[Port of Avanthal] Into the Great White North

[Hadrian]

15th Spring, 512 A.V. The time had come and they were leaving with the tide. Avanthal was still in a sorry state, but Hadrian had spent two weeks pouring forth the very stuff of his soul to create ice for the reavers to slather onto the melting palace and he knew that if he didn't leave now, they would work him to overgiving or death, whichever came first, in their desperation. Even now, his eyes were bloodshot, his head aching. His limbs were weak, hands trembling even stuffed into his pockets. The winterbane coat was packed, the new temperature not requiring such heavy, heat-saving apparel, and soon he would most likely seek their berth, where Kendall was already hiding in his strange mood, to sleep, perchance to dream. His dreams had been strange since he lost time in Ravok and then fled after his friends. Is the world strange, he asked himself, or am I? Thankfully the docks were made of stone and wood, and the lack of ice did not impede travel, though they had been flooded for a time until the sea had claimed the flood of snowmelt to disperse across its vast face. Did Laviku chuckle at Morwen's expense, or were all the gods concerned by what had happened. Hadrian, at least, was curious, but he would retreat to Zeltiva and study from afar rather than sail into the middle of the problem. The sailors were casting off lines to the schooner, calling out to one another like monkeys in the jungle from their crow's nests and ratlines and the deck itself. He studied them now though his mind was jittery and spent, and would study them at greater length as they sailed, for his ancestor had left him a ship, not so great as this, but he would need to learn the rudiments of sailing if he were to captain his saique. That was the sort of ship it was, he had learned after some time spent in the library. Or perhaps he could Animate it, or Animate ropes and sails, pilot it with golems. That would be a long-range project, he decided, as it had been some time since his work with Jilitse, and Kendall was so skittish around the discipline. But if they were in Zeltiva, it would not be so very difficult to make trips to Sahova if, perhaps, he could take a lesson from Zarik Mashaen himself. There was always that, and he needed to know what else Drainira had been up to, and report what he had learned abroad. Somehow along the line, among other things, he had become an information broker. Will you teach me what you know, Lord of the Deep? he prayed to Laviku, his thoughts drifting down like spent blossoms to touch down upon the surface of the sea and then sink below. There were so many avenues toward every goal, but it was a matter of ascertaining the most efficient, economic, and elegant. The ship began to move away from the dock, this one far out from shore with its low keel. Hadrian raised his hand in farewell as if Morwen could see him from her palace, sweating with condensation. Of course she could, but whether she was paying any attention was anyone's guess. There wasn't enough Iceglaze blood in his veins for him to stay, even if the wild djed had brought out the strange Vantha colors in him. "Farewell, Avanthal," he said quietly, fully prepared to fall back to sleep below.

[Aurrealis]

