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The story was a tragic one: an angel given a task met a... a Chaos, Rhodes had said. They fell in love, but their respective roles and natures doomed the union, and in the end the Chaos was killed, his corpse used to make an instrument to undo their work together.

"An unusually faithful rendition," murmured Rhodes, voice pitched low so only Sivain could hear. "It is missing some details, and there is a little embellishment, but on the whole it is accurate." There was an approving tone to his words.

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"I thought you said you weren't familiar with the legend," said Sivain.

"Yes, well, it has been some time. I find it's coming back to me." He bristled a little to have his honesty questioned, and Sivain chuckled under his breath. The song wound do a close, the crowd cheering the duo. Sivain clapped politely, and though he remained straight-faced, some of the grimness from his features had softened. The singer caught his eye again, and smiled; it seemed that she understood that they'd appreciated her work.

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They took their leave after that. They had heard what they came for, and Sivain had no wish to upset her listeners any further with his presence. There were other things to see and to do, though he was at a loss, as he generally was in these settings. It was hard not to feel Suvi's absence.

"A sad tale, to be sure," remarked Rhodes. Sivain made a sound of vague agreement. He himself was trying not to dwell upon it for too long.

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There was too much of it that reminded him of... No, he wasn't going to think about it. It was merely a story, which had happened to other people; or perhaps it hadn't happened at all, and was merely a tale dreamt up by some particularly imaginative bard. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with him.

"The Chaos was gold, then. Those figurines had it wrong," he recalled, a note of amusement slipping into his voice as he recalled how the man had boasted of them.

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"That is what the legends say, yes," said Rhodes. "The earlier versions, anyway. More and more, I find modern retellings prefer black, though I don't know if anyone knows for sure. That kind of information isn't within my realm of expertise."

"No? You seem awfully passionate about it for something you aren't interested in," said Sivain.

Rhodes laid back his ears. "I never said anything about being uninterested," he said, which might or might not have been true. Sivain couldn't remember the specifics. "It is merely not my business to know, and I don't have the time to pursue my own interests as I would like, anyhow."

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That much Sivain could admit, though it had been truer before the war. After having decided to accompany Sivain out to the field, ironically enough, Rhodes had more free time than he'd had in years. It was just that there was nothing to be done with it, given that they were at war. Rhodes was mainly concerned with things like bureaucratic matters and housekeeping.

If it wasn't for the magic he'd learned from his original master, Sivain would have sent him back. Then again, he was glad for the excuse not to. Loath as he was to admit, it would have been a lonely campaign without the cat's company.

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So he said, "We have time now. You could go to a library, if you like. I hear there are fine ones in this city, and considering they hold the festival here, I'm sure there's a wealth of information on the topic."

Rhodes looked wistful at the mention of the library, and for a moment Sivain thought he would agree. But the cat shook himself, licking idly at a paw. "That's not necessary, though I appreciate the thought. We came for the festival, and it would be a shame to miss it."

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Sivain smiled, slightly wry. "Don't hesitate on my account. You know I'm not one for festivals," he said.

Rhodes remained resolute, however. "It is just as well that you learn about the holidays of the land, if nothing else. Perhaps it will help you connect with your fellow soldiers."

At such a statement, Sivain could do nothing but laugh, a sound that startled even himself. And yet, he could not suppress it, even though he knew Rhodes didn't approve of such a reaction.

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"I'm sorry," he said, though whether he well and truly was would have been a topic of some debate. "It just sounded so... parental." The idea that anyone would be concerned about him getting on with his fellow soldiers when there was a war to fight--- when he tended to work solo as a bounty hunter anyway--- it was just so absurd.

Rhodes seemed to realize it too, which might have been why he didn't press the point. The cat merely sighed. "It was just a thought," he said.

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"I appreciate it," said Sivain, with some difficulty. "It's just..." At this point he could not help but laugh again.

Rhodes sighed again. "I'm glad the sentiment brings you so much joy," he said, "but let's leave it at that." Sivain obliged him, for it wasn't his nature to indulge in laughter for very long, or to tease. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed aloud like that.

"You know, I think you're right," Sivain said. "I am glad that I came here. Thank you for that."

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"Ah," said Rhodes, caught off guard by Sivain's words. His discomposure, in turn, made Sivain embarrassed for saying it aloud, but what was done was done. And the sentiment was still true. "Well, as I said--- it's not a bad thing to enjoy yourself every so often. The world won't punish you for that, young master." His last words were gentle, spoken softly, and it made Sivain wonder at what Rhodes knew of his thoughts, what the cat had guessed.

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But not talking about things could be a habit too. Was, in fact. Sivain merely nodded, and left it at that; the time for such a conversation, if there ever was one, was not now. He would take Rhodes' advice, and try to enjoy himself as best he could, before the festival came to a close and he had to return to the front.

... Then again, this was easier said than done. They wandered along in their aimless way, but the longer they stayed, the more it became apparent that they were drawing too much attention.

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It was any number of things. Sivain was never gifted at blending in, whether it be for his clumsiness in his youth or his height later on; back home, the godhood in his blood always told too, in ways both subtle and not. The process that had tempered that unpredictability had also, sadly, made him into the weary veteran he was now, with all the attendant problems brought on by that fact. His scars, the way he moved--- something always gave him away.

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In Foundry City, it wasn't an issue. He was a soldier. Soldiers looked like him, if they were out there long enough. Loath as he was to admit it, it was the closest to comfortable he had felt in anything like society in quite some time. But here, among the festivities and the cheerful populace, he stood out more than ever. He couldn't stop at a stall without the surrounding people taking note, or mothers ushering their children away from him. He understood the sentiment, and where it came from, but it didn't make him feel any less like a monster.

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It was maybe just as well about the stalls, considering he hadn't intended to buy anything in the first place, but it would have been nice to peruse regardless. A few of the more enterprising shopkeepers tried to engage him, but mostly they left him alone. He could read the nervousness in their gaze.

After the sixth such encounter, Rhodes sighed, and pointed out a building. "Why don't we take a look over there?" he suggested, in a tone that advised Sivain not to ignore him.