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Xaira was really wondering what to do with herself lately. She'd been stuck on this world known as Jolaan, where the Jade Castle and its residents existed, for ... gosh, it was over ten years by this point. Yet despite all the power at her disposal as a relative master-mage of the space-time genre, and despite being able to communicate and even somehow work spells and studies with her companions back home, she had been unable to get back to the happy little wasteland she had been so unceremoniously ripped from way-back-when.
She sniffed lightly. That wouldn't be a problem for most people, she felt... but being a somewhat reclusive half-elf that didn't really care for woodlands or cities alike, and one with a bit of an attitude and an equal bit of temper to go along with it, added to her being mage in an area where people were unnecessarily touchy -- paradox-theorists were her favorite learned folks to chat with at times, despite her constant insistence that she was not a chronomancer or timeline-twister -- well, she found it hard to fathom even trying to get close to anyone on this wondrous little planet, let alone someone that she would have to convince to come back to her homeland once she could find a way back. How could she convince a mate or the like to journey with you to a place that nobody even knew existed, that she couldn't prove existed, and aside from that was constantly ripped apart by war?
A sigh escaped her lips. War, yes... meaning that she could take someone back to her homeland if it still existed by the time she was able to return. Yes, when, not if, she told herself. She would find a way back, and she would teach those pesky psionics a lesson... yet her eyes rolled and her stomach churned even with that rather tasteless thought. The whole violent matter on her homeland was pointless, it had killed far too many people, it had run on for far too long, and it was her reason for having been stuck on this mosaic of a planet. Each side thought they had their right to the existence they led, and each side thought the other had an insatiable power-trip that must be stopped at all costs. Never mind that the psionic side had been constantly trying to steal the power of Jikuu and add it to their own arsenal, which was most of the reason why the Jikuu mages were so secretive and reclusive. The power to bend time and space, to influence gravity and meddle with dimensional effects, was no small matter.
Xaira shook her head vigorously. Why was she going over this again, when the entire point of her getting out of the castle to this back-road inn was to escape it all for a bit? Her homeland almost sickeningly reminded her of the backwater tribal wars down south, and yet it had consumed her life until she wound up here.
" ... the only move would be to forge new relationships, create new memories that can be shared... somehow."
Xaira perked a pointed ear. She knew that voice... and half-elf though she be, it was easy to pluck the conversation from the low din now that she was aware of it. She carefully turned her head, spying the unmistakable long 'tail of King Amalric's black hair as he sallied up to the bar with one of his low-profile chums -- Westen, she believed. Ah, the joys of leading what amounted to being a double-life... but this was sounding interesting. She was sure the king would forgive her for listening in just a little; after all, she was teaching his son.
"... depending on how strong your desire for a little something new..." Yes, that was pretty much it, wasn't it? Study-study, teach-teach, worry-worry, all in her little office there at the castle. Even if she enjoyed it most of the time, it sounded like a self-imposed prison sentence. She keyed in on their conversation, closing her eyes and forgetting her drink.
"All I really know is that the place exists, our people have visited it, and dragon-bonding there has been going on for some time now."
Xaira's brow knit as she digested that. A dragon bond... but she was around dragon-clan folk every day at the castle. Though she knew it wasn't quite the same, she couldn't kick back the appeal that settled in her mind, right alongside the warning bells and subconscious mental panic. She had secrets to keep, people relied on her, there were countless considerations... but this was intriguing, to say the least, and she almost involuntarily turned her head toward the two. Bond to a dragon, eh...
It was about that time that Westen got up, saying he would look into it, and began to wander away. Xaira blinked, downed the rest of her drink, and quickly got up, working her way past the couple tables between her and Amalric, who was raising his hood to head back to the castle.
"Sir? Yes... yes, it's me. Could I have a quick word with you?"
It was reckless, and she'd be up all night researching it, but hang it if she was going to stay in this rut. She only hoped her potential bond could keep a secret... and that she wouldn't wind up sticking said bond in the rut she was in rather than being pulled out of it.