It's been 13 days since his meeting Hadrian and their talk of sailing away. Today is that day. The cargo of a ship never felt more unpleasant. Avanthal dripped and fell to pieces that last two weeks. The city ruined, every last ounce of snow gone and obliterated; every last sheet of ice wet with warmth. The castle is only thing that remains, it's magical beings protecting the Queen's home, but even that begins to deteriorate into nothing as time elapses by. She eventually arrived, unhappy and stricken with her broken city. No one held a celebration. They were too busy holding funerals, and searching for the ones to confirm their funerals. Most noticeably, the animal inhabitants are prevalently increasing throughout the streets. The gate and walls are long gone, wiping away any sort of protection to the outer world, pouring in undesirables. No one is safe here anymore. Aurrealis is long from tranquility, his back cramping and his body an inferno, his hiding place in the depths of the cargo space beneath Hadrian's ship showing no relief to his discomfort. A large tarp covered him as he lays in the nudges of supplies, a dark corner enclosing him. The last week was bad for Aurrealis. Not physically or mentally, but morally. He's questioning his ethics more and more as time passes, Avanthal become the hub, and fault, of all his sin. His backpack lay on his stomach, bursting with stolen goods. He never steals, it was never him to do it. Fear, possibly, of getting caught, but the guilt protrudes prominently. Then again, he can't experience much of any self-pity or blame anymore, so why limit oneself to things that no longer affect his morale? With the death of his father, it's rather been a twist to continue to live under Whitevine, hiding his father's absence. He sleuths out at night to grab his meals, residing hermit-like in his room, speaking to no one. If someone were to inquire his father's doing's, Aurrealis would simply inform them he was "terribly sick...and he can't see any doctor", before slipping back into the room and quickly closing the door. He can't imagine why he doesn't want help, but he's the one to take no pity. It be easier to simply live with another family for the time being, but everyone else is far too stuffy and overprotective for Aurrealis's liking. He's been experimenting a lot recently with his emotions, finding what might set him over the edge, snapping him and breaking his values in two. Nothing seemed to set him off. As he opened his bag slowly to reassure of what he's bringing, he can't help but think of his talk with Hadrian. Hadrian was surely going to spill to everyone the plans they made, and Aurrealis's name would be soiled forever to come. Aurrealis felt an ounce of woe for Hadrian's sake, not informing him of his OWN plans of hopping aboard anyway. But...those feelings were gone with a flash as Aurrealis shakes it off. Once again, he questions himself. Is he an entirely different person now? His personality now changing, ethics long out of the picture. He shrugs, listening quietly to the shouts above. He pulls open his bag. Food seems to be the item he possess that requires the most room, luckily it's stackable, and which all is politely stolen from the Whitevine eating hall - in rational pieces, it would last a week. All toiletries he left behind, mind a bar of soap and a brush. He felt the carved masterpiece on the side of the brush, his thumb riding an engraved tale. He sets it down, pulling out an eating knife, some flint and steel and a filled water flask - all he found quite necessary. The rest of his clothes are jammed packed at the bottom of his bag; his beloved snowcoat, snowpants and fitted boots he left behind, sitting on his vacant bed. He grabbed a pair of pants and a black cloak from his father's dresser. Before taking out his cherished medical journal, he pulls out a small, boxy case. He snaps it open, a wave of excitement briefly churns deep in his emotions. An array of medicine greets him, ranging from vials of anesthetics to blood thinners. All liquids are no bigger than his thumb, and they reside locked in a frame. On the opposite side, needles of all sizes are covered in a thin plastic membrane as cloths and bandaging lay next to them gently. He closes it swiftly, remembering what it was. Stolen. Stolen from the greatest of minds, the most caring of souls, and the most appraised in all of Avanthal. His eyes lowered, thinking how expensive this might be; yet they had an abundance of them! Surely one wouldn't be missed so dearly. It was stealthy for Aurrealis, it was devious and cankerous - something he had never done. He had no feeling for it. It will help him, and that's all that seemed to matter. There were a couple of stolen books filling the rest of the gaps of his bag, taking promptly off the second floor's database. One described the basics of anatomy while the other one described medicines, how they were conjured and how someone were to use them with skill. Again, necessary for his travels. They may have no books where he was going, and he doesn't think he'll be returning anytime soon. He quietly packed away the rest of his items, heating up beneath the tarp in the midst of nautical supplies. He should of grabbed something on sea travel, being a bit more knowledgeable of what exactly he's getting himself into. He closes his eyes, his breath even and his blood invigorated. He lays there, waiting. Unsure of what he waits for, though, the ship lurches forward and his journey is off.

[Tiki]

