Closed A Friend for Life (Elysium)

[Zeran]

83rd Day of Fall, 513 AV The architect of the Gateway must've been allergic to straight lines. Buildings, in the typical Lhavitian fashion, supported domes on top, but had straight walls at least. The Gateway was just domes, the only straight line being the floor, though it did beg the question if they had been originally designed to have curves in them. Somebody must've had enough sense at some point to realise walking in a bowl wasn't going to be easy for most people. It hadn't been the longest of walks, Lady Elena's estate to the Divine's Gateway, and Syna had stayed vigilant throughout the journey. Her rays danced up on the mountain tops, as if she walked the stone herself, and the skyglass coating over the majority of the building did well to match her radiance. But with winter creeping closer with each passing day, the temperature had receded along with fall, carried away like so many leaves in the wind. The occasional, glancing beam always did well to hit Zeran in the eye as he approached, almost testing a person's resolve to push forward, only to reach the end seeing nothing more than dots, knowing Syna had been enjoying herself making a game out of the ricocheting strands of light. The reflections of the skyglass did an effective job of ridding the immediate area of any lingering shadows, but didn't manage to remove all of them. Zeran sat in the shade of the Gateway, looking out over port and ocean. Syna did a better job on the sea's shifting waters, than the solidity of the stone that comprised most of the city. The waters glittered, moving in time with the beat of the strands of light, like so many gems clustered together. It was a sight that could only be witnessed, not described, from the heights of the mountains, as it extended beyond the horizon into unknown waters. More lights, accompanied by shapes, wander into his sight, as Zeran rubbed at his eyes in a vain attempt to be rid of the dots. It was annoying how they always lingered in the centre of your vision, looking like they were falling away only to jump back at the slightest movement. The pressure he was applying was doing more harm than good. His eyes began to ache from the attention. Hands withdrawing, opting to blink instead, Zeran watched the blades of grass bend in the chilling winds beneath him. He tingled with the feeling of the grass against his skin, carried through his senses by Auristics, as he explored further around him with closed eyes, wrapping himself in his cloak to keep warmth from escaping too quickly. Firm, but offering resistance against forces such as the wind, springing back to position if pushed, giving off the freshness that such plant-life carries as the morning's dew still clung to each blade. The grass beneath, the buildings around, and the ocean beyond. Everything always shone. The dots had abandoned their job, and Zeran spent no more time admiring the scenery. He was capable of doing so any day he didn't have something to do. Approaching the first dome, the glaring light obscuring the outline of the building fell behind the structure, revealing the Gateway's true size to the world that had originally been masked by silhouettes and glancing rays. No doubt about it, it was definitely impressive in its design, not limiting itself to conform to the norm of other buildings in Lhavit, but still appreciating their appearance. The ideas of the architect must've rivalled those of Lady Elena to have come up with a building so extravagant. Raising his hand as he approached the door, Zeran heard a light, but powerful, voice carry itself through the air as it swung open in front of him. "Excuse me! Do you have a pass to enter the Summoning Grounds?" Zeran froze in place, turning his head towards the quickly approaching woman, voicing his confusion with a noise. The instantly recognised trait was her height; Zeran had to look further down than he normally would when addressing another. The woman only came up to his chest, hair tied back, papers in one arm and a proportional build for her height, but that didn't take away from the stern expression she had on her face. Either she was just that nosey, or she was in a position of authority to be demanding things from others. Seeing his confusion, she expanded on her question. "A piece of parchment signed by Corin Row? Has a few details on it that people like me need to know?" "Should I have, little one?" he asked, watching her lips thin slightly, as her aura only flashed with something he couldn't discern. "Cute," she replied, "but don't think you can just give me a nickname out of the blue." "I didn't. It was a statement of fact." Her eyebrow climbed her forehead, and her aura still made no distinguishable changes. "You're definitely not the tallest person I've had the pleasure of meeting." Her expression returned to its original, stern look, as she nodded to herself, as if coming to a conclusion or judgement. Nothing seeming to have bothered her. "You don't have a pass." That was a statement of her own, ignoring his goading and returning to her original point of calling to him. "What do you want then? This isn't the Surya Plaza, you're not allowed to just wonder around because you haven't got better thing to do." She gave him a hard glare. "Especially if you're just going to cause trouble. We have zero tolerance for any petching about inside. This is a place for research and learning. If you're not here for either of those things, or anyone of great importance, you can turn and leave. We don't give out tours." Zeran made a deliberate point of delicately touching his face and head, checking if his head was still on his shoulders. She had done a good job so far. Once satisfied, his hands dropped. "It's obvious this isn't the Plaza. That's where all the happy and friendly people are, and you're here." "The real mystery is why you are as well." "I'd like to learn Familiary." "Divines have mercy on the poor creature desperate enough to accept you." The stern woman only watched as Zeran burst in to laughter, showing no signs of any confusion, shock, surprise, or anything. Nothing on her face, in her body language, or even in her aura. She was a sharp-witted one, for whatever reason, natural or learned. Zeran couldn't find any indications that she responded to his prodding, but returned it in a magnificent way. "I like you," her finally managed to say, rubbing his chest from the laughter. A while later and Zeran was able to stand straight again, smiling widely down at the woman. "Yea, I really do. Can give back what you take without the slightest fracture in your composure. But no, I've no pass, but would like to learn Familiary please." "Shame I can't say the same thing about you," she said. In truth, he wasn't surprised. It was very rare that anyone was likely to forgive instantly after an awful first impression. Now it was down to if she was willing to give him a second chance. "Neither do I know what to make of you now though. Although, if you're wanting to learn Familiary, you'll need to speak to Corin. I can let Ruik figure you out at that point. Saves me the trouble." "Who and who?" "Wait here while I do get him. I can almost guarantee you won't be waiting long." She was taking precautions, not letting him inside just yet on the off chance he was putting on another act until he was. "Don't bother trying to sneak around the back. Someone will stop you in the Labs as well." And the door closed behind her as she disappeared inside. He wasn't sure what was universally accepted as 'long', but whatever it was, he hadn't been waiting for it as the doors swung open again to a man smiling as widely as Zeran usually would.

