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The first memory Iraya treasures is the warm touch of his mother's embrace. She would sing him to sleep, and narrate adventures on the greatest of heroes. He remembers his home, his childhood home. Mornings would be bright and entertaining, noons quiet and calm. One of these mornings, things didn't seem as entertaining as always. Iraya was simply five years old, but he could sense the tension amongst his parents, they would anxiously look through the closed drapes then look back at him, as if fearing for his safety. The streets were quiet, horrifyingly quiet, he simply didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to play outside. But all he could do was obey, and stay inside, letting the morning slip through.
Then, right when the sun hit mid sky, while little Iraya played with his hero figurines, shrilling screams flooded the streets; running footsteps and the anguished voice of panic. His parents, inmediately alarmed, ran to reach for Iraya, but before they got to him, the door bust open. Two masked men broke into the home, but outside, where Irayas hadn't seen in the whole day, was bloodied lane and burning dwellings. His mother yelled, tears welled up in her eyes before she got pierced by the dagger one of the men carried, inmediately then looking at the child. His father went to reach for him, incredibly panicked after witnessing the stab and fearing for his son's life; though in one shot, his hand was slit through by a wooden arrow. Iraya was frozen in place, he was a simple child, there was nothing he could do, he hardly understood what was going on.
While his father agonized, Iraya watched as the next arrow was destined towards him. The blade breaking through the air, quick to its target. But before it reached him, something seemed to rise from the nothingness, some sort of black dust forming a tense cloud over him. Then the arrow reached him, but ceased to pierce his skin, instead dropped to the floor, leaving him untouched. His father watched while holding his bloodied hand, his eyes wide and a slight fear in his face. The intruders frowned, maybe with fear or maybe with simple confusion. Then, they yelled "Death to the child!!" but his father wouldn't let that happen, he grabbed Iraya and ran through the backyard door, succesfully dodging any flying blades or daggers.
The outside view was haunting, people running, their clothes stained with blood and dirt. Houses on fire, market stands on fire, it was all horrifying. Iraya couldn't comprehend what was happening, but the panic and wincing in his father's face seemed explanation enough. His father had no destination he was simply running, seeking safety for his son and himself, but little did he know, it wasn't the two men in his home the only intruders in the village, but there was a wide group of other men. He wouldn't look back, but continued to run with his son in his arms, but then, when he believed he was safe, when the sound of crackling fire and screaming had diminished, he looked back. Then within a milisecond, Iraya's father dropped to the floor, still, blood dripping down his forehead with an arrow pierced through. Now he was nothing more than a lonely child under the eyes of danger, about to be feasted upon. He was about to turn around, look at wherever that arrow came from, but instead a black cloud covered his eyes, and a quiet voice whispered to him "Seek safety." Although he was a simple child, he inmediately understood and obeyed, he searched for safety, finding it in the hiding man about five meters away behind a half-burnt log.
He quickly got to him, somehow being unseen by the men in the distance. The man seemed familiar, he had seen him before, behind one of the market stands, he was all the safety he could reach in that moment. Iraya saw how he winced and grasped his stomach, and the voice once again whispered "Place your hands over the man's stomach." he did so, just obeying to the orders that he was being told. Suddenly, from his hands surged black dust, and the man simply stared at the kid, then back at his hands, placed over the wound. His eyes, squinted and in pain, suddenly softened. The wound bled no more, and Iraya retreated his hands. "Good job." Whispered the voice, he didn't know who was talking, but his tone was grumbly and deep, as if some sort of being communicated with him. The man noticed his sudden relief, how pain wasn't a problem anymore, and looked at the child, the poor child that had ran away from a stabbed mother and a shot father, who's blood still remains at the rims of his shirt. He thanked him, then announced his name. "My name is Grim, what's yours son?" Iraya knew how to speak, indeed, he was actually rather quick with words but he was still sort of quiet. "It's Iraya, sir."
