Open Down at the water

[Weylin Quickshot]

Date: Winter 512, Day 87, Early morning.
A little way along Mathews Bay coast.

It was light still the skies filled with shades of colour, deep shadows of clouds blotting out the reds. The quiet rumble from the ocean echoed out, the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks, with the quiet crunch of the sand beneath hooves. The space here was open, with very little to snag upon, a perfect place to practice riding. Weylin had lead Averti along by the reigns, taking the narrow coastal root by foot, following Mathews Bay round. She had lead her Strider along for a few minutes before she found herself looking down into the smaller bays, selecting the quieter one before she begun her descent. She glanced up at the looming cliffs, her ears twitching for other sounds of life, not that she could hear any. The Drykas took in a deep breath, and unloaded the saddle bags of the few things she decided to bring with her today, her bow and arrow among them.

Weylin gave a pat to Averti's side when she was done unloading, a sign that he could freely run about without worry. And so the stallion charged off to the ocean spray, leaping about in the water whilst Weylin simply set herself out in the shelter of a group of rocks, taking a brief moment to check the tide before she turned her attention to the horse. In the distance she could see the trade ships looking to dock in Zeltiva go past, their sails out to catch the bonesnapper wind, and then promptly inhaled the sea air. Pulling off her boots, she flung them next to her cloak, and paced her way barefoot down the beach, feeling the sand between her toes before she came to the water line. Although cold, it was not as cold as she first expected, it still sent a shiver up her spine, but still she stood, letting the wash of the water lap at her feet, her body quickly becoming use to the cold. Her eyes watched the stallion leap about, chasing waves and releasing his boundless energy. He would indeed be a while.

[Valo]

Truly picturesque was the scenery that morning. The sun gently hovered at the horizon, cascading it's golden rays upon everything in it's path. The sky had not been quite this fresh and clear since the start of the season. The grey hues subsided to the blue that signified the apparent approach of a new season. Five more days 'til spring. Valo could not be more pleased. After the excitement of the previous day, he had agreed to meet his beautiful lover somewhere along Mathews Bay coast and she was truly not difficult to find, for the racket made by Averti was admirable. A sound of happiness and uncontrollable energy. Weylin however was the portrait of tranquillity. Without shoes, she lingered at the edge of the water, staring into the distance and if there was something truly beautiful she had witnessed. The artist strolled over to his lover casually, his red hair tied back into a tail at the nape of his neck and dressed perhaps more causally than always, a gentle crescent of a smile was painted upon his face. That blush of intoxication, no longer present within his skin of alabaster. With a quiet 'hello' he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, allowing that serenity of the scene to continue just couple moments longer, before anything had the chance to disrupt it.

[Wrenmae]

Beyond the crested surf where Averti danced, a dark shape loomed in the gloom of choppy waters, swimming down the coast. Steel grey broke the surf but briefly as the massive creature turned toward shore, a fin like the telltale shape of a flag cut the waves as the immense shark flicked its powerful tail toward the shore. It was easily twenty feet long, some sort of leviathan horror from the briny deeps, coughed by circumstance to dwell where shallows caught its body in the surf.

It was some distance away from Averti, further down the coast in the opposite direction of Zeltiva. It swam up toward a narrow inlet, protected by jagged cliffs where land rose sharply as if leaping to reach the sky. Purposefully, the beast beached itself on the sand, but even as it struggled, it changed. First it shrank, dwindling from its massive size as water lapped where gills had not reached before. The pallid grey skin was shifting as well, pale pink flesh spreading like blotchy rashes across its white and grey expanse. The fins shriveled, unfolded, became arms and fingers. The head of the great beast nearly separated as a neck divided a growing skull from the rest of the body.

In a matter of moments, a barely recognizeable human head gasped and spluttered in the surf as the rest of his body slowly followed design. Twisting chest from muscle and legs from a tail, brown hair sprung from his crown and fell over a pale, but handsome face. Naked, Wrenmae picked himself up from the water and trudged inland, crossing his arms around his body as another figure, nearly identical to him, stepped from the shadows of the overhang and lay a cloak over his shoulders, helping to rub him dry before they both vanished.

