. Probably horsing around in the gardens or something. It's one of the few locations on the castle that the dragons of the dragon knights can even go in this place, though it is possible for them to reach the larger lower halls without issue. The questioning noise is most of what attracted his attention. His eyes slide to the garments that Sarah has been mending. Surely this isn't what she's been doing this whole time? Luc issues a puff of air, hanging his thorny, dusty coat up and moving over to look at the partially repaired clothing. He asks, "You haven't been doing this the whole time, have you?" Perhaps a little too critically. There was a time when he wouldn't be surprised or critical of these things, but the Luc of yesteryear wasn't actually quite so much of a shut-in. And it's going to be getting cold soon, if the chill hasn't set in already. Warm times are wasted indoors. Then again... Luc glances at Sarah's clothes again. Really, she'd wilt in just about any weather. In answer to Sarah's question, Luc smiles. It's not creepy right now, though the mischevious trickster expression is rather strange to see on the wind mage now that he's over thirty. He says, "Fighting, same thing we always do when we're in each other's company for a little while." "If Sasuke were around, it would have been a real party." He remarks, ever more amusedly.
Guest Sarah	"I had been wondering if you were finally finished with Futch." Sarah shakes her head, glancing up as Luc calls her on her quiet, inquisitive sound. "And so you are. I thought I had sensed him leaving, but I wasn't certain." Although she could technically track someone by the water content of their bodies, it's an exacting way to do it, and it requires absolute concentration on her part. She hadn't been that heavily invested into the matter to want to bother with that. One shoulder rolls in a shrug. "As to that, no. I was in the library for several hours. I decided I couldn't sit any longer bent over a book, so I thought I might see to some cleaning and light work." In other words, she was bored, and she didn't really feel like intruding on Luc and his visitor. "In truth, there wasn't much to mend, but some of the stitching was beginning to fray." She blinks a little owlishly at his mischevious expression, one that promises all sorts of merry hell. Or maybe it's an indication that he'd gotten to indulge in all sorts of merry hell. "Sometimes," she says, with a fond smile and a resigned sigh, "I never think I'll understand you. What's the point of inviting him if all you'll do is quarrel?"
Luc	"So rather than being bent over a book, you decided to be bent over clothes." Luc observes, an incredulous look crossing his face. After a moment he takes a seat on the floor and pulls off his boots, stuffing them beneath the bed as he goes. Compared to himself, Futch has relatively little presence. He's not a particularly "magic" person, although he is a dragon rider. There could hardly be two people much different than Luc and Futch, however. One is tall and muscular, the other is short and skinny as a rail. Their fields are as opposite as could be while still being technically related. Dragons can, after all, only exist in this world with the aid of the rune associated with them. After a moment, the Wind Mage seems to have determined that he feels disinclined to move from his spot on the floor. He lays back against the rug spread out across the cold stone floor, sighing heavily in answer to Sarah's question regarding Futch. It's not an easy question to answer, and why he would want to spend time with such a person is difficult to articulate. It's not the sort of hatred, after all, that he bears for Sasarai. "Let's say... that we grew up around similar circumstances. We were each thrust, somewhat willingly, somewhat unwillingly, into a great war that revolved around the runes. We were around the same age, and had similar attitudes concerning our own competencies." That is to say, Luc doesn't amend, that they were very full of themselves. "In short, it is a cordially rough relationship. There is no real ill-will between us." "And the quarrels are themselves amusing. It's not an especially deep relationship, but neither is it altogether shallow." A strange explanation, for a strange pair of people. "Many of my relationships just as strange, and I think it is a trait that men who have engaged in too much war have much of. Connections that, were we all to meet at peace, would never have been made. There is a measure to which it is difficult not to like someone, once you have shared certain experiences. War is one of them. Certain individuals excepted." Luc isn't going to point Yuber out, but it's probably not hard to imagine that that's who he means.
