Closed Horizons in Autumns Light

[Niall Hammerfist]

1st, Fall of 513 A.V.

Niall had been rousted out of a bed this morning. In reality it had been a hospital ash slat cot, but compared to the stones, wet wallows, gullies and dirt he'd been sleeping in since the last leg of his journey from Syliras, it had been paradise. He could still remember what the sheets had felt like, cozy, and without pebbles.

The Isur kicked himself mentally to stop his self-torture, and focused on the task at hand. He had a letter in a small pocket sown into the lining of his shirt that had been burning a hole in his chest since The Spires. He withdrew the oiled and folded parchment that housed what he hoped was still a pristine letter. He inspected it closely taking note of the stains on its surface. There were fold lines, sweat stains, and small splatters of blood. Surely this little piece of parchment was nearly as road worn as his cloak. His poor cloak, Which he lost this morning to the devious university staff nurses.

"This rag is a health hazard! It's a miracle that you’re not suffering from any number of diseases!" The nurse had said as she henned about. She had burned the cloak before him and it had ignited like a piece of flash paper, the flames burning in a myriad of unnatural colors. Niall had stood there dumbstruck. Not ready to guess as to whether it had been a magical fire, or if the garments condition had truly become so foul that it would burn so strangely. Regardless he was out a cloak and the smell of the outside air spoke confidently of an impending end to the warmth that was summer.

The Isur drew his attention back to the letter in his hand and held it to his nose. It still smelled faintly of jungle flowers and the Female Jamoura he had met. It seemed ages had past, though he could still see her face and hear her words. “Promise me young Isur, bring my words to my daughter.” Niall could not forget his revenge, but the Jamoura had seemed very serious, as if some burden rested on her great shoulders. He had promised, and Niall would travel the whole of Mizahar if need be. Though overshadowing that smell was his own musky male odor that just reminded him of home.

I have to find this Savannah Farstar, he thought to himself, his eyes taking one last look at the letter in his hands before sliding it carefully back into his shirt pocket.

The truth was Niall was tired. He hadn’t taken the time to procure clothes or new equipment since he had made his grueling trek out of “The Unforgiving” over a year ago. It was past time to let go of his rags, he knew, but those scraps of clothes were some of the last pieces of his life before.

A vision of his father quenching a sword in oil and grinning at him, flashed through Niall’s head and he shook it to make the memory fade.

Niall sighed heavily as he stood and willed himself to step forward into the bustling market of Zeltiva.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Cross Roads

Niall walked purposefully away from the university, his pack slug casually over his right shoulder. His goal was West Street today, or so all the nurses had told him. His woolen shirt and pants had been washed, though a majority of the stains had remained. The past doesn’t wash away so easily.

"You need new clothes silly man! Our bathing you can only go so far. The moment you step out of these doors you’re on your own!" Their words echoed through the Isur's head as he let his legs carry him south east. The cobblestone streets felt funny to his boots. Niall knew that his knees and legs, which had been so used to walking the open road, would begin to ache if he didn't take it easy today. So he made a mental note that he would need to rest before noonday.

The buildings seemed to follow the main road downhill as he made his way toward the large cross streets that divided east from west Zeltiva. The street was full of bustling people carting goods back and forth for transport by land and sea. A caravan was loading goods bound for Syliras, and the driver was shouting something to his loading workers in a language Niall didn’t recognize. Rare metals, furs, raw leather, pottery. If it was legal trading, Niall watched it get loaded onto a cart.

The smell of the food stalls began to drift up to him and he realized he hadn’t had a freshly cooked meal in what seemed like ages. While he pressed onward, he pulled the pack under his arm and removed one of the last strips of jerky to gnaw on while he walked. The salty flavor it boasted made his mouth tingle in anticipation of good food. He ripped off a tiny bit and began to chew, slinging his bag back over his shoulder. When he lifted his head to better guide his steps, he stopped dead in his tracks, frozen by what his eyes beheld. Before him, its blue waters stretching beyond sight, was the ocean. Ships of all shapes and sizes seemed to glide across the waters, their gossamer sails taught with the wind that filled them. How could I have missed that? He asked himself as he stared, mouth agape.

