[Matthews Bay] Prologues and Epilogues

[Sondra]

Mid Summer, 512 "…when love is not enough." "No. It's always enough," the arrival smiled, showing a newly chipped tooth, "If you both have it." It stopped their conversation. They had been murmuring platitudes without heart, high, silver things as rare to Sondra as real cutlery. Her presence made them look then leave with half sounds. Sondra lazed over the railing they had left, stretching her spine. She did not know which terrified her more: the vast emptiness of the sea or the resonance it found within her. Here she was, at the end of Denval, the end of her meager hopes to be plain and happy amidst the austere cleft in the mountains. There were worse ends to be found. She was not smothered by rubble or pinned by the shattered peaks. No, she survived once again, her back to broken things. Nothing came to her whole: acquaintances, friends, loves. It was unfair to demand an integrity she lacked, but she had a woman's hopes. Elsewhere on the ship, Caelum nursed either himself or someone else. His compassion was indifferent as to its object. He sought to heal, to please. Believing herself a particular target was a favorite fiction. One passion alone stretched beyond this all encompassing care, and it was certainly not her face it sought. It was the goddess divine, her unyielding brightness and glory. Sondra laughed and cocked her hip at an imagined audience. Oh Syna? What's she got that I don't? The true understanding was in her laugh, a defeated kind of rattle, but still capable of amusement. She delicately crossed her hands at the wrist and let them dangle over the edge of the railing, pretending herself a lady of Mura. Now what gods and goddesses? Was such the epilogue of K'Sondra Kore? Here stands the Konti of disastrous causes, condemned to seek out missing pieces long since destroyed. Come to me and be broken, her benediction. Abandon me when whole, her command. She rolled her head back, looking at the skies. Wishing for them to be full of something instead of reflecting the numbing, constant blue of the sea. How could Ethan have lived at sea for so long? She wondered for her friends, casting their names overboard in prayers to her seemingly nearby father. Grant Avari tides that take her to peace, give Hadrian safe passage, protect Ethan when he flies over you, but, she smiled, leave Caelum be. He is thick with gods. And, father, bear this ship to a shore less lonely.

[Sondra]

The bell rang, summoning the warm thump of footsteps and coiled rope dropped to the ground. "Land ho!" The dark blue of Zeltiva was materializing, pulling watery motes into a silhouette. It would be bells yet before they touched land, but the men and women of Denval gathered above board. Hard eyes beheld the destination. Their homes had been turned over and they were shaken out to land here. The enormity of their arrival was too unwieldy to express, so they just stared and murmured about common comforts: beds, grass food without salt, the ability to walk for over an hour in a straight line. Sondra let the bodies press at her shoulders until her thoughts began to tremble an interrupt themselves with the impulses of others. She was compelled to hide below deck in spurts. They eventually reached Matthews Bay, but were forced to wait. Anchoring was no small thing, and the sea could spit up all manner of filth. She imagined the local gatekeepers would prowl aboard and rustle through the cargo of refugees. She did not let relief infect her just yet. It would make her restless and reckless. Instead, she adopted the same indifferent pose of the months before. Zeltiva, eh? She tried to get a good look at the city and hoped it wasn't appraising her at the same time. Sondra had seen better days, they were long ago, but she had seen them. Unconsciously she pulled chapped fingers through hair that had grown long.

[Ethan]