Guest Sarah	"A break in routine." Sarah shrugs, and her bland response suggests she's ignoring Luc's incredulous expression. It's like her to see to the simple tasks like that, even though they're things that could probably be foisted off onto a servant, or even village folk. There are a few smaller villages around Toran Castle; they'd probably be happy for the business... but Sarah doesn't mind the small things. There are few tasks that are too humble for her... if there even are any. Probably not. "I hadn't intended to work at that for much longer, in any case; independent of whether or not you'd returned." She glances over to Luc's spot on the floor, exhaling through her nose in what seems like a breath of amusement. It doesn't quite have the strength behind it for a proper laugh, or even a chuckle. Still lazy as ever, but it's good to see touches of life in him, like that expression of mischief. The True Rune hasn't yet won that battle. For all her devotion to him, she isn't certain she has the strength to endure another Grasslands War, or more importantly, whether she has the strength to endure the purpose behind it. It is, at this point, something she might actually argue the point over -- and put her considerable willpower behind it, too. Folding her arms, Sarah leans against the side of the closest chair, head tilted down to watch and listen to him, but she doesn't seat herself. She seems to accept that description, though, shrugging. Few of his relationships are particularly simple. Even his relationship is more complex than the animosity on the surface. "Fair enough." She certainly wouldn't argue the point about Yuber, either. He might not be human, but she wouldn't mind testing the limits of her rune in jamming a sharp piece of ice through his face. There's probably not a situation that exists where she could willingly tolerate his presence at this point. Exceptions are completely acceptable where he's concerned! "I understand that much. While I can't pretend to be as close to them, I think I have a similar relationship with the survivors of Annu. What we went through..." She looks away. Truth be told, she's barely spoken of it to Luc, mostly because there's not much point in it. He has no comforting words to say of it, nor are there really any that would feel sincere after her role in its destruction. Sarah shrugs. "I suppose I should speak to them, someday. I fought and bled and died with them, and I suppose I owe them that much."
Luc	"If you say so." Luc doesn't sound convinced, but he's not inclined to argue the point because he's just picking at Sarah. In terms of hobbies, most of what they do involves sitting around bent over something or another. Mostly, it's books. Sometimes it's some other project like sewing, although in his case it has to do with working with runes. They can, after all, be applied to objects such as scrolls. It's not something that he's too terribly familiar with, but he's been trying to get a grasp on such things going forward. It's much different from applying them to a person permanently. The object doesn't have the life to self-sustain itself. "Something like that is different from merely living through a war together. It is a different scope entirely. I wouldn't be surprised if many of the people who went on that mission were unable to ever function again." Luc himself most likely would have simply killed himself quietly. Being the host to the True Rune pales in comparison to that. But Luc has not been a strong person for a very long time. Such a catastrophic event is above and beyond what he can tolerate on a personal level, psychologically. "You don't really owe them anything, and if you have no relationship with them as it is then perhaps it wasn't meant to be to begin with. A week isn't a long time. You had less time to get to know one another, and much of it was spent..." The Wind Mage gestures with a hand, rather than explain it to the person who was actually there, "... well, you understand. Seek out those you feel a connection to, even if it is a strange one. But don't force it." "I'd thought you were coping with that situation well enough on your own, though..." He mutters, fixing Sarah with a distantly concerned look.
Guest Sarah	Sarah doesn't seem inclined to argue the point any more than the wind mage. Over the years, she's gotten better at ignoring his teasing and his harassment, although he'll always be able to get under her skin in a way nobody else ever could. "It would not surprise me in the least." The water mage's eyes slide away, to some unoccupied corner of the room. She half-turns away from him, folding her arms, but it seems more of a defensive gesture than an indifferent one. "Necessary it may have been, but that doesn't change what it was. Or what it had done to all of the people who went." They're all crippled, in their own way. Some were more crippled than others, but they all bore the Scar, and that mark will never leave them for the rest of their natural days. It wouldn't surprise her if the rest of them also shared her occasional nightmares -- dreams of Annu don't leave her hollow like the Ashen Future, but they still leave her trembling, wracked by a guilt so great it steals the breath from her. As it's been since she returned from that mission, though, she's rarely if ever spoken of it to Luc. While she hadn't /lied/ about her nightmares, precisely, she hadn't really spoken of them, either. What point is there? He has no frame of reference, and you can't just explain something like that. "We owe it to each other to help one another through the wreckage. But no, not all of us. There are some I would not waste my time speaking with again even after that." She shakes her head, jewelled earrings clinking softly. "But some I wish I had known better. Some of them are good people. No. I do not intend to force it. I suppose I had just never gotten around to it, until now." She turns to face Luc again, colourless eyes studying him even as she's the one being studied. "How does someone cope with that? But I am doing as well as can be expected, I would like to think." The words are given in such a neutral tone that it's hard to say whether she's being honest, or whether she's just covering her pain, as she so often does. Closing the distance, she reaches out almost hesitantly, before leaning against the wind mage and resting her head on his shoulder. Her arms circle him loosely. "...But I would rather not talk about it," she adds, in a smaller voice. "I don't want to burden you, and it isn't as though I can simply explain something like that, anyway." Her eyes turn to one of the windows, but her gaze is distant. "Be here for me. Even if I were struggling, which I am not, that is the best thing you can do for me."
