[Mirror Lake] Rumor Has It

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

21st Spring, 512 A.V. It might have been a perfect, glassy surface at one point, but the lake had melted before Sama'el and his little tribe had arrived, and now there were always ripples even as late at night as this. The storm had changed the Everwinter City, and while he knew they needed to rest before returning, he was eager to go back and check on his home, the wandering tent city, to make sure all was well. Surely so far away nothing had happened, but he heard things on the streets. It had him worried. And so though Issima was asleep, he had gotten out of their blankets, left their tent to wander. It was warm for Spring, warm for this far North. That brought his wandering feet down to the lake for a swim. Now he stood up out of the water, sluicing it off his hair and down his back, walking up to the bank. He was clean now, and felt a bit calmer. Sitting down on the rock next to his clothes, he pulled them on, braided chunks of his hair anew. Soon enough they would be bound south again, reinforcing the long arm of the Web that spiked up to Avanthal thanks to his efforts and those of Ronan as well. It wasn't soon enough, but there was Izurabelle and the children who needed time to prepare now they knew Ragnor was waiting for them in the Sanctuary of Riverfall, and the Winter had been harsh for his Drykas brethren; they needed this rest.

[Oluse]

Oluse walked the arching path along far side of the glimmering lake. Some would think such a dipping spot would attract some number of local visitors looking to swim in safe waters. But, much to Oluses' initial surprise, the Vantha rarely spoke of the lake, and on even rarer occasion ventured to it. It was a sore part of the city, a gaping wound that had yet to be healed, like nearly the entirety of the city. If it weren't for the hold still standing tall above the citizens, towering like some frozen beacon of hope, a glimpse of the city's former glory, then Oluse feared the entire city might fall to pieces, each citizens crushed under the storm's molestation.

Oluse was far from understanding the local's attraction to the cold, but it seemed a love that lay close to each one's heart. Just as their eye's shifted, and gnosis marks burst from their skin so did they feel the draw to their supposed maker. Oluse, however, could remember his first steps in Avathal, the accomplishment he felt, and the sensation of safety which surrounded him as he passed through the now fallen gates. The crunching of snow beneath his feet, which carried with it not the stomach churning warning of that in the tundra, but an unifying symphony of footsteps in the streets. Oluse had always loved the wilderness more than cities, but Avanthal had been different, a place of laughter and stories. Wonders locked in each layer of rime upon each ever growing building. But after the storm, nothing of the sort remained, and the people by in large remained in chaos. As if the ice has given them all balance, guiding them in what to think, what to feel. Without it...

Oluse knew he had to leave, but it still scared him. Part of him was ashamed of the decision. When the city needed him the most he was leaving, just walking away. But after that night, reminiscent of clairvoyance, he knew, without a doubt, that he had to. He spent some time justifying that decision, with thoughts of all the good deeds he had done for Avanthal in the past, but he had long since ceased in that nonsense, excepting his choice without further question. With absolute certainty. And so there he was, with his heavy snow boots, which he had yet to shrug off, still considering the air around him to hold a chilling sense, physical or not. He made his way along the open wound of Avanthal, deliberately avoiding looking at it, keeping his eyes on the Drykas man ahead. Oluse already knew what was in the lake, the bloody wound of Avanthal. In it was himself, a reflection, some specter of what he hoped to become, the past. He had been stuck there, frozen in ice, and callus from the world as he trained with the Vantha, but with the melt came all of the feeling he had tried to run from, all of the pain he had hidden. And, a new part of himself he had never known. He knew he must.

Three final, heavy steps brought him to a stand still a few paces from Sama'el as he finish up. Ronan had told him Sama'el would be there, bathing, getting time alone. Oluse hated to think he might be interrupting, but there was words the leader would have to hear, that he wasn't ready for Ronan to know. The truth of why he needed to go to Riverfall.

"Sama'el." He began, nodding up at the man who stood a good head over himself. He then stepped forward again and extended his hand, at a distance which demanded a half step from Sama'el as well, to meet him in the middle like a true man. "My name is Oluse Fortis-Saro. I understand Ronan has mentioned me, and what I seek?" His introduction had a stern sound to it, a surety. Some people introduce themselves in a rehearsed manner, unthinking, and some people sound like they really believe what they are saying. When Oluse spoke his name he had a sense of certainty in his voice, as if he knew who he was. This was true, what he didn't know is who he was becoming. "I was hoping I could, well," his certainty broke a moment, a waver of confidence, revealing his age. Sama'el was young, younger than Oluse anticipated, and this comforted Oluse somewhat, but still, a man who controlled his destiny. This was hard for Oluse to swallow, the thought his life lay in a stranger's hands. "I was hoping I could speak with you about it, convince you of the help I could be to you and yours."