Ethan made a lazy arc back to Zelvita from Mihril Pass. One of hundreds he did while patrolling. The Kelvic never expected excitement when he joined The Guard. But he didn't appreciate the mind numbing boredom either. As a young man, before he escaped his old Master. They would dock regularly in Zelvita. At the time, the Wave Guard seemed little more than puffed up guardsmen that inspected the occasional ship. Now that he was one of them, he was even more disappointing. They were elitist as well. Ethan never faced out and out racism from any of his superiors, if you could call them that, or his peers. But he couldn't help but notice the way they talked down to him. As if Ethan were simply a lower form of life that needed a certain amount of patience to be dealt with. And wasn't responsible for it's own short comings. This wasn't the typical ignorance that surrounded most humans. It was fortified with scientific proof and analysts from long dead Scholars and Mages. Creating a condescending attitude that nearly provoked Ethan to violence on more than one occasion. It was the main reason he offered to be their long range scout. He was perfect for the job, for obvious reasons. But hesitated to speak up before to keep from gaining any advantages simply because of his Race. But it became clear early on that he would need all the time away that he could get. So there he was, gliding thousands of feet above Zelvita. Slowly sweeping back out to sea. The air was calm, with little resistance, and no clouds in sight. It was on days like these that he liked to experiment. Ethan released two streams of Res from his feathery breast. The first time he tried this during flight. He half expected the Res to be ripped away by the winds. To his delight, the spirit substance clung to it's maker. Only being moved by the will that person exerted. Ethan quickly shaped the Res into gel-like spheres, one under each wing. Hadrian had shown the young Kelvic a book or two on the anatomy and flight of his kind. The words were dry and uninteresting and his skin would often itch, begging him to shift and actually fly. Instead of reading about what others thought about it. But he struggled on, as he often did, and was better for it. He would never learn to enjoy reading the research of others, but he could put their words to proper use. Finding a stable air current, Ethan used his knowledge of flight and wind flow to create a propulsion system. The two spheres of Res underneath his wings repelled concentrated air in a single direction. launching the Lammergeier into high speeds. The trick was Ethan's originally, but the idea to use it while airborne was Hadrian's. He found out early on in his Reimancy training. That he could use Res in a similar fashion to float close to the ground. Much to everyone's annoyance. After about half a hundred times hovering around Hadrian's room, squawking with excitement. His teacher suggested the thought of using it during flight. He didn't know whether it was a ploy to get him out of the house or a training exercise, but it worked. Ethan was aloft more often than not and each time he took to the air. He would get a little better at incorporating Aeroriemancy with flight. Riding the currents, Ethan would often be thrown off balance or threaten to loose control completely. Desperately flapping to bring himself right side up or having to cling to a sudden shift in winds. But he was determined to master the ability and pressed on with extreme fervor. Unfortunately, his focus proved too complete and he was soon surrounded by the endless blue of expanse of open water. Dispelling any Res, he quickly climbed higher to gain a better view. By the position of the sun he had been flying for an hour or more. He was exhausted from the exertion of his Reimancy and in need of a place to perch, which he was in short supply. The air grew thin and the sky heavy, before he crept high enough to see the dull grey shoreline in the horizon. He could make it, no doubt, but it would be painful and would leave him weakened for the good part of the day. Rest was extremely important when dealing with magic, the longer delayed, the worse the effects became. He was about to turn around, contemplating how much easier it would be just to smash into the ocean, when a small brown smudge caught his eye. His head jutted and he immediately shifted his enormous dark wings. The slightest change of color in a sea of greenish blue. Was distinct, no matter how small. And his subconscious mind determined it's identity before he could even form a thought. Ships. And lots of them. OOCsorry to make it so darn long and not really include anything that you can post on. It just got to such a length i had to stop lol. If you want, Ethan will basically be circling the fleet, looking for a suitable boat to land on. Perhaps we can assume Sondra is on the fore most ship? closest and easiest choice to pick and gather some information?

[Sondra]

The ship's governing powers were convening, sharing words about their impending arrival. It was oddly quiet in the Bay. Sondra could hear little more above the gulls and the slap of water against wood and stone. She had never seen a grander harbor. The whole world could have come to Zeltiva's shores and found a place to moor itself. Sondra's elbows were perched on the railing as she breathed air mingled with earth. It was a warm, summer wind, a relief after a season of bracken, bitterness. Laviku was her great father, but she had only skirted over his realm. The ship had been bound in a liminal space of sea and sky, lacking the variation of Semele's mantle and Laviku's deep kingdoms. She didn't know why, but the scarcity of color had affected her. Sondra began to braid wants into plans of what to do upon arrival. There was the obvious, secure work and shelter for her and Caelum, but her practical needs were being drowned by her wistful ones. When able, Sondra would stretch on sun-warmed earth and feel gratitude for the profound steadiness of it all. It would be like the chest of a lover. Then she would eat something warm and dripping instead of cold and withered, and lastly she would sleep sprawled instead of cramped into a ship's hold with dozens of other bodies. Withdrawing from the rails, Sondra began to make a slow review of the vessel, saying goodbye to the home that had held her for over a season.