Luc	"If you want to get to know them again, there's no reason not to. But ordinarily that kind of thing just... happens." Luc explains, without being able to properly articulate what he's actually trying to get across. It's an odd sort of family relationship, and not one he suspects that the survivors of Annu were able to piece together. It was too terrible a thing in too short a time. What bonds can be forged from such a destructive act? If it had taken months, or perhaps a whole year, then perhaps... but it's not worth dwelling on, and not his business to examine too closely. She had gone, and he had not. As to how one might hope to cope with such a dire situation, the Wind Mage shrugs broadly. "I can hardly cope with the history that I've gone through, even though those times were not all bitter. I had simply assumed that you were doing reasonably, since you had gone no farther off the 'deep end' than you had been in service to me. Certainly, you haven't attempted anything I would regard as foolish." In other words, she hasn't tried to kill herself, elaborately or otherwise. "What would you have me say? You've given me no cause for alarm, is all I mean." He adds, simply. Luc has no objection to Sarah leaning against him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and shutting his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I understand, which is why I haven't been prying about it, then or now. Tell me what you wish, or nothing at all. I won't complain either way. Let's speak of something else, for now. What have you been up to, while I've sat and felt sorry for myself?"
Guest Sarah	"Perhaps I may. Perhaps I may not." Sarah rolls one shoulder in a light shrug, though the movement is so subtle it could be missed. More noticeable is the shake of her head that sets her earrings to clinking softly. "Some of them were certainly worth knowing, and conducted themselves as well as could be expected under the circumstances. Not many, but some. We shall see." The last statement seems to be a dismissal of the topic, largely noncommittal. The water mage is content to lean on him, eyes half-closing as she listens. "Little of interest. Mending the holes in your coat and a few of my older dresses." Waste not, want not. "Beyond that, I had been looking through the library and satisfying my curiosity on a few minor, and largely irrelevant, details regarding the lesser runes. I had considered summoning another guardian for the castle. That would leave the chimerae free to patrol the perimeter of Toran Castle's grounds. A serpent of some kind, perhaps," she adds, thoughtfully. "Something from the World of Emptiness; something water-allied, that I might better control it." Of course, she wouldn't control things badly, or waste the lives of summoned creatures needlessly. Although she calls forth such things to do her work for her, she never treats them poorly; and shows more consideration for such familiars than most would. She'll even perform the simple act of plucking a thorn from one of the chimera's paw without a second thought. "In truth, I'd like to study that, some time," Sarah comments, with a thoughtful sound. "It would be useful to know the full extent of what I might call forth with the Pale Gate Rune. I seldom use it; there are times when I do not actually know what I may call forth."
Luc	"Oh what an exciting life we lead." Luc remarks, sarcastic as ever. He doesn't really suppose it's a bad thing, but when one's activities largely include chores, he can't help but feel that there is something missing. For Sarah, he is certain that reading is adequate entertainment, and that isn't entirely untrue for himself. Though by now it has been at least partway tainted as too much of a tool of education, its appeal doesn't entirely escape him. All the same, hunched over one thing and hunched over the other aren't much different. Sarah never was one to feel much inclination to play in the dirt. Then again... "Didn't you mention that you were going to look into planting something other than flowers in the gardens?" A curiosity now from quite some time past, which suggests just how much slips Luc's mind when he gives it the opportunity to. He's not much of a green thumb himself, so he hadn't paid it much mind, but he could swear she intended to do some work in that area. With regards to summoning new guardians, Luc issues a faint snort. "Well, there's no reason not to, but I don't see a pressing need to acquire further defenses. This place is well and truly ignored as-is, except for when freak accidents occur and meteors strike the top of the castle." That had taken some cleaning up which isn't even entirely done yet. What a bother. Stupid offworld apocalypse video games. As for the Pale Gate Rune, Luc sighs exasperatedly and looks up at the ceiling. "Lady Leknaat could tell you what is within feasibility to summon, but the honest answer is 'almost anything that may exist in there'. The problem with the lesser gate runes is one of quantity rather than quality. Summoning something powerful isn't easy, but to my knowledge it's never impossible as long as the target creature exists. As you know from before, summoning in large numbers is what's really tricky, and it's only terrible when you're doing it in army-scale quantities in a short period of time." "In short, your imagination is better than any study for that." Luc concludes, with a vague wave of one hand.
