Enatic Clans

This time, I'm startled and baffled. Not only is he walking side-by-side, this gátes is answering with passionate fire in his tongue and playing antics with me no longer. The question is whether: he follows the stroke of his feelings, being methodical and practical, or reactive. What he answers, uttering…

"I follow the ways where proven theories and safety is always the best option to proceed." as a smile forms upon his face, "... well, you see, Lord Gervðas. Like I said, what is the definition of being moral right, aside from the examples stated a while ago?" he includes, then advancing his pace.

"If I'm gonnya add more, those would be: some tribes around the regions, in the outskirts of Rotstein, have a hedonistic lifestyle despite most of them literally scraping food out of the bottom of a barrel." he makes a good point.

While I'm looking at him, he struts his steps and proceeds to move forward. His head tilts unto me, looking at me. I return the gaze of my own. He continues to walk while matching his gaze upon me.

He initiates, bellowing: "Same sex union in Vibezorin is legal but most of the faiths argue otherwise. Ättestupa is permitted in most northern lands of Inglovia - ritually, obligation, or kinly pressure. Bandwagoning? By standard-wise-based, these are principles. Why do they do it, Lord Gervðas?" as he asks me afterwards.

"To put something on the table…" I answer with confidence.

"Exactly, how about technicalities and practical exercises? Do nyou get honor or gold in and of itself?" he inquires about my opinion for the second time.

"Yes… to both or either of the former or latter. Art itself is the mother of all science. When ripens, it becomes a bible whatsoever. And then, bible evolves to whatever highest form of knowledge an überleben can reach to imagine." I yet again put my mouth to where my boot is, from the very get-go - this philosophical warfare is exhilarating.

"Alright, then…" as he stops, "Being romantic chooses where entertaining with style over winning. Can it fill someone's belly despite being defeated? Yes… What transpires is both winning the fight and entertaining everybody makes someone's gold. Emotions oozing - that is what the audience wants to see or to feel. Most people will choose winning, of course, however." he follows, shrugging his shoulders.

"Likewise, Sir Talbetter." I cast a smile painting my lips.

My lips curl into a wry smile as the echoes of our banter mingle with the muted cadence of the cobblestones beneath our feet. The square, caught in the golden afterglow of a waning sun, seems to pause in anticipation of our exchange. Sir Talbetter's eyes glisten with the fervor of a man who has wrestled with both doctrine and desire. He, ever the firebrand, continues.

"Indeed, milord," he declares with a hint of mischief and earnest conviction, "... what is a victory if not savored in its complexity? The soul, like the blade in battle, must be tempered with both reason and passion. I daresay that a life lived solely by numbers and certainty is as barren as a winter field."

"Or you can say: 'As desolate as a scorching desert with no oases to be found.' Is it?" I add, that makes him ponder for a long ten seconds.

As he gazes behind - towards me, "Caught me there, actually." he returns the laughter of mine.

I tilt my head slightly, reintroducing: "Yet, Sir Talbetter, is not the allure of safety the very foundation upon which our hopes rest? A miscalculation may be the price of passion, but reckless abandon often leaves us bereft of tomorrow's promise." in the end, I am connecting what he had said the prior.

"I concur, milord… Mistakes occur in mysterious ways whether for the breakthrough or a literal 'mistake'. It doesn't matter if it is a hit or miss. Afterall, fortune favors the brave." both his tail and ears perk up, while he bops his head.

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"Sure, Sir Talbetter. Sure." the quote 'fortune favors the brave' instills in me.

As we enter the inner gate of the castle, the 'Aisla boys' salute us. In return, I nod my head to reply to the gesture. Some of the soldiers flock over to Sir Talbetter himself. As I overhear the conversation, mentioning the lifeforce and arcane theories about yesterday or so. For that, these soldiers look forward to their next session with Sir Talbetter. A big lead of heads up. A homework for the betterment of the kingdom of Kehina.

