Completed Homecoming

[Elias Caldera]

14th of Spring AV 514 He awoke to a single drop of water upon his cheek. With a desperate gasp he shot up from where he had been laying, his hands clutching at his chest as the breaths struggled to come in ragged gulps. He had dreamt of drowning again. Wide eyed as he was, he must have been quite the sight to the others on the ferry, but if they noticed his startling scene, they didn't seem to care enough to show it. There had only been a few of them on the ride, enough so that each man had their own alcove to retreat into, away from the others, and for a time perhaps, away from their troubles. The trip across lake Ravok was a painfully long one, which left those who were undertaking it with nothing better to do than contemplate what kind of trouble was waiting for them at the end of their voyage. Elias clenched his hand, feeling the cold wetness slipping across his fingers. He hadn't been out long then. His hands were still not dry from when he had dipped them into the waters along the sides earlier. He was surprised of himself though, falling asleep as he did, and now of all times. The journey from Zeltiva had been draining sure, and if ever he had wondered if a life on the road for him was a possibility, five days in the wilderness had quickly squashed that foolish notion. The other twenty or so that followed only sealed the deal. Bugs, monsters, the damn weather. It was like it was all, always trying to bog you down or eat you up. He had been lucky to catch a chartered convoy going that way the last time he had made the journey. His mood suddenly soured as the thought brought up memories he knew he would have to face sooner or later. Not now though... I'm not there yet. A yawn escaped his lips as he stretched out his arms clumsily. He looked up, spying upon the horizon for his destination and was almost taken aback at how close they were. Another spike of annoyance at himself for taking a nap. The early morning sky was still dark, but the air was dry and bitter. He had heard talk at the trading post of how the winds were getting out of control, so much so in fact, they were considering canceling some of the ferry rides over until they died down. It wasn't something Elias had expected to hear upon his return. The weather never really changed as he recalled. Sure a few mild temperature bumps, but as far as he could remember, things never got so bad before, and definitely not so close to the city. Might be the storm... He mused to himself silently. That was yet another unwanted memory rehashed, but the young man was too preoccupied with what lay ahead of him to care. He pushed the thoughts back down and focused himself. He checked his rucksack for the hundredth time, making sure everything was stable and still in place. When he was satisfied, he rose to his feet, kicking away the tingling sensations that had taken a hold of them. As the next few chimes restlessly passed by, the traffic of other boats noticeably began to pick up. It wasn't long before the ferry was sharing the calm waters with an armada of fishing boats, ravasola, and even other ferries. For the pilot it must have been a practiced orchestra at that point, because what looked labyrinthine and chaotic to Elias, seemed to come off as almost child's play to the man who weaved them through the plethora of vessels. For miles now they had all been given a clear view of the city as they approached, but as the ferry ducked its way through the last line of sails and oars, it finally came into perspective for Elias. A city lashed together by rope and faith. By bridges uncountable, and a sprawling spider's web of canals and docks. Already he could hear fisherman shouting to one another along the harbors and walkways. He could see priests wrapped in darkness walking along the city's edges, and soldiers in black marching closely behind. He saw a life he had left behind a long time ago, and It was a sight he didn't think he would ever see again. Ravok, his home. He had finally come back.

[Elias Caldera]

The water glider jostled as it banked against the gangway, nearly sending Elias overboard as he moved to leap out first. Thankfully he found his balance just in time to avoid making acquaintances with the lake that day. As he landed however, the young man immediately noted the damage that had been wrought all around him. Elias had been quite familiar with the docks when he lived here, most specifically the docks that faced the trading post to the south. Anyone entering the city came straight into this part of the city, it was why he loved it. But now he could tell something had changed. Most of it was hidden behind repair he surmised, but there were things, entire buildings sometimes, that were simply gone now, and he knew why. The Storm he thought bitterly. No where had been safe, but it had no doubt hit Ravok worse than Zeltiva, that was clear even after so long. The inexperienced mage shook the thought away, letting it disappear into the cacophony of early morning sounds that were slowly taking hold of the day. He loved the docks, whatever shape it took... or at least he had loved it. The merchants ring was fine and all, if you were rich and part of the families, but for everybody else, the gateway to the city was where the most... well anything could be found. The bars, the brothels, the slave pits and the shops. Getting a spot here was one of the hardest, and probably most rewarding achievements a business could earn itself. It was an assurance you'd always have customers since this is where almost everyone entered and everyone left. In fact, now that he was standing here, he was sure he could retrace his steps back to the Healing Hand, a place he had been prone to limping his way to whenever he was done with training. Elias hadn't realized it until then he was smiling, or just how big that smile had gotten. A trio of slaves shuffled by him, their chains rattling insistently as they were herded along by what must have been a Kelvic by the look of the dog collar shamelessly strewn around his neck. That had been enough to snap his attention back to reality. He had come here not for a vacation. Elias watched the bound men march out of view, their skin filthy and their eyes defiant or terrified. They must have been fresh, not yet acclimated to the fine lives they were about to suffer. He knew that very soon they would all either be dead, broken, or so happy they would have preferred the other two just to keep themselves nice and snug in their chains. He sighed at that truth and tightened the grip he had on the rucksack upon his back. He had enough of the docks for now, and so he moved on. There was somber business to be done, and the sooner the better.

