Solo Winds of Change

[Caesarion]

37th of Summer, 515 AV

Three days had passed since Emarus Telemaran stepped aside as the holder of Caesarion and Ameer. The three days had been . . . difficult, with the young man hunting Gibbats for his meals and sipping from the same jug in moderation for his water. The day of judgement was coming up, but he didn't quite know - yet - if what he wanted was a life under the foot of Sahovan wizards. Even if he became a wizard himself, which was certainly possible already, he didn't think it would change the fact that he worked for the benefit of a city that he deemed clearly evil. He wanted to live and die in a place that he could fight for, not fight against. He would never be happy serving Sahova. He would always seek a better path. And so, he went to the harbor. He had come to Sahova through the harbor, and he figured his best option for leaving would also be through the harbor. This part of the island was certainly much more exciting than the city, with traders and dignitaries lined up of different races than the norm. There were many Svefra, though he didn't imagine they'd lend him a voyage. He of course had to scroll through the potential options - who would want what? Would skilled sailors really need his reimancy capabilities? Could they not handle everything on their own, regardless of storms passed? Svefra were therefore a back-up plan.

He scrolled the harbor for ships from each city. Most of them were from Zeltiva. Despite proximity, he couldn't find many from Sunberth. Then again, he didn't even really know much about Sunberth. In comparison, Zeltiva was world-renowned as being the wealthiest city, and one thing he'd learned while in Sahova was that they seemed to get along somewhat well with the city, despite obvious differences in morality. He supposed it wasn't a bad option to board a ship there, especially considering Aoren was possibly there... though he wasn't honestly too sure if, at this point in his development, he'd consider living in a city just for a particular person of interest. He was far fetched from sailing back to Ravok, after all, despite his brother living in that city. Without much thought otherwise, he decided that Zeltiva was only an option because of whatever it possessed, not because of particular people.

Of course, more importantly was the matter of whether or not anyone would accept his services. Most people in the world would surely have a negative opinion of Sahovans - for good reason - and mages were very often feared. Would a ship accept him as a Reimancer? Possibly, but they were very well within reason to doubt his integrity. There was certainly a matter of convincing, whether that took sheer wit and words or hypnosis. Either way, he was damn well going to be leaving this city.

Interestingly enough, from the corner of his eye as he pondered his options, the man saw a large animal with an extremely unique appearance. It was certainly a horse, and certainly white, with... a... rainbow-colored mane? He was sure he'd never seen it before, and it was very unique looking. It was much like the animals on Sahova - clearly forged by magic, or at least something much more divine than two beasts petching. The young man was, evidently, interested in it enough to draw closer to it. He began to walk forward, staring blankly at the horse as it moved, breathed, and was handled. It didn’t really seem to have any unique properties other than its appearance, at least at first glance. When he was only several feet away, the mage asked the person handling the horse a simple question. ”What’s the name of this thing?” The young man looked at him and decided to speak softly, “The horse is a Denusk.” He didn’t seem very interested in words, but that was perfectly fine considering he was already a lot more personable than most of the Nuit on the island.

”Where did you bring it from?” he asked another question. The young man shrugged and replied, “Riverfall. Long voyage. Originally went to Zeltiva to sell some Denusk and other horses, but some were wanted in Sahova, so…” He mentioned Riverfall. This immediately caught Caesarion’s attention. He didn’t know much of the city, but he knew he hadn’t heard that it was an intolerable cesspool or anything of the like, which meant it was a viable option to travel towards.

[Caesarion]

The young man decided to push the line of questioning and inquire the horse-handler for some more information. If Riverfall had created this gallant race of horses, then they probably had some skilled in magic, which made it a good option on its own. Not to mention, the man handling the horse was human, which meant that the city was possibly populated with a more civilized people than the undead shit of Sahova . . . ? "What sort of city is Riverfall? Who are its people?" The young man looked at him strangely, as if he couldn't possibly fathom why he was being questioned considering he was a horse-handler, but he nonetheless sighed and answered anyway. "Riverfall's a city in Cyphrus. Don't really know what to say for its culture, as I was born and raised there, so... but, uh, the common races are Akalak and humans. Sometimes Konti." Caesarion recalled the word Akalak. It was that race of exceptionally large and fiendishly strong blue people that desperately tried to get into the Knights of Sylir. He remembered seeing them somewhat often as guards and other martial things like mercenaries - in Syliras.

