#(*I* love you izar. and ensha.)

[rotten-pest]

👤+ Izar (and Ensha)?

(girly gossip hour commenceth)

Cotesia hums a note and smirks, chin in her hand. “Bless her heart.”

[Cotesia… likes Izar, but I would not call it like-in-a-good-way perse. Tacitly interested by. Like watching an animal struggle.

She appreciates Izar’s spark, despite her own ego she has enough sense not to want to piss Izar off, but thinks Izar sort of foolish and tenderhearted. There is however something of a genuine thread of emotion in that Cotesia thinks the Tarnished are a grotesque perversion of the order of life and death, and yet is somehow envious of it. You get to live and make mistakes and learn, your god has imbued you with purpose and draws you back to life and has rested all her hopes in you.

Cotesia may be semi aware that Marika is not exactly benevolent in this matter, and thusly therefore sees the Tarnished as sort of pitiable things. She hates their station, their curse as she sees it, and therefore there might be a small thread inside her tugged on by the fact Izar is good anyways, keeps pulling herself off the ground, even when it is terribly difficult to be so in their world.

It reminds her a bit of a certain someone.

Cotesia has firmly placed Izar on the ‘Do Not Kill’ list because A. having an semi-immortal being angry at you? Not good. Cotesia can promise an unpleasant death but not necessarily one that’ll last. B. Millicent wouldn’t like that.]

“Ensha’s…” Cotesia clicks her tongue, then sticks her finger in her mouth to extract something from between her teeth. She flicks it away with a chuff. “Hounds are all the same. Come to heel, loyal to their master. I don’t fault him for flashing teeth, as much as I’d like to strike him on the nose for it” she says flatly.

[Cotesia despises undead of all forms, though more out of a sense of discomfort. The dead are supposed to rot. While Ensha has certainly retained more individuality and personality, she does not care for that personality. He’s grating, he knows too much, he communicates in a way she cannot understand (for someone who relies heavily on manipulating others and reading them closely, not having a face or a voice to work with makes her life difficult), and, in Cotesia’s mind, he weighs Izar down and fetters her mission. He will die, in one way or another, Izar won’t. Despite supposedly being her caretaker, he does not seem especially competent (which is a touch ironic, but that probably just pisses her off more). This reading is incorrect, obviously, and Cotesia’s probably just sore Ensha’s not easily contended with. She does, however, have a begrudging respect for his apparent care for Izar, if only that it makes Cotesia’s manipulations a lot harder, and she’s nothing if not sporting.]

[izar-tarazed]

Ancient Ruins of Rauh. I think Izar has found her new favorite spot in the world.

[izar-tarazed]

As the voice from deeper inside the cave speaks again, Ensha turns back to Izar, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly. He signs, Probably not a threat. A generous assessment coming from him who almost never fully lets go of his wariness.

Izar gives him a nod and calls out to the one in the cave, ‟No need to apologise. It’s wise to be careful, I know that.” Particularly here, so deep in the Shadow Realm, where creatures even more terrifying than in the Lands Between are said to lurk in the shadows.

Carefully, she lights her lantern, the warm circle of light pushing back the shadows and revealing the form of a young woman who seems somewhat out of place here, looking miserable.

Izar gestures to Ensha to take a step back so as to not the frighten the poor girl before she turns to speak again. ‟… are you alright?”

The voice responding is different. Words assuring and soft. Convincing enough, the ruffians had not decided to return and pursue her. Rather, another passer-by. Still, horrible words about her form had hurt her, deeply.

Rya sits up a from the mossy bed, drying tears as she gazes towards the source of the stranger's voice. Towards the entrance tunnel, where faint light from outside still could reach.

She wouldn't risk a trouble the serpent form might bring. Not again. Not today. After ensuring the disguise veils the true form, her voice is heard once more. Little more hopeful.

"...Apologies. For my hasty threats. If your intention, indeed, is no harm, and merely to pass... you may cast light. I mean no trouble." Having spent hours in this cave, hand lifts up to visor her eyes. It was such a vulnerable position, but patiently, the noble born awaited for the figure to appear.

