Completed Storm stories (Alses, Sal)

[Ornea]

Storm stories
Timestamp: Day 28 of Fall 514 AV
Location : A house in Lhavit

To the graderWhen we started this thread it was in the animation study of the previous lore. I changed location to "a house in lhavit" but assumed there can still be a vague NPC named Maeki Cho. She's just not the animation lady any more.

The rain clouds had gathered over Lhavit this day until they covered the sky and darkended the city in that special and ominous way only incoming bad weather can do. But the rain hadn’t come. Instead a cold wind had started to blow, growing stronger as the bells passed by, until it was really unpleasant to be outdoors. There weren’t many citizen’s around in the streets this early evening; most people had headed straight home after work.

Ornea planned to do exactly the same. She’d just had to complete some errands first. But now she was out on the street again, still wearing her simple work clothes of course, and luckily also the hunting katinu, the practical sheepskin coat of the Inarta. It came in handy, she thought, when the wind hit her so hard that she started to feel worried. All signs pointed towards a serious storm.

Her long red hair was tossed around by the wind in a most impractical way and Ornea stopped and took time to gather it at the nape of her neck, make a braid and tuck in into the katinu so she wouldn’t get in in her face all the time. Being Inarta, she was used to endure though weather. A certain amount of physical hardships was part of the everyday life in Wind Reach where she had been living all her life until this fall. Tough weather was something you just had to accept and there was no meaning getting upset over it as there was nothing to do about it. So Ornea just composed herself and walked on, enduring the cold wind without feeling pity for herself.

When big heavy drops of water started to fall she walked faster. She hoped she would get home before the full force of the storm was unleashed on the city. But as she walked, the drops turned into rain and the wind just seemed to get worse and worse. Just like the few other people out on the streets Ornea began to look around at the houses nearby, searching for a suitable emergency shelter to run to if it would be needed. What she saw wasn’t encouraging; there were shops, but the doors were shut and it looked like people had closed their business for today.

The rain was increasing steadily while she passed by locked door after locked door and the low sound of beginning thunder could be heard in the air. Ornea had enough experience of bad weather to realize this wasn’t going to end so well, but she was still not whining, not even silently to herself. Half-running now, she moved on along the street, persistently scanning the doors of the houses, regardless of how futile this seemed.

The rumble of thunder grew and went loud the way that means it’s right above you now. Lightning cracked and flashed through the air. As Lhavit was situated on the high peaks of the Kalean west coast some of the buildings were the highest point in the area. Ornea saw lightning hit a particularly high tower. When the skyglass reflected the intense light it looked like the whole building shone like lightning, white, deadly and blinding, and this in turn made next building shine, and next and next. To Ornea it looked like lightning the lightning bolt ricocheted from house to house and she wasn’t sure it this was only as it looked or if it was real.

Fear shot through her, an invisible inner, emotional replica of the lightning. The sky opened and an unbelievable amount of water started pouring down. This added to the fear she felt. She didn’t know why the power of lightning could sometimes travel along water, as it also could along items and constructions of metal, but she knew this was how it was. There were plenty of stories about people who had been ignorant or uncautious and how lightning had found it’s way to them.

All she thought about now was to get indoors. She didn’t care where. She just wanted to get in. So when she finally saw a door that was about to close, but wasn’t closed yet, she dashed forward with all the speed she could muster, and got her foot in the door in the nick of time. She felt a temporary pain when the door clamped her boot, but then it opened again, partly because Ornea got hold of it and started to pull it open. The Inarta wasn’t a big woman, but life in Wind Reach kept people fit and the hard work as a metalsmith had made her strong ; the person inside the house was obviously not as strong, so the door came open again and Ornea went inside.

The Inarta saw a simple room, nothing special, and a young woman who stared in wide eyed shock, like she had been surprise attacked by a monster. Her hair was dark and she had a nice face, but her expression was shaken. A moment of calm descended and Ornea stood there panting, trying to calm her breath enough to speak, while water dropped from her and gathered in a small puddle around her feet. The foot she had put in the door was throbbing dully, and fleetingly she though that she must take off the boot and check her foot up.

Time seemed to have stopped.

This calm lasted only for some ticks. Thunder started rumbling again more than ever and the sound of the rain against the pavement of the street rattled like a ton of gravel was being poured over the city. Irrationally, the young woman started backing into the house, and she let go of the door and the wind seized it and tore it wide open. Lightning could be seen again, and again it’s light was reflected by the skyglass houses.