Guest Sarah	"I don't know about you, but I think I prefer something a little more sedate than constant warfare. Half the time, we don't even have any desire to fight in the warfare we're dragged into, and the only reason we are is because of these." Sarah tilts her chin slightly to indicate her right hand, where the mark of the True Water Rune lies. She chuckles, but the sound is faint. "The worst I seem to have to worry about these days is mending tears in our clothing, or wondering what to prepare for dinner. I think I like that better than worrying about the next disaster." When he asks about gardening, she tilts her head a little, looking away from him as she considers. "Ah. Yes. I'd forgotten, actually. I suppose I'd gotten sidetracked by other things. Herbs, actually. For the kitchen. Cost-effective, and more fresh, too. Most are fairly easy to care for. I suppose I'll see how I feel when winter's over. It's too cold to plant anything, now; I doubt anything would even take root. The sunlight's too weak." Books, probably. The water mage is no green-thumb, but she does a tremendous amount of reading over just about any topic imaginable. On the bright side, with her command over the True Water Rune, irrigation and watering will probably never be an issue. Ever. So much for poking at summoning, though. Sarah lets the topic go with a shrug. It was an idle thought and not much more; certainly nothing she'd really invested any serious effort into. "What about you?" Sarah tilts her head to regard him, arching a pale brow. "If you're as bored as you let on, we could take to travelling again. There's an entire multiverse out there, and if we took to selling some of the more common runes abroad, as it were, I think we would easily be able to support ourselves as we went. Of course, that leaves the question of where to go. When one has the entire multiverse at their disposal, one tends to freeze up a bit at the sheer breadth of choices." "Still." Leaning on the wind mage, she rests her head on his shoulder, arms circling loosely around his waist. "I'm glad we have this place, at least. It /is/ ignored, and that works to our favour. We have as much privacy as anyone could ask for. Plenty of room to store whatever we might want to. And," she adds, with an almost-grin that borders on mischief, "plenty of wine from here and there. Hmm. Perhaps we should set out on a wine tour. Find the best vintages of the multiverse. I suppose it's as good as a reason as any to travel." She stretches to press a kiss to the side of his neck, just under the ear; when she pulls back, it's only far enough to whisper into his ear. "What do you think? Our stores are hardly running low, but perhaps it's time for a little more variety."
Guest Sarah	"I would prefer something more sedate than constant warfare, myself. Half the time, we have no desire to fight in the conflicts we find ourselves dragged into. The only reason is because of these." Sarah tilts her chin slightly to indicate her right hand, where the True Water Rune lies dark against her pale skin. She chuckles, but the sound is faint. "The worst I seem to have to worry about these days is mending the tears in our clothing, or wondering what to prepare for dinner. Perhaps now and again thinking of some diversion to amuse us. True, sometimes the days may feel a little too long, but I think I prefer that to worrying about the next disaster." When he asks about gardening, she tilts her head a little, looking away as she considers. Yes,s he had mentioned growing herbs. It isn't as though they're hurting for finances, but why pay for something she could create herself? "I had," she confirms. "I suppose I'd been sidetracked by other things. Herbs, for the kitchen. We aren't exactly bankrupt, but I prefer not to pay for something I can otherwise find for myself. Well, I suppose we'll see how I feel when spring comes around. It's too cold to plant anything right now. I doubt I could coax anything to take root. The sunlight is too weak." How does she know all of this? She's no gardener, and while she came from a farming village, it isn't as though she had actually participated in anything. She had never been given that opportunity... but knowing her, the answer is pretty easy: Books. Even in the days of her confinement within the One Temple, she had done a tremendous amount of reading across a mind-boggling breadth of subjects. Agriculture had probably been a common topic within the library's vast collection. On the bright side, with the runes at her disposal, irrigation will never be a problem. She could make the very desert bloom... if she could stand to be in it for more than fifteen minutes. "What about you?" Sarah tilts her head to regard the wind mage, leaning on him companionably. One pale brow arches slightly. "If you're as bored as you let on, we could take to travelling again. There remains an entire multiverse to discover, and I am quite certain there are wonders we have yet to see that would excite even us. If we took to selling common runes as we went, we would easily be able to support ourselves as we went." "Of course, that leaves the question of where to go," she says, sighing. That's always the fundamental problem, isn't it? It isn't that there isn't anywhere to go, out there... it's that there are too /many/ places to go. The choices are bewildering. "Well, at worst, either we throw darts at a map, or we simply pick a direction and start travelling that way." Her arms circle loosely around his waist as she leans on him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Still. I am grateful for this place. It /is/ ignored, and that is a point in our favour. We have as much privacy as anyone could ask for, and more space than we could ever use." "We could always travel in search of wine. I seem to recall several good vintages from the last time we did so, but I'm certain there is better out there. It is, after all, a terribly vast multiverse." Sarah grins, faintly, stretching up to press a kiss to the side of his neck, just under the ear. When she pulls back, it's only far enough to whisper into his ear. "Our stores are hardly running low, but perhaps it's time for a little more variety. What do you think...?"