[Ethan]

There was little respite for Ethan. Perhaps if he were a tiny song bird, his presence would be tolerated. People would be curious or admire his beauty. But the gods saw fit to make him in the shape of a Lammergeier. With broad dark wings, longer than most men stood. Blood red eyes with irises the color of dull sand. And a chest of red-orange feathers. He looked more demon than bird and his presence often invoked fear and hatred instead. The moment he dropped down onto the ship's railing. He was greeted with angry shouts and aggressive gestures. Anyone not busy working the ship gathered around to try and shoo him away. Ethan was no stranger to this rude welcome from humans. Farmers often assumed a bird of his size had to be a predator interested in their livestock, and tried to bring him down with an arrow. He tried taking off, so he could nest in the riggings. But his wings lacked the strength. Magic, when used in excess, was a far deeper exhaustion than anything Ethan had ever known. It came from the use of ones own soul to fuel the magic. There was no fighting against this kind of weariness. Hadrian had warned against it many times, and he was a fool for not knowing his limit after so long. But there was an ecstasy in the act that he couldn't easily resist. "Back you damned fools!" He shouted between ragged breaths, after shifting into his human skin with a flash of golden light. "I'm from the Wave Guard of Zelvita and I demand to speak to the captain of this ship." The authority of his words were betrayed by the straining of his voice. He felt close to fainting but he had to remain strong. He would rather die than let it get back to his comrades that their new Kelvic recruit broke under pressure. It was bad enough they considered him a "Sub-Human". Ethan slumped against the railing with as much dignity as he could muster and waited for the small crowd of passengers to get over their shock and find someone in charge. He could tell they weren't crew by their curious looks and the uncertainty in their stride. They had better footing than most, but none had been at sea longer than a year. Ethan took his first steps aboard a ship. Spent his childhood with men that spent more than half their lives at sea. He could easily tell how green someone was just by their walk. And no real seaman was shocked by a Kelvic. They were worked as slaves and were transported to and from nearly all the ports in Mizahar. Zelvita had laws against slavery and the handling of them, but fill out the right purses and eyes were turned elsewhere. They had to be passengers, or refugees. The storm had laid waste even to Zelvita, far from it's epicenter. But such a fleet of ships was unheard of, ragged as they were. Whenever they were from, Ethan knew that place no longer existed. It was the only reason he could think of for such an exodus. His mind returned to the aftermath of the destruction in Avanthal and a chill crept down his spine despite the hot summer sun beating on his bare skin. He was exhausted, but the few moments of rest would have to do, someone with the distinct strut of command was coming over. Thankfully, it turned out to be the captain. And he was much more used to his kind than the curious people that stood around gawking at Ethan's nudity. The Captain expected nothing less of a Kelvic, and for that, he was truly grateful. Ethan wasn't someone to take advantage and parade himself around just because his kind was known for it. But it took all his remaining strength to stand, slouched as he was. Bending down to put on the breeches he carried rolled up in his talons during flight. Was simply too much for him. The ship's captain, who resembled more bull than man, with his thick neck and heavy breathing. Knew the procedures far better than Ethan and the conversations went smoothly. They were, in fact, transporting refugees from a city on the northern coast of Kalea. In his condition he didn't think to ask which city, but instead quickly turned the conversation towards the current quarantine on Zelvita's docks. Ethan didn't have the authority to say more on the matter. A simple warning and reassurance of their ability to gather supplies was all he was aloud to do. The same speech they told everyone looking to dock in Zelvita. He would have to fly back and warn his higher-ups about the size of their fleet and intentions. But until he rested it would be impossible. The Bull Captain was kind enough to give Ethan his hospitality. A warm meal and a dry hammock. Modest but greatly appreciated and more than most Kelvics would ever get. He slept instantly, the soft swinging of the hammock put him to bed as easily as it did when he was a child. He didn't dream, which was often the case when drained by Magic. Before a bell went by, someone gently woke him, as he had requested. He needed to get back to Zelvita quickly to warn the others and slept only as much as was required to make the flight. Before he left he thanked the Captain again for his hospitality and took flight. He wasn't airborne for long. Heavy tail winds and broad wings made for a quick and effortless journey. He landed in an alley a short distance from the Lord Of Councils office. And made sure to put on his breeches. The officers and men of the Wave Guard understood he could only carry so much during flight, but nudity along with anything uncivilized and unenlightened was a stigma amongst the people of Zelvita. His report was brief, formal and without warmth. No one questioned his right to be there, or his skills. But that didn't mean they accepted him or thought he was their equal. Some even had the audacity to suggest making him an "Honorary Member" so they wouldn't taint the long history of the Wave Guard by admitting a Kelvic. But they argued that it was his right, even though a Kelvic couldn't grasp that concept. And it was their duty as more intelligent beings to protect the rights of lesser creatures. It took all his dedication and will power not to suck the air from their pompous lungs. He was quickly dismissed and ordered to go with a group of his brethren to help sort out the situation at the docks when the refugee fleet arrived. Ethan was glad to be on his way. His skin crawled in the presence of such ignorance. An uncomfortable feeling he didn't think he would ever get used to. Fully garbed in the dark blue uniform of the Wave Guard and equipped with the heavy shield given to all it's members, and with a spear of Ethan's own possession. He marched off towards the docks with his comrades. The Guard was a part time military force of volunteers with more pride than power. Ethan despised them, every last one. But he needed the stability. The gold was meager and insignificant. What he desired was the feel of being a citizen. If this was really to be Hadrian's home and in turn, his own. He wanted to feel like he had a place among them. Even if it was one no one amongst racist ignorant fools. They reached the docks and proceeded to go about their duties and secure various places, set up watches, prepare to keep the peace. It was dull work, but Ethan didn't mind. As long as he was given a task. He could ignore the idiots around him. The illness that had been sweeping Zelvita, was as mysterious as they said. Symptoms varied, people died or lived as if on a whim. There were no patterns or reasoning. Which scared the Mages and scholars of the University and in turn, everyone else. People here relied too heavily on knowledge, Ethan soon found out. Anything they could not explain scared them and sent them running. He did not claim to know what was happening, far from it, but that did not mean he needed to give into that fear of the unknown. When the fleet arrived, he tried to remain calm, conscious of the fear but remembering his lessons on how to control those emotions. His ability to remain focus was a testament to the genius and cruelty of his former master. The officer in charge, appointed him and a few others to go ship to ship. Reminding crew and refugees to remain on board and help the dock workers if they had need. It was on board one of these ships, that Ethan felt a presence, one that he thought he had seen the last of. It was subtle but sharp and pungent, bringing with it many memories and desires. He called up towards Sondra. "I heard it was ill luck to have a woman on board, especially a Konti." He was walking up the gangplank, his head tilted down, shadowed by the afternoon sun. "But to have the Sinspeaker? I'm surprised a Kraken didn't rise from the sea to split the hull in half." He chuckled, now on deck and walking closer. Regarding her intensely with eyes the color of dull sand. "I thought you were dead Sondra..."