Ornea dashed at the door again, now from inside. She could speak later with the young woman whose house she had invaded. Closing the door against the storm came first. She grabbed it and started to pull. Through the tunder and the rain she heard something that sounded like shouts, but she took it this was the wind getting even worse. She had nearly closed the door when the storm seemed to seize it again. The determined Inarta pulled hard, set on closing it as soon as possible !

But the force from outside was stronger. The door was flung open again and three more soaked people ran inside, pushing Ornea backwards into the room. Somebody slammed the door shut and bolted it. The sound of the thunder, lightning and rain outside could still be heard, but more dampened now. Instead other lower sounds took over; the sound of ragged, panting human breaths, steps, hurried tries at explaining things, and finally a woman’s calm voice.

It was the owner of the place. The young woman had come out of the first shock and grasped the situation. She had calmed herself and said they were welcome to wait out the storm there. “I’m Maeki Cho” she said, “I will lite a fire in the kitchen and make hot tea. You are welcome to join me there...but please leave your wet boots here, right inside the door.”

...

[Alses]

Rain hammered down on the shining city, the sheets of descending water only becoming more impenetrable with every tick. Guttering splashed and gurgled and overflowed, gargoyles in all manner of fantastical shapes gushed torrents of water and the drains were utterly swamped as the drops danced a relentless fandango on the skyglass flags.

If one knew where to go and what to look and listen for, then you could see – and feel - all of Springwater Square vibrate, subtly, as the Animated pumps below upped their eternal tempo, adding their enormous suction to the natural effects of gravity. They were operating in reverse for once, and at full bore no less, helping to clear the cisterns and storm-drains of their water and sending it cascading down the mountainsides to rejoin the swollen Amaranthine, but it still wasn’t enough.

Swathed in layer upon layer of water-repellent fabric, with even the hated hood pulled up to cover her crown-of-horns – uneasily, it had to be admitted – Alses splashed grimly through the worsening weather. She was heading for home – or at least, attempting to. Ordinarily, she might have stayed at the Radiant Tower, headed up to the almost-unused Council Chamber, with its great dome of near-transparent skyglass, and lost herself in the fury of the skies in safety…but there was no telling how long the storms would last, and being stuck in the Radiant Tower, along with all her paperwork, wasn’t her idea of a good time.

Thus, every waterproof cloak and coat she could lay her hands on, and a quickstep only just short of a run through the sheeting rain. The pumps below in the Fountainhead sang up through her boots as she marched resolutely onwards, ignoring her guards’ protestations with the absolute ease of long practice and the sound-deadening effect of the hood.

And, admittedly, the near-constant crashes of thunder.

Lhavit’s great Towers wore a crown of lightning, a sparkling and spitting corona that filled the skyglass of them and all the buildings around them with scintillating light that leapt from place to place with wild abandon and, just as quickly as it arrived, died away.

Harmless. But impressive, nonetheless, and a beautiful sight for anyone watching on the other side of the glass, next to a roaring fire and warm through to the bones.

Alses knew that Silver would be waiting by the doors at home, a glass of something hot and wicked in one hand and a stack of towels in the other, at the ready to pick up the soaking clothes as she peeled them off on the way to the baths and then to work his magic in making them dry and warm again whilst she lazed in hot, perfumed water and warmed through.

A creature of warmth and the sun, that thought spurred her on, boots kicking up great sheets of spray in the near-deserted streets, and as if in response the sky redoubled its assaults. The lightning was blinding, the trees dancing with wild abandon their death-throes as the leaf-wreathed wind tore and snapped at them, and the thunder threatened to shatter her eardrums whenever it boomed a fresh cannonade across the fury-wracked skies.

The sight of the bridge across to the Tenten peak, normally such a welcome sight, glowing in all the shades of the dawn, wasn’t encouraging; it was just a diffuse strip of light amid the rods of rain lashing through the gap between the two mountains, and the wind was truly atrocious in its ferocity.

Perhaps trying to get home wasn’t the best idea, not when it involved crossing one of the exposed bridges. Alses didn’t even fancy her chances on the covered underbridge, either; if the bridge gave way – and it could happen; she knew that skyglass wasn’t invincible – that would be an ignominious end for her.

Water was beginning to find its way through all her layers, the first prickling coldness sliding insidiously along the silk of her robes and touching her skin with its chill. Alses shivered reflexively and shrugged herself deeper into her clothes, feeling the burn from her forced march even as she cast around for some temporary shelter.