[yellowfingcr]

🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful!! 🌺

start of the year ask replying

// I am under attack! can I reverse uno card here. I can try. for sure I am shaking your hand. what wonderful tarnished you have brought to this community and what fantastic bond between oc and canon character you've created! huge fan of every izar and ensha adventure. simply cannot get enough of this sweet nerd woman and her skeleton friend

love your writing! love your characters! love to see your art it makes me smile all the time. love to see your ooc updates too! I have been incredibly bad at reaching out to people and doing things in time and like doing things in general but I am taking the occasion to say that I for one hope this year we will get to write more together. may the new year bring you no shortage of cool projects and unlimited coffee!

[velvet-apricots]

not sure if this counts but I have this headcanon for Izar and Ensha (even though they’re not necessarily a romantic ship):

Ensha doesn’t care for books much (he’s used to seeing them as tools for gathering knowledge because that’s what he sees Gideon doing), but Izar manages to find novels and story collections and is very excited about them. Initially she just tells him about her favorite bits, then she starts reading short extracts to Ensha and at some point he’s hooked and wants to know what happens next in the storyline so he urges her to keep reading.

Eventually they get into the habit of sitting down next to some fireplace at the Hold, probably with lots of pillows, and Izar reads to Ensha for a while. He loves it. He has never considered that books could be a source of joy and suspense and entertainment, or that he would be so fond of storytelling.

(Still, he’s unlikely to pick up a book on his own, because reading by himself just isn’t the same. But he’ll have Izar read to him whenever they get the chance, and she’s more than happy to comply. In his absence, she will often abstain from reading further on her own in a book they share in this way, no matter how curious she is, and instead wait until they get to sit down together again.)

omg sorry this took so long to answer I have been so scrambled and in a funk.

OMg thats so cute! Honeslty I am so glad you like Ensha so much, he is so under used and appricated. I know why of course, but still, what little lore we get of him is really interesting.

ty for liking Ensha!

[izar-tarazed]

Oh hey, blog anniversary today!

It's been one year of Izar and Ensha shenanigans, and setting up this blog clearly has been one of my best decisions last year. Thank you all for being around, exchanging ideas, roleplaying, creating amazing characters, art and headcanons and making this little spot of the internet a special place that I love returning to. I'm happy to be here.

(Ensha doesn't seem to be sold on the whole celebration thing, but don't mind him.)

[miserycorde]

Sidelong glances, motioning fingers, looks of contemplation- all of these so subtle that an untrained eye would be utterly unaware that something was happening. Nepenthe was not so inattentive of her surroundings that she didn't realize that Ensha and Izar were communicating in some way; an unspoken language of the body that she was not able to understand, try as she might to find some consistency within their gesturing. She could only guess why their discussion was not meant for her to hear, and for the sake of maintaining a shaky truce between them, she chose not to comment on her observation.

Still, though, the seeds of paranoia were planted, and she was already beginning to fret over the possibility that they could be plotting against her. Or, worse -- did they know of her true nature? Did they know where she had come from?

Nepenthe fidgeted where she sat, the boring eye sockets of Ensha's face appearing darker still.

The back-and-forth of vague answers persisted as Izar's reply seemed to give no indication that she was seeking the title of Elden Lord... or she was, and she was just being evasive about it. Either way, Nepenthe got the hint. "I understand. You're right. I'm sure that this is a topic you hear about frequently, given the circumstances. I can't imagine the burden..." Evidently, this rudderless ship of a conversation had quickly taken a turn for 'I don't know you and that's a scary topic, so let's not discuss it further'. Unfortunate. This would be the exact reason why Varré was out intermingling with the Tarnished and she wasn't.

It wasn't like she could just leave, though, so Nepenthe thought to try and steer it back towards safer waters. But... how? What do people usually talk about in such a broken world? Surely this Tarnished, in all of her evident passion and talent, was worth trying to understand...

"... What is. Your favorite color?" A question uttered as if Nepenthe was delivering news of a loved one's passing. Her eyes were dark behind the mask, nigh invisible in the shadow of night.

Inwardly, she grimaced.