That was interesting. He supposed they had to have a homeland, and that homeland was likely Riverfall. He had never run into any problems with them before, so there was no predisposition towards the race of warriors. All he remembered was their stoic personalities - at least in public - and their diligence. Compared to the mind boggling bipolarity and general insanity of those living in Sahova, even the most boring of personalities was a relief. He'd rather have boring and linear than wildly entertaining but off into thousands of different directions, and each direction often pulling back and violently hooking on to those that were mildly interesting. That was, in a very roundabout way, a personality description of the people in Sahova. "Does Riverfall often create these beautiful animals?" He asked, stroking the mane of the horse. The young man shook his head and laughed. "No, Akalak aren't the most prestigious breeders. This race, Denusk, was made by Kavala. She's the leader of the Sanctuary, the organization I work for. A Konti woman, renowned for her skills in animal husbandry and healing." He spoke very fondly of her, implying that her personality was also probably quite decent. That was a positive thing. Caesarion didn't really know anything about the Konti, although he had seen one before. He remembered them being very . . . fair. Light hair, light skin, light eyes. He was also once told that he looked like a male Konti by someone exceptionally drunk, which drew the conclusion that they were probably generally quite beautiful . . . in a narcissistic correlation.

"I see," was what he responded with at first. But, then, he drew closer - to a thought. If Kavala was a renowned healer, then she might be someone capable of removing the "T" brand on his back. The mark of Emarus Telemaran. He didn't quite want the brand living and festering on him forever, as he would always feel like a slave until it was gone. Or at least he'd never quite feel separated from Sahova. If Kavala could rid him of this unfortunate association, then she was by far the most favored prospect, whoever she was. "When are you going back to Riverfall?" Caesarion asked. The young man quickly replied, "Today." Today. That meant that he needed to bring along everything he could if he wanted to escape to Riverfall, this fated place. "Would you be willing to take me with you to Riverfall, if I were to pay with services throughout the journey? I am a skilled mage and have previously worked as a hunter." Caesarion didn't waste time being idle or afraid. The horse-handler raised an eyebrow, and seemed to grow quite nervous. "Well... I..." He turned his body and began to point at the ship. "The Captain's in there. You can say I let you on, but you'll need to talk to him about boarding. I don't have the authority."

Caesarion nodded and stepped forward onto the bridge of the ship, then climbed his way up until he came upon the open door of a cabin pressed against one side of the hull. He saw a man inside speaking to another man, though their conversation was more social than business-related, at least from a glance. His attire was fancy and he was surrounded by things that rung of a high-ranking official, so Caesarion dared to simply ask the question: "Are you the Captain of this ship?" The man looked up at him and nodded. "Yes, I am. Who are you?" Surely he wasn't looking at the most well-done man in the world, as Caesarion had essentially been fending for himself lately. But - he was looking at a man nonetheless, one that would appear generally healthy, tall and very well built. "I am Caesarion," the mage told him. "A mage. A former slave. I would like to ask if I could board your ship to Riverfall, and pay my own way by my services as a Reimancer, hunter and personal bodyguard." The Captain crossed his arms and sighed, then motioned for the other man to leave the room. He beckoned that Caesarion be seated in the chair in front of his 'desk', and the young man quickly complied.

