Liars (Lake Baikal | Siberia)

[Thalia]

Oh, she was beautifully regal, every movement infused as if with the elegant flow of dance. It was an unusual symphony of grace to behold in so natural a form, and utterly beguiling. Thalia watched as the light enveloped and the threads entwined into the sketch draped over her knee, coaxing out the moisture. It had never even occurred to her that such a thing was possible, and she itched to touch a light finger to that watery bubble as it arced its way back to the lake’s embrace. She refrained though, not wanting to tread on the allure of the moment.

“Not by a woman?” The question was idle, half recalling how she felt nothing at all when Nox used his power. Nor, she realised suddenly, did he resonate with the same sense of kinship that would have marked him for a channeler. “You know you glow when you do that,” she added. A smile warmed. There was a formality to the gesture and words, a different kind to the rigid distance of Noctua’s habit, yet no less a ritual.

“Kemala,” she repeated pleasantly. “It’s nice to meet you too.” She was not sure what to do with that sense of reverence, nor how to offer it back (was she supposed to offer it back?). Curiosity lit her expression. “You’re headed to Moscow? That’s where I live these days. Not originally, but I’ve been there quite a few years now. It’s where my studio is.” She tapped the sketch on her knee, by way of explanation, but did not linger. “What takes you there? You can have my number if you like. I don’t know when I’ll be home again, but it’s the sort of city where it can be nice to know a familiar face. Are you staying at the lake for long?” Then, trailing a finger along her own arm in demonstration, she added. "These are beautiful, by the way."