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[Reaver Riatal]

Winter 4th, Morning 512 AV

"Shyke! Shyke! Shyke! Shyke!" These words echoed down the street as a certain young man found himself late for an appointed meeting. Though the street had few to wander in the hour of early day he still found himself dodging by people and objects alike. His long legs carried him as fast as they'd dare go, his brown boots thumping on the ground as he took his breaths. With a mess of black hair flying around in the wind of his speed his sharp blue eyes struggling to pick out a path in the streets. His red coat was a flutter behind him like a cape caught by a gale. The morning was very brisk though as the young man known as Reaver ran past man, woman, child and crate. His perspiration kept him warm both from panic and the unwanted exercise. This morning had started off as a mess of confusion as to where he was and why he was in a bed when the last thing he remember was fire and an alley. Walking the halls of the Blue Moon Inn he managed to come across its proprietor and request information about last night. Stiring up his mind as he ate breakfast his mind hazed from last night's alcohol. With what little she knew he had to try to piece together his evening on his own. And so in the midst of struggling to recall last nights adventure he only recently remembered what he had promised. Not so much promise more a request. And it was very rude to request something of a person and be late.

And to add insult to injury Reaver had swiftly found himself lost in the streets, the path back to the Kelp bar remained fogged and a mystery to him. His legs burned as he felt he had run to everywhere in Zeltiva BUT his desired destination. Taking off once more he managed to slip and fall landing on his back. Groaning he lay there a moment, an upstanding citizen came to his aid. Helping him to his feet, taking this chance Reaver quickly inquired the time. Finding he was almost twenty full chimes late, he quickly asked his second question with a breath full of panic and worry. Where the petch was the Kelp Bar, thankfully rather than some snide remark of drinking before dark. The man pointed him in the direction and even told him what turns to make. With a hasty thank you and a promise to repay the debt one day Reaver was off once more. Heading at full speed down the street, making a left then a right and seeing the familiar building of the bar let his legs fall limp. Catching himself on the side of the building as his lugs fought for air. His head hung down, eyes caught to the ground, far to embarrassed to look up and see if his companion had indeed been waiting.

Not that he could even apologize right now, his limbs felt numb and his breath was still not yet his own. Leaning hard against the building he steadily began to feel the heat of pain grace his back. His shoulder also flared up nicely in wake of his recent fall. Battered, a little beaten, and with a fresh coat of sweat on his brow. He hoped that his contact was here, the young boy known as Atticus. Standing up right before he was ready he felt the blood rush from his head and into the rest of his body. His vision became blurred and wild as he looked around not yet able to focus his eyes. The sharp blue scanned around searching for what he could barely see. Looking wildly around he began to wonder. Had he been lied to or was he just daft? Had he passed it in his blind panic? It was a possibility but unlikely. As his vision began to settle he let out another long held breath trying to regain himself. Though many where born to do such physical labor in the morning. He was not among this group who so easily managed to exceed physical limits. The mind was his pursuit, knowledge and its uses, and of course magic. As his mind and body began to settle into one focus he looked around again. Hoping to see the young lad.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Arianthe, as Atticus, dressed in men's clothes (dark burgundy red velvet breeches and sleeveless doublet, simple but well cut, white shirt and shiny knee-high leather brown boots. Bandaged back her chest, and a wig of shoulder-length brown hair, cut in the fashion) had been waiting for close to five minutes when she finally caught sight of Reaver.

She had left her room that morning rather later than she had anticipated because she had had trouble with strands of hair falling out of her wig. When she had finally fixed it, she realised that she was fifteen minutes late and had had to walk very briskly. Fortunately, it was clear that Reaver had also had a problem getting to the Kelp Bar on time. At first she wondered if he had got lost on the way which was most plausible since he was new to the city. Waiting for him, she sat down against a wall, pulling her knees to her chest and looking at the sky. Even in the winter season, a pack of birds were swooping across the sky... she supposed they were the type that didn't migrate and she continued watching them. They cut an impressive figure - dark shapes on an icy blue sky with a hint of lilac, reminding her of a painting they use to have above the chimneypiece in the dining room when she was a child.

It was then that she saw him, his long legs making him a tall figure, cutting through the crowd, easy to spot. Arianthe stood up, brushing the dust off her clothes. With a light smile, and pulling the leather rucksack she had over one shoulder, she moved over closer but he did not seem to notice her, indeed he looked quite dizzy and almost bewildered, unfocused. She wondered if he was alright, or maybe suffering from a hangover. It was therefore with a mixed greeting and inquiry on his state of health that she tapped him from behind on the shoulder.

"Good Morning. Are you alright?"

