Beckoning Inquisition
34 Winter, 515
Late Morning
Boots thudded on stone steps as the wearer, Noah, bounded down them, taking them quickly one after another. Once he reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs he gave the lobby a quick onceover, sweeping with his eyes. He padded across the floor gently, the desk revealing itself and Matilda, his landlord. “Good day, dear,” she cheered, peering over her shoulder to greet him with her smile. He nodded in reply, smiling and waving as he always did when he first saw her. “Where are you off to?” Her inquiry was accompanied by a turn of her head to face him.
He shrugged at first, approaching the desk where the gleam of the silver bell caught his eye. “There’s a bookstore in the city, right?” he asked, looking up at her now as she came up to the other side of the desk.
She teetered her head in thought at first, humming along. “Not exactly, but there’s a place called Undeniable Interests a little bit down the way to the east. Why?”
“There’s something I want to learn about.” It was a true enough statement. He figured that if he couldn’t find someone to tell him about something, he should read about it. A book couldn’t stumble over words and get confused mid-sentence like a person could, he thought. It was what his mother would tell him anyway.
“What’s that?”
“Fighting.”
“Fighting?” A look of surprise came over Matilda. “I never took you for the type to want to be involved in all that mess.”
He smiled, laughing slightly. “I just want to be able to protect myself and my friends.”
Matilda gave him a contemplative stare, her small mouth twisting into a half-smile. “I suppose,” she trailed off, “but we have guards for a reason, you know?”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Very well. I don’t want to hear about you causing trouble though, you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am.” Noah took a few backwards steps towards the door which led outside into the streets of Syliras. “Take care,” he said to her with a wave of his hand in goodbye.
“Be careful out there.”
“I will.”
With that said he turned to grab at the knob of the door, turning it, forcing the latch, pushing the door open, then sliding outside.
Frigid cold air met his face, a gust blasting past him. He hurried to shut the door, lest the air swirl their way into the Traveler’s Row, robbing it of its warmth. In the gust he tried to determine the mood of the wind but it breezed by too quickly for him to acquire as much. Upwards he glanced at the sky, light grey clouds staked out in the heavens hiding the pale blue sky that winter always brought along with it. In his upwards glance he saw the snowflakes drift their way downwards, cold wetness greeting his still warm skin. Each unique flake melted upon making contact with his cheeks, delicately dissolving against the hollowness of his jowls.
He searched the clouds for a spot uncharacteristically bright. He recognized the spot as the sun and determined its place amidst its usual path in the sky. Due to how bright it was outside he determined that it was still approaching noon, which meant the sun was still within the eastern portion of the sky. Thus he began to walk in that direction, away from the slate of city wall the Traveler’s Row occupied, into the middle of the city, his boots crunching atop the collection of snow in the most non-delicate manner.
His wide strides carried him briskly across the streets. There were few people about this time of day he noted. It was the reason he chose to leave his apartment: he hated crowds. The biggest crowd of all was the rapid rush hour of Syliras, where any and everyone was making their way either to or from work. It was annoying, the bobbing of heads - most of which he towered over - the rustling of bodies, shouts of people, smells of men after laboring away. He loathed it all. Just then he passed by a slow walking mother, her child being towed along by the hand. It was a blond haired boy, huddling to his mother’s left, the side Noah passed beside them. He looked up to Noah, probably regarding him as a very tall person. His innocent deep blue eyes twinkled up at Noah, whose own hazel-greens shined back. The Kelvic man politely put forth a smile to the boy then to his mother who regarded him with tired, yet kind green eyes herself. “Good day,” Noah whispered.
“Good day,” she replied, her neutral frown turning up in a genuine smile.
Noah’s steps took him from their side to being placed in front of them. With the mother and child behind him now he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, the woolen comforts of warmth greeting his fingers and palms. While he was readily dressed for the weather, donning wool trousers, a cotton undershirt, woolen overtunic, leather jerkin on top of that, and, on top of that, a woolen cloak, the bite of winter winds still managed to seep through. Curiously the winds were still moodless, annoyingly whipping without the whispers he had grown accustom to hearing since the acquisition of his gnosis mark.
The crunching of snow underfoot dulled out as he began to repaint the tracks of those before him in the streets. He rounded a corner, hugging the wall of the building. He was not trying to hide himself, but the solidity of the nearby structure brought him comfort. It was an odd thing, finding comfort in the city he once thought utterly uncomfortable. He now revered it as his home. In the past he would have let the memories of home in Zeltiva overtake his mind, sullen thoughts shoving through the happy chimes of solitude. It was different these days, it was better. He was happy to be within the walls of Syliras now. Once he thought his apartment the only sanctuary, now he believed the entirety of the city as his sanctuary. None would seek to do him harm while he resided inside the castle city. He learned to appreciate the guards and understand the people who called the city home like he did.
