Closed the divas' debut

[Bianca White]

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Spring 5th, 515 AV

It was quiet. There was barely any noise from what generally was a noisy operation - dock work. The sailors had little idle chatter, simply going about their business as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no doubt that it was from the general off feeling received by the island of Sahova that kept them quiet. Port Silence was an apt name for the location. It was warm here, warmer than it would be now in Zeltiva, and Bianca knew that bringing her wool dress wouldn't serve her as well as it did in the port city. However, it was packed away nicely in her bag and there was no reason to get rid of it.

Her small hands were clenched into fists, fingernails digging into her palm and forming tiny crescent indentations that disappeared soon after their birth, only to be reformed when she closed her hand again. It was a rare sight to see Bianca White, of all people, nervous, though the usually confident girl found that the cat had her tongue as she stepped onto the docks and into the quiet business of the sailors. The sailors were joined by Sahovan slaves, loading cargo onto carts drawn by strange...things. She hadn't really seen golems before, and had only briefly seen the mention of them in books, but to see so many was as off-putting as the usage of slaves. Neither were used in Zeltiva, seeing as magic was regulated and slavery was illegal, though the entire concept fit the feeling given off by the island itself.

Approaching a slave and stealing her tongue back from the metaphorical cat, she spoke in that silvery voice of hers. "How far is the Citadel?"

The slave was nervous looking, though she answered the question with little difficulty. "Ten miles, follow the carts." Bianca turned to look at the road, and then back at where she stood. The Citadel wasn't even visible from where she stood, unlike in Zeltiva where everything surrounded the port.

It was going to be a long walk.

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[Amisyria Sivali]

Amisyria felt that the trek to the citadel that housed the enigmatic mages of Sahova was rather symbolic. What was another road on her journey? As of that moment she had no real destination other than the accumulation of power. And there was power in Sahova. She could feel it. It was not a tangible thing. She noticed nothing in the air nor did she see anything that made her stop and gaze in awe, she had traveled too far and seen too much to be awed by many things. It was just a feeling. Her eyes passed over the slaves as she made her way over the docks. Contrary to what one might have expected she felt no sympathy for them. Empathy? Yes. She understood their position. There had been a time when she had been beholden to masters that toyed with her for their own amusement. But she had risen above that.

She stood at the edge of the docks where wood became earthen road staring into the distance. How many steps would it take before she was at the doors to her future? She would count them. One foot in front of the other just as she had always done. A rich, cultured voice drew her attention briefly. Amisyria turned her body slightly to regard a young woman with hair the color of polished wood and eyes like clear water. Her gaze was critical though outwardly she did her best to portray herself as vaguely disinterested. Reaching inside of herself, Amisyria concentrated the flow of her energies directing them outward. Immediately she felt the strain of doing so. Commanding the powers of the Self were so different than the powers of the World.

Amisyria’s vision grew hazy for a moment before a different picture was painted before her. Colors of a variety that went unseen to the unskilled began to make themselves evident. Amisyria nudged her vision focusing on the hues of emotion that surrounded the young woman. It took focus. Amisyria was certainly more comfortable doing the work of spirits than peering into the cloud of another’s aura. At best the spiritist could make out that something was bothering the other woman. That was self-evident. It didn’t take an aurist to see that. Amisyria mentally tugged a little more of her energy into the effort, a slight furrow touching her brow. More of the aura became clear but it was still blurred and difficult to pinpoint. Of all the things that flittered in and out of Amisyria’s vision however the most prominent emotion she could see was the nauseously infectious pall of nervousness. She blinked a few times releasing the hold she had on her own powers turning her head away.

When the after effects of pushing her auristic abilities subsided, Amisyria cleared her throat.

“If it is a journey to the citadel you seek, she would be glad for the company.” She did not smile but raised an eyebrow expectantly. The appearance of this other outsider offered Amisyria a small measure of comfort. At least she was not to be scrutinized as a newcomer alone. Perhaps she could make use of that in some way? Time would tell and Amisyria was a patient woman.

[Bianca White]

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Bianca did not notice the woman until she spoke. The tinge of nervousness that hardened her edges softened some, allowing her to loosen her shoulders and walk briskly towards the woman who had offered the companionship for the ten mile walk. The ex-attorney held out her hand, though whether the other woman shook it or stared, relaxed her face and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face with her other hand. The woman she spoke to was almost beautiful, loosely bordering the thin line that seemed to make the difference. She was darker skinned than many Bianca had met, denoting a heritage that she could not quite identify - though it clued into a desert race of some kind. Bianca's own voice did not soften as she spoke, but it wasn't harsh.

"I would appreciate the companionship. I'm Bianca White, by the way. You are? I've seen you on the ship, but I never introduced myself." Bianca waved her hand in a gesture to follow and began walking down the road, her steps slower in an effort to conserve energy for the lengthy walk. She expected the other woman to follow, but would stop and wait if she didn't. Her gaze turned down the road, the scenery much different than what she was used to but not unwelcome, especially after the time spent at sea - a fact which Bianca could feel in her legs. Ships made her feel restless, they always had, and being on steady land was more welcome than the sea despite her seafaring, Zeltivan-fishing heritage.

Bianca was, for once, at a loss on how to continue conversation. She did not know this woman, nor where she was from - though this thought in itself was enough to prompt her to speak. "Where are you from? What brings you to Sahova?"

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