Izar relaxed when Nepenthe didn’t pursue the topic of the Roundtable Hold and its residents further. Another glance at Ensha; he still remained a little tense, but was no longer rubbing off rust. Instead, he was back to being vigilant, head slightly inclined while he listened to Nepenthe’s words about following battlefields. One finger kept tapping the back of his gauntlet, a small and seemingly absentminded gesture that Izar had come to know as one Ensha made when he was very focused trying to piece something together. When he caught Izar’s gaze, he stopped tapping for a moment and subtly signed, Something about her words is strange. Izar didn’t nod to acknowledge that she had seen the gesture, but twitched her fingers in a way that might have seemed like casual stretching to unsuspecting strangers: Why? Not that she doubted him, but to her, there was nothing strange about the war surgeon’s tale. While Izar herself knew little of war, she still had come across soldiers’ encampments often enough. Those structures weren’t designed to be permanent, and it made sense that the focus of battles and skirmishes would move and shift across the landscape, with those involved in whatever way bound to follow. If anything, she felt sympathy for Nepenthe for such a restless life. Still, she ran Nepenthe’s words through her mind again, looking at them from different angles the way she would look at a cluster of stars, looking for patterns and oddities alike. Then she heard the war surgeon’s next question, apparently kept purposefully vague, and sighed. ‟Why yes, a little more peace would be a blessing for everybody, wouldn’t it?” She bit her lip, shifting her full attention back to the white mask. ‟But it’ll be a hard task to whoever gets to sit on that throne.” She was aware why Nepenthe had brought the topic up. As beautiful and comforting the golden light of grace was, it kept pushing Izar into a direction she wasn’t sure she even wanted to go. ‟We should probably hope that whoever claims the title will have the potential to ensure peace.” Her fingers went back to the hem of her cloak. ‟As well as the desire to do so.”

[izar-tarazed]

✉️ !

Dearest Heysel,

greetings from Dominula! It’s a lovely spot—if you haven’t visited, you really should, I’m certain you would love it. The locals are very cheerful and friendly, maybe a little on edge when first meeting outsiders. But they’ve shown me a couple of their dance steps already and gave me a garland of dried flowers. Tomorrow they’re going to show us the windmills. Ensha claims something feels off about this place but it’s probably just that he doesn’t like his garland. I petted an adorable little dog and it did not bite my hand off. (Granted, it tried, and we may have overreacted a little in turn, but well. I’ll tell you all when we meet again; I’d write more but it’s getting a little hard to concentrate with all the screaming and I think I should probably go help Ensha. They seem somewhat... displeased since we killed the dog.)

Best wishes, see you soon

Izar (meme: send ✉️ for your muse to receive a postcard/letter from mine!)

[izar-tarazed]

🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful <3 🌺 HAHA ATTACKA YOU BAC - rotten-pest

@rotten-pest oh no, it’s a boomerang! <3

But seriously, thank you so much!! It has been (and is!) an absolute pleasure to write and plan with you and bring all kinds of misery down onto Cotesia, Izar and Ensha (cray! fish! violence!). Cotesia is such a unique character and I love not only how you write her with all her particularities, but also how you’re curating the aesthetics associated with her? At this point, when I see one of your reblogs on my dash, I usually know it’s yours before even glancing at the url or the tags.

Apologies for being a little slow with my replies currently, now that the holidays are over and I’m recovering from whatever-that-shit-was things should go more smoothly! Happy new year and I’m looking forward to more Cotesia shenanigans, art and aesthetics.

[izar-tarazed]

Something that has made Izar happy in the Shadow Realm:

"They do have stars here!"

She had already resigned herself to never finding out with that seemingly eternally clouded sky above the Gravesite Plain. But this night, there are no clouds, and she can sit and marvel with her telescope, filled with joy at the sight of something familiar in the night sky.

_____

some random OOC thoughts on my progress so far:

I didn't get to play as much as I would have liked this weekend but still was able to do quite some exploring on that first map.

I love what I've seen so far, and also in the painful way because of all the details reminding us that these are lands charred by war. Exploring Belurat in particular felt intense. With all those burned shadows wandering the streets, the settlement somehow still felt inhabited and less of a ghost town than Sellia or even Leyndell. Passing through that one homestead with its kitchen and its private altar somehow made me feel like I was really getting a glimpse into what might have been everyday life in a remote time before.

