Solo From one World's End to another

[Raiden]

78th day of Winter
Location: The city of Zeltiva

The delicate light of the sun fell gently on his face that morning as it did almost every morning. Feeling fed up with sleeping he opened his eyes and stared out of the grimy window that looked out on the myriad of streets of Zeltiva. Roof top after roof top cascaded away into the distance where the tall masts of various ships and boats could be seen swaying back and forward as they bobbed about in the bay.
He rolled over and swung his legs out of bed and stretched his back, letting the bones creak and crack, revelling in the relief it brought. With a sigh he stood up and walked the one pace it took to reach the small chest of drawers in the room and opened them in order from top to bottom, putting on his clothes. Finally he sat back down on the bottom of the bed and buckled up his boots.
A tiny mirror hung on the wall furthest away from the bed and window and he now looked into it briefly. His flame-red hair was still perfectly straight but fell everywhere. From the drawers he had also picked up a small metal knot and he then fixed it to his hair, pulling it back in a ponytail.

"G'mornin' Raiden" said a familiar voice.
It was one of the girls who worked in the inn where he stayed.

“’Tis such a wonderful day outside. Y’should get yoursel’ outside with your trunk today. I’d wager you’d make a fair bob!” she continued, having learnt to never expect much in the form of conversation out of him.

Not particularly wanting to strike up any sort of conversation he merely nodded towards her without making eye contact and headed down the stairs, passing the other doors of the other rooms in the inn.
He heard various voices emanating from each or just plain silence. On reaching the ground floor landing where the hallway led straight onto the door or opened out to the bar to the right and the reception desk to the left he was met by a cacophony of children’s screams and shouts.

“Hey, give it back! That’s mine! Muuuummmm!!!”

“Haha! Aww is Johnny going to cry? Haha!”

“Peter! Give Johnny back his ball!”

“I was! See? Here you go, Johnny, here’s your ball. C’mon? Take it! Why aren’t you taking it?!”

He paused momentarily on the last few stairs unsure how to bypass this without interacting with the family. The older brother was taunting his younger brother his holding his ball just out of reach and snatching it away every time his brother made a grab for it. Presently their mother was peering at the leather bound book on the reception desk while the owner of the inn scowled while pointing out what rooms they had to offer. When the little brother broke down into tears the mother finally snapped and dragged the both of them to two lonely chairs in the hall used to sit on while waiting for reception.
He took this opportunity and moved swiftly for the door. When the family caught sight of him they immediately feel silent as they unknowingly gawked at him. But he was soon out the door and in one of the numerous busy streets of Zeltiva.
Ethaefal are not the most common of creatures in the world of Mizahar. He read in one of the books in the University that at any one time only about 300 of us occupy a mortal body and only three of four of them presently resided in Zeltiva, though he had never made any contact with them. Why should sharing the same fate mean they should band together? It shouldn’t. He thought.
Out in the street he turned left and went down a tiny alley between the inn and the next building to a small corrugated metal shed full of various implements belonging to the inn. Also inside this shed was a wooden trunk held together by iron bands. At its base were two wheels that allowed it to be pulled behind him instead of needing carrying. Back on the street with his trunk in tow he set off for the harbour area where he planned to open his trunk and arrange its contents on the rug that was inside it also.
He glanced up as he passed the length of the Inn.
“The World’s End” the sign outside read. The words got him thinking and he continued to think furiously until he realised his feet had brought him to the spot where he usually set up the trunk. He bent down and began unclasping the trunk, opening it and pulling back the cloth to reveal a plethora of small, brass gadgets. None were particularly useful: The most elaborate of them being a device that spun in mesmerising patters when you pushed it and continued to spin for a seemingly impossible length of time. He placed this one on top of the box at its centre to attract attention and sure enough it worked. Many people passing by slowed or paused briefly to look at it spinning and swirling and a fair few of them even bothered to look at the rest of the wares.

“How much you wanting for the bird?” asked a well-dressed man. His hair was also flaming red, like his own. Probably an Inarta far away from his homeland he mused idly.

“10 silver.” Raiden said, knowing what was to come next.

“I don’t see 10 silver’s worth in it, how about 5?”

He smiled to himself, perhaps making myself look a tad sinister because the man’s face changed to mild shock but he reached out for the bird and demonstrated its actual purpose. A tiny crank handle was hidden at the back and he turned it, causing the wings to flap mechanically, then, after three or four flaps the wooden base at the bottom that supported it clicked and a secret recess became apparent.

“… he see.” Said the man. “10 it is.” And he handed over the money without hardly blinking, appearing to be in shock.

The rest of the day passed mildly similarly except no one else bought anything. He was a little upset, that money would just cover his food for last week and one meal today. The inn owner was understanding, though and allowed him to build up a small tab before he became more demanding with money.
As the sun began to set he packed the trunk and returned it to the steel shed before heading up the gentle hill to the edge of the city. Here, in this miniature netherworld he could relax without seeing anyone and without ever having to speak to anyone.
He lay back on a grassy slope and looked up at the sky, watching the stars come to life one by one and the sun dye the sky red and pink. Soon the moon was visible and he felt at peace. For some reason the words he had read earlier that day drifted back into his mind’s focus.
“The World’s End”
He began to think of the way the heavens were like the end of the world. Where mortality stopped and the laws of nature were no longer followed by rather written by the immortals.

Leth… Syna…

He stayed like this for a couple of hours before heading back to the inn. Food was waiting for him in his room as usual. Before he had ascended the stairs he made a point to pay his tab off. Having once been immortal his new mortal body was more resilient that other mortal beings and he do not require so much sustenance. One meal a day usually sufficed.
Sitting down on his bed he sat eating slowly and staring out his window looking at the moon. Shortly after he shut his eyes and fell asleep with the moons light falling on his face.

