Welcome to Gaia! ::

Selael examined the puppeteer for a few moments... A rather unusual character, though he so far appeared to be no threat. Another storyteller on the street trying to make a living, and it seemed like he was doing quite a job of it. His control over the puppets was rather exemplary, a display of dexterity that he had seldom seen in any people... After the introduction, he then started to attract the attention of Selael as he seemed to be glancing at his tome of Adenese history...

Selael held up the History tome, the large book seeming to steal attention from the other volume held around his body by a chain... It appeared that this tome was more important, however... The other volume contained that which was truly a secret passed down through the generations: the spells, duties and disciplines of the Shalehem Line. However, as far as the others were concerned, the History tome was the more important of the two. He remained silent as he held up the tome though, not sure if he should flip through to a section of the history of Aden... Perhaps only if he were asked to do so.

Selael turned over to Hoata and nodded slowly in response to her question. "Yes, I do know a great deal of the legend of the Phoenix Feather, and of the first King, among many other... Stranger tales." He opened up the book and flipped through it. "However... I can tell you about those legends myself." He flipped through the tome and reached the beginning of the book, and consequently, the beginning of Aden. He looked back up and started reading from it.

"A long time ago, there was a man who wandered the desert with a small group of friends and relatives... One day, he found a feather in the sands that fell from a Phoenix, whose down was radiant and the color of Fire. From that point, the party he was with decided to set up a village in the desert after finding a nearby spring... From that point, good fortune lined everything this man did... He found springs of water, sources of building material, food sources, and all the trappings of a civilization... In recognition of his grand works, he was named the first King of Aden.

"As for the Phoenix feather... It is said that the true one is able to grant its owner unbelievable power. Grand power over fire and life, and the power to easily level most cities as well as generally granting good fortune... However, because of this massive amount of power, the first King commissioned a family to guard the Feather that was hidden so long ago, to prevent a catastrophe being brought about by the very feather that brought the country to its birth. Not much is known about this family, other than their names are spoken in whispers in the criminal Underworld and all of those who pursue the Feather meet a grisly fate at the hands of this clan of Guardians..." This was true, of course... He was the one who brought about that grisly fate. "Of course, not all of this family is made of people who wantonly kill those who pursue the feather's power... Some of them attempted diplomatic and peaceful resolutions to these conflicts... But, that's another story for another time." He certainly wasn't one of those peaceable guardians... He was every bit the avatar of terror in the underworld that many of his ancestors were, perhaps even more... He couldn't help but muse at the irony of him telling this tale in the way he did...

Selael, for the first time in a very long time, felt something... Guilt. Remorse. It occurred to him that he was really a monster... The monsters that lurk in the dark to deter the greedy and unwise... Though he quickly concealed his guilt, looking over at Hoata. "Most people believe that the Feather's power is very, very real... And it does have the power to create such catastrophes. There is one tale in which the feather was used by a corrupt court of Nobles to overthrow the King, only for the Guardians to destroy the Nobles and re-establish the King's rule. But you're right... No one would want to run into these Guardians, regardless of who they are..." He closed the book and looked off.

"These Guardians, if they still exist, probably know something that most people don't know... Although, perhaps the Feather is a myth, or a front to cover up something worse, or even just a bedtime story for the children of this nation to be proud of who they are... Who knows." It then occurred to him that, if people doubted the feather's existence... Perhaps fewer thieves would go after it. Although it was far too late for that now, in this generation, people knew the feather was real... They knew it existed, and they knew it was powerful. But, perhaps in generations when people become less aware and more detached from the legends as they become myths, fantasies to keep alive a desert rose...

Of course, the truth is far more terrifying. "The Legend is strong enough, though, that it keeps everyone here. Everyone is proud to be Adenese, to be in the Land of the Phoenix, and in the end, it's all they need to be happy." His obfuscation of the truth would, at least, keep Hoata from becoming one of his victims... He couldn't explain it, but for some reason, he did not want to have to kill her...

Selael nodded slowly, seeming... Unexpectedly... Reassured by the remarks of a stranger... Perhaps his role in the world truly was necessary. However, he'd best not get ahead of himself... He could introduce himself by only his first name. If he gave his last name, she might figure out he's one of those Guardians... That might prove to be problematic later on if she knew just who he was in the dead of the night...

"I'm called Selael. A pleasure, miss Hoata." He bowed slightly, his crimson hair falling down his shoulders and his dull, golden eyes giving off the slightest hint of life, and perhaps even pleasure... He could almost say he enjoyed her company, though probably wouldn't, almost expecting the ghostly shadow of his father to pop up and laugh at him in that "I-told-you-so" manner that was so irritating. Of course, perhaps feeling for someone else wasn't all that bad... "Well, I Think I can find us an inn, if you'll follow me." He hobbled about, leaning on his staff to carry him toward the inn, the first time he had a genuine, benign enjoyment of other human beings shining in his eyes...

Selael held up his hand, gesturing to the distance. "The trick to finding the inns around here is that they're actually near the residential parts of the city... Most people have their inns in the more metropolitan areas, but I suppose Aden's odd like that." He began hobbling toward the residential district, leading Hoata and the Puppeteer toward one of the inns. The chains began jingling as he walked down the sand path, seeming to have a different tone about him... He was far friendlier than he usually was, and for some reason he felt comfortable around people for the first time in a long time...

Of course, things are always subject to sudden, violent change... He'd best not get his hopes up.

Selael looked back at Antares as he made his remarks about whether or not this discussion was being intruded upon. He shook his head slowly. "No, you are not intruding on anything particularly secret or delicate..." He opened up the door to the inn and hobbled inside... The bottom floor appeared to be rather busy, though most of the people there appeared to be Adenese, not guests of the inn... Although, the waitstaff appeared to be particularly busy, serving tables with plates of what foreigners would consider rather exotic and unusual food and drink. He approached the counter, nodding at the innkeeper, the innkeeper nodding back and looking behind him.

"Do you have any vacancies here?" The innkeeper nodded enthusiastically, although to the more perceptive, one could almost detect the slightest hint of fear in the eyes of the keeper... "Yes, as a matter of fact... Although I'd have to go prepare a room, but until then, feel free to take a seat and order something to eat." Selael nodded in approval and thanked the innkeeper, leading the Puppeteer and the Dancer to a table for four, taking a seat on the chair with its back to the wall. He set his staff aside, though the tomes still hung by their chains off the sides of his body. There appeared to be four menus already set up on the table, each one a fine, sturdy parchment with the items hand-written in fountain pen, the tiny spots of ink on some of the words the telltale sign of hand-done craftsmanship. Selael picked one up and perused through it, holding out one hand, as though inviting them to do the same.