[PRP] Homecoming (Khaliq/Salbei)

[Inle-roo]

There was nothing of note as far as the eye could see, only the lazy rise and valleys of sand dunes breaking an otherwise flat horizon. This was familiar. This was home, now, and had been for years ever since Khaliq had found himself suddenly and inexplicably unable to return to the islands. He had wondered why, at first--was this punishment? Was he an exile, quietly outcast?--before he had stopped in favor of simply surviving. He was once a proud member of the Famine clan until he no longer was, and it was as simple as that. He had become a clan unto himself, the animals of the desert and the occasional wandering soul his only companions until they wandered off or perished. This drifting, this coexistence, this was life, too. He learned to live alongside his surroundings, but was never truly a part of them.

The wave of power that rippled across the desert sands made him pause and take notice. It awoke a long-dormant curiosity within Khaliq; this was not something that simply was; this was something else entirely, something at once familiar and foreign, something that spoke to him of a home that he had long since accepted was no longer his. Surely this wasn't meant for him to feel--and yet, he couldn't ignore its pull. He would investigate it, he told himself, because it was something new in this otherwise familiar land. He would follow this pull to its source and either incorporate it into his life or cut it out completely, just like everything else.

Khaliq summoned his mount and hopped on. The horse plodded along at an even pace, but that was all right. He was in no hurry.

---

It could have been hours later or it could have been days, but finally, the top of a massive, twisted spire came into view as Khaliq reached the top of a dune. A half-painted eyebrow rose at the sight. This was not a hive of Fear-created insects, and a colony of humans would not have radiated such power. Hope rose and was swiftly and viciously smothered. Even if this tower did belong to his people, it did not necessarily belong to him. He had been cast out once before, after all, and there was no guarantee that he would ever be accepted back.

Still, this curiosity was worth investigating, and if anyone had a problem with that, he was sure they would confront him directly--as they hadn't when they had cut him out in the first place. His mount disappeared in a swirl of sand as he approached the base of the tower. His threadbare slippers made a soft sound as he trailed in bits of sand, and for a moment, he was startled; it had been a long time since he had walked on anything so solid.

Surprise was obliterated, as was his hope and curiosity and the barest hints of bitterness, at the sight of the large, luridly red crystal floating in the center of the room. This was clearly the source of the power that had beckoned him from his peaceful, predictable solace. Faced with it, it became immediately overwhelming in a way that he wanted to possess for himself. He reached out a hand to touch it, distantly admiring the way the red glow lit his dusky skin.

Enoh Love

 

[Enoh Love]

Salbei hadn't been sure what to do. He had opted to stay with the Horsemen in their new home and tower, but had yet to determine if this was the proper course for him. A lot had happened, and it was a lot to digest, especially for someone who had never made a rash decision in his entire life. In his heart he knew he wanted to stray, but he simply couldn't - not yet, not without knowing all the variables.

So he tried to make sense of what was going on by simply laying low, and watching.

Which, coincidentally, was when he noticed someone rather familiar sliding into the tower. His curiousity piqued as it naturally did, and he turned his bony feet to follow them, his strides coupled with the soft ruffle of fabric and the quiet clinking from the various trinkets in his hair. He couldn't tell who it was from where he was standing; he had an idea, of course, but they were different somehow.

"You can resist, if you want." Salbei whispered as if he were afraid of being overheard, though his voice echoed through the quiet hall. "You don't have to give in to it, just yet." Though the pull was intense, he had managed - barely - to keep his distance, to avoid whatever it was that the large crystal - and Medea, by proxy - was promising.

inle-roo

 

[Inle-roo]

The quiet voice could have been a foghorn for as loudly echoed in Khaliq's ears, shaking him from his trance. Suddenly, the red light was just a red light no longer shouting at him to take it, but whispering promises if he did. He could ignore whispers, though--for now. His thinness made the stiffening of his shoulders obvious. His hand dropped once more to his side, fingers curling into a loose fist.

He was made aware, once again, that this place was foreign to him, and he had no place in it. He turned his face away from the light, peering to look over his shoulder instead. Words weren't anything he had needed to use in years, and so he had forgotten how to make them as easily as he had before--before. When he finally found his voice, it was raspy and hoarse with disuse, muffled further by the fabric that covered half his face. "Why?" The single word--what had once been the most important word in his vocabulary--echoed back, harsh and suspicious.

Enoh Love