[Reaver Riatal]

The world seemed to shake and wobble a little bit, over exerting ones self certainly felt. Oh petch this he couldn't think quite right at the moment. Not with his body still in shambles from the run. Closing his eyes and trying to regain the reins of focus it was then he was interrupted. A tapping on his shoulder forcing him to turn his attention to a young lad standing just beside him. After just a few moments he began to recognize the young boy. Atticus! And what's better the boy didn't seem angered or disgruntled by the fact he was so late. At least not from what he could tell his mind was still a flurry with confusion. Though he heard the greeting and the quarry as to his well being. Trying to offer a response though he only succeeded in opening his mouth and smacking his lips together. He had no breath on which to let his words carry forth, so instead he raised a lanky red clad arm. Putting a black gloved finger skyward as it begged for a chime. Reaver found that taking long and quick breaths helped to regain himself, after a few long and even lung fulls of air. He steadied himself as he managed to get his words and head right.

Turning to Atticus with a face that still had weary signs of exertion, flushed with embarrassment and exertion. With a final long breath he let his sharp blue eyes settled onto the young boys. "Ah yes, good Atticus, I am, slightly without breath. If I have kept you, waiting for long, I apologize. Events conspired and sought to prevent my arrival. I am sorry for being so late, oh right already said that." He was still working on getting the rest of his breath back. Trying to take in long and slow breaths he stabilized as he leaned against the wall, putting his weight on it. The young boy was far easier to study in the light. And once again he caught himself noticing just how feminine this boy was. Though the took in mind he was no exemplar of masculine perfection. However he had plenty of discerning features to prove his gender easily. He gave closer examination and could have sworn he saw a strand of blonde hair. Maybe the lad was getting a little something before their meet up. A smile spread across his lips as he reached up with his hand and plucked the hair. Looking at it and then the boy he only offered a chuckle as he examined it. He didn't say anything though, this was far more entertaining in his head. And besides they had business to attend to. "Right, I'm alright, its a fair and lovely morning. Lets get to sight seeing!"

[Arianthe Swansong]

"Do not worry about being late - I was rather so myself. I am afraid I am not usually the most punctual of people... life keeps on catching up with me." Arianthe smiled but just then, he plucked a strand of hair suddenly from where it had landed on her shoulder and Arianthe flushed violently, so that she immediately had to look away, wondering what he was thinking. Maybe, if she used her auristics, she could discern this?

"I was..." She struggled to find a reason why the blonde hair was not hers, "I was visiting a cousin."

At this, she decided to abruptly change the subject. She thought that, since they were near the docks, they might start out going towards the Cerulean Pier, but she also knew that that was more beautiful when the sunset so she had moved this to last place in the grand tour. Instead, they could make their way from the docks, through the market and the main shopping district to the old city centre, where such things as the Fountain of Cascading Harmony was. Then he might like some food and she knew a good inn in the area that had excellent food. After that, the University of Zeltiva... things were as he wished.

[Reaver Riatal]

Watching the young Atticus go flush and turn away from his gaze. He heard the reason for the hair on the young boy's shoulder and he found him infinitely disappointing. Indeed it proved that his imagination served to be more entertaining, however unless the young lad had a thing for his cousin. He presumed he had a more romantic meeting had taken place. It forced a giggle and nodded to Atticus as he watched the young boy move on. Ignoring what could have been a fun little tease between the two. He didn't really mind it though, there would be other opportunities for such delightful moments.

Seeing as it'd best not to let his money go to waist he followed after Atticus, his long strides needing to be cut in half to keep from overstepping his young guide. Looking around as he tried to familiarize himself with the path they where taking. Trying to understand and imprint it into his memory. Though he would never remember it with just a day, he could at least learn the names of shops. With luck though he'd be able to navigate it at least once of his own.

Looking to the young man he let out a sigh as his sharp blue eyes, his black hair framed around his head. Gently flopping with each shortened stride, coughing lightly he had a small feeling Atticus had remained silent since he had noticed the hair. Perhaps he had made him awkward? Oh well, it would be best to strike up some form of conversation. This way they could become better acquainted at the least. "Right then, my faithful and friendly guide! Where is our first destination to?" A charming smile sprouted on his lips as he looked down at the boy.

[Arianthe Swansong]

The Shopping District in Zeltiva was one of the many prolific ones in Mizahar and one could see a whole myriad of shops selling an eclectic assortment of odds and ends, so Arianthe felt that it was only right that in a grand tour of the city, more than simply historical and religious sites needed to be seen by the great tourist. The businesses too were reputed and well worth seeing, especially with their windows dressed up with many different colours and objects, all in order to attempt to out-surpass each other for the favour of the clientele. Arianthe cut through the market easily, but slowly, so that Reaver would be able to look at everything around him and, if needed, they could stop while he went in to see the merchandise.

Every now and again, Arianthe would point out the sights that were around them and the famous shops, even the famous citizens.

