The Harbor [Post here first]

[Caesarion]

Caesarion stood on the docks, his master standing beside him. He was not collared or chained, as that would only diminish him. He was a slave of talent, beauty and worldly wisdom. He had gone through much and had left his past in an empowered, ruthless, and deadly state. He knew better than to run and hide, and Telemaran knew that. He would stand with pride as the man's object of intrigue, the silk dress that he'd show off to his friends: a human in the prime of his youth, filled with ambition and power, then taken in like livestock by the whims of another.

"Come, Caesarion," the master told him.

And he obeyed.

- - - - -

Music, I remember that. It was a song I'd heard before, in my youth, by the voices and the chords of some famous Ravokian trio. They were known as "The Second Voice", and all loved them for their talents. Their music ranged from dubious and comical mockeries of Syliran culture and faith, to simply enjoyable compositions, to songs about the glory and faith of Ravok. Of course, as a child, glory and faith are easy to swallow. It was not until adulthood that I began to question my dedication to my city, and around that time, I left my home to experience the world. It was reckless, wild, and stupid. I did it anyway. I moved to Syliras and started a life there, barely scraping by but finding friends in strange places and encounters that I still recall with joy today.

There was Gallagher, oh, Gallagher. I miss him so much. I would write to him and lie up a storm to make him think I'm happy. Last time we spoke, I told him I was moving to Zeltiva, which I was. Little did he know I'd soon come to be enslaved, one big jump in the right direction being contorted into a foul monster of a miscalculation. I really loved him for who he was. I would say that he was my closest friend throughout my entire life, always having my back and always happy to see me. I wanted to be with him. It's silly to say that considering I ran off to another city, but I had a deep and repressed desire in my heart and it all belonged to him. My Gallagher.

Then, Aoren, who I was taken from on the road. He was something of a friend of mine, though I'd betrayed him so many times. He always, always looked out for me though, and was willing to forgive me. I think I probably made him very sad, but he made me the opposite; he, alongisde Gally, brought me the small semblance of joy I experienced after leaving Ravok. His ability to be strong, always, and think selflessly for the sake of others . . . that sort of thing brings me hope. He was my inspiration for my dream: freeing the slaves of my city, leading even mangled and bruised bodies to salvation. He showed me that real kindness existed. Although now, he probably thinks I'm dead.

As for my dogs, Max and Argos . . .

I remember the hunt. The chase. When the slavers cornered me, I ran to the trees and tried desperately to hide myself wherever I could. My dogs stayed with me, protected me, warned me of approaching predators. They kept me going for as long as I could manage before eventually they were slain by arrows, recklessly assaulting one of my attackers. They died heroically. I thought I was to die too.

To be honest, I don't think the perception that one witnesses their life before it ends is necessarily true. Many people in this world die screaming and in resistance, very few doing so on their bed or through other peaceful means. When their blades and arrows came to face me, I did not resist. I knew it was over. I didn't scream. I just dreamed. I thought about everything that I'd ever done wrong, and right, and everything I wanted to accomplish . . . everything I really did accomplish, too. Perhaps my tranquility at that moment was what spared me, and allowed me to continue to live. I do not know. But I am here.

[Amisyria Sivali]

5th of Spring, 515 AV

“So this is where Hope goes to die…”

Amisyria stood at the railing of the Kova III staring out at the island known as Sahova. Even thinking the name made the hairs on the back of her neck stand out. She couldn’t say exactly what it was that had drawn her to take the steps away from Sunberth. Yet there she was sailing toward the dreary citadel spoken of only in whispers. But even a whisper seemed like a clap of thunder in the dead silence that clung to the shores of the island. The sailors that went about their duties on the deck kept quiet. Perhaps it was out of reverence for the lack of civilized noise? Or was it because they feared that the sinister mysteries of Sahova would suddenly swoop down and consume them should they break it? She didn’t know.

One hand clutched the railing of the ship so tightly her knuckles were almost white. It was only when her fingers began to pain her that she released her grip instead hugging the cloak about her frame more snugly. Though the gods had seen fit to visit life back into the once decrepit soil on the mainland, the chill that clung to her made her believe this a forsaken place. In her other hand she carried all of her worldly possessions tucked safely away in the interior of a backpack.