[Sondra]

"Ethan?" The word was on the back of a drawn breath, and Sondra straightened from her weary hunch over the railings. "Petch me, Ethan!" The Konti took a few steps towards the Wave Guardian. Even she was impressed by the officious look of him, so she hesitated at the last span and stayed there. "Lady-lis," she laughed in her stupid way. It was the sound that ruined the scarce dignity she possessed, but if she was ever dear, it was then."You actually have real clothes on. I don't petching believe it." Her laughter gave way to something she dare not name for fear of cursing it. Always a refugee, Sondra was ragged as ever. Caelum had seen to any obvious ailments, but she was thin again and rumpled by seasons cramped at sea. At least she hadn't been fighting. The Konti was abrasion free for the moment. Sondra rolled on her feet, feeling for the shape of boundaries. "No, not dead. I'm damned hard to kill it turns out. Most every city has tried." The Konti shoved her fingers in her hair, pushing it from her brow. It was a nervous gesture paired with a wan grin. She was still incredulous at the turn of events and the orderly looking Kelvic in front of her. A daughter of the all seeing, she should have been accustomed to the abundance of "fate" in her life. Perhaps Sondra did not wander, but sought without knowing, finding precisely what she was meant to. She was water flowing down a hill not understanding it was seeking out the sea. "Lady-Lis," she repeated "It's so good to--," the Konti half stumbled into the remaining distance. She used the back of her arm to push Ethan's shield away so she could throw her arms around him. "--To see someone again." He could feel the relief rumble in her chest as she spoke into his uniform. The seasons had made her a little tenderer, but had they made her whole?