Nervous! Tiki was terribly, horribly nervous! What was I thinking he kept asking himself, jumping on a ship with Hadrian for, for, who knows? A feline kelvic to the letter, not only did he acknowledge his obvious fear of the open water, but he recognized every reason why with great detail. There were no treats to shield him, there were no hills to climb, and what would he hunt on a ship? He could fish. He could fish?! With what, claws from the ship deck that hung so many feet over the water’s surface? Never! And the movement, everything was rocking and moving and swaying and wooshing. Woosh! The mast was being pushed around by the wind, or sailors, in some convoluted effort to catch the wind and set sail. Tiki looked out at the shifting horizon that bobbled up and down as he saw chunks of ice floating out. His stomach sank even more. He needed to get out. He went below deck, to Hadrian’s quarters at first. He only peeked his head in to the room to see Hadrian asleep. He’d have hopped up there with him if he didn’t know better. He could curl up right on top of Hadrian and fall asleep. He knew better though, so he didn’t disturb Hadrian. He had thought of visiting Kendall as well, but since his last formal visit, just her and him, it didn’t seem like the best idea. The girl of his dreams was really just a girl from a dream, it seemed. He wasn’t sure what to think of Kendall much anymore. There was a lot between them all that he didn’t understand, Ethan included. It seemed from the start Ethan was holding something secret. It still wasn’t an excuse for him to be so cruel. Well, with every top part of the ship having been explored and everyone else fast asleep in the main decks, there were few places left to explore. He especially was forbidden to browse the sailor’s quarters, the kitchen, and the captain’s quarters. He wasn’t really meant to go into the holding docks either. Things down there were delicate or something… and that was overlooking the fact that it wasn’t his to begin with. The “it” in question was debatable. There was never any harm done if he was just looking. So he looked. Well, first he snuck past the sailors too busy moving things along the upper deck or securing the masts and then snuck down. It was pretty masterful, he waited. When no one was in sight he walked down. He tip-toed of course, but it didn’t make much of a difference. His things, entirely all of his cloths and coin and what-have-you, were in another room. He thought it might be in Hadrian’s or his own. That wasn’t clear just yet, with the people coming and going from port to port or crew members shuffling. But here he was the big black cat on the prowl. Down here it was dark, and he could see clearly. Stacked crates and other items made up a jungle of their own. He made the slightest thump when he leapt up onto one. He was quiet then, looking around it all. For a replacement, it failed. Even a ship as large as this couldn’t fulfill his desires to roam. He’d have to wait for a long time until they set in at a port. Then he could run and jump and splash in the shallow waters. It was still spring and the water might be cool, but after having stayed in Avanthal for as long as he did the world elsewhere just seemed warmer. But now he was stuck in a ship was nothing to do or explore. His own room was as barren as his bag was full, now stuffed with furs beyond his use. He’d have to make the crates in the lower deck last. He had no idea as to which way he might even begin to search them. There was that corner, or this corner, or that end. He could start with the big ones or little ones… Tiki’s unfailing feline senses in their heightened sensitivity never seemed to fail him. Well, there were a few times, but at the moment that defeats the purpose of his curiosity. In the dark and empty lower quarters of the deck, among all the musty smells of wet food and salt, something stuck out. It wasn’t a creeping sea rat, or some other smuggled goods from the frosty north, but had as lively a scent as such. He knew it to be Vantha, they littered the city with the scent of each hold. He specifically recalled that of the Frostfaun. It was something of an animal quality, naturally. This one he could not recall the specifics of though. It was too strong to just be some type of clothing being taken. The scent was springing from its source just over there… It might be a criminal from the prison… A paranoia of Ethan’s standards suggested that. Tiki’s concern was for the well being of the crew in general of course, in which case his animal instincts took over. It didn’t occur to him that he might go get help, or that he could very well just die. The ship had become his unofficial territory of sorts. Note to self: must mark territory. Stupid fish not welcome. So he crept down from his canopy and started for the crate with the Vantha stowaway. It couldn’t have been too long since they left the port. The desperate guy might have snuck on board. He approached him as prey. The closer he got, the more he hesitated. He smelled awful sweet for a convict. At the far end of the crate, over which the tarp was placed, Tiki peeked his head in and the light come through too. He let out a low growl, almost playful in nature, as his golden eyes settled on blood thirsty killer who snuck onto the ship, Aurrealis.

