[The Passenger Quay] Singing to the Ocean (Sitkanis)

[Syllke Skyglow]

59 Summer, 511

Sitting back on his heels, Syllke laughed outright as the two children went scrambling, almost falling over one another as they ran to grab the leather toy. It was almost as good as having a puppy, he thought happily, watching them shove each other so as to be the first to reach out and pluck the yo-yo from the ground and bring it back to him. They had paid attention as much as their young minds could as he had patiently shown them, multiple times, how to use the leather thong to spin the two fur covered balls at either end. The idea was to get them going independently of each other but in rhythm – a skilled practitioner could do this even holding the tether in just one hand. But after two dozen or so attempts, with little success, the children had tired of this game and invented their own. One had inadvertently let go of the spinning orbs and it had gone flying off. Running to retrieve it had turned into something of a match of speed and pushiness between the two. Fetching it back to Syllke, he had enthusiastically sent it flying again, this time much further. The kids yelled in delight and flew themselves, up the quay and to the beginning of the road leading upwards to the town above. Over and over they had repeated the fling and chase, having an over abundance of energy that needed an outlet, as most children did.

This time, though, as they scampered back, prize in hand, Syllke shook his head in a friendly way. “Enough! You’ve worn me out.” The crestfallen faces were soon enough smiling radiantly again as he added, “Take it – it’s yours. Practice and find me again in a few days and show me how you’re doing with it.” The two yelped with delight and ran off, already disputing hotly who should get to hold the treasure on their way home. Still smiling, Syllke settled back down to sit as he had been originally before being accosted by his two little friends. The passenger quay was a natural magnet for the Vantha. As curious as he was about everything and anyone that might come across his path, Syllke had found the quay a good place to perch and watch the myriad goings on, which often involved peoples from far off places as well as the Denvali themselves. More often than not, he would have in his hands as he sat there, either a stump of charcoal and a scrap of paper, or a lump of muddy clay, or a stick and his knife, transcribing the vision of his eyes to a vision in his mind and thence to the medium he was working. On this particular day, as he sat with feet dangling down over the ever shifting green water, he took up his carving knife once more, picking up the little piece he had been working on before the children had sown up. It was a horse, inspired by the earlier arrival of a number of travelers from one of the ships anchored far off the rocky shore. One of the women had been unfortunately possessed of a face that put Syllke in mind of the long nose of a horse which he had made a quick sketch of the other day. The wood in his hand was well on its way to blending the woman’s features with that long nosed face, a horsey woman, or maybe a humanish horse. Before he kissed the carving with the blade, he held it out at arm’s length, then pulled it close, then held it out again, assessing where he was, where he had been, where he was going. With a slight frown, he sighed. Something was not quite right, but the wood in his hand was being very quiet. Perhaps it did not appreciate his little joke.

[Sitkanis]

Sitkanis knew it was a terrible idea to keep visiting the Quay. It was the last place that he had seen Adalia. He needed to move on but maybe it was something else that was calling him to the quay. He was scared to death of the water but in the same respect, it was how he came to be. At least in an Ethaefallen sense. He still remembered the fall, although it could have all been a dream. He shook his head as he thought back to the night that he awoke on the coast of Denval. It was a memory that he liked to keep out of his mind. Walking forward, Sitkanis could see a pair of children running around the Quay. The seemed to be chasing after something. "Dad… Nekara and I are going to go hunting." The voice echoed in his mind as he saw the children playing. It was the memory of his son, or at least his voice. The Ethaefal could barely remember the boy or even his name. It was all a blur from his past life. Sitkanis grumbled slightly has he rubbed his temple. He did not want to think about his son right now. There were too many questions surrounding him. What had become of him? What has he like? Was he even still alive and if he was, how old would he be? It scared Sitkanis to think about. He had no idea how long he had been dead. His son could have been older than him by now. Toward the edge of the quay there was a man who seemed to be playing with the kids. Sitkanis did not recognize him although he never prided himself in taking good account of the people around him. Where he was sitting worried Sitkanis, not for the man's safety but because he knew he could never put himself that close to the water. The sea was unforgiving, especially those that could not swim. Sitkanis was not the most social person and when he did attempt to make conversation it usually ended up in an altercation. He was much more comfortable with watching and getting to know people through observation. It was not that he wanted to spy on people, he just truly did not want to muddy up his time with conversation. When the kids scampered off with their new toy given to them by the man sitting on the edge of the Quay Sitkanis decided to walk forward. He was worried a bit about the water that surrounded the quay. Looking down to the man he saw him working on a bit of wood. He smiled lightly as he saw the shape that was taking form. "My people would have loved your art." He spoke flatly, although he was trying to be kind with his words. "Or more so, my people lives ago." While the Ex-Drykas wanted to know more about the animals that lived with his past race he did not know too much about animals. He loved animals of course but all of his knowledge about them had been washed away in his fall. "What kind of horse is that?" He was trying to make conversation, even if it was coming out more awkward than he intended.

[Syllke Skyglow]

Not having yet resumed his carving, Syllke was easily distracted by the approach of the man who ventured the short distance out on the pier to where the Vantha sat. Looking up with a friendly expression and his almost always present smile, Syllke noted that the guy was tall and well built – perhaps he was part of the city guard. Though, he had noticed that many if not all of the Denvali men seemed to be a bit martial in their bearing – apparently they were trained as warriors from an early age. This seemed odd, as it was impossible to reach Denval except by sea – or air – so the town appeared to be quite safe from intruders. In any case, as Syllke smiled up at the young man, he saw, more than his size and stature, his expression. Regardless of the small smile, the man seemed . . . restrained. Guarded, or perhaps just . . . reserved. But the young Vantha was happy enough to chat with anyone, whatever their state of mind. Turning the little half finished carving in his hand, he held it out further for inspection by the other. “I’m not sure it’s any particular kind. A Frostmarch, maybe.” He stared at the wood intently, but it wasn’t giving anything away. “I think perhaps it wants to be a woman. See?” He held it up towards the man’s face. “What do you think?” Almost as an afterthought, though it was not, he added, “Who are your people – or were?” Squinting a bit in the sunlight, his eyes ran over the man again, wondering about his reference to the past.