PM to join Bone Fire [Vernadel,+]

[Niall Hammerfist]

5th of Fall 513 AV. The sun was setting lazily on the horizon as Niall walked along the quiet beach. The ocean slid up its sandy length in long drawn out rushes. It was as if the ocean was breathing, and his head rested upon her breast. He wore the new clothes he’d purchased in the market that evening. Fine cloth, leather, and metal plates rested lightly on his frame. A gentle breeze coaxed the hem of his cloak serenely, and Niall was struck by how perfect this moment was for what he needed to do. The sand made a grinding sound under Niall’s boots as he walked. It didn’t sound like the silty grit he found at a rivers edge. This was very different. In the near distance he could see the masts of the ships docked in Zeltiva Harbor. The occasional boat headed out to sea, its sail filled with wind as it glided away to shores unknown to him. His pack felt heavier than usual, which was odd. It didn’t carry any more or any less than it had before. Though, it felt as if it were a great burden upon his tired shoulders. He could feel the weight of what was left of his father’s arm. It was just a lump of Iron now, waiting for Niall to shape it into an instrument of his vengeance. As he made his trek through the sand, he passed near a peninsula of loamy dirt that extended out into the sand. Its top was covered in a matt of hardy looking grass that grew low to the ground. He knelt near its edge and grasped at a tuft of grass feeling its hard texture. Yes, this would do. he thought to himself his eyes appraising the small peninsula of loamy dirt that had wandered its way out into the sandy beach. The Isur took a large step that raised him onto the solid ground above the sand and he took one last look at his surroundings. The grassy roll of the hills behind him, beyond the beach head, made a fair wind break. The ever present sea in front of him made him calm. Zeltiva to the north, and the rock formations to the south that made travel difficult gave him a feeling of safety. Though, Niall knew that Mizahar was full of false securities. His thoughts were ablaze with anticipation of the evening’s events. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed mead, and he’d found a bottle in the market today. He removed his cloak and laid it out on the grass. His pack, he un-looped from his shoulders and laid it down with his cloak. He folded the cloak up and stuffed it into the pack to keep it safe, or to use later. When it looked secure he stood up and began to search for drift wood. Bits of plank from a ship, fallen lumber, and dried sea grass were all about. Niall gathered what he could. The drift wood in his arms was dry and held odd shapes. They had likely been on the beach for years, and Niall felt a twinge of guilt bringing them to their end. Though he knew he would need the flames tonight. He laid the wood down in a neatly organized pile on the little berm overlooking the sea, and started a search for stones to build a ring. Before long, Niall had created a 1 meter diameter fire ring. The large stones were clean and smelled salty. The sand was still warm when he struck flint to tinder, tinder to starter, starter to kindling, and kindling to logs, just as he had many times before. The fire crackled merrily as Niall sat on a large log of driftwood he had dragged to the fires edge to sit with a view of the ocean. He gnawed on a bit of jerky pensively. His eyes looked far away, where his mind was dwelling. Somewhere in his past a wrong had been done. A wrong that demanded justice! His attention crashed back to reality like so many cresting waves in the sea. His eyes travelled up past Zeltiva’s main dock and he cast an appraising eye upon the Denvali Quarter. Somewhere hidden in amongst the innocent, his quarry lay. Living their lives free of guilt over what they had done. But that would have to wait. Tonight he would honor the ones he left behind. He dragged his bag close to him and unstrapped the top flap. Lifting the flap of leather over he looked at his meager possessions, and took what he needed. A sharpening stone, his old ragged clothes, some oil he bought in the market that day, and his crowned jewel, in the form of a jug of mead, were withdrawn in turn and laid to rest at his feet. The young Isur heaved a long sigh and took the brown jug of mead by its hanging loop. With some loving persuasion by Nialls teeth, the cork in the top pulled out with a loud pop. He spat the cork into his hand and pocketed it for later, knowing he may have to replace it. He wiped the lid of any grit or dirt that might have been there, each circle of his finger making that soft rubbing sound of flesh on glazed ceramic. At last he took a shallow mouthful of the golden elixir. The tanginess of the fermented honey struck first loudly on his sensitive palette. Eventually the undertones of the clover and lemon followed. He sighed softly as the tangy liquor stung his tongue and savored the mouthful he had taken. It had been a long time. Not wanting to waste time, he drew his sword and looked down its edge toward the fire. He searched vigilantly for imperfections in the blades edge. It looked worn evenly along the blade, which made sense. He had not had the need to use it for some time. Though the young Isur knew that he had neglected the blade in his travels, and tonight he would remind the piece of steel that he still cared for it. He sliced a sleeve away from his old clothes and applied a conservative amount of oil to his new rag. With great care he oiled the blade, giving the steel a soft sheen in the firelight. When the blade had been oiled properly he lay the rag down on what was left of his own clothes, and picked up the sharpening stone. He felt the grit with his thumb, testing to be sure it was of a certain fineness. A sudden wave of sorrow washed over him and his shoulders slumped. He missed his father. He had been a hard man to know, but he knew that his father had loved him. Niall took a deep breath and squared his shoulders bringing the sharpening stone to the edge of the sword blade. With a long draw he brought the stone along the edge of the blade. The grind of stone on steel sang into the twilight.