Only one man stepped out of the overhang a minute or two later, dressed in Waveguard regalia with a rapier and long dagger belted at his waist. The cloak was stored away.

Unaware anyone had been watching, Wrenmae stepped out to the surf and stared to sea. In the spring it would be easier for him to swim as a shark, but the cold waters were unforgiving to the beast. It craved warmer environments, a fact he'd found out the hard way.

It was the splashing that alerted him he was not alone and staring across the water at the prancing horse, he fell back into the cliff overhang, unsure if anyone had seen his transformation from shark to man.

[Weylin Quickshot]

It was the quiet sound the artist made as he approached, the quiet greeting paired with a simple sign of affection, that drew Weylin's attention away from her watching. Her eyes for a moment traced Valo's form, before returning to his face. She smiled, her attention for a moment wavering to Averti with his loud and playful cries, the sound of enjoyment as the Stallion chased the waves. But then, it returned to Valo.
"Fancy seeing you here," she gave a whisper "It must indeed be a small world to meet you again so soon."

What ever did linger in the surf Weylin did not notice, her attention was drawn away. Besides, Averti had legs that he could dash away with. Her fingers laced with his for a moment before she pulled herself away from the water edge, escaping the icy cold. She drew her eyes away and looked upon the ocean, a sense of calm returning to her face.
"You know," she cleared her throat "Before I came to Zeltiva, I had never seen the ocean nor really knew anything about it. I had no respect for the wild nature, nor the turning of the waves, but now I can admire it and see what it can really hold. Just like other things, the intention of fate for example."
She glanced up at Valo "Like how fate made sure I looked back at you, stumbled and..."
Weylin went quiet for a moment, she still remembered her small hiccup at the Winter Ball, the unfortunate event of tripping and the smashing of glasses. It was indeed something she would not forget any time soon.
"So, how are you today?"

[Valo]

Perhaps this would have bee a lovely conversation. Perhaps...Perhaps this day would have gone accordingly, like any other normal day. But fate has a habit of not allowing events go as smoothly as one could have hoped. The entirety of Weylin's voice had all but escaped him, for his eyes had witnessed something he perhaps should not have witnessed. A distraction of the most peculiar kind. A shark that so casually stepped out of the water and in a matter of mere moments a strange transformation took place. And the shark was no longer a shark, yet a naked man who had just moments ago had been a shark. And defiantly to all logic he so casually stepped out of the water and disappeared into the dark void of the shadows beneath the cliffs. How could this be possible? How could a man be a shark, or a shark be a man? And logic pointed to the only plausible explanation for such a phenomenon; the mystical djed which he had been so peculiarly introduced to at the beginning of the season. That was the only explanation. "Weylin." his voice trembled as those green eyes of his gazed blindly into the distance. His head nodded in the direction of the cliffs where just moments ago, this wondrous shape shifting took place "Am I loosing my mind?" The brown haired man reappeared from the shadows, dressed elegantly in his Wave Guard uniform. Though startled by Averti, he retreated once more. "Perhaps you'd think me mad later, but come with me." said Valo as he took the hand of his lover and strolled casually towards the place where he had previously seen the mage. Though perhaps that strange occurrence could have been a figment of his imagination. Fate seemed to have a plan for Valo, much like Weylin stated. It spun him around and propelled him forwards, before thrusting him against an impossible wall, ordering to climb it. A bothersome waltz with fate. At the man at heart of that very ominous dance was none other than the shark which just appeared from the water, though Valo had not been, now will be aware of that until the very end. A man who brought illness everywhere he went. Perhaps the cleverest thing the young artist could have done was to turn back and pretend he saw nothing, but fate had other ideas in store of him.

[Wrenmae]

Pressed against the inside of the cliff, Wrenmae scowled. Had he been seen? Had his secret been found out? Admittedly, he should have chosen a point farther from the city, but the cold water wasn’t good on his transformation…it prompted him to be sluggish, unresponsive, lethargic. He couldn’t afford to walk around and climb the hill near the cliff at present, not in the full view of whoever was out there.