Grim smiled for a second, then looked at the small but sturdy horns on his forehead. "Those are some nice horns you got there kid." Iraya inmediately covered them, with still a neutral expression, well maybe rather spooked. "Don't take them away, Mr.Grim" Then the man laughed, he cleaned the dirt and dried blood from his hand and offered it to the kid. "Let's get you safe." Iraya knew not to go with strangers, but really, who was he supposed to go with now.
Grim got Iraya to a cabin lost in the woods, it was cozy and quiet, except for the constant birdsong at day, and the crickets at night. There he learned plenty of things, like hunting, sculpting or playing this instrument the man kept close to him. Grim was aware of the power that the kid carried, it was fascinating to say the least, but he never brought it up, bringing up a topic after he had witnessed such tragedy around it seemed selfish, although curiosity got the best of him, but not until 4 years later.
Iraya was focused on this wooden statue he had been working on for some time now, it was shaped like a wolf, or so it seemed. The man sat across him with another statue, this one way more detailed, slowly carving his way through it. "Iraya." He inmediately deviated his attention from the wooden figure, to the man across him. "Yes, Mr.Grim?" The man smiled slightly, then fading out, having to remember that tragedy that took so many innocent lives. "Remember when you placed your hands over my stomach, and some black dust surged out?" Iraya squinted, as if trying to remember, then nodded. "Do you come from a bloodline of Sorcerers, Iraya?" He squinted again, but now he simply shook his head. "No I don't, sir. My father was a simple tiefling and my mother was a warlock." Then Grim's expression turned hesitant. "Do you happen to know who she was devoted to?" Iraya shook his head once again "She never spoke about her practice to me or my father." The man then softly nodded, drifting back to the statues. He wasn't going to insist. They both returned to their activities, but inside Grim's mind, he wondered, did his mother's entity come after the kid? It seemed terrible yet possible. Somehow the mother's greediness now haunts this innocent, blood stained child.
Four years later, Iraya had recently turned fourteen, but in all that time, he hadn't stepped out of the wooden cabin except for hunting. Grim decided to celebrate his birthday by letting him wander around the forest, after all these years, they should be free of danger.
Iraya was sort of cautious, he hadn't stepped out this far, but at least he wasn't alone, Grim came with him. They decided to walk north, expecting to find something, anything. Right when the sound of chatter started to surge, Grim stopped the kid with his arm, signaling how he'd check the grounds before he'd go forward. Iraya stood behind the trees, where chatter could be heard, and watched Grim fade into the darkness of those big bushes; but as soon as Grim's feet stepped the stone of the street, chatter went silent. Iraya couldn't tell what was going on, he was worried, did something happen to Grim? Why is it suddenly so quiet. Iraya went to run into the bushes, trying to figure out what happened, but then, after all those years, the black fog came back. He was stolen from sight, and his limbs were frozen in place, the voice now whispered in its grumbly tone: "Wait for Grim to come back." Now, Iraya wasn't sure to trust this mysterious voice, but last time he did, everything seemed to work out. So he'd figure maybe he'd obey once more. Hesistantly, he sat on the leave-filled ground, waiting for Grim.
Time passed, maybe too much, but anything felt too much for on-edge Iraya. What had felt like hours came to an end with a sudden burst into the woods he was sheltering himself in, it was Grim, injured Grim. He covered his stomach while a visible wound bled down his side, his pace was unsteady as he stepped and tripped onto the ground. 'Mr.Grim!' Iraya exclaimed, he rushed to him but was quickly ushered away as the weakened man stood up as he could, with quivering arms and legs, pointing behind him. Between bloodied coughs and huffs, he spoke "We have to get out of here-", Iraya understood him loud and clear, rapidly set up his arm under Grim's to aid his way back to the cabin, their pace as fast as possible considering the older man's wounds.
