Location [Entrance] The Rolling Waves

[Amelia Cross]

[60h day of fall 513.a.v.]
[Middle day]

Just seeing Zeltiva from a distance had brought a whole new spectrum of feelings back to the girl, but now, stepping her feet back on the streets and inhaling the salty air of this city. It was so familiar, she could almost see the way she ran along these streets a child and how she wished to be a sailor once, not for long though, her mind change quickly and she decided to be a teacher, then something else and now she was an apprentice of a mage, earning a living by fortune telling.

Either way, the people she arrived with had scattered on their own little things, they knew where to meet up and how so she wasn’t worried. Actually, Amelia was even sure she was most familiar to this city. So having Fauna by her side, smiling to the people crossing her way and asking for directions once a bit lost, she made her way to the closest inn. Finding some food and maybe a job around here would be the next in her priority list.

The girl had wished to come back eventually, but was she really prepared for this emotionally was not clear…after all, Zeltiva was the last place where she had a family, where she was loved.

[Elin Mata]

16th of Fall 513 AV Midday Gods, how Elin hated the weather. Oh yeah, first it's all like, 'Hey, I feel like being sunny today!' and then the next second it decides to go all stormy and cloudly and pour its petching rain all over you! The girl had just trudged into Zeltiva, leading her horse by the bridle. She'd have to find somewhere to stay and stabling for the colorsplash. With any luck, they'd be near each other. Ever since the news of the destruction of her city of birth had reached her ears, Elin had been fretting over the survival of her people. But then there was Zeltiva. She'd heard that there were other Denvali here. A port city, like Denval. Secluded, like Denval. Granted, it was more crowded than her old home, but it was close enough to suffice for the girl. She could hunt for the Zeltivans, maybe. Head out into the wilderness like she did in Syliras, so they wouldn't have to eat fish all the time. Did they eat fish all the time? Did they barter, instead of using money? How would she get a job? Elin raised her head, strands of hair heavy with water sticking to her face. Petchin' rain. She would've preferred wind. At least it wouldn't soak through her clothes and chill her bones. The young girl tugged on the reins, the horse following her obediently as she trudged through the streets of Zeltiva. First things first: Find someplace to stay for at least the night. Every town had an inn of some sort, right? So she'd look for that. After another half-bell of going in circles, she found it. Kind of. Elin thought it was the right place. World's End Grotto, right? Yeah. So she just... walked in. And that was that.

[Elan]

~Elan~ 10th of Fall, 513 AV Leaving the Glacier's Howl was harder than he'd thought. He'd become attached to the old lady, he knew every inch of her deck from scrubbing it when his name had come up in the rotation every few days, he had lovingly rehung many of those ratlines he gazed at as he stood on the dock. It felt alien for the ground beneath his feet to stay still, as if all the life had gone out of it, as if it was just waiting for him to fall and bash his face against it. Elan narrowed his eyes at the ground, then glanced up at the Glacier and waved a final farewell before turning and walking in the direction of the city. He was headed to the World's End Grotto, he'd been told by some of the dock hands that they were in need of an extra cook. Nothing glorious, just an extra pair of hands for the simpler dishes. So that's where he was going, he glanced over his shoulder and sighed, just when he'd gotten used to being a sailor. Here it was, his new life in Zeltiva.

[Bakk]

Bakk stepped through the last little bit of the forest and moved a tree out of his way. his helmet bobbled a little bit as his heavy feet picked up in pace as he approached the entrance. he had been surviving off of wild game for weeks on end now and couldnt wait to bathe, have a small meal, and find some place to sleep for the night.

the city left Bakk in awe, it truly was more marvelous than the other small cities and villages he passed, and he simply marveled at the site of the university

i should take on a few classes over there while im here,

he thought to himself as he stepped in through the entrance. his warhammer was being used as a walking cane. his tired legs could only carry him so much farther, but to be honest his stomach was doing most of the walking as he approached the inn. the only thing that was on his mind as he approached the entrance was food and sleep.

[Midna Coolwater]