And when all hope is lost, they turn to Zan.

They?

I assume that as the hero in this story, I earn the right to be adored by millions.

What a relatable hero. A blob of flying water.

So hung up on appearance, Wren, tsk tsk. They know me for my origin. Alas, alas, cast far from home in an unfamiliar world, I struggle against adversity to do what is right.

You sound cliché.

And you sound like a dick, but I don’t quash your dreams because of it.

You think you can distract them?

I’m distracting you, aren’t I?

Point taken. Go ahead.



Rising toward the top of the precipice, Zan took Wren’s shape just in time to grab the edge of the cliff, hoisting himself over. He wore the Waveguard blue, but his hair was blonde and eyes a jubilant blue. Although Wren and he could have been called mismatched brothers, there was enough difference to divide the two of their identity. To Valo and Weylin, it would seem as though a fellow had scaled the cliff from the bottom to the top, hurtling over the lip with barely a pant on his lips and rising the stretch both arms to the sky. Zan pretended not to notice them, more concerned with settling into the finite shape of a fleshling. How they all managed such limited existence was beyond him. He could only bend certain ways, couldn’t fly, stood on two feet…FEET. It was frankly an embarrassment to everything he was.

As Valo and Weylin approached, the familiar wheeled on one foot, thrusting his index finger at them imperiously. “You! You and you. Both of you.” He paused, the index finger returning to his side and then to his chin, tapping against it as Zan thought. “So. You think you saw what might have been seen or at least saw a sight worth seeing. That being said, one would argue seeing is believing which is really a feeling I’d be better off relieving you of.” His head danced to one side, then back, clockwork. “So, what you saw was to say what you thought to see when you saw. But without sight, true sight, the slight sight righter than a ‘might’ could be more that you saw what you did not see and saw farther than reality would rather be.”

Zan grinned at them, resting his chin on the back of his hand as he considered how to proceed. “No one sees what you saw, not really. So what you saw was no more sight than a slight miscalculation of light imagination. Get what I’m saying?”

He blinked, blew through his lips in frustration. “I mean to say you didn’t see what you saw or rather I should begin, what do you think you saw?”

[Weylin Quickshot]

Her hand was taken in his, and she was lead forth. An expression of brief confusion filled her face as she listened to the words of Valo. What ever had bothered him was obviously of some concern to him, and so as she tried to understand fate gave her a hard shove forward into the unknown. And as the Waveguard peaked out from over the edge, wheeling round on one foot for a moment, the Drykas paused. Weylin was silent for a moment, her mind trying to comprehend the words of the man who stood at the top of the rock in the uniform of the waveguard. He gave a point down at the pair of them, spouting out words at such a great rate that Weylin had very little time in translating the words, so instead she looked up at him with a deep set frown. Her eyes then slid to Valo, watching his face for a reaction as the fluent common tongue came racing down.

It was too fast for her to understand, so after a while she simply gave up on listening and turned her head away, her hand slipping from the artists. It was rather begrudgingly to say the least, for without understanding what was going on to begin with or what Valo had seen, the Drykas was little more than stumped.
"I do not have a clue what he is saying," she muttered as her eyes narrowed with though "Big words and talking too fast. Not a good mix."
Her hands went into her pockets and she sighed, before turning her head to Averti and keeping an eye on the Stallion. Although he was currently free and roaming in the waves, she still had to remain aware of what he was doing. Hurt to him caused hurt to her after all. But then he slowed, thankfully and Weylin was able to bring a response forth.
"What on Mizahar are you on about?" she sighed shaking her head "Because the only thing I have seen is a Waveguard on top of a rock talking so quickly that I may of thought he was a twittering idiot."
Weylin Quickshot, guaranteed to be blunt and straight to the point all the time.

