As snow disappears in front of the sun

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

The change in temperature was the one thing that hit Mortem. He was used to the cold wind that tries to claw through his skin and clothes. But here, here it was the other way around. He had to pack lightly, picking out clothes that wouldn't be stuck to his flesh the moment he stepped into the searing sun.
Mortem helt his hand above his eyes, to be able to see. He looked around, the sun burning on his pale skin. He was most defiantly not made for this climate. Sadly, he had an obligation to uphold. As his cousin had seen this day and the woman he was to meet also had seen something about it. He was to be wed, wed to the widowed daughter of the Zinyra family. This was not something he had ever imaged to happen. If someone was to be forcefully wed, it wouldn't have been him. But he had to uphold his reputation and had accepted the invitation to come to Xaila. That was the only reason why he was walking through these hot streets. There were instructions in the letter that Camilla had gotten and he was following them to the letter. And thus, he was lost.

[+Naheara Zinyra]

Naheara Zinyra
— “Because hatred gives one strength to go on; it maintains the fragile structure, it weaves the threads together so that emptiness doesn’t take over everything.”

[justify]Dressed in the finest of silks Neh waited under the dais of the old coffeehouse near the center of the streets. She had a guard with her but her aunt had stayed at the family house. Believing Neheara to be old and wise enough to handle a situation she had seen coming herself. Besides, the guard was a family friend as well, been raised with the Zinyra’s from a young age. He was her chaperone in meeting the stranger from his cold northern lands.

Did he feel like a stranger, even after seeing a glimpse of what was to be.. Yes of course he did. She had never formally met the man in her life. Being wed to another who lived in Xaila it had never been a duty of hers to travel outside of her desert homeland. But she knew him in the sense that their was a thread bonded between them by those who had passed before them. The red string of fate some could call it, she saw it more as a destiny line, pointing straight towards him.

Or it was the fact that he was pale as a ghost, not used to the desert sun. She smiled behind the Veil as she pulled it over her face before slowly stepping towards him. Every step with the grace the ancient house had taught her. ”Sir Rizal. We welcome you to our home.” She bowed her head slightly before him. Extending her hand to him. ”Come.” She didn’t ask him but smiled nontheless. Waiting for him to take her gloved hand so they could enter the shade of the coffees parlor.

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

The thing that worried him the most, being lost wasn't even the worse of course, was the fact that he had not yet seen his soon to-be bride. It was Camilla who got the letter and had seen the event. He for once, was left in the dark and it infuriated him. He took a deep breath, felt the sand particles in his lunges and almost had to cough because of it.
His pale eyes looked around and caught a glimpse of a, in silk clad, woman who walked up to him. Mortem straightened his back and had a small smile on his face when she called him by his family name. "Mrs. Zinyra, I presume." He bowed his head slightly, took her hand in his and placed his lips ever so slightly on her fingers. "It's an honor to be in your presence." He spoke with respect, feeling a bit out of the ordinary here in Xaila. It was all different from Raveryn and he wondered how different the traditions are here. Without more words being spoken, he followed her in the welcoming shade, feeling instantly better when he was out of that ever burning heat of the sun.

Naheara Zinyra
— “Because hatred gives one strength to go on; it maintains the fragile structure, it weaves the threads together so that emptiness doesn’t take over everything.”

[justify]She had smiled behind the veil as he spoke her name and nodded slightly. ”You assume correctly.” She answered and took her seat inside the parlor. The brew had already been made for them, all prepared and resting on the low table. She placed herself upon the pillows and leaned kept upright. Waiting for him to take his seat.

”Your Cousin and my I agreed that this would be a more.. comfortable place for us both to meet. Seeing as we are no mere children being handed off to one another.” She reached her hand to the entryway where her guard had taken a seat also with a cup in his hand. His eyes on them but not in complete focus. ”By traditions you may see him as my chaperone. Though I hardly feel the need for one.”