19th day of Fall, 513 av Down east street she went with the broken windows and the rising damp, with the lechers and watchmen all sniffing the flowers of evil; down east street with the cracked walls and broken windows; down east street with the flowers of evil; down east street to a new flat with the stench of rising damp and wet wood burning in the hearth; down east street she went, with man-and-machine, with wood turners and chandlers and other ropemakers; down east street with ragged men huddling around an old brass brazier; down east street from the shipyard, from the fish market, from the gentle ropes from the lovesless love nests, with the smell of the flowers of evil. Lasheela's ship finally pulled into the docks and the beautiful pier after being delayed for three days in a horrible storm that rocked the boat and threw off ropes and candles and wood and other goods and forced you into land to wait it out with no rations, starving Midna finally came to the docks with wet clothes and a rumbling tummy under wet sack clothes and shivering and covered in bumps with the cold (but what does that matter to an old Vantha?); finally comes to the warmth of old men, bad booze and long stories, and the warmth of hearths and too many questions and an altar to Priskil and the god of Wet. And she mused over the too-many warm questions; 'aren't you a pretty young thing?' No - 'Vantha, ey? Avanthal - boy I was there many a wae won meal ago, with the white brass coming over the hills all colours and the milky sky and eyes of all colours; which hold were you from, girl? I know all about Avanthal, I had a girl there - let me tell you, if I didn't know about Avanthal, would I know that Snowsong is two hundred and fifty meters from Skyglow; did you hear about that girl from Skyglow who was murdered? Have you ever really seen Morwen? Hows your mother?' (Midna would spit and sigh, or vomit - 'I came here to bury Avanthal,' she'd say, 'Not to praise it.') She put her feet on the pier; Zeltiva! Zeltiva! Massive old city of shacks and stonemasonry, massive old city of commerce and small traders and the old guard; stumbled into a fray of scurrying thieves and fat merchants and sailors with large hairy forearms and beautiful fat noblewomen, and brass and silver and gold strings on harps and people who walked right by you and not even leaning down to say, 'Hello.' How could it be? To a little Vantha-Myrian never out of her hold, and get lost! Get lost, tangled up in the flowers of evil and tresses of nets and ropes and the wae footsteps on the wooden pier; and where blood and soldiers and force poured down from the scummy quarters on the sides and plots and reactionary violence; how could such a thing be, outside of a hold - but what does that matter to an old Vantha? 'Get home and get inside,' she thought, 'and get into a bottle of wine.' She forgot about soldiers and old men and bad beer and busy markets and no eye contact and lovenests and she even forgot about seeing a man with a dagger in his heart in the empty thoroughfare, welcoming her drunken body to Zeltiva which stunk of the flowers of evil as she went down east street - but what does that matter to an old Vantha? 'And your name?' said a sentinel; big and hairy and light flesh, Midna was his shadow cowering under him and he was a big candle eliminating all shadows far out to every corner, 'Midna,' she stammered, 'Midna... Coolwater.' The sentinel frowned and Midna cowered and the sentinel asked a lot of other questions, like 'what is your business here?' - 'To make ropes, gov' - 'How did you get here?' - and she came off like a terrorist, probably, or a tramp, because she could hardly push out the words in her rusty Common; and her shaky hands made her look like an underage courtesan, probably, strayed from her madam, or a drunk like she was - 'Are you carrying any weapons?' - 'no, sir farthest from my mind' - she was too milquetoast for big sentinels. 'I'm going to be sick, sir.' Let me go down east street and smell the flowers of evil. 'Did you come to praise Avanthal?' she pictured him saying; 'No, I came to bury it.'

[Kalina]

60th Day of Fall, 513AV Kalina was not the first of her travelling party to get off the boat! nor indeed was she the fastest. The small Kelvic, currently in human form, was desperate to be off the sea bound vehicle and onto dry land once more. But, even after so long on the ship, she had not gotten used to it and her legs were just as wobbly as they had been on her first excursion on a boat, back in Ravok. For the most part, the girl was lucky enough that she could just curl up anywhere and sleep; that seemed to make the time go faster. The feline Kelvic was not as horrified by water as she had been when Marcus first took her away from the Kelvic Research Institute. Since beginning their travels, Kalina has spent more and more time around lakes and rivers, even going as far as to attempt to learn how to swim. A big incentive was the fact that she hadn't had a single piece of fish since leaving Ravok, and she knew that, should she be able to brave the water. She could attempt to catch one herself. Following closely after Amelia, who was seemingly taking her sweet time in exiting the vessel, Kalina grips her Master's hand with all her might, partly because she needed his support physically, still feeling nauseas from the choppy sea. But also the one year old didn't really understand why the four were travelling so much; she was confused, and was generally close to his side, straying off to explore less and less. This new city was not as enthralling as the last; the buildings looking the same to her, for the most part. They had not been in Nyka for long, which had not left Kali with any identifying features with which to separate the two in her mind. Except the smell. They both differed greatly from Ravok, however; although this city had a port, it was nothing like the lake based city she had come to call home. Thinking on it, though, she imagined that this city would be full of places to eat fish in... and that made her smile.

[Marx Eisenstahl]

75th of Autumn, 513 A.V. Sunlight streamed through the mountains, dappling the countryside with bright ribbons of light. Birds chirped and sang at each other, calling for attention. Gaudy wild flowers huddled together, sheltered from storms and wind by the mountains. From a distance, a creaking could be heard. Marx Eisenstahl held his hand in front of his face, shading his eyes from the glaring sun. He stood on the side of a caravan, wearing all his mismatched armour. He sighed with relief. He was worn from travelling, worn from spending nearly half a year travelling. But he knew it was worth it. As he looked down at his battered armour, he knew it had to be worth it. He'd been out of work- good, well-paying work- for some time. He'd saved up, and made one last, desperate journey to Syliras, which he'd heard was very busy. He didn't stop to consider that a city run by over seven thousand knights might not need mercenary support. And now, after so much travelling, he had arrived at what he thought would be his resting place. As the caravan creaked onward, into the city, Marx hoped that he was right.

