Location [Entrance] The Rolling Waves

[Felthuen Snowsong]

25th of Summer, 514AV

Felthuen, unsurprisingly, was scribbling away in his music book when the sailors above began shouting, readying the ship for docking as the port of Zeltiva came into sight. The bard smiled as he continued his notations, hearing the rhythm of feet stomping around and the creaking of the wooden vessel as the wind propelled it along. The ship was a myriad of sounds and noises; some rhythmic, others cacophonous. The bard loved all of the noise, whether it was the sound of the sailors cursing or the wind causing the sails to flap noisily. It was all music to his ears, and Felthuen was already working on how to turn the sounds of sailing into something with lyrics!

After the vessel had shipped out from Syliras, Felthuen had become an unexpected source of entertainment for the men and women aboard. He was more than happy to tell stories and perform for them during the trip each and every night. Oftentimes he was found out on deck during the day, practicing his flute playing and giving the sailors something to listen to other than their own panting grunts and the lapping waves brushing against the boat. Felthuen was far from the best entertainment they could have had, but he certainly wasn’t the worst!

When the bard wasn’t practicing his flute or regaling his fellow passengers with tales of adventure, he was found writing away in his journal or his music book; composing and writing lyrics as they came to him. He had hoped to finish the piece by the time they had reached Zeltiva but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen if land was already in sight.

Felthuen returned his work into its place in his pack and slung it around his shoulder and headed topside. He was promptly greeted by bright sunlight that nearly blinded him and the sound of birds screeching as they soared through the air. Felthuen looked around and took note of the extra bounce in the steps of some of the sailors, the smiles that seemed contagious across their faces. They were just as happy to be reaching Zeltiva as were their passengers; many of them were probably returning home to their families.

He wondered what his own family was doing right then. Was his mother working on her mural, the one she had started a few days before her son had left? Was his father off teaching the younger members of the hold how to write down musical notes? Was there a party happening in his hold for a wisdom day of one of their elders?

Felthuen would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss Avanthal or his family that remained there. But just as he yearned to be back there, he would yearn to be outside of it the moment he returned; a vicious cycle of wanting what he couldn’t have! No, as much as he would miss his home under Morwen’s watchful eye, he knew that the world had too many tantalizing stories for him to uncover before he could hope to return. He’d go absolutely, stark-raving mad if he had to listen to the same stories of past Pavintu Jantas again!

As he looked upon the sight of Zeltiva’s harbor slowly approaching, Felthuen could just see the stories and songs yet to be written, hidden amongst the sailors and students that resided there…

“Song-weaver!”

Felthuen turned to see one of the other passengers, Gideon, coming to stand next to him. Gideon clapped an arm around Felthuen’s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. Poor fellow had been sea-sick since the start of the voyage; the bard doubted that none were happier to see land than him!

“What can I do for you, my friend?” Felthuen promptly putting his arm around the other man’s shoulders as well.

“Could you sing for us one last time, eh? Give us all a good send-off?”

“I’d be happy to, though you might haveta settle for hearing a repeated tune! I’m afraid I’ve exhausted my supply throughout the trip.”

“Bah,” Gideon waved his hand as if swatting away an insect. “We don’t care what you play, s’long as it’s catchy and uplifting!”

“I think I’ve just the thing,” Felthuen chuckled and went below deck once more to retrieve his flute, already humming the anthem under his breath.

With any luck, he’d have new songs to sing when he departed Zeltiva with the next crew he sailed with.

[Markus Andres]

14-Summer-514

It was around dinner time Markus realized as him and his travelling companien, an ever-lovely Konti healer rode through the entrance to the city of Zeltiva. From Mirahil's pass and looking over the city, he realized how little he had actually missed the city. Nothing about it drew forth fond memories. Not even the sails in the distance that as a young kid had caused him to clap his hands in excitement. Now they only reminded him of the disastrous trip to Sahova and the death of knights. Friends. Comrades. Brothers and sisters of the sword. He scanned the city from the advantage point. Saw the old buildings he recognized. Several new ones he had no clue were. He sought for where he knew his family still lived. Where they kept at home. But age had erased the location from his mind. At least from an eagle perspective. On the ground level he would be able to find it with next to no trouble. That he was confident of. But first, he had to get in to the city proper. Find a location to sleep. For despite his intentions to reunite with his family, he was not going to spend more time in his ancestral home than he petching had to.

I don't even have a petching clue where the taverns lie. Will just have to ask someone on the road.

Markus' frown had only intensified as he glared hard at the city sprawled before him. Much had changed. Much had stayed the same. The horse trotted onwards and Markus felt the annoyance settle upon his features. The weight of armour on his shoulders, the weight of memories he found unpleasant returning to him. But at least their journey was finally over and they could get to the business that had compelled him on this foolish journey. What did he expect would happen. A miracle cure for all his terrible memories.

Stop. Be positive. Try to at least. Did little to alleviate his anger. He threw a glance at his companion and simply nodded in the direction of the harbour. Ought to be someplace for them to get a place to sleep around there. Would also have to find a place to keep their horses. Things he could deal with as they came. No need to worry needlessly as the two would venture further into the city of Zeltiva.

Welcome home, I suppose.

[S'Essy]

AV 514 summer 14th

It was just so long... no too long riding for her. She didn't know how long could she bear the pain that was caused by the riding. Though this day should be the last. Or at least she hoped, they planned it with Markus to be 30 days only. She was looking at Sergeant Knight and was about to ask " Are we there yet?" Though she didn't do it as she noticed the city lying in front of them. "Finally..." she said with a big sigh. Just a little, the finish was close.

At least she could get know a new city. New culture probably, new people, it was always fun and she was always looking forward to it. Also this was Markus's birthtown which even made it even more interesting for her. Only heard from him, never seen it. But one thing she knew already, Laviku was here. Finally she could swim after this long journey, she needed it. She had to gain back her strength.

She took another look at Markus. Wondering what kind of thoughts he had. He was home at last. Although he looked a bit annoyed. Not sure what came to his mind... maybe his old memories. She felt she should be silent till they get to a tavern or whatever was his plan. He nodded in the direction of the harbour. She was following him to there. The Journey ends finally and they have arrived.

[Flaren Ferno]

clippit clop clipppity clop, the shakking of the wagon carrying Flaren rolled over the hill so that the sunlight hit Flaren and the other two lonely travelers. He looked much better than the other two, however that didnt keep him from shooting he breeze a bit as everyone woke up. A lengthy stretch was shared between the three as they reached the entrance of Zeltiva.

[Claire]

25 Fall, 514 AV

The subtle sigh of a breeze brought with it the gentle beatings of wings upon the air as a frosthawk flew across the land, high in the sky, to circle about the sea-bordering city of Zeltiva. A golden eye cocked down towards the city streets surveyed for a moment's time before the bird fluttered down upon the winds, taking a perch on a steeple on the academy. Little did the city know, there was a new visitor...