Through the huffs and coughs, Iraya attempted his best to drag the man to their safe haven, finally all the training had paid off. In his mind, many questions wandered, he didn't know what they were running away from, maybe some wild animal? An untamed beast circling the forest? But to Iraya it made no sense, how come the mighty Grim, one who had taken down thousands of beasts suddenly couldn't with this one? This hypothetical beast. They continued their way to the cabin, and as they reached it, this unsettling rumbling noise could be heard behind them, it signalled no good. As Iraya rushed the man to the nearest bench inside the home, sat him down, usually he'd follow the routine Grim had taught him way too many times but Iraya knew that would take just too much time. Instead he quickly retreated Grim's hands from over his stomach, examining the wound, it was profound and profusely bleeding. He continued to raise his hand, summoning this black dust that had been unknown for a good while now, but this time, it felt more familiar. Carefully, he placed his hand over the wound while the black fog emanated from it...His pain progressively dissipated.
With a quick exchange of glances with his mentor, he continued his work, one that was taught by no one but somehow knew every step. Iraya stood up to check his shoulder, where the trail of blood seemed to come from, though as he raised his right hand to heal as before, he stops, slowly reaching into the wound, causing Grim to hiss. '"What are you doing?" He asks, while painfully grinding his teeth. Iraya, with an uneasy expression all over his face, takes out a spear from the man's back, he lets out a small grunt of pain. "Who attacked you"' He asks, brows frowned, slowly making sense of this now not so mysterious 'beast'. Grim keeps his head low, keeping the question lost in the air, after a few seconds, he tilts his head towards the smaller boy, avoiding eye contact. "Go grab the first aid kit if you're not going to heal it."
Suddenly, the ambient shifts, what was before a boy tending to his mentor in need of aid, is now unwanted tension from unanswered questions. Compliantly, Iraya went to look for the kit, his tails now fluttering vigorously from side to side, a known trait the boy displays as anxiety or some sort of uneasiness consumes him. As he comes back, he finds the older man standing up, attempting to walk off the rest of his injuries, Iraya hurried to him, insisting in his rest, he placed one hand on his unharmed shoulder and another holding his bicep, trying to get him to sit back. "You musn't stand, your injuries-" Suddenly, Grim violently shook off the other's grasp. "Don't tell me what to do!" He yells. The cabin goes silent. The only relevant sound is the outside quiet rumble, and Iraya's tails, moving faster each moment. Iraya takes a few steps back reluctantly, the man does not dare to look at him. Suddenly, in a louder voice, he asks once again. "Who attacked you back in the forest?" his tone demanding and his eyebrows furrowed. Grim mutters while looking away from the boy, suddenly its as if the roles had reversed. "Who, Mr.Grim??" He demands once more, now taking a step forward, making the floorboards creak. "No one, boy! Now drop it!" He finally meets Iraya's eyes, realizing the rage brewing within them, from the opposite perspective, the boy watches Grim's guiltiness reeking from his arked and sorrowful brows.
"Don't LIE TO ME." Iraya finally yells, loudly standing his ground. It's now when it becomes visible the little differences between the two men, now Iraya doesn't slouch, but stands straight, meeting the man's face directly, staring right into the windows of his soul, agression fleeting from his black and red eyes, his horns suddenly seem so imposing and his sight piercing. At the yelling, the mentor quickly reacts, raising his voice once again. "It was the men! The men who ran after your kind." He shut his mouth then, not letting go of any other word, as if he had to be careful of what he said. Iraya's frown simply worsened as he blinked in confusion, knowing Grim was hiding something, had always been. He hesistantly shakes his head. "That...that makes no sense, why would they hunt after you...?" He speaks, attempting to understand the unintelligible. The silence continues, this visibly bothers Iraya. "Why would they hunt after you?! You're not the one they're hunting!" He yells, once again, his tails back to their side to side motion. To this, Grim reacts in an unpleasent way, firstly, closing his eyes while tilting his face down, as if attempting his best to keep whatever secret he seemed to be hiding. But as Iraya's tone gets louder and louder, Grim snaps, strongly grinding his teeth and pointing his index finger at him. "*YOU* ARE THE REASON WHY THEY'RE HUNTING ME, BECAUSE I TOOK *YOU* IN. I DID EVERYTHING TO TAKE CARE OF YOU, I GAVE YOU A HOME, I GAVE YOU FOOD, I GAVE YOU *EVERYTHING*, IRAYA. AND NOW THEY ARE ALL AFTER ME, FOR BETRAYING THEM."