I know everybody is talking about the Miquella storyline (and yes I'm aware of some spoilers but won't comment on that stuff until I've seen it in game). But I'm currently way more invested with what Marika and her people did and keep doing to the Shadow Realm, who the Hornsent are and how they lived before the war. (How political power structures such as the Golden Order come to be and are maintained, and at what cost; which tales are told and which ones aren't and who gets to decide that in the first place are in general questions I find worth exploring so I'm glad the game seems to be doing that.)

Sneaking into Castle Ensis was fun! Hoped to confuse Moonrythill by confronting her in Carian Knight armor but she was unfazed. (But I love that bit of lore we get that she was "a friend to the trolls who served the royal family". Please Moonrythill, Izar would have loved to get to know you better!)

I went into the DLC at level 184 or something and felt a little bad about it but wow, am I glad now. The bosses do hit hard and are challenging, I haven't taken down a single story boss so far; it feels extremely challenging but doable and I'm having fun in the fights I've tried so far.

(I've come across that knight in the Western Mausoleum, the Dancing Lion, Rellana and the Ghostflame Dragon so far, and another dragon in a cave that was fairly easy to shred with the trusty Shard Spiral.)

Can't wait to see more from the NPCs I've met and talked to so far and see what their deal is!

In terms of storytelling and headcanon stuff, Izar doesn't care too much about the whole "find Miquella" thing right now, she's intrigued as much as she'd be by any good treasure hunt. But she's way more shaken by the realization that there is an entire realm hidden away here with a cruel war being waged on it on Marika's or the Erdtree's behest apparently. (And she is about to burden herself with the question of how she can possibly fix this, even though Ensha is warning her not to.)

[izar-tarazed]

Izar returned the smile, although something about Cotesia’s seemed just a little bit off to her. But that might just be her imagination—or Cotesia still feeling a little tense. A tension that thankfully seemed to have eased, for now. She glanced back at Ensha who was back to staring at Cotesia warily, but Izar could tell that the anger was gone. She blinked when Cotesia brought out a piece of dry meat and tore into it in a way that reminded Izar of… well, a feral animal, maybe? Not that she was going to judge anybody for their table manners. ‟Ah, don’t you worry. We have our own provisions. Speaking of which, I’ll put water on and make us some tea. Do you like tea? It’ll warm us all up.” With that—and a short glance at Ensha to make sure he was fine—she scurried over to the other room again to retrieve the pot she had found earlier. When she returned to the fireplace, Ensha had already brought out the waterskin and the collection of dried herba, so Izar could pour the water—from the Hold’s well, not Liurnia’s muddy lake—into the pot, toss the leaves in and place it on the fire. She felt a little guilty for that rushed and unceremonious way of preparing the hot beverage. When the nomadic merchants did it, it was calm and dignified, and usually included far more sophisticated blends then a handful of herba. But well, this would have to do. Truth to be told, Izar also was a little hungry, but she hesitated to bring out their provisions. She wouldn’t have minded sharing them with Cotesia, but knew that Ensha wasn’t likely to partake in that kind of meal, which—same as him not taking off his armor—would probably seem odd. So she was rather grateful when Cotesia brought up the topic of the map again. ‟The map, yes. I’ll get to it right away,” she said, her treacherous stomach rumbling softly, which earned her a serious look from Ensha who reached for the backpack once more—chest heaving with a silent sigh— and pulled out everything from the sachet they had brought along: a small loaf of bread, dried meat and mushrooms, a bit of cheese. Then he briefly gestured both at her and Cotesia, and added: You should eat first. You tend to forget that over your map-making. A brief pause, then, with emphasis and quite reproachfully, Always.

Cotesia’s face but briefly flashed a smirk where she was very pleased with herself. Very pleased indeed, not only for averting a fight, but she now an instrument in her arsenal as well. Someone had an overseer that they did not want to upset. And if her assumption was to be believed, it was likely because said overseer was not a particularly forgiving figure. She’d no intentions of blackmail, perse, but having new information to do with as she would was always a benefit. If nothing else, all the more reason to keep her skulking in the Hold to a minimum.

