Completed The fabric from which all good men are made

[Valo]

Early evening, just past sunset
21st Winter 512AV
Somewhere in the streets of Zeltiva


Valo gave out a very loud sneeze which seemed to echo though the narrow alleys for a prolonged moment. The weather had drastically changed over the past few days, becoming mercilessly cold and rainy. And every morning that rain would freeze on the cobble stones, forming a thin sheet of ice, waiting for someone to slip upon it. By noon that ice would turn to ugly slush, only to spend the fallowing night freezing again. And so the cycle repeated.

He'd lie if he said that he enjoyed the cold. Having the pleasure of travelling all around Mizahar in his younger days, many times he'd escape winter to a warmer part of the world. It was almost as if he'd perpetually dodge those long frosty claws. But upon setting in Zeltiva, the cold became a pesky everyday part of life. And with the cold came the sneezing and the illness which he enjoyed even less than winter it self.

Valo thought him self to be a manifestation of fire, like every other Inarta. The vibrant red hair was merely a statement to it, but the true connection came from his love of candles, warmth and good soup. That gravitation to flames perhaps was what truly inked him to the mountain of his motherland, the god of Fire. And despite being only half Inarta, he'd grown up with the culture and the people, which made him somehow feel so different to the humans of Zeltiva. As if he was him and they were them; and there was no connection. Such an alienating feeling.

Briskly he walked down a long, narrow alley, a thick package full of letters in his hand. Undoubtedly one from his mother and one from each of his sisters. Perhaps they had a look at the little sketches he had sent them. The anticipation to finally open them had built up in his chest. Just a couple more turns and he'd be at his desk, reading though each one, probably crying at the happiness his family brought him.

[Reaver Riatal]

The very tall and slim figure wrapped tight in his red jacket wandered the streets, he had spent the better part of the day getting lost in the city. He had set out shortly before lunch and so far he was not happy. As his stomach made its protests he wanted a place to sit and rest but everything was either wet, cold, or an awful mixture of the two. As he looked around he tried again to get his barrings once more, only to toss about his dark hair around his head. This day was turning out to be one of his more less desirable days in Zeltiva. With no way to tell where the petch he was all he could do was wonder around as his sharp blue eyes tried to find anywhere that was recognizable. Ever since he had taken that unfamiliar street from the market he had utterly lost his way. And far from his accommodations as far as he could tell. Though with with the decent of night the bloody thing could be right next to him and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Giving a hefty sigh he decided he needed to give his long legs a break, least they fall out from under him. Looking around he saw an alley way and figured no one if few people would go to such a place for travel.

Walking down the alleyway his brown boots making their thumps on the cobble stone. The ice muffling the noise to a minor degree, he didn't really care. Stealth was not his objective, finding a place to sit however was. As he found a nice spot between a few stacked crates and some disposed of trash. It was perfect, iced over yes but he could easily solve such a problem. Taking off his glove and looking both ways before proceeding. He let his res steadily accumulate on his hand, the ethereal blue substance in the form of thick gel. As it coated his hand he crouched down and smeared it over the ice. Taking into consideration where the flames would go and how much res he'd need to melt the ice. Soon it was perfect, it would be large enough for him to sit down and nothing else would catch fire and get him in trouble. Though in all honesty that last bit sounded like quite a bit of fun. And although spending the night in a cold cell with bad food may be appealing to some on this frozen evening. He'd much rather return to his inn and eat from what food he had there.

Standing up he made sure no res was left on his hand, better to be safe than burnt. Taking a breath he focused and summoned the fire he so admired. The res quickly ignited and began to melt the ice, soon he'd have a nice toasty warm place to sit and rest. However he took pause as he could have sworn he heard footsteps. Had he gotten a little too entrapped with the idea of lighting ablaze his desired spot that he hadn't heard someone approach. Standing still for a moment he waited and began to think rationally. So long as they hadn't seen his little display of djed he should be fine. Even so he should be able to talk his way out of any trouble. If he was good at anything it was talking, the biggest mistake people often made with him. Slowly he turned around his sharp blue eyes taking in every detail of the darkened passage, illuminated by his fire. Dark hair a mess around his face as caution graced his features. He saw a shadow of a figure. Shyke, had he been discovered?