He stood looking absently as the waves pressed in and out of the bay, the shore rising on either side of its waters. Without thinking he tried to bring the strip of jerky in his hand to his mouth again for another bite and he somehow poked himself in the cheek. His attention brought back to the present Niall made another mental note to spend some time actually looking at the ocean while he was in Zeltiva. Finding renewed focus and vigor he turned and strode into the Market.

[Vernadel]

Vernadel When she opened the main door to the University's dormitory building, Vernadel was shocked at the sight of the hustle and bustle of the city crowd. She had gotten to Zeltiva late last night, when the streets were fairly quiet, and she hadn't been expecting such a chaotic scene this morning. She flopped down in the doorway, spending a moment to take it all in. Okay, Vern, she told herself. You just have to move with the crowd. They're like a school of fish...or a flock of birds. But, as she scrutinized the sea the people of, she realized it was not nearly as organized. Everyone was milling about in their own direction, sometimes bumping into one another, each concentrating on their own individual tasks. Another student tapped her on the shoulder, irritated that she was blocking the way out of the school. Vernadel gave him a shy smile and moved forward, launching herself into the sky and hovering above the disorderly crowd. A few of the city residents tilted their heads to look up at her and Vern's instinct was to turn around and rush back to her dorm room. She felt like a carnival curiosity on display. No where could she see another Akvatari, but then, she had been expecting that. She had been warned this would happen. Vernadel took a deep breath and held it for a moment. What was that she smelled? The sea! Perhaps she could find new pearls, shells, or sea glass to make into jewelry. Vern gathered her courage and followed the salty scent, soaring over the heads of the helter-skelter masses. Her dark bluish-black tail swung lazily below her as she flew towards the docks. She dipped lower as she caught sight of the ships, a sense of urgency propelling her on. When Vern spotted the water, she clasped her hands together in excitement. One of the natural charms on her left bracelet caught in the strings of her right one and when Vernadel shifted her hands, the string broke. A slew of pearls fell off of the string, tumbling down onto the head of a man just below her. Vern squeaked and pressed her fingers to her mouth, hovering awkwardly in place as she looked at her fallen pearls. The man had an unusual looking arm, and he was also very muscular. Vernadel's big eyes opened even wider as she contemplated what to do next.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall had passed several shops with garments and the like but nothing had caught his eye. A doubt was beginning to form in his mind. It had been so long since he had bought something as simple as clothes that he wondered whether or not he could.

Just as he was re-considering his choice of destinations, he felt several small light objects bounce off the crown of his head. He jumped without thinking, his body quickly dropped into a fighting stance. His right hand gripped tightly around his sword hilt.

He forced his concious mind to the surface and realized what had bounced off his head was some sort of gem. Not some raider trying to kill him, or a wild animal looking for a meal. He laughed nervously at himself as he realized his right hand gripped the hilt of his sword with white knuckles. He relaxed, exhaling softly and looked at the ground spotting the luminescant little stones that seemed to shine warmly in the morning light.

They reminded Niall of the glistenning on a cut of Ham, or sugar as it dissolved in milk. He knelt down to inspect one closer and gently picked one up in his right hand, holding it up to see the light behind it. It caught the light and he pondered its shape. It seemed organic. It certainly wasn't like any gem he'd ever seen before. Not that he'd spent much time to stop and watch the grass since he had begun his journey in Kalea.

That was when he saw what had dropped the curious stones. Hovering above him, in what appeared to be a state of concern mixed with embarrassment, was a most curious yet beautiful creature. Niall cocked his head to the side as he watched this lithe woman hover.

Gossamer wings the color of an evening sky after a storm flitted purposefully holding her aloft. Her wild hair and tail were a dark color that reminded Niall of Black Onyx, which her slightly golden tanned skin seemed to contrast. A cut of bright turquoise colored cloth protected her bosom from prying eyes. Her eyes though, were dark and deep. Niall had seen chasms in the darkness that those eyes would casually have swallowed in their depths. Glass, the shells of mollusks, and many more charms strung beaded through her hair. Her body seemed littered with exotic jewelry. Bracelets, and bangles clung loosely to her wrists.

That was when he noticed the loose peice of string she clasped in her hands. It was all Niall could do to avoid forming a giant "O" with his mouth. He took a deep breath and knelt again. Gently plucking each pearl from the ground about his feet. Tenderly he placed each into his black left hand, taking care not to drop them or crush them. When he was certain that none remained, he stood slowly and pushed a few about in the palm of his left hand, with his right hand index finger.