[Valo]

Valo did not see the liquid hero that few upwards in the shadows. He did not see the man, Wrenmae, who lingered, pressed tot he rock in apprehension of the situation. In fact, within the whole ordeal, the artist saw very little of what was actually happening and perhaps had he seen more, than a very different root of conversation would befall them. He had seen what he saw however and within that sight lingered a barrage of questions that could be answered by one man and one man only. And that man, or perhaps that shark who was a man, was hidden from him.

Valo's eyes watched as a man, a different man climbed atop the rock. A man who's posture, every detail of the body right down to the wave guard uniform he wore, was identical to that who had emerged from the water just moments ago. He was however not that man. And though they could have been considered twins, hair colour was something striking in a human being and Valo perhaps was particularly sensitive to these things. He focused with intent, capturing the moments as time frames, engraved into his mind that now attempted to calmly to make sense of it all. Sense of what exactly it was that his eyes were seeing, nothing every detail in this strange investigation. For the man that now stood before him was not the wave guard who's brown hair was combed by the fingers of salty water, but his blonde imposter with eyes, blue as the diamond sky, that glistened from atop the rock.

Kelvic was the very first presumption that had sprouted in his mind when the shark emerged from the waters and took on the shape of the man. Or perhaps a man that had shed his shark body. But that presumption was quickly cast away, added to the pile of unlikely yet vaguely possible scenarios that lingered at the back of Valo's mind just in case they may come in handy. For there was a strange sense of recognition within the artist. A sense that he may have seen that man before, somewhere. The exact time and place were perhaps obscured from realisation.

As he observed the man now, however, standing tall and imposing over them, that very recognition slowly grinned forwards, bursting from the artist's mind. For he had seen this man before.

Magic was the next most plausible scenario. Some sort of morphing magic, where a man may shape his body. Surely that would allow the man to change the colour of his hair and that of his eyes. A subtle disguise in order to sway them and confuse them. And Valo could not prevent the corners of his lip from curling upward subtly at this thought,for to him that was a smart move. A clever disguise and perhaps a fun game. Perhaps there was a hidden agenda in it all. If he could only place the face, place the voice. Surely that would be the missing piece of the puzzle.

As the couple halted at a distance from the rock, Welyin's hand moved from his. Her disinterest was apparent, as she looked towards Averti. Valo however was suspended in perplexity. His unbound curiosity, free as the morning sparrow, now controlled his body, his action and his mind. A man who was intoxicated with this curiosity. Eyes alight with flamed that burned green at the prospects of finding out something yet untold. Thus, he perhaps ignored his lover somewhat, becoming growingly unaware of her presence and perusing his own agenda relentlessly. A gentleman, perhaps he was when circumstance allowed it. However when the very prospects of knowledge - information of some jubilant nature, despite having perhaps little significance for a man of his sort - came to light, his very nature shifted. He became less of a gentleman and more of a vulture, or a dog, or a rat. Enticed thoroughly by the prospect. Hungering for that knowledge.

“You! You and you. Both of you.” spoke the blonde, thrusting his finger at the two below him,before pausing in a peculiar manner, to say the least. That pause was perhaps the last one Valo would have the pleasure of indulging in, before the great wave of words hit him. The very last pause in which he could condition his mind into a state of acute focus with which he would take the words of the man before him. A predatory focus almost, a craving for the unravelling of this mystery. Who was this man before him? And what was his purpose? And what was the magic that he practised? And with the right payment, would he teach it to Valo? The questions now cast aside in all their foolish nativity.

“So. You think you saw what might have been seen or at least saw a sight worth seeing. That being said, one would argue seeing is believing which is really a feeling I’d be better off relieving you of. So, what you saw was to say what you thought to see when you saw. But without sight, true sight, the slight sight righter than a ‘might’ could be more that you saw what you did not see and saw farther than reality would rather be.”