[Valo]

Perhaps it was luck that caused Valo to look up - for his attention was purely focused on his feet and on not lipping for the entirety of his journey - and perhaps his luck has just ran out. That was yet to be determined. But the instant for which he ripped his dark green eyes from the iced cobbles, he witnessed quite a display. The kind of display to halt even the bravest of men, to stop them in their track and root them into the very ground they stood upon. And Valo was just that, a brave man, with little actual fighting skill to back up his bravery. None the less, what he saw was something quite extraordinary, even in Zeltiva.

The alley was very small and very cramped but at the same time very empty. Besides the occasional crate or pile of stuff with no name to it, the alley was in fact just cobbles and walls and ice. And suddenly, like a blazing red spot on a monochromatic canvass, there was fire. And the kind of fare that seemed like it came out of nowhere. For how would anyone set ice on fire? It simply defied logic. The flames were perhaps as bright as his own hair and though they lacked in size, they made up for it with their infernal heat. They melted everything in their path, all the ice and frost, making this spot the only warm spot in the whole of Zeltiva.

Why was it, that every time he was on his way home from the other side of town, something would get in the way. If not an argument between strangers, a smelly drunk or a blood thirsty fight... then magical flames. That was just his luck, or as he thought, the absence of it.

Gathering up all his courage, praying to any deity he could think of that the person causing those flames was not a blood thirsty mage who was out to murder good men like himself, Valo took another couple of steps. He kept his posture, pretended like the display did not faze him. There was a man before him. A man with striking blue eyes and a hurricane of dark hair. A man in a red jacket, as red as fire, as red ah Valo's own hair perhaps.

“Is this your fire?” he asked calmly, in a quiet melodic voice, forming a bridge of eye contact with those blue eyes of the stranger. He refused to be afraid, even is ‘magical’ ways were alien to him. He refused to be intimidated. And shall the stranger prove to be a villain, he would fall back on his best asset, his charm and eloquence. His silver tongue had gotten him out of all kinds of trouble so far. “Quite impressive I must say. May I enquire as to how you did it?”

[Reaver Riatal]

Reaver paused as he looked at the man, blinking for a few moments as he waited for his mind to come up with something. Smiling his most charming smile and ran his gloved hand in his hair giving a chuckling and half nervous laugh. Clearing his throat with his ungloved hand he ran it through his midnight hair as he sighed. "Well, for starters, yes this is indeed my fire. As for its creation, I simply, well it. Alright then, using the djed that resides within my body I used my will to focus that into a substance called res. This res is emitted from my body in any form I choose. Using this same will, I make fire." He smiled as he showed the man an outstretched palm. Trying to show how it was emitted. A small amount in a thick gel pooled in his palm slowly. His hand had some old burn scars but what was the key interest was the ethereal deep blue res in hand. The thought of lighting this man ablaze and crouching near his burning corpse had occurred to him. In fact it was probably the most appealing idea in his head right now. But he had found that lighting people on fire in the past, namely the children who tormented him in his youth was not always the best option. Unfortunately he had made a promise to himself to make friends. Although he was young in this world he could at least credit himself with intelligence, intelligence that let him learn from past experiences. Rather than just ignore them like a fool would do. He had decided to tell the truth of what he knew. The man before him seemed as imposing as the ice he had just melted.

Retracting his hand and sharply throwing his hand down on an ice slicked cobble stone. He pooled more res into his hand and let the gel flow from his hand and onto the ice. Snapping his fingers and simultaneously forcing his will to light the res on fire to melt the ice. He made a display for his new, albeit weird, acquaintance and as the fire began to die down he had also made a seat. As he folded his coat into himself he took his seat, happy to find the warm cobblestone. Offering a genuine pleasant smile as he put the glove back on his hand. Wiggling them into position as he sat and folded his arms over his chest. Looking up to the man he looked human as could be, but he could be Kelvic by the curious nature. However the fact the man was holding letters and the way he carried himself didn't suggest so. It didn't really matter, company was company weather he liked it or not. Gesturing to the seat before him he offered a kind smile once more. "Take a seat if you'd like, though if you prefer not my company then please move on. But just don't tell anyone mys special little secret. I'm not yet with the University."

