There wasn't much in the literature about Startouch elves. Viren would have known; he spent countless afternoons devouring books and texts in the library back when he was the high mage of Katolis. Startouch elves had always intrigued him. He wondered what it would be like to have that kind of uninhibited, pure, raw power. It enticed him...but it also scared him.
There wasn't much in the literature about Startouch elves. A lone page or two tucked in between chapters and volumes of history. But those brief pages would all mostly contain the same thing: blue/black skin, white star-like freckles, pin-straight white hair, elf-like features on the whole, unlimited power, lives among the stars, etc. Not once did those pages say anything about charisma. Wit. A twinkle in their eyes. A playfulness, mischief on their lips. A voice like velvet and sex. Viren assessed this and came to the conclusion that this was likely due to one of three likely reasons.
1) People have not grown close enough with a Star-touch elf to discover such qualities.
2) These qualities may pertain solely to Aaravos.
3) These qualities may be entirely originated from Viren's perception of Aaravos which may not be reflective or indicative of reality.
The first of those reasons was the only one that Viren could reconcile with so he willed himself to believe it was so. Nevertheless, he looked on as Aaravos stared at him with a concealed sense of longing, words on his lips that could never emerge without interference from his mind and other prisons. His stomach churned.
"You could be anywhere in the world. You could observe the seas, the Sun kingdom, you could take a peek at your captors. Why are you here? In another prison?"
I feel free here.
Viren could not piece together what that meant. "This is quite literally the opposite of freedom, Aaravos."
You're here aren't you?
"I don't follow."
You choose to be here. You could break out at anytime. Yet this is a prison you choose to sit in. Same here.
Aaravos wanted to add on the fact that being with Viren made him feel...feel...liberated, but he did not want to overstep the lines that they had drawn.
"I give up on trying to understand you. Crazy can't be reasoned with."
Perhaps Aaravos was crazy. This was something he didn't really consider. Aaravos' mind spun. Perhaps he was really truly crazy, out of his mind, broken and lost because of Viren. But did it matter. Crazy or not, all he was left with was his fractured mind, the fire, the mirror, and the lingering scent of the blood of his child.
Claudia is still asleep.
"Oh."
She talks in her sleep, too.
"I know. Once when she was five, she took a nap in the royal garden and when I finally found her she just said 'peanut butter' over and over again in her sleep."
She called out your name. Viren froze.
"What did she say?"
I'll save you, dad. I promise. Anything for family.
Viren stared at the ground, biting the inside of cheek strong enough to draw blood. He willed himself to not cry.
She loves you.
"I know. But I've done her wrong....I led her down the wrong path. Now she's-" Viren stifled a sob, a lone streak of blood dripped out of his mouth into the paper in his hand.
Aaravos got up and sat in front of Viren. He cupped Viren's face in his hands. Viren shuddered. He didn't feel anything, but perhaps via some sort of placebo effect, he could barely trace Aaravos' cold nimble fingers on him. Aaravos peered into Viren's mouth. From the way Aaravos looked at him, he could tell he was being instructed to keep his mouth open for him. What an awkward position. It had only then occured to Viren just how odd it must have been for the guards to see him constantly mumbling and speaking to himself. He must have appeared crazy.
Aaravos pulled away and a piece of paper appeared in his hand.
Don't bite yourself like that. You could die.
"Aaravos, that would be the tongue. You could die from biting your to-"
The tongue is never far from the cheek. After all the effort I put in to save you, don't let it go to vain.
"It's not like I asked you to anyway," Viren hissed. Aaravos grew impatient.
Remember that I have power. I could fashion a much more restrictive prison, tie your hands and legs, keep your mouth open so you know not how to bite.
"Okay well how would I eat? Didn't think of that did you? Your oppressive hands would kill me in the end, anyhow." Aaravos sat quietly, angrily eyeing Viren's tattered up shoes. "I appreciate that you worry for me, even though I don't know where it comes from. Not a lot of people remain that care for me."
Startouch elves don't care about anyone other than themselves.
"I'm sure that isn't true. What about your mother, Aaravos, she'd cry hearing you say that."
Startouch elves don't reproduce the same way you mortals do. I don't believe I have a mother. A couple millenia ago, I happened upon the world.
"Imagine describing your birthday as a time you 'happened upon the world.' The lives of Startouch elves seem so devoid of magic. Ironic."
Yet, the lives of humans are so compact with luster.
"Indeed it is. Life is littered with irony. Isn't it funny that you are a Fallen Star stripped of your own power and I am a powerless human whose life mission has been to claw at power that isn't mine?"
You derive humor from odd places. But I agree.
"Actually, humans have a tradition. If they see a star fall, they make a wish and it's said to come true. Can I make a wish on you?"
But I've already fallen.
"Well by the time people think of the wish and let it echo through their minds, the star is usually gone anyway. We're not exactly the quintessence of speed, humans."
Go for it.
Viren closed his eyes and wished for Claudia. For her to wake up and forgive him.
He wished for Soren to look his way once more.
He wished to go to the afterlife and hug King Harrow, his friend, again.
He wished to meet Aaravos and brush his hand through his silken hair. Or at least, he'd imagined it'd feel like silk. Overwhelming desires bubbled up and spilled out of his chest filling him with feelings of longing and excitement. He saw what he yearned for in the backs of his eyelids almost as a reel of a very beautiful movie. It was as if he could touch it. He wanted to touch it.
Viren softly raised his hand up, his eyes still shut, and he reached for the man in his mind. The indigo skinned elf in his head, in his palms. He jolted when he felt that his hand had actually touched a warm, supple substance. His eyes shot open and before him was Aaravos.
"What did you do?" Aaravos whispered breathlessly, amazed at the fact that he was no longer surrounded by books or ash or furniture. Just the dusty musk of the Katolis prison. Viren thought.
"I...I have pondered what it would mean to channel the Startouch arcanum. But I guess no one can really possess its powers other than the elves. We can simply wish upon it and request for a single touch of its powers, just a touch, and it can come true. If you really honed in on it," Viren muttered.
"And you wished...for me," Aaravos' deep voice penetrated the air like a warm knife cutting through butter, smooth, as if it glided. Aaravos took Viren's face in his hands, his eyes fixed on Viren's. Viren was frozen, he couldn't move. Aaravos rubbed his thumb on his cheek admiring his soft skin, his slight stubble biting back. He knelt to press his nose against Viren's neck and took in a deep breath. "You don't smell like cow shit or fungi, Viren. You smell like trees. It's rather nice." Aaravos' hands began to shake. A lone blue tear fell down his cheek. "I haven't smelled trees in...I don't even know how long, Viren."
Viren clasped Aaravos' body in his arms. A warmth spread through Aaravos unlike anything he'd ever felt.
"Welcome back, Aaravos."