[Elysium]

Corin was of average height and build, walking with a rolling, cheerful gait. Strangely, everything about the man seemed cheerful, from his affable smile to the twinkle in his earth-colored eyes. He looked upon Zeran appraisingly, though the scrutiny was buried beneath his happy veneer. ”Welcome to the Divine’s Gateway,” he said, reaching forth for a handshake. ”I’m Corin Row. I’ve been told you’re interested in Familiary?”

As if on cue, an orb floated just above his shoulder, gleaming in the midday light. It looked on in characteristic silence as Corin did the talking. ”Oh, forgive me,” the man said, gesturing to his companion. ”This is Ruik. He is my familiar and further, my friend.” The orb said nothing, bearing no affection and no ire, aura emanating vast, cold emptiness. ”He is a Irylid, from the darkface of Fyrden.” But as he withdrew his hand, he stopped himself. ”My apologies – do you know anything of the discipline?” His eyes wrinkled at the corners.

”Follow along,” he said expansively, gesturing toward the doors. ”You’ll be alright if you’re accompanying me.” Turning on his heel, he strode off, seemingly without a care in the world. There wasn’t even hesitation to see if Zeran would follow; no, this man was utterly self-confident in every sense of the phrase. There was no question whether or not a person would comply. His whole demeanor was strangely compelling.

As they walked, he talked.

”So then,” he began. ”Tell me of what you know and I can fill in the rest. It is important to know just what you’re dealing with before you jump straight in.” Yet, despite his easygoing manner, the question felt very much like a test. Ruik was watching intently, gauging the answers as they came. There was more to Corin Row than a cheerful smile and a set of perfectly white teeth,

They walked up a set of stairs, veering off from the second set of doors in favor of going upward to a catwalk overlooking the grounds. Many individuals in arcane robes wandered about, making observations of the proceedings below. There was a rather large beast pacing irritably within the confines of a summoning circle. It was utterly aflame, every aspect of the canine engulfed in tongues of fire. It howled fiercely, eliciting little more than a nod from the researchers nearby.