Luc	"It's true, but I'd rather not think of it that way very much." Luc confesses, gazing at the mark on Sarah's hand critically. "All of the trouble surrounding them is what drove me to desperation to begin with." It might be a different story if he could survive separation from his own, but even if he could, he's not certain he could bear to be without it. It's a much heavier weight to remove from himself than something as simple as a weapon or an occupation. To rid himself of the True Wind Rune would be a weight from his soul, and he's not certain how well he could cope with that, either. It may be preferable to how he exists now. But probably not. It would also leave him fantastically vulnerable. It would not do for Sasarai to be the only one to bear such a burden, however unknowingly. A snort of amusement issues from the Wind Mage with regards to preferring more peaceful, boring times. "Well," He says, "it's a reasonable way to prefer to live, and I don't disagree with your assessment. But it's hard to adjust to living a lazy life once you've lived a violent one. It's why soldiers often cannot cope when they return home from war. Still... it's such things that breed the likes of Luca Blight. Without the warring of men he might never have become the beast that he was, and in that respect you're right. But a life without adventure gets awfully dull too." "Conflict is a necessary evil in the development of one's path in life. What conflicts might I use to leave my old path for a new one? It's not a question easily answered in comfort and lazy days." Not that Luc is suggesting war and strife is the answer, but it certainly all explains his meandering. His days were spent engaged in warfare and finding his answers that way. The answers were ugly as can be. The runes themselves caused misfortune and conflict. Beyond even that, at the end of the road, lies nothingness. When such powerful forces dictate your life for so long, how do you take control of the rudder again? Self-destruction proved to be the incorrect choice. What, then? On the other hand, Luc can be an awfully lazy soul. He makes a noise of dissatisfaction, "That's all well and good, but..." He supposes that his mental image isn't quite correct, "... I'm just imagining you trying to work a field and giving up in short order. You'd really need to summon something with the tools to work the soil. That's not the same as a garden, tho'..." No need for heavy tools or beasts of burden. The image of Sarah just planting spices and the like in pots and among the flowers is a lot easier to buy than the image of Sarah using a hoe. Luc flops over at Sarah's leaning and prompting with regards to his boredom. He sighs exasperatedly and says, "It's a paradox, but the truth is that getting involved in other people's troubles is too troublesome. If there is somebody who needs my services then lead me to them, I suppose. Why get caught in the wheels of some other fate unnecessarily? Find me a castle to have fun in though, and we'll see." Coincidentally, this is exactly what Leknaat did for him. An odd parallel, if Sarah starts pushing him into these things. He leans back against Sarah when she embraces him, tilting his head slightly at the kiss against his neck. Another puff of air and Luc answers, "I suppose if that's what you're set on doing, that's what we'll do. It's getting cold, so let's go someplace to the south. I don't feel like dealing with the winter right now. I'm lethargic enough as it is."