“I will make sure not to make myself known there then” she said, turning her head to smile in a way trying to be friendly but maybe just looked like a grimace.

Still, though, there was other things at hand. “Well, I cannot speak for you two, but I am hungry. I would share, but I’ve not enough, as it were” she explained as she reached around to rifle through her backpack again, finding a very sad looking piece of dried meat she couldn’t remember if it was deer, dog, or…

Eh, it didn’t really matter. Meat was meat. And her teeth cut through the tough dried flesh all the same, though admittedly with less finesse than her mandibles ever did.

“So, to lead us back to whence it all began,” she said, briefly stopping to make a face and tongue where a strip of sinewy-something got stuck between her teeth (horrible design flaw), “Perhaps rather a request. I can’t read your, er, words, so don’t worry about including them on the map—by the by, I am still very grateful. Yes, very grateful"—reminded that she was still technically in debt. Rats.

She clicked her teeth together on reflex, worrying the inside of her lip between them after in a bid to stop herself.

[rotten-pest]

🥃🥃 (Izar and Ensha each pour her a glass because they're both curious)

Dispensing drinks to Cotesia - closed

For someone of decent build, Cotesia is yet still affected (or perhaps afflicted, as she would later recall upon waking with an awful throbbing headache) by alcohol, a perplexed little smile on her face where she is, for the moment, quite comfortable and content.

“If I didn’t know any better, I think you are plying me! What for, One must wonder” Cotesia said, all movements so and such relaxed and tipsy, “I’ve no coin. My services minimal, my company lacking—hm, lest you like maiming. It is a fear of mine you will be disappointed.” Spoken with a grin, head tossed casually. She shifted, a little jump to steady herself, gesturing with one open hand. With stilted motions she curled them into a fist. “Really Ms. Sorceress, there is not much more to know about me, my dear. What would you want to even know of? Something so petty as my... mother? I did not have one, not like you might have. I had many care takers, but I suppose one was paramount. For our purposes, I shall call them… Mila”--her fingers sort-of danced, twitched a little as she spoke, a sort of frentic energy otherwise all tightly bound. “I was their favorite. They personally taught me all my prayers, every one of them. Every day.” Cotesia puts her other hand over her heart, chin raised.

Seeing this reply is adequate, she continues.

“Perhaps because they could babe me longer—would you believe it, I was once so small and weak. Smaller and weaker than all my siblings. Than almost anything. Maybe that’s why. What is better than watching something fragile bloom into ferocity? To bring they and all their kind their Goddess. Of course they loved me, all their hopes rested upon me. Would it not have been so that I broke their heart.”

A pause. Pride melted. Where the lithe so-familiar form of a Pest, kindred, of whom she knew well by name, took claws to her new face. Her gift from their Sealed one. How many hours had she had been tended to by those same hands? Kindred could not wail in despair. They’d not the body for it. Nor, perhaps, the constitution. Creatures of hope. Despair was antithetical to that. Lest you became something other—something vile. But what was hope if not a hollow promise?

Why teach prayers if you don’t want your god to ever listen to them.

“I’d do it again.”

Though she says it flatly, affectless, devoid of emotion, Cotesia's face is printed with a snarl like too-tight a grasp on a cold corpse.

---------

“Before I over-indulge,” She swipes Ensha’s offering, tips her head back. “Yes, this is all I have in me, I think, yes, yes…” she smacks her lips, face pinching a little. Cotesia shifts again, for a moment half seeming like she might fall out of her seat before catching herself. She plays it casually, leaning on an elbow.

“What would a little thing like this one want to know,” she taps her finger to her chin. There is a thoughtful look on her face for a moment, then a sinister grin. She straightens up, slams her palms on the table in anticipation.

And she reaches to her mouth, like she’s about to do something only a little vulgar and pick her teeth. But she does something strange, as though going to pluck something from inside her throat—or rather the roof of her mouth. Pinched in the crook of her pointer finger and pulled with her thumb, and then through her teeth, is a silken thread. Thin, fine, almost translucent. She pulls out an arm’s length, bites it off, and plops it in his hand.

Cotesia leans in close to whisper; “No one will ever believe you.”

[izar-tarazed]

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 ( 𝟓 ) 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄

(tagged by @rotten-pest - thank you!)