[Elias Caldera]

Elias sat alone in the dark, his hands anxiously playing with the edges of the seat as he waited. He wasn't worried about having broken in. The house had still been in the same place he left it in the Noble's district, and even the key had still been under the potted plants, but the roses themselves had long ago shriveled up and died an unceremonious death without anyone left to care for them. No, what Elias was troubled by was what he was going to say when his father arrived. His worry only grew worse when he heard the front door opening. He had expected to hear the tell tale shuffling of mail and plate, but instead there was nothing but surefooted sounds of someone walking his way. The next moment his father rounded the corner and the two of them met eyes in dark. Torian was a large man, nearly a good head taller than Elias was now, and twice as broad across the chest. Even in the shadows it was obvious how imposing he was. The two of them said nothing at first, his father only looking at him, his expression lost in the lack of light. When the silence dragged on for an uncomfortably long time, Elias shifted and readied himself to speak, only to be interrupted as Torian strode over to the curtains and threw them aside. A dull and painful light burst in through the windows and the young man winced despite the air of cool and calm he was hoping to project. "You're lucky I didn't have the guards that spotted you breaking into this place haul you into the dungeons instead of coming to retrieve me." Torian said, his deep voice booming from behind his white beard. Elias noticed that mark of old age had spread to his hair now as well, and with alarming tenacity. The man was as pale, and the top of his head was even whiter. His eyes were sunken in and sullen, falling upon Elias with a tangible air of disgust. "I thought this better to be done in private. It might have become... awkward explaining who I was at the gates of the Vitrax." He looks old, and tired. More than he should... Torian huffed and seemed to become a little less stiff than he had started. He was still as rigid as a board. "You're right. I've told enough people that you died that some of them might become curios as to why you're still walking about." That stung, just as he knew the man meant it to. When the son made no move to reply, Torian continued unabated. "I assume by the fact that you're here that you encountered no troubles on your journey?" He moved over to the liquor cabinet they had once kept, speaking as he began his search. Elias knew he was really asking if she had made the trip alright. "There were some complications, there always are, but yes, we made it here fine." As Torian rummaged in between the doors of the cabinet it became clear there was no spirits to be found inside. His father's expectence of any, and the general state the house was in told Elias the man had not lived her for a long time now. No doubt his home was where it had always really been, with the Ebonstryfe. "Good." He murmured, clearly unhappy with the empty glass he was holding. He set the dusty cup down and returned his attention back to the young man sitting across from him. "So, what rock were you two hiding under all this time?"

[Elias Caldera]

"Zeltiva" He confessed. It meant nothing to keep it a secret anymore. Torian let a small look of surprise creep unto his features for a just a moment before replacing it again with his loitering scowl. "And they never found you? Were those fools even looking?" Elias didn't answer. That story was for another time and another place, and certainly not one to be told to the man now questioning him. "Let me guess, 'Tallow'... or was it 'Kessian'? That was always one of her favorites." "We were the Canders." The old apprentice corrected. "Tomen and Lita Cander." There was a part of him that wished the days when he had answered to that name had not ended. Then of course, there were days he despised even the thought of them. "She said it was always an alias she had wanted to use before, but never had the chance." A smile slid unto his face involuntarily as he recalled the days before riding into Zeltiva, his mother impossibly excited about the "adventure" that lay ahead of them from that day forth. Her smiles might have been rare, but they were contagious, especially when she wanted them to be. "Your mother always had a odd sense of humor." Torian said, scoffing as he hovered near the center of the living room. The way he had said it though, so... condescendingly sent a shiver of anger up Elias's spine, and he acted on it before even thinking. "She did marry you after all." Torian whirled on him, his contemptuous grin instantly replaced with a glare fierce enough to halt a glassbeak in its tracks. "Why are you here, boy?" He snapped angrily. "Don't tell me its to say your farewells. You could have buried her in your little paradise getaway a long time ago. You came back for a reason, and it wasn't to do right by me." He was sneering now. "You think the Ebonstryfe will take you back after what you did, is that it? You can never rejoin the order Elias. Never! I won't allow it." Elias glowered at his father, but even as his mouth worked to respond, he found himself with nothing to say. It was true, and painfully so. He could never be part of the life he once had. He would be killed on the spot by any soldier or lowly apprentice who even suspected he had dropped out of the Stryfe by choice. Not by some rule or mandate, but just because. That wasn't even mentioning the daily ridicule he would have to endure before one of them decided to put a knife in his back. "I didn't come back here for that, or you." He hissed defiantly. "You don't have to petching worry. Once she's is put to rest, I'm leaving again. I studied at the great university in Zeltiva you know. I learned things there, things that make me a thousand times better than any fool recruit or slack jawed idiot who thinks this city and its mad men are the only way the world is supposed to be." His anger was getting the best of him now, letting loose words meant to hurt and less for sense. It was only escalated as Torian rounded on him. Elias hadn't realized he had bounded out of his seat, nor had he noticed when it had been sent sprawling across the floor as a result. His father was in his face in an instant, moving a deadly grace that came from decades of battle and swordplay. Luckily, he was only wielding a finger today, but he pointed it with such authority under Elias's nose he almost flinched away. "You be very careful who you say such shyke to in this city, boy. I may have the displeasure of being your father, but I am still loyal to my city, to the Ebonstryfe, and if I don't cut out that arrogant tongue of yours first, someone else will do it for me." Elias slapped the hand out of his face and stepped back to his rucksack. He knew this would happen. He petching knew it! But he wasn't going to let himself get caught up in his father's rage. It was too easy to get lost there, and that was not why he was here. "I don't have the patience to fight with you, not today." He reached into his pack and pulled out a single urn with deft care that belied his darker feelings. As he did so, the expression on his father's gnarled face deadened immediately. He marched passed the man and placed the ashes atop the mantlepiece that hung above the fireplace. Neither had seen much attention in years, and so the dust swirled around everything as Elias encroached. "Not today."