[Aurrealis]

It hadn't barely been a bell before Aurrealis heard a thumping among the cargo space. He knew Hadrian was asleep - Aurrealis had been laying there for far too long, listening and occasionally watching the stairs and quarters - but he hadn't the slightest clue who might have showed up down below. The crew was busy at work above, and by judging after the first launch, Avanthal should be a speck by now - but still visible. The sea usually treats him nice. He couldn't tell anyone of a magnificent tale of being out at sea, or a deadly catch, or even an embarked adventure; for his time on sea was limited, and this was one of the few times he has set sail off the mainland. He doesn't get seasick, blessing from his Vantha heritage he would suppose. It roots back through his mother's Coolwater nature, yet his absolute love of water never flourished. It just instigates his immunity of sea-journey sickness, which is a pleasant advantage in this adventure. The person began to move. It let out bursts of creaks as it pranced around the cargo, but they were sporadic across the hull - like a phantom, stealthy and fading in the shadows, making little to no noise only when it decides to make a quiet leap. Well then again, this was no phantom. This was no human, he concluded. There was slight thud as it walked among crates, a velvety friction as a tail slid among the wood, occasionally making a swishing sound like a far off echo. A cat? He thought. No, no. No cat would want to board a ship. Why would a cat be interested to be here, far from land and any stable ground? Deep in thought, the phantom got closer. It danced and leaped, silently and swiftly. This was no house feline, it's feet are far too large and it's tail far too heavy. It smelled disgusting, at least to Aurrealis. Confirming it's identity, it was an animal unknown to him. He knows of polar bears and elk, moose and caribou, hundreds of different types of snow rodents and hares. Even the occasional owl or winter fox. It smelled of none of these. Damp with moisture, it's presence reeked of fur and soiled breath. It was large, it stunk, it walked among shadows, and it was headed his way. Under normal circumstances, Aurrealis would remain quiet, hidden out of fear and anxiety. He wouldn't move a muscle, afraid the slightest breath would give him away. If it's a cat, no doubt it can smell me. He knows of the general curiosity of most animals, and their senses only aid them further for what they seek. These are no normal circumstances. He feels no fear. Subconsciously, he pulled out his eating knife. Dulled and smaller than a dirk, it would have to do. It slid out gently from his pack, his hands wet with sweat - due to the confinement of space - as he heard a low growl above him. Aurrealis closed his eyes and whipped open the tarp with a quick motion. He jumped far to the left on his feet in the dark corner, his left hand tattoo shimmering a twilight opal as he faces those golden eyes, a knife in the other. Who are you?! And what do you want with me?!

[Tiki]

Tiki yelped a bit as the little bugger leapt up from the tarp and into the corner. The knife was hardly a concerned as much as his speed! Where had he gone? The bastard murderer must be somewhe- Tiki stopped and looked back to the corner. The shimmer of the gnosis mark revealed Aurrealis all the more. Tiki’s cornea expanded almost in full to get a good look at the throat slashing mad man. It was a boy. He spoke Vani, but Tiki understood very little. Language served as another barrier for them to overcome now. Who…you? What….me? That was just about all that he made out, but he had some sense of it all. The wide mouthed cat came to his senses. Tiki was scarring the poor child. The matter of such logic was ironic in itself, considering Aurrealis had been around much longer than Tiki. He tried to be friendly in a very kitten like manner. It had worked with others, like Hadrian. He propped himself up on the crate and laid down a bit. His elbows stuck up in the air made it look like he was ready to pounce. Surely, Aurrealis wouldn’t back down, plus he was cornered. Tiki thought he was going about it the wrong way. He saw it in the Vantha’s eyes. Leaping forward on his front paws, plenty out of the Vantha’s reach or his blades, Tiki strung up and shifted to his bare human form. He leaned over, his elbows fastened in by his lower abdomen and arms between his legs, and gave Aurrealis his cheerful smile. The cat, who did not stink that much, had an overall friendly look about him. His eyes still radiated the same feline powers of superior vision; Aurrealis couldn’t pull much of a fast one here. “Hello,” Tiki spoke in the Vani tongue. He looked down a moment and quickly corrected himself. He hardly comprehended the language, but surely the Vantha child must know the vernacular of the land. “Hello,” he corrected himself in the common language, his tone was a bit more submissive. He tried to stoop his head lower to look at Aurrealis at eye level. The crate elevated him quite a bit.

OOCposts might be short till we get the ball rolling. Keep it up though; I like your style.

[Hadrian]

OOCHey, guys. Way to take turns.