The shouting comes to a halt. He spoke what he shouldn't have. Silence plagues the home, or the cabin, should I say. Iraya's brows lighten, his face all somehow relaxes, yet comes back to this eery tension. His figure becomes thoroughly imposing. "What?" He asks, uncomfortably quiet. Grim, instead, sinks in his own guilt, one that he had been carrying for years. His voice quivers as he tries to get an answer back, to the man that he has cared for since he was a baby. "I-" He shakes his head, frowning his brows, not in anger, but sorrow. "I didn't know what I was getting into...I didn't want to hurt anyone..." Iraya abruptly stops him, his tone is imposing, suddenly all his actions feel imposing. "What are you talking about." He stands, now towering over the man, who slouches within his conscience. "I didn't want to hurt anyone, boy..." His voice sounds devastated and his eyes...His eyes only spell regret. But this Iraya does not see, being blinded by rage and a lifetime of revenge. "Who did you not want to hurt, Grim." He insists, his fists clamping up.
To this question, the older man seems to succumb to his sorriness, feeling weak in the knees and falling to sit back on the bench behind him, but to this, Iraya does not react any good. Before he gets to feel the bench against his legs, the red horned man grabs the older one by the collar of his shirt, lifting him back up. Fear has now started to run through his veins. "WHO DID YOU NOT WANT TO HURT. GRIM." He demands, once again, the fire within his eyes truly terrifying.
A pause leads to a heartwrenching phrase, one that would unleash Iraya's rage, yet haunt him for centuries.
"You've grown so much, son."
Iraya, then, continued to free his right hand so he could strike the man in the face. The man that once read him bedtime stories, the man that taught him to place the chisel onto the wood, carving perfect beautiful forms, the man that healed his wounds countless times, the man that ran away from his own home to save a small horned orphan boy. From the force of the hit, Grim was sent onto the floor, holding his jaw in pain, upon looking up, he'd be met by an unpleasant sight. Iraya towered over him, aggresively glaring down at him like a mad dog, as his anger grew, so did his breathing, getting heavier and heavier, but then, a flowing dark fog came from behind him, Grim recognized it, Iraya was too blinded to even realize. "Iraya, I'm sorry..." He spoke, as he placed both his hands in front of him, pleading for mercy, the smoke only grew, also giving his facial structure a sort of darkness to it, as if being tinted by pure blinding rage. "Your apologies are worth nothing." He stated, almost spitting out the words as he went through the phrase. As the fog rose to his hands, he seemed to mutter a set of unintelligible words, followed by a loud ray of lightning right against the frightened man on the floorboards.
As the fog dissipates, as his breathing slows down, as his hands lower, he sees through the tension. Observing, in front of him, the man who cared for him throughout all his life, lying lifeless with a hole in his chest. To
this sight, Iraya crouches down, his before furrowed brows now ark in sorrow, he grasps his knees, making creases in the fabric of his pants, muffling his hitched breathing and glass eyes. Not being able to keep his equilibrium, he falls on his behind, completely weak, like a desolated child, he finally wails. His tears flood his eyes eventually cascading down his face, he helplessly wipes away the constant incoming grief, hunching over the deceased man.
"Dad, I'm sorry..." His voice breaks along the words.
Along the years, independence was a refined trait in Iraya, as he learnt to grow by himself he had become used to the empty cabin, the quiet mornings and hunting noons. His routine started to become too monotone for his liking, before, it was bearable, having company, but now, the empty creaking of the floorboards drives him crazy. Eventually he'd come to do something about it, but moving from the wooden home made his blood run cold, he just could not bare to leave what he knew, at least not until he completely psyched himself up.
For a couple of weeks, he spent more time around Grim's grave, right outside the cabin, tiny little mushrooms growing around it. He'd usually come to clear his mind, sit along in silence, or maybe think about what he essentially shouldn't think. He'd rot in guilt upon staring into the grave for too long, like the roots that once grappled his organs now start going bad, giving him this horrible nauseaus feeling. One day, he had woken up decided, had all his belongings packed and ready to go, all his wood carving tools, all the useful book, everything, even Grim's belongings, whose room had remained untounched since his death. Iraya kept them locked in a medium sized wooden box.