[Vernadel]

Parting some long strands of kelp, Vernadel propelled herself through the waves, enjoying the tickle of the bubbles on her arms and torso. She flicked her wings in order to maneuver through the water, skimming along the silty bottom. Skittering sea creatures hurried to get out her way as she swam, mingling with the sand and pebbles stirred up by the moving liquid.

The sky was beginning to get dark and Vern had been asked to meet Niall at dusk. She flipped onto her back and let herself rise to the surface, relaxing in the water as if it were her bed back in her dorm room. The Akvatari spit a tiny geyser upward and used her wings to move lazily around as she marveled at the colorful streaks that shot across the evening sky.

Suddenly, a sharp ting could be heard in the stillness and Vernadel flipped tail over head, twisting her body to face the beach. She squinted in the dying light and could make out a hunched figure perched near a fire. Even from that distance, she knew it was her beloved Isur friend, Niall, as the flames highlighted his new clothes and glossy arm. He was sharpening a long blade against a stone. Vern ducked underwater and swam toward the beach, grabbing a fish the length of her forearm as it darted past her.

Clutching the wriggling form tightly between her fingers, the Akvatari changed direction and headed slowly toward the surface of the sea once more. Her head and shoulders broke through the water silently and her eyelashes dripped with saltwater as she opened her large, dark eyes, and stared at the man on the beach.

Niall's shoulders rippled subtly as he worked his sword on the rock and Vernadel felt her own shiver of anticipation run through her. His hair settled around his shoulders, looking all the more orange in the light of the fire. Swallowing hard, Vern eyed the flames that gyrated up into the air. Though small now, she knew how fast they could gain destructive power, burning with their incredible heat. She crept forward until her tail touched the sand in the now shallow water, and balancing in the tide, she reached the still flopping fish behind her head and flung it toward the fire and the man.

As the fish wiggled in the sand, Vern waited in the water, her head and shoulders still being the only parts of her that were exposed. Her natural tendency to rush upon Niall the instant she saw him was hampered by her fear of the fire that taunted her wickedly with its dancing light.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall was inspecting a nick in the blade of his sword when a large fish landed near the fire with a soft thump. He stared at the flopping fish, a look of confusion on his face. For the briefest of moments he looked up into the sky expecting more of the lively morsels to fall. Though the now dimming light of the evening yielded no such strangeness. He reasoned then that it must have come from the sea. That could mean only one thing. His companion had arrived. He rested his sword against his shoulder and peered into the dimming twilight. The light of the fire didn’t help his eyes to adjust, but he thought he could see a familiar form bobbing in the shallow water. He stepped to the far side of the fire to let his eyes adjust to the growing darkness. His silhouetted figure cast a long shadow along the sandy beach. With narrowed eyes he squinted into the twilight. Floating in the shallows he saw her. It seemed to Niall, as he watched his companion float on the tides, that Vernadel appeared more beautiful in the water. After all it was her element. With a grin he speared the fish with his sword to end its suffering and laid its cool body out on the stones that circled the fire. With great respect to the metal he bore he wiped it clean of blood and grit from the fish and sheathed it in its scabbard. Curiously he thought of Vernadel, why had she not joined him in the light and warmth of the fire. He looked to her in the water as she continued to eye him with hesitant eyes. She was too far away to know what was wrong. I’ll just have to go to her. he thought to himself. He unlaced his boots and kicked them off near the wooden log, a reasonable distance from the fire. With his feet bare and his sword safely in its sheath, he strode bravely to the water’s edge. He watched the tide rush up and greet his toes with warm wetness. He watched it harmlessly rise to his ankles and, emboldened he strode forward into the rising tide. Niall had never been in the ocean before and with no light showing where the deep water was Niall didn’t notice the sand shelf in the beach. The unexpected step down sent the Isur awkwardly down into the water with a splash, though as his forward foot hit the bottom he didn’t panic knowing that the ground was still there. The water soaked his leathers and his tunic and shirt. He could only imagine how silly he looked. But his friend needed coaxing it seemed. As fortune would have it he still managed to hold his sheathed sword high over his head. Slowly he surfaced a soaking wet mess. His hair clinging in a tangled blonde mess down his face and neck, he found his eyes burned with the water. The discomfort made him keep them shut. “Vernadel? Where are you? I can’t see. The water burns my eyes.” Niall hadn’t expected this. The water was like fire to his eyes. He had never found fresh water to do this! He felt compromised and vulnerable. The thought of either being true bothered Niall immensely. “Vern help!” His voice a desperate plea. He grasped at the air and water, searching for his friend.