Guest Sarah	"Necessity is the mother of invention, or so I've heard said." Sarah leans her head on the wind mage's shoulder as she considers. "I suppose the same can be said of people, too. There isn't any growth without pressure. Either you're molded into something stronger, or snapped in half." There's not much middle ground with something like that. Reasonable as it may be, living in the midst of constant warfare isn't exactly desirable. Having a True Rune means there's a certain predisposition towards being involved in that kind of thing, but more from happenstance than personal preference. Well, it is what it is, like it or not. Some things are just too big, too broad and sweeping, to fight against. A wise person knows when to let the current carry them; sometimes, struggling too much against it is a great way to drown. Honestly, that's a good way to describe her life. She's let the current carry her for many long years, through good times and through terrible times. That strategy hasn't let her down yet... but that's just the kind of person she is. She might seem like she has a lot more direction than Luc, but the truth is that she doesn't, not really. More than him, but less than a normal person. "I--I'm not that bad," Sarah protests, a little half-heartedly. Granted, she probably couldn't lift a hoe. She does alright with that surprisingly heavy greatstaff, but a farming tool is something else entirely. The weight isn't balanced the same, for one, and for two, she doesn't have the strength to use it properly. Besides which, she could always summon something to do the heavy lifting for her. ...Literally. "I was meaning more of a herb garden. Something a little more manageable than fields. Though, come to think of it, we might consider renting land on the other side of the lake to the villagers, if we ever needed income; either in food or in potch." She considers, thoughtful. "Not that we ever would. Runes are easy enough to come by, and valuable enough." She rolls one narrow shoulder in a shrug. "Just an idle thought, anyway." Suddenly, her support is gone. Sarah stumbles when Luc flops over, seating herself on the edge of the bed more sedately, mindful of her heavy skirts. While it hasn't snowed, the wind off the lake is getting colder, and winter's on its way around the corner. "Mmm. Maybe." This, to the matter of troublesome things and leading about. She'll have to think on something that might engage him; keeping the wind mage is a monstrously difficult task, sometimes, but something she considers important. Idle time is aggravating, if only because she never knows what kind of mood he might get into -- like the wind, his moods are mercurial. "I'm not set on anything," she explains, reaching over and ruffling his hair a bit. It's not often that he's within reach for it, but the gesture seems more idle than deliberate. "I just thought it might be something interesting to do. We've been in Toran Castle for a while, but I agree that going someplace warm might be interesting." She sighs. "It's entirely too cold for my tastes, and it isn't even winter yet." If she'd stayed in her farming village, she probably would have spent every winter living next to a roaring hearth, and curled up like a wilty little houseplant every time she had to venture outside. It might be that she has incredible control over water and ice, but secretly, Sarah doesn't deal well with temperature extremes on either end of the spectrum.
Luc	"So what alternative do you propose, exactly? What measure of pressure do you suppose is acceptable to live with? None at all is too boring. Too much is too stressful." Luc is used to a much higher level of stress than many people are, but he doesn't think it would be good for him to actually indulge in the heights of stress and pressure. More than likely he would be among those who would break. After all, it's not as if he truly endured his first two conflicts as well as he sometimes suggests. At the end of the day, witnessing the repetitive conflict of Runes -- which others were obliged to engage in by proximity -- nearly drove him to suicide. To the matter of working a field, the Wind Mage says bluntly, "Yes you are. And so am I. I would immediately resort to magic. You... you would probably summon minions, but you would try something else first. But a garden isn't so daunting as all of that. I expect you enjoy using your hands from time to time. Lady Leknaat failed to hammer that specific value into me." Luc may have rolled his eyes at the concept of doing things the hard way. When wind is one's limbs, and having those limbs removed would be the death of you, there's hardly a reason to indulge that kind of work ethic. Either he'll have what he needs to magic things away, or... he'll be dead. There is no middle ground. A great puff of air issues from him. "Renting out rooms in the castle is doable, but the land around here belongs to the Republic otherwise. They don't care what we do with this rock, but I'm not going to push my luck with my old contacts. I don't know if you noticed, but my ways grate on some people." In other words, he doesn't have as many real friends who will put up with his shit as he might because he was a little shit to them too much. The Wind Mage looks up, and back towards Sarah. Really, he doesn't see how she puts up with him. He's not an easy person to live with, and he's constantly critical of her. Mostly jokingly, but still. It must be wearing. Looking away, and towards the ceiling, he says out of the blue, "Sorry. I know I'm difficult to live with. I'll be fine with whatever you pick out in the end. But, you know... I wonder how Lady Leknaat deals with living like this all the time. She's always the lady in the far-off tower. And she's been here longer than we have by a lot."