"Good morning," Niall said casually in common, as he grinned against the morning light in his eyes. "I think you dropped these?"

He held his dark left arm aloft, the pearls resting safely in the cup he formed with his hand.

[Vernadel]

Vernadel Vernadel almost fled as the strange man, looking somewhat human, but not quite, tensed and prepared himself for an attack. She felt terrible about scaring him and certainly did not want to wait around for the repercussions. But those pearls were ones she collected on the beaches of Abura and to lose them would be to lose some of the few items she had from home. She watched the man's body relax as he stooped to inspect her pearls and she let herself breathe again. She stared at the top of his tangled, orange-blonde hair, wild and free. The muscles in his shoulders could be seen through the rags he wore. His clothes were stained, but looked fairly clean. His left arm was as dark as her own tail but its silvery veins glinted and shimmered, like an Akvatari's wings. She froze when he looked up at her, only moving her wings to keep herself in the air. His face seemed kind, though, if a little tired and worn out. He bent back down and, floating a little lower, Vernadel wondered whether she should help him pick up her white stones. However, before she reached the ground, he had gathered all of the pearls in his black, silver-streaked hand and held them up to her. She swallowed as he questioned her and lowered herself to the ground carefully. Vern did not even come up to the man's chest, as her full length was shortened considerably when standing. Her tail stuck out behind her and she hoped no one would trample over her fins. She glanced up into the man's eyes as she balanced there and then let her eyes slide to his hand cupping her pearls. "I did drop those," she confessed, speaking the Common language as well. "And, I-I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." She was a little hesitant herself, to touch the man's discolored arm, because it was strange to her. She could vaguely recall seeing a being like him once, a trader if she remembered correctly, in Abura, but that man had been much shorter. Vernadel was certain, though, that she looked just as odd to him. "Thank you," she said, reaching her own slender fingers out and curling them around the spherical pearls in his hand. His skin felt like it should, but his hand was so large and molded with muscles, she knew it could probably choke her with one squeeze. She attempted a small smile and bowed her head over the pearls. "These are meaningful to me and I appreciate you giving them back." Though, now that she had them back, she was not sure exactly what to do with them, having left her tortoise shell sack in her dorm room. "Excuse me," she said, turning her back to the man. Gripping the top of the band that covered her chest, she pulled it out slightly and stuffed the pearls and the broken string down between her breasts. That would have to suffice for now. She reversed her turn until she was facing the man again, her dark eyes silently thanking him anew.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall watched as she descended to the ground to take the shiny stones from him. Her fall was strangely elegant, like a leaf on the wind, and he caught himself thinking he was in a dream again. When on the ground she was smaller than he had first thought, and the crowds of people seemed unconcerned with the well-being of her tail. He frowned at the throng, but was not surprised at their indifference. Niall moved to shield her from the crowd’s movements. After receiving a few rude comments the crowd began to flow around them, like the water around a stone in a river.

He knelt back down so they could see eye to eye. It felt good to take a knee. He hadn’t walked far, but he could feel the cobble stones through his worn out boots. Niall made a mental note to make sure he got something to replace the rags he called foot coverings. Probably the number one thing he had to fix, without a good pair of walking boots travel would be useless, and he didn’t know how much farther he had to go.

Niall found her admittance of her clumsiness endearing, and refreshing. It felt like a long time since someone had admitted anything to him. His jaded heart warmed slightly at her gesture. The world was a cruel place, and to find one humble enough to admit fault seemed a rare thing indeed.

He noticed that she hesitated to touch his gifted arm. Niall couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, though it brought his own views of her into perspective a bit. His mental complications evaporated when she touched his hand. He had expected her to hold out her hands for him to drop them into, but she had touched him. Her hand felt warm when she scooped the cool stones from his hand. His breath briefly caught in his chest. When had been the last time he had touched someone. Kalea? Jamoura? He couldn’t remember.

It was the memory of Jamoura that got him thinking about the letter again and he compulsively touched his chest over the pocket where it rested.

Niall blushed when he realized where she had dropped her stones to keep them safe, and found it hard to wipe the heat from his cheeks when she turned around. Instead he simply coughed once and smiled. His face was young, yet his genuine grin touched his eyes in a way that seemed old. Her eyes told more than words could as he could see the graciousness in them.