He had heard that magic was practiced there, that it was a source of learning. Also that it was a safe place for wizards like him. He had yet to visit it to confirm this but he suspected it was so. Though what he suspected was that by saying so he could ease a few nerves that may reside in the man. He didn't doubt the man was brave. However from what he understood of fights, politics, and indeed anything in life. Having reassurance is something few people could afford, but something everyone wanted. Wither they knew it or not. Reaver kept his blue eyes trained upon the man. Though the strange ping of familiar graced him, had he seen this man before? He couldn't remember all that well, what was even worse was the lighting to which there was to see by. Taking a few discarded pieces of wood he set them down in the middle and removed his glove. Whipping just a little res on them he snapped his fingers, his will focusing to a blade as fire lit. There was room to get around the small fire without any injury or ill fortune. He just hoped it made for a more convincing argument to stay and share some conversation with him.

[Valo]

With genuine interest Valo listened and watched, the kind of interest which masked the awe inside his soul. First impressions were very important and he made a great effort to show him self as a well composed gentleman, who's scientific approach to all things matched his superb education. This first impression was most likely the memory that will linger with the mage for the entirety of their acquaintance and perhaps, should they be fortunate enough, a friendship.

The blue substance formed in the man's hand lazily. A substance as blue as those eyes with which he surveyed the world. And for a moment Valo found him self wondering what pigment of paint he would use to describe such a colour on a canvas, should he have the chance to. Would it be a deep ultramarine, a pigment which leaned heavily towards the purple spectrum of a colour wheel; or perhaps a phthalo blue which leaned subtly towards green whilst retaining it's crystalline blue nature. To Valo's eyes that was the most true of the family of blue pigments. The viscous 'res' as the man called it, could be described as nothing else than a gel.

But then something else grabbed Valo's attention. Burn marks in the shape of winding silver snakes, scars upon the man's palm. He didn't know why this surprised him. After fire was a dangerous toy and spending his entire childhood in Wind Reach, a city literally built in a volcano, had taught him that. He guessed that having never spent any coherent amount of time in presence of those who played with magic, left him thinking that they were automatically born with the ability to do so perfectly. As the scars showed him, these mystical abilities were just like painting, taught though trial and error.

As the red flames freed the surrounding area from the frosty clench of the ice, the dark haired man gestured for Valo to join him and the Inarta gladly took the offer. He was just itching to search the mind of this individual, to find out about the secrets of this res and the djed. Being a well educated man, Valo sought new knowledge wherever he found it for there was near to nothing that didn't interesting him. But a more pressing matter was at hand as he smiled warmly at this man of fire. "I believe we have met before. In fact just a couple of days ago and forgive me for your name seemed to have escaped me completely." Valo was not embarrassed by this for his head was full of knowledge and names bore no real importance, unlike the face. The face of a person was more identifiable than a mere title and that he did recognise.

[Reaver Riatal]

Squinting his ever sharp blue eyes at the man he took pause for a moment. Watching as the red orange light of the fire flicked and illuminated their surroundings. For a moment he gave pause, realizing he had indeed met this man before! A few days ago in fact! With a sigh he nodded and smiled at the man, his heated stare never leaving contact with his eyes. "Very well my good man, a reintroduction would be in order anyway. Now that you know my useful little secret. My name is Reaver Riatal, King of Fire." Has to prove his point he gathered a small amount of res in his mouth. Unlike the gel this was as a gaseous form that retained its ethereal colouring. Letting it out with a breath he quickly turned it into fire a good distance from the entrance to his mouth. It created a ball of fire that lasted but a brief moment in the chilled air. Reaver watched as his intelligent eyes grew distant, his entire attention drawn to the fire expelled from his mouth. The powerful flicker of flames, the brilliant and brief blast of orange that assaulted into the dark cold air of winter. In this moment he let free an expression of pure bliss. He had not yet gone into overgiving, he still had quite a bit of djed left in his body. This was simply what he was happiest doing. His joy in life, the muse to which he found meaning. And given enough time, practice, and experimentation he'd find a way for everyone to know its joy. Safely of course, he'd not go down in history as Mizahar's greatest mass murderer.