With that being said she slowly removed the veil. Letting the man look upon her for the first time. ”Mortem, may I call you so?” She asked taking her cup and holding it taking a slow sip her eyes taking him in. Every detail. Her future husband. By all means he looked better than her former husband rest his soul. But who was to say that was all there was to it. Who was he really. She wanted to know it all.

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

He was right, and it made his heart jump a bit. It would be so bad if he spoke the wrong name, at the wrong woman, about the one he was to merry. No, he should not be thinking about that. This was his time to be happy, even if it was forced upon him. Camilla got all the attention, with her being the high priestess and all. He was just the uncle and chef of the family. But not for long. Oh dear.
Mortem only nodded when she spoke about the more comfortable place to meet, and even smiled when she spoke about them not being mere children anymore. He shuttered at the thought of this happening when he was still living with his parents. His father would've been so proud. She explained to him about the guard, his chaperone, and he nodded slightly. He didn't really took anyone with him on this trip, not that he had many staff to begin with. He didn't like having people run around in his home when he was working.
His eyes focused on her, when she removed the veil and he had to admit that she was positively gorgeous. It took him a moment to take it all in, before he took his cup on both hands and sipped from it. He had to get used to the cuisine of Xaila, which could be a challenge. "You may," he spoke softly, but with respect. "If you would allow me to call you Naheara." There was twinkle in his eyes when he looked up at her again. He may have been the lucky one here. No, he most certainly was the lucky one here.

Naheara Zinyra
— “Because hatred gives one strength to go on; it maintains the fragile structure, it weaves the threads together so that emptiness doesn’t take over everything.”

Sh e sipped her Coffee and watched him without much shame. He was to be her husband after all. It still felt a bit strange to her. Soon she would be wed once again and she would be.. would she be able to conceive this time around?

"As my husband you may even call me Nah. Most close to me do." She tried to be open. Let him feel welcome while her family was known to be harder. More stoic than others. "Tell me.. Mortem. Tell me about you. Your life. So I may get to know you."

She smiled, leaning backwards and watched him with interest.

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

"Neh, ah, it almost sounds natural," he said softly, tasting the name on his tongue. "Thinking about the future, you may call me Mort. If that is easier for you," he smiled before sipping from the drink. It was a kind of coffee that he was not used to. Less strong, but with a lot more flavour than the coffee he made at home. He enjoyed it, and took yet another sip.
She asked him to tell about himself. That was something that he hated the most, talking about himself. Most of the time he made others talk about themself. But, maybe he owed her this. They barely knew each other after all. Mortem placed te cup back on the table and thought for a short while. "I can make this all professional, but we both know the basics." He hoped, at least. He knew all but the basics about the woman sitting in front of him. "You know my name, and my family. You know that we are diviners and live in Raveryn." He continued. "I, however, am a seer as of my occupation, while doing a side job as a chef cook. While most of my family likes to make use of plants and other objects for their divinations, I use a skullhookah to show the visions to other people. I myself can see flashes of the future in any flat surface. Just like this coffee." He had kept his eyes on her, but glimpse in his cup every now and then, but his magic bypassed him today. For one worrying moment, he was afraid that it was because he was too far away from Raveryn.
"Now, let me get a glimpse in your life, Neh."

Naheara Zinyra
— “Because hatred gives one strength to go on; it maintains the fragile structure, it weaves the threads together so that emptiness doesn’t take over everything.”

He was right, she knew everything about his family. All the lessons that she had endured as a child he most likely also had been tortured with, but it made for easier conversation at the moment. She thanked her tutor for that much.

"I do indeed. She replied to his words. Taking in what he had said about himself and it made her smile in the slightest. A cook hmm. She did love herself some food. Which was also obvious, Nahaera wasn't the slimmest of women. She had a womans body, curves and all and she loved every millimeter of her body. Also, who can say no to good food? Maybe she should ask him to cook for her sometime.

"Well as I know the basics of your family you surely know those of mine.

Necromancy."

The word tasted so familair on her lips that they curved as she spoke.