Another gust of wind bid its way through, causing the snow to throw itself up into whirlwinds, chimes to sound, and signs to squeak. The breeze stopped Noah in his tracks, his eyes shooting to the chimes and then a sign. The high pitched squeal scratched at his ears. As the breeze’s weaker tail end came through the sign settled. It read: 'UNDENIABLE INTERESTS'.
He shrugged at first, approaching the desk where the gleam of the silver bell caught his eye. “There’s a bookstore in the city, right?” he asked, looking up at her now as she came up to the other side of the desk.
She teetered her head in thought at first, humming along. “Not exactly, but there’s a place called Undeniable Interests a little bit down the way to the east. Why?”
“There’s something I want to learn about.” It was a true enough statement. He figured that if he couldn’t find someone to tell him about something, he should read about it. A book couldn’t stumble over words and get confused mid-sentence like a person could, he thought. It was what his mother would tell him anyway.
“What’s that?”
“Fighting.”
“Fighting?” A look of surprise came over Matilda. “I never took you for the type to want to be involved in all that mess.”
He smiled, laughing slightly. “I just want to be able to protect myself and my friends.”
Matilda gave him a contemplative stare, her small mouth twisting into a half-smile. “I suppose,” she trailed off, “but we have guards for a reason, you know?”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Very well. I don’t want to hear about you causing trouble though, you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am.” Noah took a few backwards steps towards the door which led outside into the streets of Syliras. “Take care,” he said to her with a wave of his hand in goodbye.
“Be careful out there.”
“I will.”
With that said he turned to grab at the knob of the door, turning it, forcing the latch, pushing the door open, then sliding outside.
Frigid cold air met his face, a gust blasting past him. He hurried to shut the door, lest the air swirl their way into the Traveler’s Row, robbing it of its warmth. In the gust he tried to determine the mood of the wind but it breezed by too quickly for him to acquire as much. Upwards he glanced at the sky, light grey clouds staked out in the heavens hiding the pale blue sky that winter always brought along with it. In his upwards glance he saw the snowflakes drift their way downwards, cold wetness greeting his still warm skin. Each unique flake melted upon making contact with his cheeks, delicately dissolving against the hollowness of his jowls.
He searched the clouds for a spot uncharacteristically bright. He recognized the spot as the sun and determined its place amidst its usual path in the sky. Due to how bright it was outside he determined that it was still approaching noon, which meant the sun was still within the eastern portion of the sky. Thus he began to walk in that direction, away from the slate of city wall the Traveler’s Row occupied, into the middle of the city, his boots crunching atop the collection of snow in the most non-delicate manner.
His wide strides carried him briskly across the streets. There were few people about this time of day he noted. It was the reason he chose to leave his apartment: he hated crowds. The biggest crowd of all was the rapid rush hour of Syliras, where any and everyone was making their way either to or from work. It was annoying, the bobbing of heads - most of which he towered over - the rustling of bodies, shouts of people, smells of men after laboring away. He loathed it all. Just then he passed by a slow walking mother, her child being towed along by the hand. It was a blond haired boy, huddling to his mother’s left, the side Noah passed beside them. He looked up to Noah, probably regarding him as a very tall person. His innocent deep blue eyes twinkled up at Noah, whose own hazel-greens shined back. The Kelvic man politely put forth a smile to the boy then to his mother who regarded him with tired, yet kind green eyes herself. “Good day,” Noah whispered.
“Good day,” she replied, her neutral frown turning up in a genuine smile.
Noah’s steps took him from their side to being placed in front of them. With the mother and child behind him now he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, the woolen comforts of warmth greeting his fingers and palms. While he was readily dressed for the weather, donning wool trousers, a cotton undershirt, woolen overtunic, leather jerkin on top of that, and, on top of that, a woolen cloak, the bite of winter winds still managed to seep through. Curiously the winds were still moodless, annoyingly whipping without the whispers he had grown accustom to hearing since the acquisition of his gnosis mark.
The crunching of snow underfoot dulled out as he began to repaint the tracks of those before him in the streets. He rounded a corner, hugging the wall of the building. He was not trying to hide himself, but the solidity of the nearby structure brought him comfort. It was an odd thing, finding comfort in the city he once thought utterly uncomfortable. He now revered it as his home. In the past he would have let the memories of home in Zeltiva overtake his mind, sullen thoughts shoving through the happy chimes of solitude. It was different these days, it was better. He was happy to be within the walls of Syliras now. Once he thought his apartment the only sanctuary, now he believed the entirety of the city as his sanctuary. None would seek to do him harm while he resided inside the castle city. He learned to appreciate the guards and understand the people who called the city home like he did.
Another gust of wind bid its way through, causing the snow to throw itself up into whirlwinds, chimes to sound, and signs to squeak. The breeze stopped Noah in his tracks, his eyes shooting to the chimes and then a sign. The high pitched squeal scratched at his ears. As the breeze’s weaker tail end came through the sign settled. It read: 'UNDENIABLE INTERESTS'.