Knock knock

“Raiden?” a quiet voice asked. But he was asleep and did not respond.

It was the maid from this morning wandering if she should clear away his bowl but upon seeing me asleep she closed the door again, but only after stealing a long stare at his face. With the moonlight falling on it it shimmered iridescently betraying that he was an Ethaefal of Leth. So too had his hair’s flaming redness faded and the colours of the season shone through more clearly.

[Raiden]

The next day he awoke to find that there was no bright light filtering through the thin lace curtain on his window, but rather the dull drone of rain hitting the roof of the inn. He felt that is was relatively cold but that didn’t bother him, he just got up and dressed as he usually did.
He knew no one would be outside on a day like this, especially not at the harbour so there was no point in taking out the trunk. Instead he opened the very bottom drawer of the chest of drawers and pulled out a few things and set them on the small open floor space he had.
A few scraps of torn metal, some half-finished gadgets and a few tools now littered the floor. He sat down amongst them and began picking them up and fiddling with them. He carefully bent one of the thinner flakes of metal around a rusting iron nail and gave it a curve before picking up a thin rod and a hammer and puncturing two small holes into it. In these holes the threaded even thinner wire and twisted it around itself to anchor it in place. Picking up one of the unfinished gadgets he deftly inserted it into the body of the device and then pulled on the wires, fixing them in place to another part of the mechanism.
The whole gadget was about the size of an apple and was made up of many types of metal, but the outside aesthetics were purely brass or copper. Some of it he traded for with previous gadgets but most of it was scavenged from anywhere and everywhere.
Even though it looked incredibly impressive, like the majority of his creations is served no purpose. One simply depressed a button in the centre and that caused several levers to move the wires and the copper outer shell opened up revealing a space big enough for a small candle. The highly polished metal would then reflect the flame in mysterious ways casting small specks of light around it.
It still wasn’t complete some three or four hours later and his patience with it had grown thin.
I must improve my methods soon. My income is barely enough he thought.
Without getting up off the floor he lay back until his back hit the bed and he reclined in that position again lost in thought. When he felt like nothing was being achieved that day he forced himself up and left his room, not bothering to pick up any of his work.
He was soon exiting the inn and stepping into the lashing rain, not wearing anything but his usual t-shirt and trousers, thought he did put on his gloves as he planned to go to the forest.
Some tens of minutes later he found himself having walked through the gates of the city and circumnavigated the walls until he met the incline of the surrounding mountains. About four or five hundred meters further up the slope the tree line began, it was for this point he headed. Normally it is an exceedingly dangerous thing to go out by oneself but Raiden knew how nature worked too well. The sounds and smells could alert him with plenty time that something dangerous was lurking or coming nearer and the very animals themselves told him things.
He was not like some who could communicate with nature but he rather lived in tandem with it. Rabbits nary fled when he neared, nor did birds take flight if he reached for them. They seemed to know instinctively he would never harm them. Perhaps they understood he had once already transcended the world of mortals and knew he would not care for such a thing as harming them.
The forest was quite silent apart from the constant dripping of rain running off of the pine tree needles and the air was full of the wonderful scent of wet trees with a hint of the minty sap in their veins. Here he wandered for some hours until the sky began to darken. It darkened sooner than usual and much faster sure to the thick clouds and as he turn-tailed and headed back for the city gates he felt an ominous presence high above and far away. He would have bet a lot of gold that a storm would come if he was one inclined to gamble, but he wasn’t.
As he was walking in the still pouring rain back to the inn he took a small detour and walked by the University. How he longed to enter its walls not as a stranger borrowing its knowledge but as a student there to learn its riches. He paused his walk home outside its shut gates and saw dark silhouettes of people in the small windows illuminated by soft candle light. Suddenly something caught his eye.
In the large area between the gates and the university building a large puddle had developed and it reflected the light form the windows in its rippling surface but as he was looking he could have sworn the surface had suddenly become dead still and in the reflection Syna and Leth stood looking out at him. But the moment was to brief that when his eyes snapped to it the rippling university was all he could see.
Perhaps they wish for me to join… he mused in his head.
The reason he hadn’t joined so far was the loathing he had for forced socialising and he couldn’t think of a more forced form of socialising than students! He was older than anyone in that building by a few hundred years and his outlook on life was thusly very different from true mortals.
A short while later Raiden was pushing open the door to his room with his thoughts full of the University. He was so caught up in his mind he did not immediately notice the young maid kneeling down by his gadget with it in her hand. She was staring round at him wide-eyed apparently shocked to have been caught.

“I-I-I…” she stammered breathlessly

He merely closed his eyes and shook his head before adding “I understand your curiosity but refrain from touching my possessions, ma’am”.

The woman appeared to be on the verge of tears and she hurried from his room, nodding her head vigorously and spilling multiple apologies out so fast they tumbled over each other. With a weary sigh he picked up the unfinished gadget and the rest of the pieces that were lain out on the floor. Carefully he put them all back in his bottom drawer and then pulled off his soaking clothes. He wandered downstairs in nothing but his undergarments and hung his clothes near the unattended fire. Everyone was in bed now apart from a few maids finishing their duties so no one saw him. He sat in one of the larger more comfortable chairs beside the fire and stared into it until his clothes were dry. Pulling them on, he then returned to the seat and mused over the proposition of University. Perhaps the lecturer of Arts and Crafts could impart valuable knowledge to him and increase the value of his gadgets. Such fantasies were fine but could they really happen?
Could they really happen? He wondered as he lay down in bed.
Could they really happen? And he fell asleep.