[Ethan]

He stood still, a small smile playing upon his mouth. It warmed his heart to see her so happy in his presence. Only a year ago it seemed she couldn't go a moment without striking him with a blunt object. Although Ethan was mostly to blame for that. He was younger then, and more brash. Unused to his growing feelings and urges, both animal and human. It was only a year ago but for most Kelvic's a year was a lifetime. He broke his silence when she embraced him tenderly. "You've become quite the softy." His warm tone betrayed the sarcasm in his words. He tightened his hold on her, in case she tried to pull away. "I missed you Sondra." Even if she didn't. He missed her more than he would ever admit. The feel of her reminded him of that. The severe longing he tried to ignore and shove aside came rushing back with her touch. Ethan had to break apart, before he decided he would never let go. "You look healthy," He muttered awkwardly, as he tried to will away his emotions. "finally put on some meat." He straightened out his shield and spear, clutching for words that wouldn't come.

[Sondra]

It was more ardent than she would have guessed: the broad longing that passed from Ethan to her over the tendrils of her gnosis. When a creature's fervor was powerful enough to be heard in her mark, it either humbled or terrified her. Ethan felt on the brink of not letting her loose again. It reminded her of the bearish grip she had on Hadrian when he returned from the void. Life was gracious when there were people worth taking a hold of. The Kelvic relented, and wore an expression she thought him incapable of: sheepishness. He had matured. Sondra was fair at pretending ignorance of emotions to spare strangers, but she stood across from someone who knew some of her capabilities. "I think you really did, miss me, Ethan," she observed to her friend. Or so she believed he was a friend. Enough of his past had trickled into her eyes over the seasons they spent in each other's company to make her unsettled. Her revelations came mostly after Ravok as they slogged over cold terrain. After a collage of visions, she was left to wonder whether Ethan was disarmingly simple or uncommonly cunning. The Ethan she sometimes saw in the chavena was charm for the sake of manipulation. His hand rested gently on something only so it wouldn't struggle when he decided to choke it. An innocent version of the Kelvic had been broken in the nest and re-forged into something winsome and wild. No man would play such a long game though. She was persuaded his dedication towards her had been the effusion of a young man's pleasure. Not the desperate calculations made by the famished boy in his past. "Yes, I look as pampered as an Empress," she replied to his compliments. "I hope you fight better than you lie," Sondra laughed, "Or your captain is in for a surprise." Her mind dashed to a new hope. "Is Hadrian here? I met a friend of his. We can all eat in Zeltiva tonight. Gods, I'm hankering for something fresh."

[Ethan]

He had assumed the initial excitement of meeting an old friend in a new place. Would of worn off after the first long embrace. He never saw Sondra as the sentimental type. Drawing out the moment any longer than it needed to be. Which left him with the startling revelation that she was actually, a happier woman. Her eyes were brighter, less sunken in. The muscles in her cheeks more familiar with the act of smiling. Even her aura seemed warmer. "Where Hadrian goes, I go, he is my Teacher after all. I'd ask which friend you met but he collects them like fleas and bedbugs." It was common knowledge Ethan had disdain for anyone he did not personally know. Something about being forced to be friendly simply because you had a mutual friend irked the Kelvic. But he kept his tone friendly to blunt the edges. Until she mentioned eating in Zelvita. "Actually that's why I'm here Sondra." He shook his shield a little to remind her of his ominous and official presence. "There's been an outbreak. We don't know what it is, but it's been sweeping through the city. Until it runs it's course. I can't let you or anyone else off these ships. We can't risk it spreading to the other ports."

[Sondra]

"Quarantined?" The Konti laughed, but it had a heartbreaking tinge of hysteria. "You've got to be petching kidding me. This is not funny, Ethan." But then Sondra's eyes read the Kelvic's, and whatever spirit kept her shoulders straight jumped overboard. "Lady-petching-Lis. You're serious." If it was anyone but Ethan delivering the news, she might have thrown her boot at him. Instead, she walked in a circle like a dog about to nap, then heavily sat on a crate lashed to the deck. She didn't say anything, but rested her forearms on her knees and laced her fingers. Spots of violet betrayed the pressure of her grip. Who knew what she thought she was holding on to? "Well. So much for that… glad Hadrian hasn't imploded. But I worry over what he's teaching you," her brow pinched with a quick show of concern and fear, but she turned away to hide it. "What about Kendall? How's he--she?"