Le Vent Nous Portera (Scala & Kolacny Brothers)

"Je n'ai pas peur de la route | Faudrait voir, faut qu'on y goûte Des méandres au creux des reins Et tout ira bien là | Le vent nous portera"

(I'm not afraid of the road | Would have to see and taste Meandering in the hollow of your loins And all will be well | The wind will carry us)

The original version by Noir Désir has accompanied me for many years and is one of my favorite songs of all times. This cover, for some reason, immediately makes me think of Izar and her journey.

2. Běžela jsem lesem (Vesna)

"Bojím se k vodě sama jít | Můžeš mě prosím ochránit" (I’m afraid to go to the water by myself | Can you please protect me)

This is one of the songs that just latched onto a loose headcanon and helped flesh it out: I had this vague idea that the ‟ancient king” and ‟lord of the lost and desperate” has in some ways become a mythological figure among the Nomadic Merchants. They believe that there is a protective figure carrying a guiding light that can be summoned muttering the right incantation when one has lost their way, and it would be something like this. (I think Izar learns this song at some point, but she doesn’t immediately understand what it is about; and for Ensha it just stirs some vague memories he can’t quite grasp.

(I listened to Vesna from Czechia a lot througout the last year! Honorable mention to Płakały.)

3. Korzenie (Echo Rodu)

By the way, this is the number one song of my Spotify wrap, which is wild because I bought the mp3 rather soon after falling in love with this song and have listened to it countless times from my mp3 player or laptop instead of Spotify.

I can say little about the lyrics (I understand very little of them, they’re Polish); this track is mostly a vibe thing that, to me, somehow is about the sense of wonder Izar feels when looking at the world around her.

Láska neumiera (Jana Kirschner)

A Slovak song so I looking at the lyrics can grasp some ideas thanks to my limited knowledge of Czech but again, it’s the music and the vibes for me. (The title means ‟Love never dies” and at some point she sings about seeing the stars in the sky.)

5. Te Sigo (Natalia Lafourcade)

Te sigo, por que en la ruta donde vas yo voy contigo...

(I follow you, for on the path you walk I go with you)

Just a sweet little song I remembered the other day. It’s all about staying by someone’s side and being happy in their company (your shadow | will not be shadow but light on my way) and I can’t help but think that it’s very Izar and Ensha coded to me.

(tagging whoever wants to do this!)

[izar-tarazed]

✉️ For Mohg

Dear Mohg:

greetings from the Consecrated Snowfield, and thanks for recommending it as a destination. The landscape is quite lovely. A little colorless maybe, so to speak, and Ensha insists I tell you that he is not very fond of the temperatures (I don’t feel like any complaints are in order, to be honest; it’s exactly what one would expect from, well, a snowfield. We brought warming stones, so we’re mostly fine). I think it’s nice how there’s even some vegetation here. Ordina is very impressive in terms of architecture but I feel like the local Albinauric archers are still somewhat opposed to the concept of tourism. They’re also (unfortunately) extremely skilled. I still want to visit the wandering mausoleum before venturing on. Oh, by the way, we met one of your sanguine nobles! I hadn’t realize this was such a popular vacation spot for you dynasty folks. He sends his regards (I think). I’ll stop now because it’s a little hard to keep writing with all the snowflakes. Best wishes

Izar

(meme: send ✉️ for your muse to receive a postcard/letter from mine!)

[izar-tarazed]

🍁

In the worst case situation, would Izar ever be ready to fully part with Ensha?

Send 🍁 + Any question you’ve been curious to know about my muse! Oh, how dare you ask such a good and painful question! (I love it; and it’s not like it hasn’t on my mind already—in fact, it ties into a lot of my headcanons and potential scenarios for them.)

So, this one is hard to answer. I think it would depend a lot on the circumstances.

She would let go if she knew Ensha genuinely wished to rest for good, and was only staying by her side for her sake—but then again, how could she know for sure? This is the one thing where she isn’t sure whether he’s being honest with her. (All these unspoken doubts and concerns are actually present between them at some point after she slays the Elden Beast: She wants him to stay by her side but is afraid to ask because he might comply just so she’s happy; but she’s also afraid to not ask because he might feel pushed away by her silence. They’re usually very open with each other but having a really hard time with this one.) She would also, albeit reluctantly, part ways with him if he eventually decided to return to his former master. I’m not yet sure which one would be more difficult for her.