As he stepped out the cabin, he was met with his resting place, the tinted mushrooms caps dripping from the morning spring water, he'd drop his baggage in place and walk towards the spot. Was this a goodbye? Or had he already missed that opportunity? Nevertheless, he crouched down to take a moment, maybe think what to do, maybe get back into the cabin, maybe just get up and sprint away. All these thoughts rounded his mind as he sat still in front of the grave.
Could he leave him behind? Or was that too evil? How could it be evil if you’re the reason he’s underground? Question after question, it ended with him reaching for a tiny glass jar in his gown’s back pocket, it dangled from some sort of necklace cord, then buried it into the soil which covered the man’s tomb then lifted it, resulting in a talisman which would remind him of his late mentor, a jar filled by the soil on his resting place. That would be what twenty year old Iraya would last see of Grim, the man who raised him and taught him all he knows.
Upon his departure from home, he’d become wary of his course, ultimately avoiding north. Iraya took turn towards the south side of the forest, one that had remained unexplored for as long as he knew. He must’ve spent a year or so visiting different towns, keeping a nomad rhythm, not staying longer than necessary in any of them. First he’d visit a small gnome village, people at first side eyed him, pointed at him, but eventually, as he spent some days there and made himself useful, the welcome became warmer. Later, he’d come across a tiefling village, really stirring his emotions, still, the amount of kindness he received upon his arrival became positively overwhelming. As he continued with his journey, every village was different, and in all of them, Iraya offered his help in whatever he could, although, as he’d help for hours in the morning, maybe at night you’d find him near the taverns doing lord knows what. Iraya’s twenties were free and ultimately…Full of love. In one of these many villages, he’d come across a genasi gathering, specifically an air genasi one. As usual, he’d come across a surprise, considering his size and appearance amongst the ethereal looking race, though they’d welcome him with politeness and kind words. Throughout his stay, he’d frequent a popular bookstore around the town, so far he hadn’t found any good ones, but this one, this one felt special.
In one of his many book runs, this one he made extra nervous for an unknown reason. You’d watch Iraya quickly looking through the shelves, having in mind every single title yet none of them working out whatever he was looking for. His tails quickly moving from side to side, trying to be careful considering the space between the shelves, trying to not knock anything down. Enthralled in his book-searching activity, he isn’t aware of the young genasi approaching him, he had been staring with curiosity for a while now, he recognized his face, he had seen him walk into his bookstore countless times. As he quietly and slowly approached the jittery tiefling, Iraya finally jumped, unaware of his presence. “Oh, god, I didn’t see you, sorry” His eyes avoidant across the room, not making eye contact with the blue skinned boy in front of him, he was around his age, still, much more confident. “Are you looking for something?” The genasi asked, then Iraya stopped, his tails easing out. His calming tone felt awfully warm, he simply then looked at the store clerk next to him. He quickly analyzed his features, light blue skin, white freckles, piercing opal eyes and a curious scar which covered half the right side of his face, it seemed to be some sort of burn scar. His hair, long and flowy in a beautiful pure tone of white, as if it was fully synced with the winds. “Uh-” He paused. “Yeah- I mean, no- well” He stuttered, words suddenly felt complex, this made the boy giggle. “You’re not from here are you?” Iraya grins “If it wasn’t obvious” He once again diverts his sight, he has always had complications when keeping eye contact for longer periods of time, specially when in front of a hauntingly beautiful man. “Where do you come from?” the genasi asks, while not so discreetly glancing from his two tails up to his dark horns. “Far up north, I’ve been visiting different villages now” He nods, then continues to add something, although he was far better quiet. “What about you?-'' He stops himself, realizing how dumb he just sounded “I mean, you’re from here haha obviously but uh… you’ve always lived here or-” the genasi’s mouth twisted into a sweet smile, it favored his features in a godly way. “I have, my family owns the [ENTER GOD NAME] temple in the mountains” Iraya then realized the importance of the man in front of him, just about as if he was a member of a royal family. As a response he simply nodded, unaware of the reality whether he was truly welcome in this village or not, having in mind his…Interesting religious inclination.
