Facade

Pacing around each other the two actors seemed to be doing more than acting out their parts in a rehearsal. Bearn, the elder one with his quiet calm and the serious dedication he put in every role he played had not yet played with Tatar, the latest favourite of the public who brought life to plays with his youthful exuberance. Neither of them understood the other. They clashed on and offstage. Bringing even more realism into the ancient story of love and betrayal. There seemed to be electricity in the air, sparkling between the two men. The air around them seemed to not allow others inside.
The rehearsal ended and everyone returned to reality, though the rivalry between the two men lingered for a bit. Bearn turned away, forcing himself to calm down before he headed to get changed. Was it jealousy? he wondered. He was older yes, but he was far from being at the end of his career. He should not feel threatened by Tatar's youth. No, what irritated him most was the younger man's lack of talent. The nonchalance with which he acted out the roles. Sure his eyes sparkled, but the sparkle was the same no matter if he portrayed joy, anger, passion or grief. There was promise in Tatar, but the younger man did not seem to want to polish his talent the way he enjoyed the night life. Tired and frustrated Bearn sat in a chair, trying to make his mind focus on a book he was reading.
Tatar, meanwhile was making no effort at all to cool down. He let the anger run rampant inside him. His sharp tongue did not leave a shred of Bearn untouched. Snide remarks passed his lips, making his friends laugh. He did not understand Bearn, what was he doing wrong to get the more experienced man's disapproval? He had the public eating out of his hand, everyone raved about how much they loved his acting. They liked him more than the stuffy old man for sure. Maybe it was jealousy. Though he wanted to believe that explanation, Tatar wasn't egoistical enough to think Bearn was that unprofessional. There had to be something else. But what? His anger flared up again and Tatar flung out his arm in rebellion.
"Let's go drinking until dawn!" he called, getting cheers in reply.
Maybe drinks and the attention of a young woman might bring back his sense of calm confidence. Why was it that he disliked Bearn anyway? He'd once admired the man...

The next morning came soon for Tatar who'd been out until the early hours. The girl beside him had indeed helped him divert his attention, but now with the buzz of the alcohol gone his anger felt as hot as it had been the night before. With a bad mood and the knowledge that today would not be different from yesterday, Tatar rose from his bed and readied himself for rehearsal.
Bearn had been awake for some time, practicing his voice and expressions. The frustration of the night before had not abided. He was still stumped about Tatar. His dislike of the man seemed to go further than just a waste of talent. Could his dislike of the man be a direct consequence of his inability to understand him? Was he maybe scared to let those feelings inside him? He who'd played the role of king as well as murderer. How could he be afraid of a man who was a drunk and a womanizer? Or was he afraid of the fact that such a man could be loved by the masses for more than a year? How could such a man hold their attention? How could it be that such a man, such an absolutely worthless man... quietly Bearn sat down. This was more than just about Tatar, this went deeper. Deeper than he ever thought his mind would go, to a wound in himself that he'd long thought healed.
Tatar strode inside the theatre only to find the source of his anger already there on stage. Practicing the dialogue. Not only Bearn's role, but every single part was played out. Tatar waited for a moment, feeling a twinge of admiration before anger closed off his mind. Suddenly Bearn sat down, clearly confused.
"I see you've perfected your lost look." Tatar called, making his voice loud enough to fill the hall.
Bearn looked up with a strange look in his eyes. Sadness maybe, anger, but also fear was reflected in them, but Tatar was too far away to notice.
"So you've come to rehearse?" Bearn asked, his voice restrained and calm, driving Tatar's anger even further.
"Yes, I do rehearse." he said, adding "Unlike what you might think."
Bearn, hurt with the remark that now did not sound so unjust to him got up and started walking, trying to leave the theatre. he needed to think this through, needed to make amends."
"Don't let my presence bother you." Tatar called.
"I'm not bothered." Bearn said, "No I am, but it has nothing to do with you."
"I see, I don't even mean anything to you. I should have known. My presence is insignificant to you."
"It isn't like that..." Bearn said, the anger of the other man pulling at his own, "I'm doing it for the good..."
"For my own good?"
"No for mine!" Bearn growled.
Knowing full well that Bearn was near exploding Tatar continued anyway."
"I know I'm not from a good family like you. And I know that I'm not as good as you." Tatar felt hurt admitting this, but it was the truth anyway, "But you know, I'm still sought out, people love me more than they love you. And that's because I'm more like them, flawed and flailing to get what they want."
"Yet you want to throw it all away! You want to go out and have fun for as long as it lasts, but let me tell you, it won't last long. You'll burn up sooner than later, drunken and broken by the side of the road, dead and forgotten, crushed by your own foolishness."
"Then at least I lived!" Tatar replied angrily, who was he to lecture him?
"No you wouldn't." A truly painful look was on Bearn's face and now there was no looking past it.
"I'm not some boy you need to take by the hand." he spat, "I'm fully capable of taking care of myself."
"So was she." Bearn whispered so the other man could not hear it.
"I know." he said louder, "I know..."
"Then leave me alone!" Tatar shouted, "this argument is over."
But before he could turn around and leave the theatre, two hands clapped. A man strode into the light from the darkness where the audience would normally be. He word the outfit of a knight, sturdy clothes for a man who looked like he knew how to stand his own.
"I like your passion." he smiled, "But I'll have to interrupt your fight for a question."
The two men gazed at the judge for Descas and wondered what he wanted. Normally knights did not have time to come watch the play, though the castle was invited each time.
"I'll go ahead then, it seems my drak has seen you two and she is certain you shall do well at the upcoming mind pair. Would you agree to aspire?"
"I have a job." Bearn answered coldly.
"Yes and look where it's gotten you and your loved one." Twan replied with a warm smile, "Merilka is especially interested in you."
Tatar stirred on the other side of the stage, "Which does not mean she isn't interested in you." Twan told him, "It's just that it's not often that she meets someone who's been judged by her on a second judging. She is quite upset that you did not pair."
"I left." Bearn hissed.
"And a sad event it was." Twan said, his eyes cold as steel, "But it is time to move on."
He turned to Tatar and said, "He shall have to tell you the truth behind this himself. Ask him, it might enlighten you as to why you do not get along. And pairing a drak in these calm times should not intervene with your acting should you be worried about that."
"So who's coming?"
"Do we have a choice?" Tatar asked.
"The correct answer would be no. We don't have time. You'll get plenty of practice acting since there'll be little time to train you as aspirant. Now let's go."

~~°~~°~~°~~
Stats and Draks:
Bearn and Ore Genkiki (m)
Tatar and Plant Xaokiki (m)