[Vernadel]

Vernadel stared at Niall's elongated shadow as he looked out at her, willing herself to focus on the dark form instead of the ever growing flames. As he drove his sword through the flopping fish, she disappeared beneath the waves again, to find more scaly morsels for nourishment.

It was dark under the surface of the sea, and Vern spread her hands out in front of her, her muscles taut and ready to close around anything that swam by. A small fish found its way in between her fingers and the Akvatari snapped her fist closed, trapping the wriggling creature within. Her stomach churned with hunger as she thought about how tasty this fish was, and she was about to just pop it into her mouth when she heard someone calling, faintly.

Halting her movements, Vernadel hovered motionless a few feet from the surface and tried to listen. The sound was muffled from the water, but it was deep and sounded panicky. Niall? She kicked her tail hard and came up out of the sea in an instant.

A murky shape was moving about not too far from her, but it was much to small to be an Isur. Vern swam closer and spotted Niall's muscular forearms gripping a sheathed sword high above his head. She ducked just in time as he swung out blindly, calling her name, searching for her.

"I'm here!" she said. Releasing the lucky fish from her grip, Vernadel moved into Niall's path carefully, and pressed a palm to the material at his stomach. "I'm right here," she soothed, her mouth close to his ear. "It's alright. You're fine." Niall's eyes were clenched tightly shut and Vern took her other hand and passed it over the lids, trying to wipe some of the salt water away. While she was at it, she delicately swept a few wet strands off of his handsome features too, letting her fingers graze against his cheekbones a little too long.

"Niall," she said softly, "just stay calm. Bear with me." Vern propelled herself backwards a little and up out of the water. She flicked her wings dry and positioned herself behind her friend. Reaching under his armpits with her hands, she tried to twist his body so that it would be facing the beach again.

"Turn around slowly," she instructed, trying to keep her voice light so that Niall would not be afraid. Her tail moved behind his legs, enough to let him know that she was right there, supporting him. "Just step forward now, carefully," she urged, hoping actually that he didn't, because she wouldn't mind staying there pressed up against him for an eternity.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall fumbled awkwardly in the water as he fought with a forceful wave. He felt the wave pick him up and he lost his footing a moment only to feel a gentle hand press against his belly. “I’m here!” came the familiar voice of his friend. For some reason the wave seemed a small thing in that moment and he relaxed so completely in the embrace of that wave that he barely felt his feet connect with the sandy bottom. That moment taught him something very important about the ocean. Don’t fight the water if you don’t have to. Niall felt a strange peace in that instant as he heard the waves rush up the shore. “I’m right here,” She said soothingly and the young Isur felt as though he might simply lay back and let go, the water was welcome to carry him wherever it wanted. “It’s alright. You’re fine.” She whispered in his ear. The sensation reminded him of a memory long gone. A bright meadow in the mountains at the height of summer, and a blanket spread out on the mossy grass and rocks. The woman he saw in his dreams seemed real again for an instant and he nearly spoke her name. He managed to transform his whisper to a sigh of relief. He felt the tender hand of the Akvatari wipe away the salty water from his eyes. In that instant Niall was struck by how much care and concern his friend showed toward him. He owed his little one so much. He felt unworthy of such care. He felt her sweep away a few random strands of hair and tuck them behind his ear. Her hand brushed against his cheek and he opened his eyes carefully to look at her. He wasn’t sure if the water on his cheeks were droplets of sea water or his tears. He could feel them flowing from the corners of his eyes warmly, soothing the irritation in them. Though somewhere inside him he felt those tears held more meaning than just the irritation he felt from the sea water. Secretly he hoped that the night concealed his sorrow. As Vernadels hand touched his cheek, he reached for that lingering hand, but by the time he was close to grasping for it, it had gone and Vernadel was positioning herself to help him back to shore. She turned him about so he could see the fire again, and he felt instantly safer for some reason. Fire was always a friend and ally against the cold, against the wilds, against death and darkness. She coaxed him forward carefully and he let the waves push him along with his friend. He chuckled softly at the irony of it. “And here I thought I was going to be the one to help you onto the beach.” He could not hide the genuine warmth in his voice. It wasn’t long before Niall found the sandbar and he stood out of the water on his own two feet. The water was only about knee high to him at that point. When Vernadel released him from her tender guiding grip he reached out to capture her hand. When he found it he held it tightly. “Well little Adel?” he said shortening her name in an attempt at giving Vernadel a nickname that might stick. “Shall we brave onward?” He waited patiently for her response. He knew that if she accepted he would offer to carry her to the fireside. If she refused he would wait with her there until she was ready. ‘Fear is something to be defeated son.’ Niall heard his father’s words echoing in his head. He thought if him now and wondered what he might think of him. Would he approve of consorting on with an Akvatari. In truth, the young Isur didn’t care. If his father disapproved he knew that it was not his decision. He had taught him to be brave and of a strong will. His travels had left him with a mind of Mizahar. The world outside the Kingdom of Sultros was full of wonder and amazement. One could embrace this fact and allow the world its diversity, or struggle against it and be worn away by it. Patiently he held her hand, and waited.