“I’ve noticed you always wander our religion and arcana section…Rather diverse, isn’t it?” The question dragged back his attention, pulling his glance from the books back to the man, the genasi was just now figuring out how disperse of a man Iraya was. “What was your name?” Iraya questions while slightly tilting his head, hand swiftly sliding away from the books. “Echo, my name’s Echo” Echo smiles, as he very often did.The warlock nodded to this information, slowly retreating his steps. “Well, it was very nice to meet you Echo, but I really have to go since I am in a bit of a uhh” He pauses, finding the correct word, while slowly stepping away, a quiet smile peering through his lips. “Rush, yeah. See you next time” As he said so, he walked out of the bookstore, leaving the blue skinned man perplexed by the shelves. Iraya recalled he heard something back as he left but barely got to hear it, as his steps quickly picked up pace back to his inn. Truth was, Iraya was in no rush, in fact, he could’ve spent hours there or so he would’ve liked, talking with this guy he just met, but had seen many times. But there he was betrayed by his life consuming anxieties, in front of such a graceful man, he couldn’t keep his proper composure and did not want to say the wrong things, so he figured he might just go.
As the week went by, Iraya found himself spending more time than anticipated at the village, he was simply enthralled by their ways and practices, they were thoroughly interesting, and maybe…Just maybe, was he just a little bit hooked to the bookstore clerk, quietly awaiting the day they’d cross paths once again and share a piece of each other. Lucky him, in one of the many nocturnal visits to the tavern, he’d see Echo in the distance, in a questionable state with a drink in his hands. Iraya’s first instinct was to close in on himself, avoid getting noticed by the drunken genasi, but this was obviously ineffective, having in mind the village was populated by a majority of thin blue skinned people and he was about the opposite, he was very recognizable, too much for his liking. As he sipped his beer in silence, he heard a yell from this familiar voice “Look! It’s the red man!!” He knew this would happen but…Gosh why did it have to. He turned his head in the direction of the voice to be met with many…many stares. Unpleasant, indubitably unpleasant. As the group of young men walked towards him, he sat still in his seat, unaware of what to do, just hoping they wouldn’t make a laugh out of him. They stumbled their way to his table, all picking up a chair to sit with him, they were around four men in dubious conditions. “How’s it going big man? This is the guy I told you! He’s surely easy to spot” Echo exclaimed to his friends, his question went unanswered as Iraya fell into silence, the last comment made his eyes dart to the man, the distinct tint of pride in his sight. He certainly disliked being treated as some sort of circus animal, so told his silence towards the interaction as he sipped his drink. Echo picked up on this, he quietly realized how this had turned out to be rather invasive on his part and attempted to fix it. “Y’know what guys? get going to Indra’s I will be there in a bit, yeah?” He quickly ushered his friends away, which understood immediately.