As the static display came to an abrupt end Reaver turned his gaze to the man sitting across from him. He was curious of this man's thoughts, it was obvious that his displays of djed where not a bother to him. As Reaver crossed his long legs under him and he settled into his spot the heat not yet gone from the cobble stone. And the blazed fire before him still gave off enough heat to warm the both of them. Taking a long sigh he looked back to the man that sat across from him. Examining the more gentle features, hair akin to that of fire, the clothes that shielded him from the winter. This man was definitely human, that much he knew. But that red hair reminded him of something. And like that it all came to him, this man was an Inarta! With a renewed interest he found his brow raised towards his newly reintroduced friend. Giving a small cough he looked to the man awaiting his own reintroduction. Quickly he found that for his future plans this man may be a great asset to him. Also that the Inarta where a rather passionate people, and someone with a passionate drive may be all the better. Once he was in the university he did hope he'd be able to depend upon this man.

His thoughts reeled though all the delightful prospects of being friends with so many many people. All of them able to help with his own delightful little dream, despite all his lack of proper mental stability. Reaver actually did have a plan and aspiration in life. The people of Mizahar where still rebuilding much, of what they had lost. Even he knew that, the books back in the library of Syliras had been more than a little enlightening on the subjects of the world. Though he didn't know too much beyond that everyone was trying to fix or regain even a little of what was lost back before the cataclysm of the Velterrian. He may not be an expert mage like most, he may not understand how to fix everything. But he could dedicate his mind to helping solve the problem. And with friends who could offer advise or insight into a problem, then he'd have higher chances of success. His mind snapped right to attention as he looked around for a moment. Realizing that he may have just missed his what was said by his acquaintance. Blinking he focused and smiled his charming smile once more, his head back into the here and now of the conversation.

[Valo]

"Your secret is safe with me. And my name is Valo just in case you've forgotten" he smiled, properly settling into his place, opposite the Reaver, watching him very closely.

What occurred next was quite a display indeed. Reaver breathed fire much in the manner of a street performer and Valo had seen plenty of those who filled their mouths with alcohol only to set it ablaze with torches. Some even did it with corn starch which resulted in much shorter outbursts instead of continuous streams of illumination. In face as a teenager, Valo him self had some fun with the technique. But this man before him had not a torch nor alcohol nor any other substance but this res of his to create his flames. And beautiful it was. For only a moment it seemed, a little sun was created in the middle of the dark alley, an impressive ball of fire breathed out by a dragon of a man. It lit everything in it's path, covering the world with a warm hue which rendered even the grey a mystical shade of orange. There was no shadow which would not dissolve in the mighty power of this flame, no crack in the walls to escape it's mighty wrath. A king of fire seemed a title befitting indeed.

Valo took in the display, his eyes widening onto a little bit; enough to show he was impressed, but still keeping his composed persona in order. This man seemed so majestic whenever he performed his magic in this way. And what seemed even more important to Valo was the anatomy of the whole event. The straightening on his neck as he aimed upwards, the concentration and a ethereal tranquillity within his facial features as he was at one with his element. The fire cast dark shadows upon his sockets and in the hollows of his cheeks and outlined the jaw with precision no make up could, whilst at the same time highlighting the apples of his cheeks, the nose bridge and the forehead. This was chiaroscuro - the contrast of light and shadow- at it's utmost magnificence.