“Traveling a little light aren’t you, Miss? I suppose that’s a good thing. One thing is certain, no good comes from this place.” Amisyria turned her gaze away from the island to the sailor who had broken the silence. He was likely just entering the prime of his life. His stance was nervous. His brown eyes kept flicking from the other sailors to the pier. Her eyes assessed him speedily before she returned her gaze to the land once again. She spoke, her tone matter of fact.

“She is certain of only two things. On this day she is either walking through the gates of her future or Mother Dira has called her name.” Amisyria cast the sailor a glance as the ship began to pull into the pier. The slosh of water against the hull of the ship made her sway slightly forcing her to use the railing for balance. She gave the sailor a nod. He merely stared at her uncomprehending.

Amisyria steadied herself before stepping away and toward the gangway being lowered onto the pier. Her arrival to Sahova was accompanied by no stores of vast arcane knowledge. She was armed with nothing but her own wit and the discipline instilled in her through a harsh life. The clothes she wore had seen much better days. Not an object on her person could be considered anything or worth but for all that she might as well have been a queen with the way she swept past everyone and onward to her future.

Amisyria was a woman who had lost everything, gained something and lost all of it again. She had nothing in this world but herself. She kept her head held high though every instinct in her body bade her turn and flee back to the pit that was Sunberth. What did she have to go back to? Nothing. She would find herself here, here on an island shrouded in mystery. And through it all she would cling to the skills that had kept her alive, her patience and her resolve. But most of all it would be her seething hate for the life that she was given and the life that she was denied that would keep her trudging onward.

That would have to be enough.

[Bianca White]

5th of Spring, 515 AV

For a girl who had grown up in the bustling port city of intellectuals, the normal sounds of a dock not stemming from the aptly named Port Silence was a shock. Bianca's own trip on the Kova III had been rather uneventful for her, and she had generally kept to herself the entire 20 days. Unfortunately for the young, up-and-coming lawyer, she had to leave the only place she had known because of complications with one of the wealthiest families in the region. This left Bianca White with one place to go. She had opted for Sahova rather than Syliras almost exclusively because of Keene. She knew no one in Syliras, and from what she understood, she wouldn't fit in after living in the relative freedom that Zeltiva provided. Not that Syliras was necessarily a bad place - but if anything, she wanted familiarity.

Her parents did not want to see her leave, though they understood somewhat why she had to go. They weren't the brightest, intellectually, but they were damn smart. That was all that mattered. Bianca knew that she was at a disadvantage here more than she had been at in Zeltiva - she knew no magic, and she knew not how to act or carry herself. She knew of the Nuit, and she knew that many lived here, but her knowledge ended there.

She had sent no letter warning Keene of her arrival. It was for the better, she thought, watching the island draw nearer. It was unfortunate enough that she had to leave Zeltiva, but perhaps even more unfortunate that her destination had been Sahova. Bianca knew she would have to adapt, and quickly. She knew she was not prepared for whatever was going to happen.

And for the first time in a long time, she was dreading her future.

A sailor walked up to her, his face passive. "We're almost there, miss. If you don't mind me asking, why are you even here?" She turned to him, her passivity matching his own.

"I had no choice." Which was a complete lie - she did have a choice. But even as she left the ship, head held high enough to promote her confidence but not so high as to suggest pride, she was worried if she made the right one. Her only goal for now was to find familiarity, and that meant finding Keene.

[Kamilla]

Kamilla Circe Gordon

5th of Spring, 515AV

The faint sounds of water and wood creaking under pressure were all that could be heard amongst the eerie silence that seemed to envelope the mysterious island, a silence that not even the crew or passengers of the Kova III were willing to disturb. As the ship pulled into the harbour, which was completely absent of any of the hustle and bustle that Kamilla had come to associate with harbours, she could feel an unusual aura about the strange place. She hadn't even gotten off of the ship yet, but the icy chill of dread was making it's way down her spine. The island felt wrong, too silent, too empty, alien in many aspects, but it was too late for her to turn back now, perhaps not literally, but Kamilla had already made the decision to see what Sahova had to offer her and was far too stubborn to turn back now, even as her body tensed with anxiety.