If the words had been written before him, whether of paper or even by some miraculous ethereal hand of gods who use the skyline as parchment, Valo would have no problem understanding the speech. In fact he found him self wishing that for just a moment, his life could have been a novel and he, the magnificent scarlet haired hero of said novel, could read this chapter over and over again until the words of his opponent were memorised and clear in utmost clarity. That would have made everything a hell of a lot clearer. Life however did not work as such, to his very dismay. life was cruel and convoluted in it's profound complexity and this man before him had a certain way with words. Alas, all the artist could do, was to frantically slow down time in his mind and to revel in the repetition of those very words until the meaning became clear. A simple meaning, dressed in layers and layers of fabric of speech, just like a woman in her desperation to protect her modesty.

"I do not have a clue what he is saying," muttered Weylin by his side, but Valo's ears took no notice of this. He simply drowned her voice out into the background to the best of his ability, struggling to focus purely on the speech of the blonde. A mere hand, raised in a manner to shush her.

With yet another peculiar motion, the blond stranger continued. “No one sees what you saw, not really. So what you saw was no more sight than a slight miscalculation of light imagination. Get what I'm saying?” And as Valo listened with not a motion to his body, not a tremble of lip in order to reply, he began to see patterns in the words. A repetition though which the confusion was achieved. And when he unravelled the repetition and brought it to it's most basic of structure, the meaning behind the words became simple. A rhyming to certain phrases and sentences in an elaborate display of wit. “I mean to say you didn't see what you saw or rather I should begin, what do you think you saw?”

'You're very eyes deceive you. No one will believe this, shall you ever speak of this encounter. No one will.' The phrases formed in Valo's mind. An almost certainty that he understood what the stranger was saying to him. Almost certainty, for nothing was ever certain.

It was only after the great convoluted speech, that Weylin spoke in turn.A shaking of her head, words of rage at the very convoluted nature of said speech. The artist had not reacted however, did not quieten her yet did not take any notice of her words, simply allowing them to pass much like the white clouds would pass across a bright morning sky. No significance of their presence, no apparent effect upon the weather.

He took a moment to repeat everything he heard to himself, the depths of his mind. A mannerism of great thought in his feature, as the lids slid over his eyes and his slender hand travelled towards his face, in an attempt to prop his metaphorical glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Of course Val had never worn glasses and it was perhaps his great childhood wish to own a pair, for it seemed that men who did simply exuded intelligence. Something which he had strived for since the earliest of his years. Mother nature had a different plan for him, gifting the half blood with perfect sight, or perhaps the way he saw it, cursing him with such. And so, in an awkward mannerism, his fingers landed upon the inner most corners of his eyes, rubbing gently in utmost thoughtfulness indeed.

It was only then that a realisation of his own foolishness came over him. A simple realisation, yet such did rarely occur to him. For if the man was to prove hostile, that the worst possible thing that Valo could do was to close his eyes upon the fellow, thus with great haste, he returned to the previous focus. Mind searching for a witty remark that would suit him sell in the situation. But he had been outwitted.

"Pity upon those without the gift of concise speech. Pity indeed for they may slip upon their own words and fall into the void of their own mind, choked by their own confusion, alas, never to return into the world of the sane." he spoke finally and when he did, Valo's words burned much like his eyes, saturated deeply with his profound interest. "Jubilation however, onto those who master such talk and use it as a weapon upon their foes. Tell me good sir, are we foes? Is it fear that keeps you atop that rock?" His words were bold and daring, that was true. And perhaps his intention was not to enrage the stranger, but the knowledge of such an outcome lingered, clear as daylight in the artist's mind. His words were a gamble. A bold gamble, alike many and a vague one. A battle of vague word. "For I speak solemnly, I do not bite my thumb at you sir. Nor do I quarrel. But you are quite the enigma, sir."

What Valo failed to realise however and though no fault of his own, was that it was all a plan to distract them. A simple yet oh so clever distraction and both he and his partner had fallen head first into that very clever trap, without even questioning of it's existence. And they remained so blissfully unaware of the trap and the purpose. So very blissfully unaware, was Valo, now enticed by the stranger.