"Over there is Treasures of the Sea." she said, as they passed a building, between the Trade Shop and the General Store the only one not made out of granite, "You can find some very interesting things there."
Indeed you could - when Arianthe had been a child, she had found a mother of pearl box lined with red velvet in there full of 'treasures', costume jewellery, all worthless, but it looked like the secret hoard of a long-forgotten Queen. The owner, a man who had never aged, had simply smiled at her wonder and accepted the two mizas which she had held out in payment. Inside, there had been a 'tiara' a wooden crown painted gold, a collection of different bangles in all different colours, a pair of golden earrings which, when she got home and since she did not have pierced ears, she attached to a piece of string she had painted red and worn around her neck. Many other things too... Arianthe sighed. It had been years ago. She wondered where those things were now.

"Our first destination is the Fountain of Cascading Harmony, but feel free to take us off track if you are inclined."

[Reaver Riatal]

Smiling he watched the sights move by, the finely decorated stores. The people, places and things all seemed to share a similar air about them. A black gloved hand rose to his chin and stroked lightly. The leather making a light scraping noise as he stroked his chin. He found it quite entertaining though he wished his guide would actually converse with him rather than just point out places. Stories, tales of old that would bring joy to a heart. Though he wasn't ungrateful he planned on paying in full for the service. As his brown boots thumped along the stone beneath his feet he found himself lingering a few times at a few stores. The General Store held some mild interest though it quickly waned as he found it lacked the large imposing granite of most pre-Valterrian structures. In short he felt far less of a history to it and by that extension no interesting stories.

Though the moment he spotted some alcohol imported from outside of Zeltiva he lingered a moment. Walking slow as he examined the bottles, ale, wine, beer, and rum. Though he wasn't able to catch the prices he had a feeling he'd be coming back to check on them. And if he sought a more merry mood he may very well blow off every miza he has on them. About as smart a choice as going for a swim in glacial water, but after the first two bottles he had a feeling he'd not really care. Noticing that his guide was waiting he quickened his pace to catch up. Smiling as thoughts of drinking himself under a table once in a while was appealing it would have to come later. Say when a job came into his grasp perhaps he might be able to afford to get drunk off of such sweet nectar. For now he merely had to resist. A task he found surprisingly difficult.

Letting out a disappointed sigh he looked around taking in the sights a moment longer. Atticus announced their destination and he quickly tried to recall the directions of how he got here. Distracted once more he blinked and looked to his young friend. "Fountain of Cascading Harmony? What on Mizahar is the purpose of such a place? Is it just a place to stop and think or something. Also are there no stories to be heard? Does this place not have an entertaining tale anywhere to be seen? Or are you holding out on me my young companion. Come now I heard Zeltiva had a few interesting tales~" He smiled charming to his guide, hoping the boy would actually talk with him.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Arianthe realised she was failing in her role as a guide when the flurry of questions hit her. She smiled lightly, and proceeded to try and make amends for her lack of conversation up until that point. "I apologise for not being a better guide and pointing out more to you." she paused, "The Fountain of Cascading Harmony is very beautiful and really quite old - a staple of Zeltiva and of artistic and historical interest as well as religious. Of course it is very popular and there are almost always crowds around it, but that is no reason to turn one's nose up and dismiss is as a place to draw in visitors and nothing else, especially as I believe in the overriding good sense and taste of the general populace of Zeltiva. Indeed with such a large student community I feel it can't fail to be the case." They were not far from it now. "You should come back through this route late at night or in the early morning - it is the best time to appreciate the architecture in something close to silence and the lighting on a clear-skied early morning is perfect at this time of year to make the scenes come to life in an almost surreal way." As for tales however, she was not sure what he wanted. If he was asking for gossip and rumours about the citizens of the city and there many goings-on, she did not know anything. If he was asking for folklore, she did not know where to start. Stories set in the city might not be relevant. Of course, he might be wanting a personal account and though she could supply that, she did not want to bore him with her past. Indeed, she would have felt offended if he had shown no interest in what she said. "There used to be a travelling company which would set up for two nights every Spring by the fountain. Their act was a form of exotic dance and was widely known throughout Mizahar for being avant-garde and even a little libertine, but still very beautiful and more wild and free than vulgar. My brother took me once when I was small, even though he probably should not have, but I found nothing very scandalous about it. Perhaps the nudity could be considered so since the whole dance involves the whole company taking layers of clothes and veils off one by one, but it just seemed liberating." Arianthe smiled slightly at the memory. "They haven't come in a few years. I don't know why... I heard they were travelling with Endrykas at one point." The crowds were thickening indicating that they were not that far away from the fountain. A minute and Reaver would be able to see it for himself.

