Leave our future to the right

everything I've ever let go has claw marks on it

Zuhayr Rizal, golden boy, always hiding behind a piece of paper and a quill, withering his live away. It was the moment he surprisingly survived the proving Altaïr knew there was way more behind the surface. Some people called it dumb luck, because the Rizal boy was a fortune teller after all. He could have seen in the future and knew how he had to win. But why would you not use your magic? It was smart. He had been allowed to turn his opponent to ashes and everybody had cheered.

Since then the Rizal boy had been a bit of a hidden gem, kept away to lose it's shimmer and get all dusty. The boy had grown even paler, but Altaïr visited him once in a while. For now it was his first stop after he returned from his shift at the oasis. He had been kept away at the hidden place of beauty and power for a few weeks, and then shifts changed and he was appointed to the palace once more. But that gave him a day to travel and to have a bit of breathing space. And stupid little him decided to spend his precious time with a man that probably did not even wanted to be visited by him. Altaïr did not know why he offered Zuhayr Rizal his kindness. Maybe because he hoped he somehow would unlock his potential after all those damned years. Patience he hoped would be rewarded. But maybe, just maybe he just liked his silly company.

Altaïr knocked at the door of his parental home. It was quickly opened by his mother. He greeted miss Zinyra with the proper etiquette and after reassuring her he was not here for any royal degree or that they were in trouble, he was invited inside their home. He rejected the kind offers of tea and everything nice, and just told her he was just here to force their son out of their room. He was like a big babysitter at this point, getting the man out of the safety of his house to experience the world for a bit, get sunburned and do it over all again in weeks to come.

Altaïr knocked loudly at the door. ‘‘It's me,’’ he announced. He leaned at the door post and waited for him to open it up by himself. Altaïrs hands were itching to smoke some, but he was trying to get rid of that habit, so he had been turning the golden band he wore around his arm for the past couple hours. ‘‘I don't have all day,’’ he announced when his patience was starting to run out. Also, babying him a bit too much would not get him over the doorstep.

altaïr
faez

I never had the chance to be soft. I was always bloody knuckles and shards of glass. I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me.

❝ A masterpiece of tragedy, turning even stars into dust. ❞

A sigh left his lips as he placed his hands in his face, shaking his head. He had been at his desk for hours now... And just... Nothing. Really nothing came. It frustrated him somewhat, as this was perhaps the first time that he had no inspiration to finish his story. He had finally finished the script for the play and had gotten paid for the commission as well. He had gifted the money to his parents, a little gift for their trip. But now that was all in the past, now that his parents had returned from Lemuria and his work was finished... Now he was free again to continue writing his own work. Perhaps it was finally taking a toll on him, all those days siting inside, not doing anything with his life. He shook his head for a moment as he realized that. To find new stories, inspiration and ways to improve his story, he either had to learn more or go out there. As his dark eyes went up to look out his window, he sighed, placing his back down. For a moment it did cross his mind to go to Ravaryn. But his throat tightened at the mere idea. To go back to those freezing lands, where only bad memories were made. No... No. That step was too big to take.

A knock on his door almost made him jump. As he blinked, he quickly shook the feeling of surprise off of him. Moving his shoulders as he placed a hand in his face, taking a deep breath. He was fine. It was just an idea and nothing more. Deep breathes, it was fine. Everything was fine. An old familiar voice could be heard from beyond the door and Zuhayr tilted his head. As he rose to his feet he carefully took his notes and put them away in a drawer, before grabbing some of his jewellery he had taken off before he had started his work. As he placed each ring and small chain back he could hear the other. The man smiled for a moment, it was clear Altaïr wasn't having it today. But then again, the other rarely had any patience. And honestly, he could see why. The other was part of the greatest organisations of Xaila. The elite sun elf group, Crimson Dawn. And not only was the man a mere soldier, no, he was general. It really made him feel... Somewhat tense, as he did know that he had to present himself well to the other... Or else.

As he took a cloth he usually wore when going outside, he opened the door. "Great to see you too," He said with a soft smile as he wrapped the cloth around his neck and over his head. He usually covered most of his pale skin, as he easily got sunburned. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but he rather sweat a bit more then get hurt again. Not that he wasn't used to getting hurt. He got hurt every night by his nightmares thanks to his magic. He had lived through so many types of deaths that certain types of pain rarely phased him anymore. "Should I take my axe with me?" he asked as he stepped past the other, squeezing himself almost against the wall as he did. It was nothing personal, it was just trauma. As he stepped to the inner garden he grabbed his weapon, moving it from one hand to the other as he turned back to the other, tilting his head. Maybe the other wanted to spar a bit. He had been training, as always, so he was ready for a bit of action. As long as they were careful, of course. He didn't want to hurt anyone.