”Ah, they’re trying the Tethor again. They’d better be careful.” He said, nodding as if someone was whispering in his ear. ”Too true,” he replied aloud to his familiar. ”We wouldn’t want that happening again. Sahova has enough of an issue with them in their own research domains. Let one free and you have a full-scale population by season’s end.”

[Zeran]

Zeran grasped his hand firmly, as it was offered. There was something about the way Corin held himself that was infective, as if putting an end to his mood could be considered an offence. "Zeran Cobalt, if we're being formal and using full names. Nice to meet you, Sir Corin." Even his aura radiated with energy, hand buzzing from twists and curls of yellows and bright greens as Zeran shook his. "And you've been told correctly. I assume I have the little Lady to thank for that." Zeran posed it as a statement, rather than a question, knowing the answer. Muttering a curse, as another gleam of light hit him in the eye, Zeran squinted into the beam to find the perpetrator. A sphere, coated in patterns of frost like that which sat across windows during winter days, hovered to one side of Corin as he spoke. "Hello," he said to the ice ball. Silence was his only reply, as it continued to hang in the air, unmoving. "Not much of a talker, are you?" Zeran turned away from the floating object, figuring he wasn't going to get a response, and back to Corin as he released his hand. "Is everything about the Gateway curved and designed to hit me in the eyes with any available light source?" As Corin introduced the ball as Ruik, his familiar, Zeran watched Ruik as he felt being watched in turn. "I'll try that again then. Hello, Sir Ruik." The sphere did nothing more than drift up and down, undisturbed by the world around him. "Still nothing, eh?" Zeran turned back to Corin, giving up on the familiar for now. "Beyond knowing it is not a discipline chosen lightly, for a multitude of reasons, most concerning the intelligence of the familiar, I know very little. Part of the reason why I'm here. There's only so much you can learn from word of mouth before needing to seek out someone who knows what they're talking about. I've decided to come straight to the professional first." He gave a shallow bow, supporting himself on his cane. "I believe that's you." As much fun as it was hearing conflicting views, and then having to puzzle fact from fiction, it became more of an annoyance when you wanted to learn. Especially with the whispers of death and enslavement surrounding the discipline, but he could never seem to make heads and tails of them. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like the kind of thing you'd want to hear from a traveller's tale in a tavern without more of an explanation. It was just another magic discipline to Zeran. Each one carried its own risk with use; it was just down to how you handled each one that would decide what affect they would have on the wizard. Up until now, Zeran had travelled from Ravok to Lhavit, each transition forcing him to start anew. As much as change held new things to discover and have fun with, he just wanted at least one thing to stay the same, regardless of what change would bring in the future. He released the bone bracelet from between his fingers, along with the memories it brought, and let it hang on his wrist once more. Zeran followed without complaint, walking up to and through the front doors as he had tried to do so earlier. "What I know isn't worth mentioning," Zeran replied. "I know that Fyrden is not your average person's first sight-seeing choice, and that its residents are not the kind of people you want to make enemies out of. Definitely not if you're bringing them to you." He followed Corin up a flight of stairs, becoming distracted momentarily from the roar coming beneath them. Zeran slowed to an almost-halt, beaming at the flaming creature circling the grounds below. The railings found purchase in his hands, as he leaned in to get a closer look. Fire was a bad start, but throwing it on a wolf-like being was asking for trouble. Neither were particularly pleasant if you got on the wrong side of them, and this thing - 'Tethor', as Corin called it - had the charms of both at its disposal. It didn't look, nor sound, like something Zeran would want to meet one-to-one any time soon. Returning from his state of awe, Zeran picked up pace to catch up to Corin, returning to his answer to his question. "Why don't we assume that I know nothing? It's much easier for you to make sure I know what I should from a blank slate, rather than deciding if what I already know is true, false, or good enough, and then trying to fill in gaps around it. I wouldn't rate drunk talk very high myself. Not too sure about you." He continued to follow behind Corin a few steps further, glancing up at Ruik again and back. "So, as Sir Ruik doesn't seem to talk much, I'll ask you, if you don't mind. How's your partnership been?" Zeran made a point of not calling Ruik Corin's familiar, as it made it sound like the sphere was more of a tool to be used. It was as Corin introduced him. A familiar was a friend and partner.