With the arrival of the new year, Kamilla had packed her required possessions into a bag and made for new horizons, leaving her job at Yvette's Dresses For All Occasions, her house and her life back in Zeltiva. She had every intention of returning one day, be it after a single season on Sahova or any length of time longer than that, she could not be certain. However, she was certain that the island dedicated to magical research and development held opportunity for her, something the young mage had been searching for for several years with little success, she could only hope that death wasn't counted amongst those opportunities, she was sure she could handle anything else, or at least she thought so.

As the Kova III's journey to Sahova finally came to an end, Kamilla found herself wondering why none of the crew or its passengers were making their way off of the ship, it wasn't as if anyone or thing in the harbour was stopping them, it wasn't as if there was anyone or anything in the harbour at all. Her assumption was almost immediately proved wrong as she noticed an unusual looking creature rolling up to greet them, it wasn't until after it had inquired about the ship's contents that Kamilla, having drawn nearer, was shocked to discover that the thing was an animated construct, one that far surpassed anything she had ever seen or created in all her years. With her curiosity peaked, Kamilla took the first step off of the ship and towards what she hoped would be an enlightening chapter of her life.

"Sahova, here I come..."

[Aedifalse]

515-SPRING-74

The Saga Shooter arrived at the famed Port of Sahova, and the severe silence was what Aedi noticed at first. Having spent his fair amount of time traveling while moving from Sultros, he knew to expect land whenever he heard the hustle and bustle of civilization. However, this time there was almost complete silence with the exception of the crew's murmuring amongst each other.

Making his way down to the harbor, he looked around to find an obvious path leading to the Citadel. He was not a stranger to foreign environments, but even this place was beginning to unnerve him. Gulping, he steeled himself and gathered his courage, reminding himself the reason of his arrival in this god-forsaken place. With a prayer to Izurdin, he marched down the path, ready to face the wondrous challenges and dangers the island had to offer to him.

I am ready, Sahova!

[Ingrid]

65th of Spring, 515 AV

Kova III pulled into the Sahova harbor. As the crew went about the task of fastening lines, setting down gangplank, and moving cargo, Ingrid stared out at the barren landscape. The only evidence of life was a thin shell of hardy trees about the island's perimeter. Three lonely piers jutted out into the placid waters. No bustle of commerce awaited the senses there. Just a very queer and palpable silence. It was all very alien to Ingrid. Beyond the dock, she could see a row of unimpressive buildings. Farther up, the citadel itself loomed. Ingrid could not notice every curve and colonnade of the wondrous Alahean architecture from her current proximity, but she would admire it soon enough.

When at last she was able to disembark, she found the thing that comforted her most about the mysterious island, was the presence of a single automaton. Its simple cylindrical shape and locomotion via wheels fascinated her despite perhaps falling a little short of her expectations. The construct greeted her in its monotone voice, the scent of metal and gears drifted to her nose. She squared her shoulders up confidently and said:

"My name is Ingrid Rowley. My purpose here is to further my training in Animation and use that skill to assist in the creation process of constructs. I also have some ability in metalsmithing and gadgeteering."

Ingrid had an itching curiosity to poke and prod the construct to see how this particular one was built. But not wanting to violate any rules after she had only just gotten there, Ingrid bit her lip and waited to be escorted inside.

[Evhor]

35th of Summer, 515 AV Evhor had expected no great port, but the harbor of Sahova was humble at the very least. The young man considered it from the dock of Kova III, the ship that was slowly approaching it, and shrugged. He soon would have different, much graver thoughts to burden his mind and soul. Around him, the sailors worked hard and fast like ants, yelling orders at each other in tongues Evhor couldn't even start to understand. The fingers of his left hand tapped impatiently on the wood, while his right hand casually rested on his hip. At some point, he was asked to move from where he was standing and he did move, finding himself a spot where his presence wouldn't bother the sailors. When he finally jumped off the ship, he staggered for a moment, unused to the solid, stable earth under his feet, and padded on uncertain feet towards the Citadel. He felt his heart skip a beat. He had finally made it. He was in Sahova. Finally he would have had a chance to become the mage he dreamed to begin. He felt like a vibration running up his spine and exploding in his head in a blinding flare of emotions. He was ready to begin.