"Who told you to come to me?" He asked. Caesarion wasn't sure if this would lead to the young man getting in trouble, but by his permission, he confessed the truth. "The young man handling the Denusk outside." He said plainly. The Captain of the ship rolled his eyes and smirked. "Okay," he began. "So what can you do?" That question led the mage to grin. "I'm an infinitely expanding well of things I can do. As of right now, I'm a far above average Reimancer. I can use these talents to ward against heavy winds, increase the momentum of the ship's movement, and defend against anything that may try and attack us on land or in the sea. Not only that, but I'll pay for my passage as I accumulate money and will pay for Kavala's patronage when I arrive in Riverfall." He advertised himself as he was - a fighter. The Captain did certainly seem intrigued by his abilities, at least by the look on his face. "Alright, I'll allow you to board the ship. You'll be responsible for your actions, though. If we discover you doing anything mischievous, I'll gut you." He nodded, then shooed the young mage away. Caesarion smiled brightly, and offered a 'thank you' before running off to grab his belongings from the citadel.

[Caesarion]

Upon returning to his temporary abide and regaining his items, the young man equipped his family heirloom: the scale mail of Panthos, placing his longsword into its scabbard along his belt and equipping his nicest pair of clothes underneath. He wore his long boots and his simple necklace, as well as the leather vambraces that showed that he was a slave. The collar Telemaran gave him was put into his collection of things he needed to bring, and when everything was ready, he said his goodbyes to Ameer and returned to the dock. The ship's Captain welcomed him, admiring his change of attire for battle-readiness and showing him to the area of the ship that he'd stay in. It was far from glamorous, but considering he'd been a slave for the past year, it was an improvement in reality. "Thank you, Ser," he called him. The Captain nodded his head, not deigning to speak but not refusing Caesarion's pleasantries. He forgot what it was like to deal with other humans - normal ones. They weren't just naturally bad people. They wouldn't assault him for speaking out of turn, or insult him for speaking at all.

He immediately felt rejuvenated in their presence. And, of course, he would get to work to show his worth the moment they set sail. The hours before that were boring, but he made them interesting by his own methods. He set his equipment down beside his bed, and on the wooden floor of the ship, he laid his back down and began to exercise like he normally did. It began with breaths, then stretches, then the repetition of movements to increase the shaping and sizing of muscles. The other sailors looked at him funny, as if it was taboo to board a ship and then start working out and sweating all over the ground, but being in Sahova changed his mentality to that of one that desired only self-improvement, not necessarily glamorous conversation or approval from his peers. He had diverged from being a normal human as well, the place shaping him from a man of ash to a man of marble. As such, their stares, their words, their thoughts, were all unimportant to him now.

When the ship began to sail, he had already finished his exercises. He'd gone through his sit-ups, push-ups, squats, weight lifting and leg stretches. He climbed the ladder to the main area of the ship, with the mast beginning to pick up wind as it went outwards from Sahova. Caesarion showed his ability right then and there, calming himself, interacting with his Djed and releasing Res upwards as a torrent of wind through the mast, pushing the ship forward. The Captain glanced at him and nodded his head approvingly, as if to tell Caesarion that he was proving himself already. Whenever the ship would lose momentum for a long period of time, Caesarion would again funnel wind through the mast and push it forward. He would not allow the ship to decelerate to a halt, which was his purpose and he served it well. He also found quite a small following of people who hadn't seen Reimancy in action and were interested in what it could do. This wasn't Sahova - magic wasn't very commonplace in the rest of the world, and you didn't just see people flinging fireballs at one another if you walked down the road. He'd have to get used to that again.

"Am I doing as you expected, Captain?" Caesarion asked, grinning. He chewed up the 'breast' of a Gibbat he'd cooked with fire Reimancy, using the protein for the purpose of improving his bodybuilding as well as helping regain Djed. Considering the separation of time between each burst of wind, the mage managed to remain generally awake and far from the consequences of overgiving by pacing himself. As such, due to his patience, he was consistently aiding in the progress of the ship, which did make the Captain praise him. He nodded yet again, simply, a man of few words. A smile was received in response, and the two of them well enough had an accord - one that led them out of sight of Sahova, with Caesarion looking back to make positively sure that he could no longer see the island at all. With that, his gratitude was found. He was free of the shackles, free of the wildness, the depravity and the decrepit. He was free of the ancient Alahean stronghold of shit, piss and arrogance.