“I was glad to help.” He said his grin lessening somewhat to a small knowing smile. “I understand what it means to have something precious, and the fear of losing it.” His face became briefly grave and his eyes glassy, as the memory of some far away sorrow gripped him. He shook away the feeling and tried to smile again, though it felt a little forced. “So what brings you to the Market?”

[Vernadel]

Vernadel It was pleasing to meet someone so chivalrous after her long, hard journey to Zeltiva. Vernadel's inhibitions about the man with the discolored arm dissolved the instant that he helped protect her from the crowd and stooped to one knee to look her in the face. His grin morphed into a grieving expression and Vern's heart reached out to him. It was a harsh world in which a man so amiable had to suffer. HIs visible attempts at geniality once again confirmed her impressions of him. "I've only just arrived here," she told him. "To be a student at the University." She raised one shoulder up to her chin in a shy motion. "I'm an artist, a painter. This is the first time I've ever left home..." Vern looked in the direction of the University. She hadn't really gotten the warm welcome she had been expecting from the staff or other students at the Living Quarters. But, it was still early yet. "My classes start in a few days." Glancing back at the tall man, Vernadel smiled. "My name is Vernadel," she said. "I don't know if you've ever met an Akvatari before (it seems that most people off my home island haven't) but, well, that's what I am. I'm very pleased to meet you..." she trailed off, waiting to learn his name.

[Niall Hammerfist]

She was a student, an artist. He had been told that in Sultros there were artists with such skill that they could create statues so life-like that their works seemed alive. He cocked his head at the mention of the word painter. Such a thing was unknown to him.

She was a traveler a visitor from Akvatar. Niall searched his memory for a snippet of text, or a book he might have read. He remembered seeing it on a map once but beyond that he could recall nothing. When she asked his name, he realized he had forgotten to give it.

“My name is Niall Hammerfist, son of Sulos.” He touched his right hand to his heart in a gesture, and bowed his head to her, lightly closing his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Vernadel.” When he lifted his head, his smile had grown somewhat pleased to have had such kind words from her.

“Akvatar,” he said, his voice a contemplative low tone. “I seem to remember that being South of Zeltiva.” His eyes flicked up as he recalled the old musty scrap of parchment he had seen. When he could see it in his head he looked upon her face again. “I am delighted to have met an artist in my travels. There are many artists in Sultros who carve stone or forge metal. Though I must admit I have never met one.”

A passersby began yelling at them for sitting in the middle of the busy market street. Niall’s face grew sour and he stood to his full height as he glared at the man. His eyes reflected no fear in them, but a instead, the grim truth that he had seen blood spilled, and not just his own. The man seemed to shrink slightly and he moved on.

“I think it best if we move Miss Vernadel. There was some sort of eatery nearby with seats and I could do with some breakfast. The road has not been kind to me and I would relish some food that didn’t run from me, or lie for weeks in my pack before I ate it.” He knelt again and held out his arms. “I could carry you if you like. “

Niall was definitely not prepared. He had his Miza’s in his pouch but he could not recall a day so strange. Ever since he had gotten to Zeltiva, the harsh reality that the outside world had changed his perspectives on life permanently was setting in like storm clouds on the horizon. Though, this was no storm cloud looking him in the face. This was a light, a dawning from the long night. Or so he hoped.

[Vernadel]

Vernadel Niall Hammerfist, Vernadel mused. At once a soft and strong name. She lowered her head and peered at him through her eyelashes when he bowed to her. Vern returned his smile, but, after being jostled by somebody from behind, scrunched her face up in frustration. "Oh, Akvatar," she said wistfully. "Yes, it's south and west of Zeltiva. Off the coasts of Cyphrus and Eyktol, if you know those regions. My mother, she is a sculptor and would fit in well in Sultros. But I work with canvas and brushes." Vernadel reached up and took a lock of her hair between her fingers. She waved the ends at Niall. "I make brushes from my hair. I'm not a master yet, but that's why I'm taking classes; to improve my skills." A man suddenly began yelling at them and Vern cringed, leaning reflexively toward the muscular man that had so far shown her such kindness. When he offered to carry her to a nearby eatery, Vernadel was only a little surprised. Niall Hammerfist was incredibly gallant. Though she could have flown, Vern decided to graciously accept the man's offer. "If I get heavy, please tell me," she implored as she put her own arms out toward him. "I can fly if I need to, but I really appreciate this. I move so awkwardly on land." Luckily, Vernadel always twined some coins in her hair for emergencies, so at least she had a few mizas on her. Besides, she became aware that her own stomach was rumbling a bit, as she hadn't eaten in many hours. Vern put her hands on Niall's broad, defined shoulders just as another man bumped into her side. Yes, there was no better time than now to get off of the streets.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall didn’t waste any time. When Vernadel agreed to allow him to pick her up, he scooped her up easily as she leaned in to him. He lifted her up in his arms spreading her weight between them, shifting till he felt comfortable with it. When her weight was centered against his chest he raised his left arm beneath her to prop up her back, lifting her shoulder above his own so she could put her arm around the back of his neck to steady herself.