[Reaver Riatal]

Smiling with joy as it spread strong across his face as his friend began to talk with him. With an almost eager intent he leaned in and listened to his companion. He slowly let his body bend back into place as the young boy began to explain himself. The way the young man had listed of the lore of the fountain brought one of his eyebrows to raise. Reaver was rather religious himself, he held not one god or goddess to his heart. Finding that to displease one was not very wise, especially from the stories he had heard in Syliras. Particularly however he found himself praying to those who offered or represented the pursuits he was after. A few he knew and occasionally prayed to, and others more out of respect. The latter he didn't often pray to unless either circumstance or memory permits such actions. There where of course divine beings he didn't exactly enjoy, but he'd be an idiot to not recognize their necessitous existence. However he had become distracted and managed to pull his head from the clouds to look around.

The crowds where starting to pick up and it was becoming harder to hear his young companion. Leaning back in to lend his ear he blinked a few times as he described the scenic value of the fountain. Thinking of teasing the poor boy once they reached their destination. Though as they approached he practically had to put a hand on the child's shoulder as they weaved through the crowds. His red coat constantly assaulted by moving elbows and ignorant children who kept bumping into his long legs.

Regardless of this Reaver did his best to listen to Atticus' story. Not often did he get to hear a good tale and though he preferred to listen while a little intoxicated. He'd enjoy this regardless if he was drunk or not. Though Atticus seemed to have no other thoughts about the dancers he spoke of, Reaver had more than half a mind to go and hunt them down in Endrykas. He doubted he could find the camp on his own but if he did get to meet them it would be worth it from what he described. Honestly he hoped that the dancers would come to Zeltiva. A light blush ran across his face though he quickly disposed of the thoughts as he looked to Atticus once more.

He was rather curious as the fact that his brother had taken him to a show at a young age. And honestly he didn't expect such a strange description of dancers that, well removed clothing. Not to mention the strange words he had chose, scandalous? The boy either came from a very well of family or was perhaps more feminine than he had thought. He had heard men use those words before but he also noticed those men had a rather concerning lack of interest in women. He quickly shook his head desperate to get those thoughts from his mind. Reaver wasn't about to rid himself of a potential friend for a reason as silly as that. Especially when his mind was merely fabricating ridiculous possibilities. Turning his focus around him he noticed they had breached the perimeter of the fountain. He knew now that he could see it, and his sharp blue eyes spread with wonder.

His curiosity began to bug him once more, wondering who had made this? Who had done such expert craftsmanship! More importantly how had it survived with such beauty for all these years?! As his curiosity peeked he looked at the boy another set of questions ready. "I see, now that is quite the story! Though I must ask as to why your brother would take a boy to such a show? Also do you think they'd come back this year? OH! And do you have any more lore about the fountain? Its magnificent! Look at me prattle on, I'm sorry I must be a horrid tourist right now. But I must thank you good boy for showing me this!" Reaver's smile spread fast across his face as he placed a hand on the kids head ruffling his hair with some affection. He looked at the fountain and thought. "So I'm guessing you've brought one a many dates here eh?" He just couldn't resist the opportunity to say it. Yes he was annoying, and perhaps a little evil at times like this, but there was something just funny about peoples embarrassed expressions. Quickly he looked to Atticus wondering what delight his eyes would behold!

[Arianthe Swansong]

Why did her brother take her to such a show? Arianthe smiled, not expecting Reaver to be able to understand, "Valiant was like that. I do not know if he thought it was educational or simply something that he felt I had to see. We would often go to the theatre or something else of that sort, but it was a completely different form of entertainment so another way of expanding my knowledge of culture. I was nine at the time and it was one of the last things we did together before he went on a business trip for my father with Dorian." Arianthe looked away, "They never returned." She had to change the subject, "Anyway, do not be shocked that he took me to see such a thing. Although they were naked, you never really saw anything for long enough to think about it and as a child, I suppose nudity is a more natural thing. As for whether they will come back this year, maybe. It has been a while, though I do not think I will go to see it again." She did not expand on this. As a nine year old girl, she had been tiny enough with her brother's great height and his heavy, floor-length cloak in the dark to move almost completely invisible in his path. Of course, she would never be able to go as a woman of eighteen years and, even if she went as Atticus, she felt that without Valiant there, the memories would be too much for her to handle. "I rather object slightly to being called 'good' boy," said Arianthe, finding something quite patronising in the expression, "But not at all to the level of questions or talking. It gives me basis for conversation and, as for you being a tourist, again I do not mind." At that moment, she had to grab on to her wig quickly as he ruffled her hair and she felt a few strands escaping from the back. Mercifully, she was deft enough to tuck them back in quickly and she did not think he had noticed. He had also tried to embarrass her with a question about romantic liaisons and, realising that he had, it made her determined not to be embarrassed. She did not say anything at all, instead her dark eyes looked straight into his blue ones with an enigmatic half-a-smile, jutting out her chin, as if she knew something he did not. Hopefully, that would irritate him and he would not seek to embarrass her again in the future. "I hope you like the fountain."