Hadrian had only just begun to drowse when Tiki poked his head into his berth, the aura tingling along the edges of his awareness. He was just so tired, but even as the Kelvic retreated, Hadrian clawed his way back to consciousness, shaking his head full of sand as he stood up to stumble and follow. Time played funny tricks when he was waking up, so he wasn't sure how far ahead his new travel companion had gone, but he could follow. Nobody could hide from him on this ship, not unless they were as keen an aurist as he was. That, at least, didn't take much out of him, not the way the ice production had. It wasn't until he walked into the cargo hold that he recognized another aura, one he hadn't felt since the day they met. There had been no negotiation with Whitevine Hold, nor permission from Queen Morwen. If he was on this ship now, then he was Hadrian's responsibility. "Oh, shit," he mumbled. Calling ahead, "Aurrealis? Tiki?"

[Aurrealis]

The darkness of the hull laughed at his soul, echoing throughout his skin and mocking his courage. He could barely see, and what he did see was a large black cat. Golden eyes curved the light from the far entrance, giving a luminous, filmy blare to it's face. This is it. Aurrealis thought quickly. It's all or nothing, right now. He was far from fear, logic overpowered his thinking as his gears began to turn, thinking of a way to skedaddle, or exert full on fighting power. Unfortunately he has little to no experience with a knife, little fighting experience overall. How doubtful. I can take this beast. His courage was upsetting. He watched the silhouette of the body, continuing to hold those filmy cat-like eyes, transform into a man. His chest bare and his teeth showing a large smile. Aurrealis blinked, a kelvic. But why here? The mans thought to be aggressive stance turned into a friendly, bare-none stature. There's no way to make a quick getaway, this feline had the advantage. He stooped his head after greeting Aurrealis in Vani, then again in Common. I network of possibilities rush through the child's head; a river, travelling quickly and knowing haste. If this kelvic meant no harm, why did it have to sneak up on me? Did I intimidate him? - That's a first. This could be a trap!...No, how could it, he's part of the ship. I possibly frightened him.... Realizing he was still holding his knife, and that the kelvic wasn't planning on pouncing or attacking, he relaxes his arm and stands up straight. His emerald eyes pierces the darkness like blades, his facial expression squinted and protective. Knowing only determination and patience, he adds after a few moments, "Hello." Without saying another word, he watches the man carefully, a tense sensation still filters through the surrounding air. There's an instant relief as he breaths in the open air, his forehead begins to sweat as his body attempts to cool him down. He could of sworn he heard his name being called, but his ears go dumb as he studies the passive voice. Aurrealis cocks his head and stares, yielding to blink.

[Tiki]

The young Vantha’s response was reassuring and, even more so, Hadrian’s. Tiki peeked back toward the cargo bay entrance, as if through the crates, to Hadrian’s presence, and then returned to Aurrealis smiling. The threat was gone, it was all calm now, there was no evil man, only a scared boy, and then there was Aurrealis. Tiki was still very much scared and boyish in his experience. It was much to Aurrealis’s advantage that kelvics had a sense to look before they pounce. An eating knife could not fend off a beast in the hands of a young lad. His lips contracted and expanded their grin again before he spoke and said in the common tongue, as he would till he learned more of the voice of the Vantha, “I’m Tiki,” and while looked back to the way he had turned before, “and there must be Hadrian.” Tiki was awfully soft spoken, still hesitant of Aurrealis as he had been with many others. They’d warm up to one another eventually. The deepening of his voice, as life would have it, was something to note now. Not so much an octave lower, or a cracking of the voice, but he was entering his adolescent times as a kelvic. Perhaps that’s where the offset hostility had come from. He hopped down in front of Aurrealis, still cheerful to see the little boy, now so much smaller then he was tall, and fell to all fours. Now, once more a beastly cat, he looked back to the Vantha. That grin almost translated through his lips. Tiki began to make his way back to Hadrian, though he stopped to check that Aurrealis would follow on a few occasions. Hadrian had most definitely called, as his feline ears heard it, and would not wish to be kept waiting. Tiki thought over the name he had called before. It didn’t sound too foreign as the Vantha culture rang in its pronunciation. The thought that Hadrian knew the boy didn’t cross his mind either. He did make his way from behind the cargo, into the light, and stood before Hadrian. He shifted upright and told Hadrian the situation as he knew it. “There was a boy hiding in the back. I found him.” Tiki’s smile would send all the wrong messages: a large cat kelvic, dark as the night in a room with no light, having found a boy, alone and probably unarmed. Thankfully there were auras to tell Hadrian what words could not. Surely the boy had followed him out?