[Elias Caldera]

"Whatever you may think of her, she always loved this city, and the lake was where she wanted to be in the end." Elias let go of the urn after a small hesitation that failed to go unnoticed. He wiped away the clogs of dust from the counter around the urn, creating a small island of cleanliness for the ashes to rest upon. "But if you have more important concerns, I can do this by myself. I just-" "No." Torian cut him off, the exasperation in his voice evident as he sighed. "No, I want to be there." He finally said as he kneaded the bridge of his nose. A new habit, Elias noted. "I can have the funeral arranged. Something proper, like what we did for your grandfather when he passed. The middle of the lake, with a rightful sermon and all else." Elias wondered if a prayer to Rhysol was what his mother would have wished for considering what she had done. He suspected that like himself, she would -had- always had a place for the God in her heart, no matter how dark he seemed outside his domain. The son nodded after a moment. "That would be nice." "I have my duties to attend to. It will take time for me to free myself long enough for this to be done right." Again the novice magecrafter nodded his head. "I understand."" He wanted to see Ravok again, there was no denying that anymore, and now he had the opportunity. "I think its best if I left the ashes here." He stated tentatively. He did not want to travel with them on his person. The risk of having them spilled or stolen for whatever conceivable reason petrified him more and more as his mind raced with all the horribly unlikely catastrophes that could occur. "That will be fine." Torian granted, looking as if he had expected as much. "Where will you be staying then?" The Stryfer inquired, as he righted the chair his son had tipped over. He promptly lowered himself into it. Elias already knew where it was he could lay his head for the next night or two, though the prospect wasn't an exciting one. "I saw Tarsin's on the way here, I figured why not give it a... try." They both frowned at that. Tarsin's boarding house wasn't exactly the most inspiring place for a Caldera to be found, and the idea of spending his precious mizas on a room there wasn't exactly all that appealing either. Perhaps the wait would give him time to practice some of his arcana in the mean time. He could truthfully think of little else to do aside from moping around and reminiscing about the old days. That had already grown quite stale and he had hardly been here for more than an bell or two. He suspected that meant a trip or two to the local magic store... wherever that was. It was never an aspect of Ravok that had at all concerned him enough to warrant investigation. Now the brothel on the hand, now that had required countless scouting trips as a young and curious lad. He remembered making dozens of different excuses, mostly to convince himself of why he needed to go, just so he could sneak a peek at the strange and rapturous women that could be found there. He had never had the courage to go inside of course, but then again, he had only been fifteen at the time. He shook the thought away, he was getting off topic. "I guess that's it then." He said, turning back to his father. The man's eyes were blank and transfixed on the urn now. He only grunted in reply. "I'll be going going back to using Caldera for the time being." Another curt and inhospitable throaty sound of bare recognition. Elias's first reaction would have been to get upset, but he had recognized his father's distant look as a mirror of his own the day he placed those ashes in that urn. He had of course sent the man a letter after the fact, letting him know that she had died in the storm and that he was coming back, but for Elias, the young man had had months to process the loss of his mother. It was only now that Torian was laying eyes on all of what his wife was reduced to. No, reduced is too belittling a word... left behind is better. He left his father to his mourning. No one had been there for Elias when she died. No one was around to explain how things would work from then on out, or how he was supposed to act anymore without her. He had seen worse than this though, and so had Torian for all his years in the service. The old man would get over it with time, so the mage gave it to him. Elias closed the door behind him, silently bidding farewell to the parents he left behind.

Expenses24 GM for seasonal room and board at the Tarsin Boarding House

[Nemesis]

Elias Caldera

Knowledge :

Skills

Skill	XP
Observation	+3
Rhetoric	+1
Socialisation	+2

Lores

*Chosen Name: Caldera
*First Look on Ravok
*Learning to Cope After Loss

Micellaneous :

Injuries

*Slight bruising, will heal within five days.

Loot/Expenses

*Already subtracted board at Tarsin's

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Notes

*A nice thread, Elias, particularly liking the intrigue and the way you drip-feed information through your writing - keeps me hooked. I'm very curious about Caldera now, I look forward to watching him grow

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