Last night had been . . . something. They laughed, they cried, they cringed, and somehow they... consummated. He still wasn't sure how all of those previous things ended up in that latter thing, but he'd get there eventually. Something about a really, really comfortable hug. Damn. He winced; his butt hurt. Well, it wasn't like it hurt... it just... felt a little bit --
His thoughts were interrupted, as the other man wrapped his arms around him, the two of them making contact and keeping it; they were inseparable since they'd first made contact the night before, and somehow, that felt right. It didn't feel suffocating or burdensome, it just felt good. He melted into the Lothar's embrace, and as the other man's eyes closed shut once more, so too did his.
- - -
After fully awaking, the two of them set out to the top of a hill just northeast of Sabaissant. As if it weren't cold enough, the mage had determined it would be suitable for them to go out and experience it firsthand, without any insulation, people or buildings to retreat to. In truth, it wasn't like it mattered. With Rupturing at one's disposal, there was no reason to fear something like this. If it had gotten too cold to bear, they could just teleport back, easily. And, really, he knew they'd need a secluded place. If anyone walked in on the initiation and disturbed them, they could both die, unable to find their way back to their body. No one would come out here in the middle of Cylus, so this was the ideal location.
Plus, the view of the stars wasn't too shabby.
Why out here? the man finally asked, with the mage looking back, a silly jeer on his lips, as if to ask: problem? But, as that wasn't really his character, he decided to give the man a decent explanation as to why he'd chosen the outdoors. He had to admit, even just opening his mouth, he felt his jaw shivering. The man moved closer to Fridgar for good measure, trying to siphon some of that body heat, if he could. "Because it's open, and we can see the stars. And no one will bother us," he noted, looking around as if to illustrate just how few people were outside of the city. No one. In fact, looking down at the city from here, he could scarcely see anyone in the city. Everyone had retreated to their homes -- that'd been the standard every Cylus of every arc. No one in Venora was truly ever ready for Cylus, as the other seasons had all been so warm, at least comparatively to everywhere else.
"The initiation... well," he sighed. It was a lot to explain. "Essentially, I draw energy to the outline of your body, and with Rupturing, I bring that energy directly into your system. Your body and spark will reply... strongly, with the energy sparking a physical reaction that forces the initiation to trigger. At this point, our sparks merge by our mutual will, and the joining of our two sparks causes for our minds to become untethered; completely free, with no physical limitations or boundaries. This is the magical moment that is the initiation for Rupturing. It's something akin to becoming one with the universe, if only for a short time, fully capable of wading through all that surrounds us." He doubted that explanation meant much, though. Very few people really understood the initiation until they actually went through it.
"It... helps us to find humility, realizing how small we all are," he added, looking up to the sky. He could see the sun in full eclipse -- while it had snowed this morning, it was mostly clear right now, which was both a good and a bad thing. The heat wasn't held in, but at least they could see above them. That was important in setting up the mood.
As for the danger . . . well. "This initiation is one of the few that results in instantaneous death if you fail, but you don't have to take the risk at all. You can keep your conscious within the confines of your body, not exploring anything. You'll live, but you won't have the experience behind you. I personally recommend taking the risk, especially considering you have me. You'll know where I am -- you'll be able to feel me, like I'm a part of you. If you can't find your way back to your body, just go to where you feel my presence, and you'll be safe." He nodded his head. Bringing that forward, he decided this was a good time to be completely transparent.
"That link where you're capable of feeling my presence and location will never go away, by the way. Accompanied with a familial bond of sorts, we will always have a desire to be close to one another, and we'll know exactly where the other is. That's the bond that the master and apprentice share in Rupturing. If you don't want me to be able to sneak up on you at my discretion, then speak now, and we can hold off the initiation. Otherwise, you and I are stuck together, for the long haul."
Absorbing the rest of what Fridgar said, Alistair listened intently, not breaking eye contact or showing any sign of disrespect. He understood the man's insecurity about his intellect, as it was commonly held, especially by those who viewed themselves as intellectually deprived, or brutish. And, surely, that had to be the case with him - Fridgar was exceptionally instinctual, but relied little on the more learned methods of functioning. He applied only his gut feeling to a great deal of his life, though his cognitive functions weren't lacking. Alistair knew that he wasn't "too dumb" to Rupture. He was just doubting himself.
He couldn't speak the order of the seasons? So what? He could live them, and know them, and could probably survive them better than almost anyone. Fridgar had an intellect that others didn't.
"Fridbear," he referred to him, affectionately, "you're not dumb. There's no shame in not knowing something like that." He shook his head, and gestured for the man to sit down with him. Lowering himself, Alistair curled his legs together, arms resting against his lap. "Everyone learns differently. I'm willing to bet that you haven't had anyone try, genuinely, to teach you these things in a way you'd understand. Why don't I try teaching you the order? If you can't remember after this, then sure, we can say you're not capable of learning. But I know you are."
They just... needed something that would stick. What did Fridgar care about? Animals. That was an obvious one. How could they weave fauna into the seasons? Well, they'd have to try, even if they had to resort to alliterations and anagrams. The man moved closer to Fridgar, presenting himself for the man to sniffle and cry onto if he needed it. But he wouldn't.
"Think animal Kingdom, alright? Hell, think bestiary, too." Without further ado... came Alistair's horrible, barely rhyming, just-made-up-right-now... seasonal animal poem. Thing. The things he did for Fridgar. "Cylus comes first, black as the crow. Ashan follows suit, albatross soaring, the sun melting all of the snow. With Ymiden comes a new dawn, yellowjacket bees buzzing on. Not to rhyme too hard, but then comes Saun, the swan." He actually started laughing at that one. "Okay, okay, moving on," he rhymed again, smirking at Fridgar, "Vhalar's, of course, the season of the viper - because they're both vhalar-ous."
. . .
"And finally, zi'da's the bloody zebra. Alright, that whole thing was embarrassing, but hey, you do what you've gotta."