Guest Sarah	"I'm not proposing anything." Sarah shrugs, faintly, not much more than a roll of one narrow shoulder. "Ideally, I would think a point between the two poles, where peace and pressure reach an equilibrium. One is not left idle as we are, but neither are we thrown into constant warfare as it had been in our lives up until that point; by our own making or others'. I don't know." She spreads her hands in a gesture of concession. "In this case, I have no answers; and research and reading are of no help. It is all conjecture, I suppose." She turns, folding her arms as she considers the issue of farming. "You would immediately resort to magic no matter what the task is," she throws over her shoulder, eyeing him. "And frequently do. That is hardly shocking. But, you're right, I suppose. I might try to do it myself, and summon something to do the heavy work for me when it inevitably turns out that I can't do it on my own. I'm not suited to such things, which is why I had considered something more along the lines of an herb garden." "We shall see what I feel like when the spring comes. I can't do anything right now as it is." Sarah flicks a hand, long and slender fingers making a dismissive gesture. "The weather is already turning too harsh to plant; anything I might try to coax into starting would wither in the cold." To the matter of renting rooms, she merely shrugs again. It was an idle thought and not much more. If it comes down to it, they can always maintain their affluence through the sale of minor runes; such things have a tendency to pop up like mushrooms, given the constant presence of two True Runes. Never mind that their ability to teleport from place to place gives them something of an unfair advantage in terms of regional market prices... if they really put effort into playing the markets, they could be even more filthy rich than their already-comfortable lives provide for. But, it's ultimately a matter of little concern. It would take special kinds of people to put up with the quirky pair of magicians; Luc has already burnt many of his bridges. Sarah, for all that she can exercise discretion, is is sometimes a bit particular about her dealings with others; she is ultimately a person of great privacy. Those pale, almost colourless blue eyes blink at the sudden apology. Sarah turns to face him, earrings clinking faintly. "Hm?" She simply stares at him for a moment, even tilting her head slightly, as though she hadn't quite heard the words rightly. "Difficult? I had never once thought that. Particular, sometimes, and prone to as much variety in your moods as the winds, but I had never thought you to be difficult. But," she adds, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a slender forefinger, "my tolerance in that is not a reasonable standard. I am, somewhat understandably, biased. And I have been for many years." She settles more comfortably beside him, absently running her fingers through his unkempt, wind-tossed hair. "Personally, how Lady Leknaat deals with it has no bearing on how we deal with it. We are different people, we and she; and I have no doubt that her years on this earth have changed her, as a True Rune changes anyone who bears it for any length of time without going mad. I had the impression, sometimes, that she was not always able to think of things the same way most people do. Not that that is a bad thing, of course. It is always good to have different perspectives, and Lady Leknaat, I imagine, plays the long game. Very long, considering her years." "But how she deals with it, and how we deal with it... they are apples and oranges." Sarah falls silent, considering for a moment. "...Hmm. Fruit wine, perhaps," she adds, in a distracted murmur.
Luc	"Apples and oranges? I don't think so." Luc answers at last, breaking a long silence that may have made it seem he had fallen asleep. "Lady Leknaat is not a perfect being, but her methods of coping have kept her around for far longer than I would have lasted. Whatever those methods may be, they are certainly better than my own. My own coping mechanisms are shoddy and unstable at best." His thoughts wander, then, towards other solutions and means of escaping the grasp of fate. He raises a hand to gaze at the Rune upon it, thinking of Leknaat and what others have done to secure their minds against time and the erosion by the runes. The Wind Mage lowers his hand and closes his eyes, thoughts of previous "Chizen" Stars filling his head. Their solutions were not altogether clean or pleasant, but they didn't have much to do with the cycle of the True Runes... how long did it take them to reach that point, and what kind of pain was involved in the journey? He opens and closes his fingers, attempting to imagine what it might be like not to have the Wind Rune there. Perhaps if he sealed it up again, it wouldn't trouble him quite so much. Or else... "I have some ideas to discuss with you in the future. They will be unpleasant. For now, let's do something a little less dire. I... am going to take a nap." Lifting himself off the ground, Luc crosses the few feet from there to the bed, faceplanting unceremoniously into the pillows. He remains there, silent and still, and will not stir for some time.