“Are you ok?” he said as a waft of what he could only assume was her scent drifted to his nose. It reminded Niall of summertime. Almost like water, and grass on the wind, or freshly washed sheets. He smiled at her briefly before focusing his attention on the river of people moving through the market blocking their path to the eatery.

When she was ready Niall took a deep breath, and pushed his way gently through the crowd. His eyes followed many people as they moved; some darting, some walking, or lumbering. At times he moved with them, at others against them, though at each turn he watched for an opportunity, an opening to move freely through the crowd.

“So a university student, eh?” He said a tone of slight amusement in his voice. “I would avoid the infirmary if I were you. It’s hard to get attention there.” He said, as he skillfully dodged an ox cart laden with cloth on its way toward the docks. After a stressful exhalation he continued talking in an attempt to distract himself as well as Vernadel from the very near peril they almost experienced. “When I got to this city I was in pretty rough shape. I had gotten low on provisions-“A lady in an apron waved a live chicken in his face as it clucked angrily and flapped its wings forcing him to duck slightly out of the way.

“-and I had just found a nice rock to prop myself up to, to rest. When I reached for my water skin I found it had a hole in it.” A couple of Waveguard were headed their way and he whirled slowly on his feet to avoid them and bumped into someone on his round about, upon which he apologized. “Pardon me sir.” He called over the din of voices and feet. It seemed as though the crowd was getting thicker. How was that possible? “Needless to say dehydration was a problem. I was having a hard time moving.”

Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead as Niall stepped lightly out of the way of a street performer juggling knives. He gave him as wide a berth as he could. “I had long since closed my eyes to the heat of the day, when a couple of Waveguard had come for me on the road, and there I was planning to crawl the 3 miles or so to the gate. Some pilgrims whose wagon I’d fixed had told them that I had fallen on the road. But when I opened my eyes I saw someone I didn’t expect.” He said almost absentmindedly as he ducked under a load of wood a pair of men were hauling down to the Docks.

He considered telling her that he had seen his father, an Isur who had been dead for over a year, but he thought better of it. No need for her to think he was crazy. After all he hadn’t seen him since, which was a good thing. “They took me to the Infirmary in the University. The nurses ignored me, and it was as if a cup of water was a taboo thing to ask for.” He said, a sarcastic smile forming on his lips.

The sweat was beginning to soak his eyebrows, only to trickle down his nose and he would blow at the little dropets in an attempt to keep them away from the sensitive tip.

“So what is a painter?” He asked. His mind had boggled over the word. He was unsure of what it was. Or what it meant. “I’ve never heard of a painter before. Then again growing up in a mining camp in the buttock end of Kalea doesn’t give one a broad view of the world.” He said with a little chuckle in his throat. Just as it seemed the crowd would swallow them, Niall stumbled over the first step that led onto the outside patio of the Eatery.

Suddenly it was as if the crowd had disappeared, though he could still hear them. Niall turned around to see the path they had trod. Before them the crowd swarmed like a colony of angry ants, and Niall wondered how he had managed to navigate the river of Bodies that Zeltiva’s morning market represented. “Now that’s something to see.” He said a look of incredulous satisfaction on his face.

He looked up into her face so pretty and clean, so close to his own sweaty mess, and he had a moment of brief eye contact before he blushed briefly again, and cleared his throat with a short cough. “I apologize, here I am babbling like a brook.” He said as he slowly lowered her into a wooden chair. “Please tell me of you travels. I’ve never been south of Zeltiva.” He sat down opposite her at the little dining table, his eyes searching for a server with a water pitcher.