“You did not seem the loud kind.” Iraya mentioned as the rest had left, his eyes fixed on the white residual foam inside his glass. “Just when I’m drunk, promise.” He lifted his hands, as if that would make the promise more believable. Iraya snickered, finally unsticking his eyes from the glass to the man in front of him, he sipped some sort of pink drink which the warlock could not identify. “Sorry for calling on you like that, it was sort of tactless.” His eyes now met the bigger man’s, who took a second to later drift away. “It’s okay, I’m just not used to it.” And after what felt like a dreaded minute of seriousness, his lips curled into a smile, a comforting one, Echo smiled back, as if it was a natural reflex. As the genasi took in the other’s features, his tired down-turned eyes, arched nose, soft cheekbones, plump lips and badly shaven stubble beard, he glanced towards his empty glass. “Let me get you a new one” Before Iraya could deny, the drink had already been ordered, and he had no other choice but to give in, causing him to smirk. Echo then places his arms over the table, in a manner he could be closer to the other, looking to strive for a deeper conversation. “You never told me your name” He playfully tilts his head with a sly grin. To this, Iraya couldn’t help but hold his glance, since the first day it felt somehow captivating, maybe it was his natural opal colored eyes but it felt like more. “Iraya.” He simply answered, essentially speechless. “That’s a really pretty name, nice to meet you Iraya.” To this response, he couldn’t help but giggle, diverting his eyes somewhere else. “What’s wrong?” The other would ask, confused as to what the other had found funny. “Oh it’s nothing, you’re just visibly very drunk” To this, Echo opened his mouth in surprise, eventually evolving into a laughter, one that felt contagious to Iraya, as he smiled in a warmer tone. “I didn’t mean it that way!” His eyes worried that maybe his comment had been misinterpreted “You look great!” Then once again, saying the wrong things. “Oh!” Would say Echo, as he paused from his fit of laughter. “Well I mean- It’s not that you look great-” Wrong words. This only made Echo laugh harder, finally dragging attention from the other tables towards them. Iraya couldn’t help but smile, but inside, it was as if someone had taken his basic speech abilities and mangled them. He sighed and simply stopped himself from saying anything else, going back to quietly sipping the beer that had gotten there seconds ago. As the other recomposed himself, he stopped to look at him. “So you think I look good?” An adorable smile adorning his face, trying to get what he could out of the man. “I think you look…Uh…Fine yeah-” He quickly went back to his beer, slowly realizing how maybe the few other beers he had had earlier that night were finally taking their toll.
As the night progressed, their topic of conversation got dumber and dumber, and it was fair to say Echo never got to Indra’s, as the next morning, Iraya woke to the bookstore clerk naked and lying asleep on top of him, a nice view if you asked him. Mornings like these started to become usual, and as time passed, alcohol was simply an add-on. People knew of the genasi and the foreigner but kept their opinions to themselves, it wasn’t the same sex relationship that alerted them, but the different race…and devotion, although they made sure that that would not become a problem in-between them. As they became closer and closer, Iraya spent more and more in this village, making his stay at last permanent. Echo was highly devoted to his temple, and did not expect to change that, neither did Iraya, as he kept his own research to his devotion going, specially, since he had this special connection he had let no one know of.
Given Iraya’s long term stay, he had been given a job, one that he could be easily bright in if it wasn’t for his partner’s presence in it. As they both worked at the bookstore, Iraya learnt more and more about Echo’s brilliance in literature; it was truly breathtaking, as he only knew what had been taught by Grim and several other books. Although, even if Echo outshone him in the literature topic, his work hours in the store were most of the time…adorned by tiny, surely not quiet, moments in the back room of the place. Iraya quickly became infatuated with the man, it was mutual, they complimented each other perfectly, it was a beautiful sight. For years their love flourished and kept on, although, so did Iraya’s knowledge on his power, he learnt forward on his mother’s identity, and it was opening so many doors he hadn’t even considered. Although, through these years, the ‘entity’ had made no appearance, not since Grim’s death, there could’ve been maybe small moments where he has specially felt its presence, its commands, but Iraya thought not much of it. It wasn’t until about three years in his stay at the village that they’d make an appearance. He had been specially caught by surprise by Echo’s dedication to his own practice, his devotion was truly shocking, something that Iraya may never fully comprehend, since his own relationship with religion had never been more than a routine assigned since birth. Given the man’s affection towards his practice, he’d be the first to offer in the temple’s events, as they hosted individual combats to prove one’s advance in their own alignment with their Ki.