Sir Talbetter catches up to me, crying: "Apologies about that, Lord Gervðas. Commotions are everywhere, whenever I go. Or is it that Kehina does not have denizens aside from humans and Kehinan women?" whereas he stops in front of me.

"Orcs, dwarves, elves, vampires, succubi? Fret not, my dear guest friend. Kehinans are not xenophobic, we are amiable. It has been once in a while that we meet foreigners, per se." I tap his shoulder, as we tread afterwards.

He reasons, imprinting: "Nyactually, let me tell you some Alcanzantré backlore and stuff - cats hate water, right? But my kind, gátes, stands the opposite. You wonder to know why, milord? It is because, regardless of the fact that my race is of the feline aesthetic, I still speak überleben tongue. Well, besides only Meow, Meow or Nya~, Nya~..." quite well, as he jokes about his own blood kins.

"Damn, going back to the previous discussion. Eating leftovers or trash helps you live but it loses your dignity. Which decision is worse, Lord Gervðas?" as he resumes making statements.

"Dying, of course. Well, for me, living is way better than sticking headstrong." as I plant my hand on my waist, sincerely declare, on a serious note.

"True. Eating rubbish is practicality, it's free to say the least. While upholding one's self-respect is important, but it can be a double-edged sword. Betrayal is practicalities, loyalty is principle, and ego is romantic - when emotions get involved, practicality and principle don't seek feelings. Just RESULTS. Only." he breathes, "Either stick to your self-righteous dogma or grovel." he reiterates both the argument of mine and his.

Sir Talbetter and I are about this close towards the destination. I invite him to my personal chamber as I am raring to go for another round of talk with him. During entering, no sound is made. I open the door ajar. He retreats to the window while he is basking to the breeze of the frisky prelude of monsoon. It is the rainy season this month - Kehina has the most tamed typhoons and lenient tornadoes in the world. Yet, as a matter of fact, it is pouring late in this season.

"Sir Talbetter…" I summon his attention.

"Nyes, milord?" he tilts his head, his tail is continuously wagging.

"So what is the reason why überleben are so disparate from unterleben - anthromorphs, alwuhush, and animals?" he asks, anchoring his left elbow on the windowpane.

"Überleben have reasons, emotions, and instincts. We reason to make society as lawful and tranquil as possible. We have instincts to calculate situations and muster experience based on our impulse. We feel the connection of others to reciprocate - no man is an island, afterall." I declare, while I am gladly rectifying his process of thoughts.

"Yeah, I have heard this a long time ago. It is from one of the barber-surgeons in Alcanzantré and he said: 'It's okay to have no friends at all but it's unhealthy to have no imaginary friends.' I realized that up until as of lately that it hits home." he replies with a spunky and hard-hitting response. I agree with Sir Talbetter's statement.

"What is that? Imaginary friends are supposed to be self-manifestations, aren't they? If you don't have one, does it mean that the world forlorns you? Am I getting it correctly?" I guess and analyze behind his words, which is one of the very low blow excerpts I have ever heard.

"Hahaha…" as he rolls over, bursting out of laughter then he constantly slaps his knee. I take his reaction as a: yes.

He adds while he is still on the pavement, "You know what, Lord Gervðas?" as he poses in a feline stretching position.

"Tell me…" I challenge him, reeling for another type of his antics.

"Romanticism is best favored when the artists are dead. Such an unfortunate fate. I mean, why do illustrators, artists, and troubadours still do such deeds albeit it doesn't pay?" as Sir Talbetter rises from the ground, his face shifts nonchalant.

"Passion?" I answer him with no distinctive or rather baseless statement.

He stands and then shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know. Thus, that's why I'm asking in the first place." that response makes my left eyebrow twitch.

"Afterall, inventions are to be lambasted while traditionalists strive to keep relevance using the old methods…" he resumes, inadvertently stealing my words as I realize.

I protest, "Hey, cease stealing my work." about infringing on my hard work labor.

"Is it? I wonder why your proselytization reaches in my hometown city…"