[Vernadel]

It was such a relief to hear Niall Hammerfist chuckle for it had pained her mercilessly to see him afraid and panicked. He was so strong and valiant, and this new vulnerability both terrified her and drew her even closer to him. Vern, for her part, smirked when he said that his intention had been to bring her on to the beach. He knew her so well already, that he must have predicted there was a reason for her hesitation to come to him.

Once Niall was out of danger, Vernadel let go of him and fluttered by his side, her tail still trailing in the water. When the Isur trapped her hand in his, she smiled warmly at him, but her heart began to race at the thought of going closer to the fire. Normally, she would follow him anywhere, but the climbing flames that they approached now were sinister in their searing blaze. She trembled slightly as she hovered next to her friend and gripped his hand even tighter. Tilting her head to look up and into his face, the Akvataris ears were assaulted by the crackle of burning wood and brush which just made her shake with fear even more.

"The fire," she said, her dark eyes boring into his. "The fire..." How to explain that the flames were mortal foes of her natural elements? That the heat and light burned her nerves, as the saltwater had just burned Niall's eyes. Yet, the Isur had faced his fear just now, to go to her, and she would not leave him, not now. Preferably, not ever.

"You can control it?" she asked, moving closer to him still, her wings beating just enough to keep her aloft. She trusted him, that much was certain, trusted him implicitly. It was time to repress her anxiety, for he would never let the flames get close enough to her to do any damage. Niall would protect her with his solid arm, his blade, and his skillful hands. After all, he had made this fire, he could surely keep it contained and if need be, douse it.

Her decision made, Vernadel pressed forward and wrapped her arms around Niall's neck in one fluid motion. She gazed out at the ever darkening horizon over his shoulder as her heart beat rapidly, in time with the crackle of the fire. As she settled herself against his torso, she felt bad that his new clothes had gotten wet. She was sure the water, and especially the salt, would not be great for the leather. Perhaps it would dry quickly near the fire and be alright.

"Let us go," she whispered, and shut her eyes tight, reflecting on how much she had grown and learned since arriving in Zeltiva, a mere handful of days ago.

[Niall Hammerfist]