He was prepared to tell Sama'el his reasoning, but he would only do so if it was necessary. He had yet to make sense of it all himself, and thus was still shy of speaking it.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el turned at the sound of the boy's approach, and in the dark, his name came out to greet him. It was a strange thing, but then the voice manifested a form, and it was a boy who spoke of Ronan and ah, of course. Oluse Fortis-Saro, the boy who would go to Riverfall. And since he came speaking like a man, Sama'el gave him a frank up-and-down look to take in his measure. Finally he stepped forward to shake his hand because the boy was a friend of Ronan's and deserved that much respect. He had already spoke to Izurabelle Matlian about the migration of her family, and now here was another child who wanted to tag along through the melted winter forests, to slog through the danger, more mouths to feed. What was Ronan thinking? Sama'el was young too, of course, but he had been a man at seven summers, bonding to his first Strider, though Hasieran had died less than a year later, protecting Sama'el from death, though Sama'el had died, had become simple Sam and gone into slavery in Sunberth. Only recently had Sama'el, the proud Drykas, been reborn, and he was fierce in his desire to make up for lost time, accrue a new glory to the name that remained unspoken. He had a baby face, though the arms he crossed over his chest were skin over whipcord muscle. His years might have been tender, but his skills were to be respected. He had survived without Pavilion, tamed a horse to bring him back to the Sea of Grass, and was riding circles around his peers, showing himself worthy of the respect a man with twice his years deserved. "Go ahead," he allowed. "I'm listening."

[Oluse]

Oluse felt distinctly uncomfortable with how the conversation was turning out. Never had he been particularly quick of wit or sharp of tongue. But, when situations grew such importance as that one his words often completely left him. He didn't know where to start really, or end, or even a single thing that should be said. The deliberation took some time, as he mustered up what he could in himself. It felt sluggish though, as if he were waiting for the thoughts themselves to form and come to him, as if the clock of the conversation was ticking painfully away and he could do nothing to speed the process, simple stand awkwardly with his brow knit firmly together, and wait.

Finally he decided to do just as his said he would, "Ok, so my merits, how I can help you." His eyes slipped out of focus a moment, looking upon nothing in particular, then back. "I'm a physician." The words opened some dam within him, bringing with it more. His credentials, he knew these and how to give them, though he knew alone they wouldn't be enough. "I quite talented one at that. As the Whitevine Clinic, which I've worked hard for several seasons can attest. I was taught the basics of my craft by my mother and father, both doctors as well. All from a very young age. I have purchased for myself, on my own earned money supplies I would need to travel, and to do my work should the unexpected happen." Another pause filled the air around him, silence filling the oddly hydrated air he breathed. All as he thought upon what else to say.

"I've traveled before." He attested to no particular claim, though didn't feel expanding upon the experience was a good idea, considering the outcome of the trip. Another issue he would have to deal with before leaving, a book to close. This thought, unfortunately stole his attention for another long moment, leaving an opening for some more direct questions. He wasn't prepared to sell himself, patients bleeding out rarely stopped him to ask for a life story. In fact, he rarely ever was asked about himself. Fawned over some senior doctors, and watched dubiously by his patients, but never any true interest. He suddenly doubted how much the Drykas before him truly wanted to know. His face looked oddly worrisome in response to the unspoken fear. If more knowledge was to come, it would need to be requested, Oluses' lips were drawn shut in doubt, with no promise of breaking free on their own.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el looked the boy over critically, but not actually unkindly. A pavilion was only as strong as its weakest link at times, even if they weren't a proper pavilion. The path from Cyphrus had been fraught with peril, and they had very nearly lost Denen. All he wanted to do was get Ragnor's family back to Riverfall as quickly and expeditiously as possible, bringing his wife, their unborn child, and his friends back to Endrykas. With Issima pregnant, it was time to raise the banner, say his name out loud again for the first time since he was seven. But there were always hold-ups. Still peering at the boy, really not so very much younger than him, he calculated the advantages and drawbacks to bringing him along. They had Denen to heal them, and healing spells tricked into Leto's clever glyphs should Denen fail them or be overwhelmed by some catastrophe. If they needed more of anything, it was competent warriors and hunters, the better to feed and protect the group that would be larger going back than it had been coming. "You will be a burden," he said. "We have healers. It is a dangerous journey and we will be your protection and your guides. If you come, Ronan will be responsible for you, and you will do whatever he or I tell you. This is not negotiable. We are not a caravan, nor mercenaries. We are also not saints, and I will turn you out into the wilderness if you endanger my family." That is what they were: his family. Sama'el was not a mean person; far from it, but when it came to the people who were his responsibility, he was made of Isurian steel. He did smile then. "If you can live with those terms until our ship bumps up against the quays of Riverfall, I suppose you can come."