A café would be best, of course, warm and steamy and full of satisfied patrons, but failing that, a shop of some kind, that would do. Alses looked up and down the deserted street to no avail; everything seemed to be closed and battened down against the storm, shutters shut tight against the inclement weather.

No – not quite deserted, in point of fact. Alses saw – although more through the flare of an aura than by any physical sight – a lone figure dart towards one in a line of similar buildings, all of them shut tight against the storm.

A tick or two later, and warm light cut across the drenched street, limning a million million falling raindrops in radiance, a veritable beacon to anyone looking for shelter.

‘Any port in a storm,’ Alses thought, and charged towards it, cutting rapidly through the tumbling drops even as the light began to thin and dim.

She reached the threshold just as the last sliver of light began to wink out, along with two others, and it was only swift and determined action that saw the welcoming portal open again, just enough to admit the whole sodden mess of them.

Confusion reigned supreme for a few ticks in the confined space, a medley of limbs and sodden clothes, before the voice of sweet reason cut across the sudden hubbub, promising tea and a roaring fire for the small consideration of leaving wet boots by the door.

Syna bless Maeki Cho and her kind heart – and thank sweet providence she’d managed to end up here, of all places!

Alses focused exclusively on getting her sturdy boots off, cold-numbed fingers fumbling at the clasps and buckles, setting her feet and lower legs free from the constraints of glossy leather with a heartfelt sigh of relief as she wriggled damp socks, revelling in the freedom even as she padded unerringly towards the kitchen, dodging round the clutter with the ease of long practice and sliding bonelessly into one of the chairs around the enormous table that dominated Maeki’s homely kitchen.

“Forgive the intrusion, Maeki,” Alses murmured, as delicious warmth from the fire began to work its magic and the welcome perfume of brewing tea pervaded the air. “The weather’s hideous, and it was very much a case of ‘any port in a storm’. Not that we’re not glad to see you, though; far from it!”

She shivered again, rubbing her arms to try and banish the goosebumps, even as her sometime-teacher bustled around the warm and homely space with kettle and cups.

[Sal Mander]

The night had been unkind, unseen hands of restlessness poking and prodding Sal in the dark, while possessed sheets wrapped and threaded themselves about his limbs like wild, vicious vines. It was the way of things on the eve of an impending storm, making Sal something of an unwilling weatherman. Along with the restless sleep, he suffered too from a buildup of not so lovely mucus, requiring the unattractive yet necessary process of hawking it up when he woke. As always he lamented his immune system's lack of backbone, wondering just what it was about harsh weather that had him sneezing and blowing his nose all morning. At least it usually cleared up by the time he left the house, for which he was eternally thankful.

Having cleared his throat as best he could, Sal set to the task of readying himself for the days events. First on his list, since the incoming weather had inspired him so, was to purchase a new cloak fit for traversing the storm and, eventually, the forthcoming winter. Fall itself would be no stranger to cold and rainy days, so he knew he would get a lot of use out of it before the season change. Be it night or day, through rain, snow and sleet, there was no rest in his line of work. He remembered when first starting his job, his mentor had strongly suggested the purchase of a warm cloak and sturdy boots. Best advice ever. Pulling on his boots now, he found himself content at the familiar comfort only worn in shoes could bring, and was pleased his mentor had parted with such sage advice.

With breakfast squared away, Sal was off and out the door, noting the dark gloom of the morning as despairing clouds rolled in like billows of smoke. Their ominous approach carried a sense of foreboding, and he could not help but suspect Lhavit was in for a good one. Or bad one, depending on how you looked at it. He smirked while thinking about those annoying people, always saying things like how the grass needed the rain, but instantly complaining when it finally came. He knew well enough he would likely add his own complaints when the time came, but at least he did not herald its coming like some gardening prophet.

As the morning wore on, Sal found himself amidst the Azure Market, seeking out his wanted cloak among the myriad of traders who had refused to acknowledge the incoming weather. There was the Silk Palace of course, though he always considered that place a little too extravagant for his tastes. Besides, the market traders tended to offer a little more variety, having sourced their wares from further afield. It had not taken long at all when he settled on a purchase, a hooded cloak of an earthy brown, water resistant and big enough for his six foot frame. Before parting with his coins, he spontaneously plucked out a black woolen scarf, having noted several people were in the habit of wearing it across their faces. Sal was not in the habit of following current fashions, but he fancied this one small venture just for a change.

With the transaction complete, it was as though the purchasing of his cloak had been a signal to the gloomy clouds overhead. A crack of thunder rolled across the city, shaking windows as vibrations seeped through buildings. Joining in the fun, flashes of lightning popped up in the dark backdrop of sky, resonating off the skyglass like a pyromancer's firework display. And then the rain.