Iraya was always supportive of this, as after all, all he wanted for his partner was his everlasting happiness. The temple always had fame for their ease with the action in these events, how in instances, participants would turn out badly hurt by being outranked by their opponent. Echo was confident in his own progress with his Ki, so was Iraya, he knew he would outshine anyone on the field, but the bias was real. The day of the event, Iraya had to stay at the bookstore, he had helped out his partner in getting ready, sorting out his attire and calming the nerves, he was rooting for him in every single way possible. As the event came to an end, he expected his partner’s arrival back at the shop, whether it was victorious or not, it really did not matter. Though as his arrival was delayed, his anxiety grew bigger, even bigger when one of his friends came to the shop for Iraya. The genasi’s face of worry would never abandon Iraya’s troubled mind, as he heard the smallest bit of talk about Echo being hurt, he stormed out the place, confounded by worry, memories and ultimately, guilt. People watched as the bigger tiefling anxiously rushed through streets and clinic hallways, his tails fluttering as usual, his mind circling in a horrendous way, and to his surprise, the famous black fog swiftly wavering through his shape, which drew certain stares at him. In Iraya’s mind, a million things had happened, and the worst case was nailed in his mind, rotting his insides, a familiar sensation for him. He couldn’t afford to lose someone else, and much less Echo. The smoke would reach his finger tips at times, which he quickly brushed off, afraid of foreign judgment, but it persisted at the base of his legs like a sinister aura. Upon his arrival to Echo’s room, all wrong healed, as he saw his partner in a responsive manner, opposite to how he had already portrayed him. A big sigh of relief corroded his lungs, burning at the tip of his fingers, as the tension easily translated into physical discomfort. Before Echo could get a word in, he was met by the strong embrace of the bigger man, which he had become used to, yet he never grew tired of the warmth it brought to his heart. He could see Iraya’s agonies flourishing inside him, as his face twisted from surprise to immediate worry. “My darling…” He’d whisper, holding his face with both of his hands, cupping his cheeks, slowly realizing the upcoming tears in his eyes. “I’m okay” He affirmed, with a reassuring expression, pushing away his own wish to share his defeat and await comfort, being aware of the other’s bigger fear.
“I’m sorry I just…” Iraya’s voice finally broke in, it was fragile, like that of a child’s, like he was once again that teen with his mentor’s cadaver at his feet. “I thought you were dead, Echo” He blurted out, tears finally flowing down his scarred face, the wounded one would wipe them away, a compassionate expression painted all over his features, Iraya simply melted against his cold hands, which he had grown used to and even liked them more than usual, as his cool touch kept him grounded. “But I’m okay sweetheart…” He smiled, his eyes gaining this red and teary look. To this, Iraya weakly smiled, kissing the inside of his palm. “ I’m sorry about the match” He finally commented, making Echo huff with a smile, he truly did not mind as long as he had the man at his reach. “It’s okay, next time will be better” He reassured once again, rubbing his cheek with his thumb, their eyes interlocked for the entirety of the encounter. Iraya gave him a soft and caring kiss on his forehead, the chill skin against his lips feeling like kissing the very heavens.
Many had seen the worried tiefling storming through the halls with the mysterious fog, one they had never seen, and if they had, it was in myths and stories no one would wish to be involved in. It had been Echo’s first time witnessing it, but he had this strong feeling in his chest: this man was no one to fear, but one to love, deeply. Time passed since the event, Echo spent more of his time dedicated to the refinement of his Ki, he was determined to get the ultimate sharpness in his practice, and had, sadly, less time to spend focusing on his romantical aspect. This became visible as the months would go by and their love seemed to diminish, at least, the manifestations of it, even if deeply, their souls still seemed to hold intertwined. This was a topic that became a painful discussion for a few weeks, as it had not gone by unnoticed. Iraya had to focus on his own path, his practice had to be honed, and he could not do it in a village which follows a completely different one, and a village where he’d be occasionally glared at for his sole religious practices. One painful conversation gave way to many realizations, even if tears reigned both of the men’s hearts, their smiles stood, as they knew this was the proper decision.
Before they parted ways, Echo gifted Iraya a childhood necklace he had owned and channeled his Ki through for years, but had eventually grown useless as his form advanced. It was a golden moon with an opal star, one that Iraya treasures up to this day. On his side, Echo was gifted one of the rings he wore daily for most of his life, one that he had held closely for years, as it tied to his origins, ones that he had now started to discover. The men parted ways, but their hearts somehow stayed interwoven, it’d be long until Iraya could bring himself to love another as much as he once did the genasi.
Iraya picked back up his nomad lifestyle, traveling through villages while honing his abilities in those that specialize in his main deity. His path once again became unpredictable, and he truly loved that.