But other than parting being Ensha’s wish, I doubt she would ever be ready. There’s little to nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice to keep him safe. (I haven’t told or fully fleshed out that part of their story, but at one point she risks missing the Radahn Festival and what might be her one shot at setting the stars back in motion in order to go and get Ensha out of trouble. On a similar note, in the Land of Shadow, she’s willing to forgo the one and only opportunity she might have to learn about her own family, for his sake.)

If, at some point, something was to happen to him and she couldn’t prevent his death, I honestly don’t know how she would deal with it. It would either profoundly change her—she’d never fully heal, and probably have a hard time moving forward— or it might make her desperate enough to move heaven and earth to try and bring him back (which of course might be a rather bad idea as well).

[izar-tarazed]

🥃🥃 have at thee

Izar glances down at the small glasses placed before her, filled with a shimmering liquid: transparent but ever so faintly sparkling with silver as if there was fine stardust whirling within. Well, whatever this is, it’s just the right thing to lure an astrologer into drinking it. She downs the first glass—because apparently that’s how it’s done—, coughs, waves her hand and then inhales deeply.

‟So. Something personal... I don’t recall ever drinking something like this before but I love tea or whatever you call the concoctions you can make with a handful of herbs and boiling water and just the right amount of patience. The nomadic merchants sell some that I’ve come to love. I’ve also tried my hand at throwing together something myself but while the results are drinkable, they taste nowhere near as good as what the merchants come up with. They do have a blend that’s both very spicy and sweet, I like that a lot. But I also like the ones that taste a little bitter or tart at first, with all the other tastes hidden in between, and you have to study them sip by sip, taking your time, figuring them out. They’re easy to dismiss as unpalatable but they actually are if you take your time.

It’s the same with coffee. I don’t think anyone but Kalé sells that? I found it a little tricky to prepare at first—I only make it when at the Roundtable Hold, not when travelling—, but if done right, the smell is divine and then it’s like drinking pure darkness, all bitter and burning but eventually revealing a richness in flavors that is unparalleled. Kalé says you can sweeten it, but I don’t do that.”

She gently puts the empty glass aside, then goes for the second one, eyes sparkling as she empties it. Thinking, she spins it between her fingers.

‟I said for a long time I wasn’t good with blades and it was true, but I also didn’t do anything to improve? I had the rapier Rogier had given me. In hindsight, it was a parting gift. I carried that with me for ages, but I never really used it. And when I did, it felt just… wrong—in part because I wasn’t good with it. But I didn’t want to put it away, either, because it had been a gift. I felt like swapping it for any other blade would have been like disrespecting the gesture. Even with Rogier gone… or maybe because he was gone, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything with his rapier other than carrying it with me.

Then Ensha insisted I should get better in melee and started teaching me how to actually use the rapier, and while I still wasn’t good with it… I got a little better. He insisted I try out different things, and I was like the most stubborn child claiming that he was wasting his time because I’m obviously just not good with blades of any kind.”

She chuckles—maybe about the memory, or maybe because she’s already a little light-headed after these two shots.

‟I ended up trying anyway, because clearly Ensha is even more stubborn than I am, and eventually I understood that I wasn’t irrevocably bad with melee weapons—and that it wasn’t merely about practice, either. I always struggled with the rapier, but I felt more comfortable when I tried different katanas. And I finally went through my collection of ashes of war that I had been carrying around for a while. I asked Master Hewg for help and explanations. And as he glanced at my collection, he looked like I had opened up a treasure chest. Then we all discussed which ones might be of actual use for me, he got to work, and well… Suddenly I had weapons that felt like mine. I wasn’t holding onto them out of nostalgia but I actually used them.

I’ll always be a magic user first and foremost, but by now I can decently defend myself in melee when the need arises. I no longer carry the rapier; I keep it in my chamber at the Hold… I don’t think Rogier would mind that I don’t use it. He’d probably be happy to see I found something that works for me.”