[Oluse]

Oluse's heart plummeted abruptly as Sama'el began to speak. He knew it was true, of course, he may be a better healer than most but one healer was still all a party needed. He would be a burden. But then, Sana'el continued, speaking of how they will be his guide and protectors. The words confused him at first, in such stark contrast to where he anticipated the conversation to go. Reservations aside he listened as the Drykas continued with his terms, and by the end Oluse was grinning. He fought the grin off his face, of course, as soon as he realized it had appeared. He didn't want to ruin his chances by seeming some over eager child.

He was glad to hear Ronan would be responsible for him, he trusted something about Ronan, wanted to get closer. But, not too close, not as close he had gotten to his last guide. A mistake he refused to relive. To impose upon another. Oluse thought of paying them, of course, but Sama'el had been firm about his demands, and Oluse realized the softer side of them. There were no mercenaries or a caravan, which meant money would not sway them. Which told Oluse he was welcome, however tentatively. Oluse felt faith he could live up to this trust given to him, and so he took the thread lightly. Though, he didn't doubt a moment that the severe man was speaking the truth.

"I can, Sir. And, I will. Thank you very much for your blessing. I give you my word that I will do as you and Ronan say. Thank you." He had said the phrase twice, and it still didn't seem enough. Oluse was truly thankful, in a way he had never felt before. Perhaps there was truly something to this whole trust business, relying on others to help you reach your goals. Something to ponder at a later time.

"I'll leave you to your solitude then, Sir. I'll come back in the morning when there is more time to speak of. Plans?" He hesitated at the end, for he wasn't sure what plans these might be. He was sure there was something though.

oocOkie that should wrap it up. Feel free to end it there and turn it in or do another post i'd welcome both. We should talk about what other threads might need to happened between them. I would personally like to get to actually posting travel threads asap!

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el felt the flickers of a smile threaten on his face, as well. His challenge in leadership was not to make the wrong decisions in an effort to please everyone. It was impossible to make everyone happy all of the time, and he was learning that often difficult decisions had to be made for the betterment of all. He wondered how long it would take the Matlians to be ready, but he also wanted to impress upon Oluse, who was younger than him, but not a Drykas who could be a man at seven, how important the cohesion of their group was. "Until we reach Riverfall, you must think of me as your father. I know it seems silly, but it is necessary to survive the dangers. And Ronan will be your elder brother... And when we reach the city of the blue men, you can go your own way. "It is my wish that we leave on the 37th. Avanthal is in shambles and we do not want to become embroiled in problems that do not belong to us. We will leave as soon as the Matlians are ready, but it might take that long. Gather what you need. Ronan can tell you if you are missing anything. It will be a long journey, but not so long as the journey here. The weather will be better, in any case. "You must meet Denen, our healer. He will want to know about herbs and such from these northern places."

[Oluse]

Oluse thought upon the words, his silence stretching out for some moments after Sama'el ordered his commands. His father, Oluse played with the idea in his mind. He had a father, a man who no doubt daren't utter his name... Oluse still found the concept foreign, and in a way blasphemous. To nobody else, then Virates. Still he would give it a try, he wasn't sure any longer of much. He thought his name was still with him, but wondered in that moment if Oluse Fortis-Saro perhaps might be a mask, a feigned persona he put forth for feigned strength. He decided, for no other reason than curiosity, and the fact he had given his word to follow such orders, that Oluse would attempt to see Sama'el this way. In truth, he had trouble visualizing any more than an older brother in that moment. He imagined all fathers to have obtained a fair amount more wrinkles, as some sort of prerequisite.

The rest of Sama'els words caught up to him quickly as he released that idea. The 37th. Sure, as good a time as any. Oluse wanted to go that moment, to run away without a word. He couldn't think, in that moment, a single reason to remain so long. He understood this was outside his power, however, so he nodded acceptingly without protest. Such was not his nature.

To the request to learn of herbs Oluse knew exactly the response, and spoke such. "There are many valuable herbs in Avanthal, and along even the Tundra. Most useful herbs will need to be purchased and brought with us, however. I would be honored," it was true, "to help your healer with local herbs." He missed working with herbs, his brief days of work in the cellars, which had all but slipped away since new novices had moved into Oluse's old position.

And, then, he actually smiled, for though the work of a physician was valuable, and demanded, his true passion rest in dank dungeons with musty herbs, bubbling distilleries and dried leaves. The merest thought excited him, and calmed his nerves. Passion breathed life into him, and he stood up straighter before the Drykas. He would prove his worth, his place, as he had to every coworker and patient to grace him in Avanthal.

With that he gave his address, so that Sama'el and company could find him, and his place of work, ready to leave Sama'el, his new adopted father, in peace.

[Macabre]

Thread Award

Sama’el
XP: Leadership +1, Negotiation +1
Lore: N/A

Oluse
XP: Negotiation +1
Lore: Suppressing Childlike Behaviour, The Way Sama’el Travels

Notes: Nice, concise thread. Sorry I could not award more. If you have any questions about the grade please PM me.