OOCSick Tuesday, NYC Wednesday, but now it’s up to date. Sorry about that!

[Hadrian]

Thankfully Tiki returned without the sounds of violence to presage his appearance. The adrenaline began to dissipate and he smiled wearily, glad there was one less battle to fight. His long-fingered hand fell to Tiki's head, scratching softly at his hair as one might a pet. Perhaps he ought not do that. Ethan had traveled with him for a year now, and seemed vehemently against bonding, but who knew what Tiki truly wanted. "The boy did mention wanting traveling companions," he explained. "But when he didn't return, I assumed he had changed his mind." But the affectionate touch didn't stop him. He kept walking into the part of the hold from which Tiki had appeared. "Aurrealis?" he called ahead. "Is all this cloak and dagger action really necessary? I suppose you might as well come out now. The ship will not turn back now for fear of losing the tide. You are en route to Mura."

[Aurrealis]

He hadn't moved the slightest muscle, mind the animal jumping down in front of him, a step back and a continuous stare as he walked to the voice, reassuringly must be Hadrian. It was a beautiful beast, something he had never seen before; well, the coat at least. Sleek as darkness and pitch as night, golden eyes dotted the blackness like lustrous Miza's. It was surely no native, as he assumed earlier before this entire conundrum, it's coat wouldn't be black, and his eyes wouldn't offset the colour of the snow, unlike most other northern creatures. It was a peculiar fascination all on it's own, moving and strutting like a Snow Lynx or White Tiger - but as smooth and slick as a sleuthing Mountain Lion. Tiki, as it would proclaim to be named, looked back sporadically. Only then did Aurrealis see the portraying youth features; a young face, twisted with curiosity looked back at the boy. As magnificent as the animal was, Aurrealis reminded himself that he is all but a young Kelvic, aging quickly - disobeying the laws of youth, adolescence and adulthood. As he looked back, the notion of questioning whether or not Aurrealis would follow became clear. However, he did no such thing. It wasn't out of fear of what lie in store for him when he faced Hadrian and the cat, Tiki. There was simply no reason to follow. In what way might be beneficial of only to 're-reveal' his sought out corner? He stood put, hiding in the shadows - incognito to the light ahead of him. Only then did he hear Hadrian's voice prominently among the phantoms. He had trusted this man before, there's no plausible reason to not trust him again, nor would it be wise for Aurrealis to lose Hadrian's own trust. Though...he was going to tell. He was going to spill Aurrealis's plan. There's trust for Hadrian at this point, but it reveals little, and it floats with buoyancy atop a shallow pool. A fragile bond at risk, Aurrealis finally finds movement and a voice. "Well nothing would have to be necessary, Hadrian, if I was simply left alone." He called out, then followed by something in Vani, a meaning still unknown. He just recalls his father often spurting this word out whenever he became awfully angry towards someone. Aurrealis had no emotion behind it, but said it simply to say it. Moving quickly now, he slithers through the boxes while sheathing his knife, returning it to his pack. Near where Hadrian and Tiki stood, Aurrealis appears just beyond the pair, visible as he looks up. His steps where quiet and his sweat soon begins to subside, leaving a glistening forehead. He wipes his face with his sleeve before squinting up again. His stance powerful and his mouth pinched sharply together. Wanting a true introduction, he starts, "Hello Tiki, my name is Aurrealis." He didn't wait for a response or acknowledgment, and turned his gaze to Hadrian. "Who's Mura?" He said sharply, crossing his arms, though no anger rushed through his blood. It was said with petite vigor, but clearly an overflow of curiosity.