The stone was cold under his fingers, smooth and just a little moist from the water seeping from the ceiling. Below him shimmered the water of the grotto, vivid blue and lucid green, inviting. Taking a deep breath the young man pushed away from the rock, gliding down the two feet separating him from the cavern ground. He landed with a soft thud, the sound or bare feet touching hard stone. Slowly he stood up, the moving parts of his armor scratching against each other with an barely audible sound. Stretching Velarian looked around. Dozens of stalagmites hung above his head, white, black and all shades in between, they gleamed wet in the half light of the cave. The young man didn't pay them much mind, instead venturing deeper into the cave, past placid pools and puddles.
The grotto was filled with the sound of dripping water and quiet murmur, the former outweighing the later, which was a rare occurrence. Few wandered the cave tonight and those who did the symenestra was not familiar with. Some he knew in passing, but most he could not tell the name of. Sitting down at the fringe of a larger basin, he relaxed against dark, cool rock.
He had spend most of the day helping his father, preparing toys for animation. A whole set of song birds a man in Lhavit had ordered, sparrows, nightingales and larks made from copper and tin. They couldn't fly but with the little cylinder in their bellies they were able to produce a tune much the way a music box was able to. Velarian had no talent for working metal, not with so small parts and not with so complicate mechanics but even his father had to admit he had a talent for the Animation process itself. Eventually he would learn the delicacies of gadgeteering one day, but the young man doubt to ever reach his father's mastery in the trade.
Maybe I should...
The noise of water splashing drew his attention. Swimming in the water beside him he spotted someone. A young girl, not quite a woman yet, dark hair framing her face. She was younger than him at least by a few years, too young to be part of the group used to hang out with and her face was only vaguely familiar to him.
"It is the first time I see someone swimming here." Velarian nodded towards the water. "I never even thought about it," he confessed with a little smirk. The expression made his formerly serious face more winsome, but just barely so. He remained a lanky youth of fifteen and he cut a rather unimpressive figure. Briefly he looked towards the other visitors, too far away to hear them talking. Most seem to visit the grotto to mingle or stroll among the ponds, although he had to admit he sometimes had tried to push other boys into the basins when he had still been younger. It had almost been like a game. One he tended to loose.
"Are you coming from training?" He could see the first violet of bruises bloom on her pale skin and he knew it was the age his brother had started training with sword and spear. In his youth he had wanted to learn to fight as well, but it has passed, like so many things. Still, curiosity was evident in his eyes when he watched her, waiting her answer.