Valo had taken a prolonged moment to study this man who now, despite creating the illusion he was listening, seemed a little distant. And the fact he had not yet noticed the silence which hovered upon them truly gave him away. He was handsome, if Valo could state that. Being the artist he was, he found no shame in stating one's apparent good looks, no matter what gender they might have been. A part of his profession and consequently his pride was that he found beauty in things, a gentleman like himself, was not suppose to find beauty in. The eyes were in fact the most striking of his features. Perhaps not quite as vibrant as the res, they none the less bore a wonderful hue of blue. He's silhouette was not a muscled one, in fact his apparent lankiness was a statement to his possible lack of physical impressiveness. Yet he was tall, as tall as Valo him self and for that they may prove to see eye to eye in more than one aspect. But that is something the future would hold for them.

Finally after a good moment of surveying Reaved with the deep set green eyes which missed nothing, Valo spoke calmly but with apparent notes of interest in his tone. For he was interested indeed and this led him to refrain from thinking over his sentences like he otherwise would. And perhaps it would not lead him to become less eloquent, it did however mean his exotic accent was much more apparent as he spoke. "Tell me Reaver, my friend, are you a chosen one? Or can anyone learn this ability of yours? I must say I know little of this magic, but it is mighty interesting indeed."

[Amaria Waterstance]

"S'alright lads, I'm not gettin' inta' trouble with the guard tonight. It's quittin' time for me."

Amaria stepped out into the cold, frosted streets, sobering up only slightly from her intoxicated stupor. It had been quite some time she went to the pub with her coworkers, and even more time sense she had as much to drink as tonight. Walking, but what felt more like spinning, she tried to trace her path home, to get out of the piercing cold air, and into her warm home and bed. "Ahh... I think is' this way..." she muttered to herself as she took a turn down an alley she believed was familiar territory. Through her stupor, she didn't notice the constant bumping into thin alley walls, causing her cloak to get pulled back slightly and revealing her black hair, held back by her fathers old red bandana, as always, her brown trousers, black boots, and tan corset, which she only wore on nights she would stay out, cold or not. Alcohol does wonders to keep someone warm, and it felt the same as it did with her cloak up, lest it would if she could still feel anything.

Down the second "familiar" alley, she noticed something though that caught her eye. A glowing orange orb, a fire, and two men, women? sitting, and chatting, or at least that's what it appeared to be through her spinning vision. Though her thoughts ran of where she may be, but for a second, for other thoughts were much more apparent, such as her dinner, or her bed, she started down the path to the two figures, and the warmth.

Getting closer, she heard one of them, the one she could now tell was a male, with amazing red hair, say something about "magic". Within earshot of them now, she made with her best introduction through slurred language, and elaborated, and unbalanced gestures.

"Oii, you lot! Mind if I sit by that fire for a spell?" Waving and stumbling as she drew closer, she came to a crouch near it without waiting for a reply, "So, magic ehh? Don't not know much about that, but I do know, if this fire is made o' that, then whoever made it is my 'ero right now. I needa' sober up some, I forgot me own way 'ome."

[Reaver Riatal]

Reaver visibly relaxed, that's one less person he'd have to light on fire. And more than glad to have the company as well he offered a pleasant nod to Valo. More than glad to have someone on his side for once. Leaning back against the wall his seat was growing cold but it was free of ice and that's what really mattered to him. Closing the piercing blue eyes for a moment he let his mind focus on taking account just how much more res he could produce. He'd used quite a bit to make the seats, fire, and the little fire breath display. Though it was a good amount for one day he still had enough left to put up a fight with anyone seeking to trifle with him. His mind snapped to Valo as he asked his question. Reaver simply chuckled lightly as he shook his head. "Djed, magic, is something anyone can do or learn. There are deep risks involved however as well some magics are not so easily obtained. The use of reimna-" He was cut off as he heard a woman shout. His nerve's where up in a start and caused his legs to spring him to his feet. Holding onto the tip of his glove he wondered if his carelessness with djed had him found out.