Niall had managed to capture her small hand in his. He watched her flutter at his side tethered by their tenuously clasped hands. He saw her gaze as it traveled from the dark ocean where he knew she must have felt safe, and the crackling fire where her face showed concern. The idea of fire being dangerous wasn’t strange to Niall. His experience with hot metal and forges had bludgeoned the fear from him, to the point where a roaring fire made him feel safe. He used his free hand to push his hair back and he felt a shiver run up his spine as the cooling water ran in little rivulets down his back. He could see her clearer now. Her wing beats drove a breeze over his wet clothes cooling them further. He longed for that fire now. Wishing they were just a little closer. He watched the leaping flames now, a dancing friend waiting with her warm embrace. "The fire," Vernadel spoke. Her words drew his attention back to her and his eyes met her dark gaze. The fire light glinted softly in the dark pools of her eyes. "The fire..." Niall listened, his head cocked slightly to one side. She was terrified of the fire? The idea astounded him, though he understood why. Fire was alive and didn’t like being controlled. It consumed all in its path. If she was so afraid, Niall found it odd that she did not flee from him and his flames. Something must be anchoring her here, but he couldn’t think what that might be. When she asked the young Isur if he could control the flames he nodded thoughtfully responding with “To a point. I’m no Reimancer but I know how to build a fire safely.” He smiled confidently which stung his eyes a little. “Come, I’ll show you.” He said giving her small hand a gentle tug. When she nodded consent he let go and was surprised when she wrapped her arms around his neck, which made him laugh loudly. He could not contain his grin at the fact that she had grown to understand him and his comfort at carrying her weight to the point that it had become an expectation. He wrapped his arms around her hips and let her two oddly shaped feet hang down over his arms. Seeing she was secure he trod forward through the water. Eventually they crossed the washing of the tides and he sighed softly at the thought of leaving the water. It was strange he felt such an attachment to the ocean. His introverted thoughts made him smile. He felt it was Vernadels actions in the water that made him feel almost eager to go back in. He spoke softly to her in an effort to lull her into a stronger sense of security. “It’s not what I thought it would be Adel. The sea.” He let the words hang there as he considered the feeling of rising bodily, buoyed up by the water. “Thank you.” He said. As they neared the fire he could feel the heat of it begin to touch his cold arms and face. He was sure that the Akvatari in his arms must have felt it by now and he sought to keep her calm. “It’s alright Adel. The fire won’t hurt you. Respect its power and it will be your ally. Just like the sea. She is powerful too. I could feel it in the waves.” He said confidently as he strode to the log where he had left his gear, and his boots. “I’m going to put you down now behind a log near the fire. The log and I will block you from the flames. I promise you will be safe.” He said softly. “If you feel safe enough, you’re welcome to sit next to me.” With his promise still lingering on his lips he leaned forward and lay her down gently in a soft patch of grass behind the log where he was sitting before. As he stood slowly Niall revelled in the heat the fire made, warming him and drying his clothes. He sighed knowing he would dry out faster if he removed some of them. He looked at his vest and unbuttoned it at the chest, sliding it off his wet shirt. With his coat folded over his arm he unlaced his shirt and drew it over his shoulders exposing his skin. The occasional scar shown in the fire light, a glossy sheen against his matte pale skin. For a moment he felt embarrassment for his scars. The thought of them exposed to his friend made him reconsider whether or not he should be exposing himself in such a way. He sighed, weighing the pros and cons in his head. Ultimately he decided there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t want Vernadel to see. With great care he laid them to rest on an unused section of the sitting log. The heat from the fire licked at his bare chest now. Pale skin, and silvery veins running through it all. His black arm glinted glossily in the firelight. He was in a divine place. He sighed happily feeling the warmth re-enter his limbs. Now all he need do was switch out his pants. He looked over his shoulder at Vernadel who he suspected had been watching him this whole time. “I need a moment of privacy. No peeking now.” He said as he began to undo his belt. His pants loose at the hips he crouched down and picked up his old stained woollens off of the ground and hung them over his broad left shoulder. Gently he peeled the wet leathers from his legs and laid them next to his coat. As quickly as he could manage he slipped the old woollens on and laced them tightly. They were very comfortable. “Ok you can look now.” He prayed silently that he had not destroyed the poor woman’s innocence. He knew nothing could be done about it now, so he turned his attention to the fish on the rock, glistening and beautiful in the firelight. Its scales reflected the light like silver mail in the night. “How would you like your fish?” He said as he knelt down and drew a small curved knife from his pack and set to cleaning the fish. He made a long slice along the little morsels belly and pulled out its organs, laying them tenderly on the rock next to the fire. With the organs removed he poured some water from his water skin over the fish washing away any left-over viscera that clung to it and the body cavity. He filleted it down the middle and picked up a stick near the fire. Removing his half he inspected it and the stick he had acquired and contemplated how to skewer them together. After concluding a strong stab would do the trick, he sowed the stick through the fishes flesh. He smiled with anticipation at how the fish would taste and planted his makeshift skewer in the loamy dirt near the rocks, making the stick hang the fish near the flames of the fire. He inspected his work one last time to make sure the fish wasn’t too close as to ignite unintentionally. Seeing all was in order he sat down on the ground with his back against the log and shut his eyes in relaxation. Just listening to the waves.