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(What was her wyld hunt?)

Canach barely noticed the little looks he kept giving her. It was a mystery, waved tauntingly in front of his nose and that kept wandering away every time he attempted to grasp it. Or the people wandered away every time he questioned about it. Replies ranged from 'it was hard' to 'something to do with the corruption' which he translated into 'why don't you ask her instead of annoying us?'

(Thanks, charr.

…

What in the world was it?)

He knew she had one, like every other born of the Pale Tree. He knew she hadn't turned from it because she was obstinately stubborn, moronically driven and periodically drawn towards the Grove, something the Soundless refused to do. He knew it had been related to the Elder Dragons because of course it would. No one else would throw itself into this kind of life without a proper reason. To do otherwise was for madmen and she, while occasionally ridiculous, was exceedingly grounded. No pun intended. He also knew it had been as impossible to finish as Trehearne's or Caithe's. Just what exactly was it? What had the dream given to her that would bring all the way to the other corner of the world?

"All right, what have you speaking about on my back?"

His carefully constructed brooding crashed and burned into the ground, pushing him from the relative safety of his mind into the reality. Reality consisted in a purple eyed Commander, complete with a dark frown and a twitch over her eyebrow which spelled annoyance.

They were alone, a good ten steps from where the last member of the group had disappeared. Synthaer, on the other hand, had stopped in the middle of the path, one hand smack against his chest to keep him from continuing his mindless stroll.

"What?"

(Mindless indeed. If he kept this up, he'd end up just as eloquent as the norn).

"You. Talking. Everyone," she enunciated slowly as if he was particularly dull. "Rytlock noticed. I noticed. The merchant from the last village noticed. Are you going to tell me what's going on or should I make assumptions? Like you are planning on running away again? Steal Rytlock's sword? You're interested in Marjory and wanted to make sure Kas wouldn't portal drop you into a clif—"

"Your wyld hunt!" (Mother, why would she assume he was a mind-numbing gossip like half of this group? Surely he hadn't been that out of it!) "I was just curious about your wyld hunt. You never speak about it."

Confusion slowly whispered through her expression.

"Why didn't you ask me?" (Because that'd be logical?) "I mean, no one should expect Taimi to know. She thinks the Dream is a collective hallucination caused by some sort of unexpected nature phenomenon and that shouldn't have such hold on a community."

Apparently only for the Commander was normal to ask what she had dreamed during her gestation and what the aim of her life at birth. He couldn't remember if everyone shared it (it had been that long, it seemed) but his own was silent, finished and forgotten, cautiously put aside with his memories of the Grove and the animalistic cage he had been thrown into as a sapling.

"Wait." Little lines which had formed on her forehead during her rant slowly faded, giving origin to one of her customary smiles (which appeared far too much for someone with that sort of purpose in life). "You do think that. For you it's ruder to ask me rather than ask everyone else around me. That's… well, special."

That special didn't sound like a compliment.

"I'm sorry for respecting your privacy, Commander."

"Except you kinda didn't," she retorted, annoyingly sensibly. "You gossiped with everyone else on my back."

Flawless logic, that one.

"It was just the Asura."

Possibly the norn. And the noblewoman, she was terribly chirpy and liked to gossip. That was also possibly the most ridiculous excuse he had ever formulated ever since leaving the tree.

The Commander clearly agreed. Her lips trembled lightly, that way she had to try and control herself in front of someone else (the queen, her soldiers, her mother) before she laughed herself until tears appeared in her eyes. She had a way to allow herself that. To feel joy. To be happy, even though the world around her was clearly going up in flames. How she managed, he clearly didn't understand. Her half smile grew, even as Synthaer contemplated her reply.

"My wyld hunt was to Kill Zaithan," she said, unveiling her secret (which hadn't been one to begin with, it seemed. If only he had asked directly instead of losing his time.) "That was my task. I had to kill it. Not just help or support. I had to personally be invested in its destruction."

Spoken as if it was nothing, as if it wasn't a death sentence (which she had survived, reminded his damned annoying logic, which it had spared her). Damn that tree. Damn the tree and its thrice damned Dream.

"How can you still follow her after all of this?"

(There was no other her in their lives).

That question slipped without his awareness. Had that been his purpose all the way? To know how this woman bend her knee, how she accepted their shackles and leash, how she followed without question where he couldn't and didn't dare to try?

Again, there was no hesitation. No fear, no disgust; just a half-smile without explanation.

"Mother is… well, a mother, Canach." The Commander shrugged after that particularly enlightening piece of intelligence. "She always wanted what was best for us. The problem is that the only way she found to do that was to show us a way to walk right as we got out. That's silly. We didn't get to experiment. We don't get to stumble like all the humans do. Do you think Kas thought she'd be here as a child? Of course not," she replied without giving him time to speak. "She thought she'd marry and have kids and live in luxury because that was the universe she could see. Mother didn't want us to be lost but in her wish, she closed us off. She didn't let us see if the fire would burn. She forced the knowledge into our minds and stifled the urge to check."

During the whole tirade, Synthaer never stopped, moving from one side to another, hands rising and falling to underline her points.

"You're defending her and attacking her at the same time, Commander. Take a moment to analyze how stupid that is."

(And not replying to my question. Not replying.)

Her hands stilled, shoulders slumped in apparent defeat.

"I'm not attacking her. I'm saying that the moment I knew she would have me attempt to kill an elder dragon, I was so scared I couldn't breathe." The confession came out abruptly, fingers tentatively touching a barely healed wound, flirting with a truth she didn't wish to be seen. Canach opened his mouth to comment and then closed it without a word being said. What could he said that would show how much he empathized?

Her eyes searched for him and her smile returned, full, wide, loving. "But the second she looked at my face," Synthaer continued gently. "The second she held me, I understood she was crying for me too." The Commander shrugged. "I love her for that."

And so do you, he could imagine her saying, beneath that lavender gaze, I know you do.

Maybe. Maybe, she was right.

Though, her words probably made his path in life nothing more than adolescent rebellion against his mother's choices.

(Lovely.

Why in the world did he still speak with the Commander?)