[Halin'a]

1 Winter, 513AV

Halin'a rolled his shoulders, frowning slightly at the tightness in his muscles as he did so. He hated this form; hated being so completely severed from Leth. In his other seeming, at least, he could feel an echo of what he used to have-- but it was useless to brood on thoughts like those, considering that over fifty-six years had not done a thing to change his situation. Halin'a was an Ethaefal, a Fallen son of Leth, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Glancing down at the city, Halin'a wondered once more what had urged him to come to Zeltiva-- he had no good memories of the place, even if the memories were of his former life. The strongest memory was the feeling of the icy water of the harbor closing over his head, seeping, trickling, pushing, and rushing its way into his lungs. Halin'a shook his head; that was not his memory, but his past life's.

Studying the view as Syna's rays bathed the city, Halin'a decided he would much rather see it in Leth's; but he was biased, after all. Shrugging, Halin'a followed the caravan in to the city.

[Liana]

20th of Winter, 513 AV

Excitement and fear overwhelmed her as a few sailors jumped over the side of the ship and landed on the dock. Ropes were thrown after them and secured to heavy posts along the walk. Everyone milled about the deck around her, eager to be off the vessel. She hadn't stepped off since Mura, even though there had been two stops in between. Liana hadn't been able to muster the courage, and even now she was having trouble building up the strength to move closer to the edge. She had reached her long dreamed of destination after sailing most of the fall, though it hadn't been much of a trip. Liana wondered what her mother would think if she knew her daughter, so eager to leave and explore, had holed up in her room almost the entire trip.

She'd never been on a ship, and never been around so many strangers. It was a bombardment of new sounds, sights, and smells. Before the trip she had been so sure and so brave. Now her knees felt like water and her palms were constantly slick with sweat, no matter how many times she wiped them on her cloak. The few Konti who had boarded the same day she had were her only comfort. Liana clung close to the older women, the eldest more then triple her laughable twenty-six years. She was nothing more than a child compared to them, though adulthood was close at hand. One touched her shoulder. "Are you ready? They're lowing the gangplank now." Wide eyed, Liana watched as some of the crewmen on deck laid down the walkway that lead to the docks below. Another one of the women squeezed her hand reassuringly. "One foot in front of the other."

Her head bobbed uncertainly when words continued to fail her. Her heartbeat was like a drum in her chest, and as the passengers began to disembark she felt like they were all walking to the deafening beat. Surely they could all hear it hammering in her ribs. The oldest Konti lead the way down the rickety plank, holding onto the rope railing as she went. Liana was next, with the other two behind her. She stopped at the top and looked at the bustling docks below. So many people. And the smell! What is that smell? The city stretched out past the docks, with tall buildings that were tall, foreign, and a little frightening. Everything looked a little washed out from the ocean air. It was far cruder than the gentle beauty of her island. "We're right behind you," one of the two women coaxed from behind. She was holding up the line, she realized with embarrassment.

Clinging to the rope railing for dear life, Liana picked her way down the gangplank. It bobbed with the increasing weight as other followed behind, and she quickly skittered down to the dock for fear of tipping it over. When he boots landed on the dock, the eldest woman wrapped an arm around her waist. "Zeltiva has had a run of bad luck here and there recently, but it's a good city. You'll do just fine. There is much to see and learn." The four of them walked with each other to the end of the dock where they hugged and said their farewells. The women departed after some well wishing and good lucks, leaving her at the fringes of the port city. Liana had never had any reason to believe it were possible to miss Mura, but as she watched the three Konti women retreat into the crowd, she felt an unfamiliar sensation. Homesickness.

[Fitznemo]

64th day of Winter, 513th year AV

The weather had been persistent. No real rain to speak of, no strong winds nor sudden changes in temperature. It had been slightly cold, which I have always preferred. All of this meant that there was nothing to distract me, no weather to fight against, no threat of injury or incident, not even the grinding sensation of hunger to draw my thoughts nor the weight of exhaustion to close me off to the world.

No, everything had been fine. Unfortunately this had left me all too much time to think on what waited at the end of this long, lonely walk. Just over this coming ridge the world would fall away before me and I would see it, Zeltiva, My home. There I would find the old streets and sights, smells and sounds. And my parents.

A long time has passed since I left, a long time and a lot of me. I'd run through it a hundred thousand times, almost to the point of madness, what will happen when I go home. How should I do it? what should I say? should I sent someone to tell them first? should I hide my face or pretend to be someone else? No, I think I decided long before I even started my days of mental torture.

I'm going home, I'm going to see my parents, I'm going to tell them I'm Dead.