[Wrenmae]

Caught in the wake of Valo’s words, Zan stared for a moment. His face was paused then, as if the still life of an unstill soul, haphazard grin and glittering eyes. But then he was movement once more, as if he had never stood still, never paused to speak. His limbs moved with more rattle and jostle than a mans should. It was almost as if Zan wanted to shed the form that confined him entirely, was frustrated with the limited means by which he was forced to interact with the world. They could not know, however, that it was exactly the case.

Tugging at his collar, Zan cocked his head at Valo. “Foe? Foooooooooe. No, no sir, no foe indeed. Would I come so willingly to stand, back to cliff, if I intended to do you harm? Why, I am outnumbered, sir…and by a female fleshl-err, a lady to boot. Never would I be so foolish. Besides…” He tapped a finger along the side of his chin, “I carry no weapons save hands, feet, and shirt.” He glared at Valo, tugging at one sleeve of his waveguard uniform, “Never underestimate the power of a uniform. Lesser men have been…” he paused, looking down at it, tugging on a sleeve again and biting his lip. “Erm…strangled? I guess? Maybe hit with one, but I doubt that would be very painful at all. Maybe I should use a shoe as the example.”

He shrugged. “Anyways, my name is Zan, not enigma. I’d say good guess, but you were really…really off base.” Leaning forward with awkward angles and a spasm, Zan ducked his head down, put it up, put it down, then up again, rising uneasily. “Is that how you bow? I always think it should resemble a bow, like on a boat, and so…” he paused again, “Ya know, I don’t even know how I’d mimic that right now. But anyways, I think I nailed it.”

Zan took a step forward, unbalanced, swung around, and then took another, edging around Valo and Weylin. He smiled at them, stretching the confines of his face to almost grotesquely grin. “Smiles put people at ease,” he said with the air of a sage, “So the bigger the smile, the more ease you are being put into….or something.” Beneath them all, Wren clung to the inside of the cliff wall. He hadn’t brought anything with him…none of his weapons, expecting no trouble. But would he have to act? Would he have to kill them?

It wasn’t a thought he entertained for long. Zan was more than distracting enough.

“So lovebirds,” Zan said to the two of them, “What brought you a flap-flap-flappin down to the bay today?” He glanced out to the horse. “Horse needed a bath?”

[Weylin Quickshot]

Weylin sighed deeply, her brow creasing ever more in a growing annoyance. So far the conversation had been way over her head, her mind incapable of keeping up. Fluent words that were incapable of understanding to her ears. Had both spoken slower, and the distance between them been less she would of stood half a chance. She watched the man lurch about, eyes narrowed as she watched the unnerving smile break out upon his face and twittering about it putting at people at ease. If Weylin was to have her own way she would of left the two men to bicker among themselves. But alas, one of them was her partner, and the other seemed a dangerous enigma. Had she understood the conversation, or even what her lover had supposedly seen she too would of joined in. But instead she was merely an onlooker looking in.

She shot a glare on the comment of 'love birds'- understanding that phrase to say the least- and biting her tongue as she resisted making a remark. It was the uniform that made her quiet, even if this Zan staggered about like a drunken fool, he wore the uniform of a Wave Guard. Their buisness was their buisness, not the one of this man.She turned her head away once more, forcing her focus onto Averti before snapping it back to Zan.
"Yes," she responded "A bath, of course."
She exhaled and turned her head to Valo, as words filled sarcasm came from her lips "I'll let you two gentlemen become acquainted whilst I go 'bath' Averti."
For a moment Weylin was silent, but soon she turned away, bare feet crunching on the sand as she walked a small distance away, but close enough still to be in ear shot of them.
So much for spending the day together.
She gave a small shout to Averti, to which his head simply turned to her as he dance about in the waves.
"Averti, enough playing! Come here!" her tongue clicked in Pavi as the stallion for a moment simply stared at her. He gave a snort, and trotted over his dark eyes focusing upon Zan. But despite having her back to them, her head occasionally turning to look at the pair. It was better to be an observer and to ask questions later when there was more time, besides Valo seemed to have control of the situation.
You think so eh?
Well I think he does, he seems able to hold his own with words to say the least.