However the drunkard that stumbled their was and sat down on the melting ice proved only to be a fool on her way home. Letting out a nervous sigh Reaver sat back down onto his spot. However as her mentioning of magic came to pass Reaver froze up. Thinking that he may have to kill this woman to keep his little secret safe. The last thing he wanted was to be persecuted for his training in the arts of djed. His sharp eyes gave her a quick examination looking her up and down. She was a rather attractive woman, rather burly as well. It was clear she had seen her fair share of scrapes in the past. Though he had no idea if that was from skill of triumph or simply having too much fun in the middle of a punch up. He kept his sharp blue eyes on the woman sizing her up. This woman appeared to be at least a little older than himself, though that was unsurprising seeing as he was rather young for a traveler himself. As he swallowed and listened intently to what she spoke he realized that she wouldn't be a threat to him. Taking a black leather hand and running it through his midnight hair he revealed his brow for a moment. The hair was quick to retake its place however.

Keeping his manner calm and cool he nodded to the woman though it wasn't without a little awkward look from him. It wasn't too usual to find someone randomly traveling the streets at this hour. Much less a woman in a back alley, he sighed and leaned against the crates to his right. His seat placed rather well to let his long torso be supported against the cold wood. His red coat still wrapped tight around him as he held silence for a moment. Things had gone well so far about being honest. Why stop now? With that in mind he forced to surface his more charming side. "Ah the one responsible for the fire was me. My name is Reaver Riatal, my companion for the eve, the good gentleman Valo. Feel free to stay for a while if you wish, but if you intend to may we please have your name my dear?" He spoke as polite as possible and kept his charming smile throughout the conversation. Though his mask of charm had fractured lightly at a stranger invading the private confabulation. He was rather sensitive about letting out the information of his magic. Even more so that a stranger who seemed so loud and, poor mannered, to discover it by lucks happen stance. However as powerful as he was he couldn't force fate to do as his whim. He was far from a god and had no aspirations of becoming one. Regardless of how much he disliked the situation, he awaited the young woman's answer.

[Amaria Waterstance]

"Ahh, Reaver, an' Valo. Pleasure's mine lads. Names Amaria, if you'd like, you ca' call me Amy. Work down at the shipyard I do." She looked over toward Reaver. "You a student down at the University? Naa, you wouldn't be down this cramped lil' spot if you were ehh?" Amaria thought for what she belived to be but for a moment, looking him over slightly, and noticing his shining blue eyes, that almost matched her own, before continuing. "I'm gonna guess, from the right jumpy reaction to my introduction, tha' you're trying to do the same thing as me tonight. Avoid trouble wit' the guard. Don't normally get this bad, but we 'ad a good day at work, an' me an' the lads were enjoyin' the spoils of a ship on schedule. Besides, who'd listen to a drunk like me right now anyway. I jus' wan' to get home to me bed," she chuckled "with as lil' trouble as possible, ya know?"

Getting the chance to actually look them over fully she smiled a little brighter. It's not every night a drunk lass traveling alone would be able to find two men who couldn't out lift her in an alley for once. The one named Reaver seemed like a skittish kid at first glance, but he said he made the fire, which made her a little more easy around him. Magic seemed to be a pretty challenging thing to do, and she would rather trust in the ships she made than some force that could potentially destroy them, but she always found practitioners of the stuff pretty amazing. The other one, Valo, was a gentlemanly sort, she could tell just by the way she saw him presenting himself. She found herself instantly transfixed on his deep green eyes, and his well cut figures.

She relaxed a little more, taking the chance to set her cloak below her and sit sprawled out a bit, ignoring the lack of courtesy she was showing by her posture. "Ya know, you two seem like a good lot. Where were you two 'eaded, after I stop this minor spinnin', I can take ya there. I know these streets pretty well, when I'm clear 'eaded anyway. Been livin' 'ere me 'hole life. 'Cides, we got no work 'marrow, as we're 'head o' shift. You let me warm up 'ere long enough, I'll even show you 'round if you needa' know where anythin' is in town!" She laughed as she said that, and looked them both over once more after she calmed down again, waiting to know where they'd need to go, or what they may want to do.

OOC: If my language is ever tough to read, please let me know, and I'll cut back on my use of slang and rough wording.