[Mordrion]

Summer, 11th, 515 AV

The Saga Shooter had docked and the island was within his grasp. Traveling here had taken less time than expected and Mordrion was looking forward to his time here. From what he had studied and learned so far he knew that access to the island was free now, instead of the usual checking and forms and golems and whatnot. Now the gates were open to anyone and entry was less regulated.

Covered under his large hood and peeking over his mask, Mordrion's eyes quickly scanned the harbor. There was very little of interest here and his attention focused on the path heading up. Making sure his sword and shield were in the right places, he lifted his remaining possessions up over his shoulder and started walking down the pier towards the gates of Sahova.

[Benare Nitrozian]

Winter 35th 516av

"Benare, feeling a little homesick yet?" It was Damien, Ben sighed as his head rested upon his crossed arms on top of the edge of the ship. It rocketed side to side and swayed over the waves of the Suvan Sea. The men that had the ship under controlled manned the ship quite well, but Benare hadn't been so far away.

"Sort of." Benare responded sourly, looking past the Suvan Sea from whence they left the mainland. "I don't miss much of it; it feels good-leaving Ravok, but I feared that I would die without the caravans."

"True, but we had the caravans, and they helped us, what's the big deal?" Oh, at that point, Damien realized what he had said, it was because Benare was a Nitrozian, some of them don't really fancy taking help from others. "Oh..."

Ben was quiet. "Hm?"

"I get it now."
"Get what?" Benare tilted his head up, he didn't really want to exhaust his current gesture.
"You don't like getting help?" Damien asked warily. Ben pinched his facial expression a bit, and looked a bit tired, but annoyed.
"No, it's not that- it's-it's, my father." Benare replied quietly at the end, he didn't care how Damien felt at this moment, but the way his father acted before he left Ravok, it was discouraging.
"Oh..." Damien replied quietly.

"Lower the sails! Get ready to port Sahova!" A voice called at-the captain most likely.

"Perhaps, we could talk more about this later, but right now, we have a job to do."

______________________

[Sayana]

Winter 4, 516 AV

As Sayana stepped onto the wooden planks of the harbor, her head was in a whirl. She had made it to the island of undead, the island of magic. The trip had been exhilarating, to say the least. Nothing compared to her travels from Syliras to Ravok. But even with the looming citadel in the distance and the bleary rain masking it in gloom, there was something else that set the Eypharian even more on edge.

Where were the people?

The harbor was sparse, empty. She and her traveling companions seemed to be the only ones there. Where was everyone? Did no one own any ships or care to trade? As she flipped up the hood of her cloak to protect her from the rain, she squinted into the gloom. What about security, at the very least?

It was then that Sayana caught a hint of movement. A person, an animal? It was scurrying along the ground at a surprising speed, but also moving in precise lines. She drew breath sharply as she realized it wasn’t an animal. It looked like a tiny fast moving cart.

Just as she was about to inspect it, there was a larger one approaching and instinctively she reached for her daggers with her hidden low arms. However, even if she wanted to attack, she was suddenly at a loss for words as the mechanism began speaking to her.

“Welcome to Sahova. Identify yourselves and state the purpose of your visit. If you are carrying cargo, provide a full description and unload a sample for evaluation. Any passengers wishing to be escorted to the Citadel must approach me and apply for permission.”

While she had certainly seen many strange and magical things before, this talking piece of metal and machinery caught her completely off guard. “My name is Sayana and I am visiting Sahova. I would like to see the Citadel, if you would be so kind.”

It was hard to imagine that she was talking to a person. It was most definitely not a person. But she made the attempt regardless. She purposefully stalled as she tried to come up with a feasible explanation and purpose for her visit. However, the wheeled machine seemed to accept the answer and begin leading the way towards the massive citadel in the distance.

Even if one of these metal “things” seemed to lack sufficient security, the Eypharian wasn’t going to place her bets on the rest of them lacking it. The whole atmosphere with the lack of people gave her chills and as she followed after the wheeled creature she started noticing more of them. More and more metal things carrying various objects or scurrying about the ground. She would certainly be treading lightly in this new and foreign city.

Credit: Shimoje