"I must admit, it sounds scarier than it truly is. It is an artform especially when you see my little niece work. But I handle my magic in a slightly different way. Closer perhaps to your families bloodline. I do not see the future, I get guidance and interperete that guidence with tarot cards and bones. They sing to me you can say. That is how I knew we would meet. The bones told me and they are never wrong. She said lovingly stroking over a small ring around her finger, formed with tiny bonefragments. A gift from her niece. She loved that girl dearly. "Perhaps I can give you a reading some day.

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

She seemed happy with what he told her, and he was glad she did. There was nothing as important as a good first impression. He took another sip of his coffee, before he placed it back on the table and looked up at the woman sitting in front of him. She spoke, with a voice he caught himself enjoying listening to, about her family and their specific kind of magic. He had to admit, that it was something that he was most curious about. Necromancy came pretty close to what he did with his divination, yet it was very much different. He listened to what she had to say and nodded at some points. It intrigued him, the reading of bones and the cards. Something that never much appealed to him, yet found it fascinating. She spoke bout doing a reading for him and a little smile broke his serious demeanor. "I'll very much look forward to that." He spoke softly. A glimpse of something caught his eye and he looked down in his coffee. Oh, interesting. He frowned a bit, before looking up at Naheara and smiling again. "I'm positively certain our magic can amplify each other. I'm looking forward for working together with you."

Naheara Zinyra
— “Because hatred gives one strength to go on; it maintains the fragile structure, it weaves the threads together so that emptiness doesn’t take over everything.”

Her dark eyes kept their focus on the man in front of her. He seemed interested in her story and it made Nah smile a bit. She had somewhat expected the man to shy away from the more macabre subjects of her families magic. But he took it like a champ and it increased her respect for the man that was soon to be her husband. So she twirled her finger around the rim of her coffee and pulled up a slight eyebrow. Unsure of what he perhaps had seen. She wondered how his magic worked, hers needed a lot of rituals and her niece needed a body, how would the future let itself be read? In his case she already knew a bit, but with the rest of her family, now that was an interesting part.

"There are a few details we need to go over. Official business lets say." She nodded, the pleasantries over for now. Looking up at her escort she nodded slow that he would also take note of this part of the conversation.

"Our families rituals and norms differ quite a bit from eachother." She started looking him over. "In Xaila a man takes his wives name. And it is custom for the man to move in with the wife." She pulled up a slight eyebrow a smile twisting over her darkened lips. "That is quite the opposite from your customs. So this is something that we must find a middle way in I feel."

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

It was the glimpse that had confused him, something that he had not taken into consideration. He wondered how it would work out in the future. With that on his mind, he took a sip from the coffee, letting the warm liquid cool his body. It was a weird concept, how something so warm could cool him down in this burning heat. The older man looked up, when the woman in front of him started speaking again. She spoke about official business and he agreed with her, even though he wanted to sit here and chat for the rest of the day, this was sadly necessary. Mortem listened, intrigued, to what she had to say. He understood that it would be difficult to intertwine two cultures like his and hers and that they had to find some kind of middle way in things. She told him that he had to take her name and that he had to move in with her. Mortem Zinyra, it did not have a bad ring to that, but living in this heat, that was something different. He gazed upon her, caught himself smiling a bit and spoke softly. ”Within Raveryn it is custom for the man to hunt a reindeer and present it, before asking for his beloved's hand. The newlywed would wear the Blackbear’s skin of the family before the ceremony, in which the high priest will ask Ranaan for guidance and blessings.” A chuckle left his lips. ”I think we’ll both have a heatstroke if we’d do something like that here.” He hoped that she could see the humor in that. But, Naheara was right.They had to find some kind of middle ground. Maybe a lighter ceremony, some fresh fruit and light food. ”It would be my honor to take up the name of Zinyra, however I would like to be able to go back home some time. To be with my family, and my daughter, afterall.” Oh yea, that was also a point of discussion, Nerys.