Traditionally, it was regarded as good form to arrange ahead of time when coming to visit someone. It simply did not do to arrive unexpectedly and without notice. It left people unprepared and vulnerable. While the dark skies and sinister clouds had at least suggested the arrival of the ferocious storm, it had served more of a rumor than actual declaration. So then, when the skies literally erupted in a shower of wet and cold, it sent the denizens of Lhavit below reeling like a nest of ants set about by hungry predators. The Azure Market was the first to react, the trader's wares at risk out in the open as they were. Hurriedly they worked, scooping up clothes and shoes into crates, stuffing boxes with various colored vegetables and potatoes, or piled expensive looking trinkets and accessories into carts without the same care and caution they had used to unpack them. Pack beasts grumbled with discontent, while merchants shouted and panicked.

The almost orchestrated like retreat was over in a fascinatingly short time, all things considered. Sal had watched in amusement, never having witnessed the Azure Market empty so efficiently. Within mere minutes, the place had become a ghost town, with any memory of the people once there about to be washed away in the cleansing rain. Sal's cloak was about to get its first run, as he stepped from under the canopy where he had waited to watch the merchants. Having positioned his scarf around his face until satisfied it was comfortable, he pulled the hood of the cloak over his head and set off determinedly. However, his own lingering had allowed the storm time to really get going. His misjudgement was costly, finding himself not in a downpour, but almost a maelstrom like grand exodus of water from the sky. It came down like a charging cavalry regiment, fine lances of rain stabbing at anything caught in its path.

With that initial shock attack carried out, next was a salvo of cannonball like droplets that plummeted and exploded, scattering water in grand splashes to cover any and all still stupid enough to be in the open. This was no battlefield for Sal to wage war on, not when the odds were stacked so mercilessly against him. He retreated in no particular direction, noting with difficulty the outline of various others fleeing in random directions. Soon they were lost around corners or disappearing into houses, slamming shut doors behind them to keep out the marauding weather. Onwards he moved, finding each house and shop he passed locked down. Despairingly he considered making for home, but was certain he would be swept away before he could get even close.

Suddenly he was aware of another figure darting by him, and without thinking he gave chase with the hope they had a destination in mind. A third person joined in, identities hidden in the downpour. Before he realized, the trio were piling in through a doorway that swallowed them up into more warm and brightly lit surroundings. It took a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings, before instinctively he pulled the door shut and bolted it for good measure. A lady was there, speaking of tea and fire and boots, while he rubbed the water from his eyes and tried to focus. Closest to the entrance in the narrow corridor, he allowed the other two arrivals to shed their footwear and enter the kitchen, before he set to the task of taking off his own boots. Thankfully his cloak had performed admirably in shedding much of the rainwater, designed as it was to do, yet still there were damp patches that had filtered through here and there. In any case, he opted to keep his hood and scarf on, at least until this promised fire encouraged him to do otherwise.

Stepping into the kitchen, he set about taking in the details of the others present. There were four people, though the other three would have to wait for a moment before he regarded them with inquisitive eyes, for one reason alone. The first person had all but secured his attention and not necessarily in a good way.

Ornea.

Sal hesitated in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, half contemplating pulling his boots back on and taking his chances out there. Another loud crack of thunder reminded him that was a foolish notion, so he was resigned to the fact that, at least for as long as the storm kept him here, he was going to have to brave it. Awkward situations were simply the best!

_____________________

• Large Brown Water Resistant Cloak - 3g, 1s, 3c
• Black Wool Scarf - 3s
• Total = 3g, 4s, 3c

[Ornea]

QuintonWe are writing Q as present but silent. While he's away we skip over him. You are welcome to come back in later if the thread is still ongoing when you resume wriring.

Ornea just stood for a chime or two, while Maeki Cho invited them all to tea in her kitchen.

The new people were two men and a woman. The woman was a rare and graceful being with elegant horns. An ehtaefal; Ornea was old enough to know a bit about the race, not so much maybe, but she wasn’t ignorant. And she had seen one of the horned people before, passing by on a street in Lhavit, long ago. That had been in her upper teens, when she had helped out at Inarta trade journeys.

Awed, she watched the ethaefal take off her wet boots and socks. It was nothing odd with it, but it struck her as surreal that this nearly incredible being would have feet as wet and cold as her own and do prosaic things like taking off her soaked footwear.

This unworldly beauty should have drifted over the floor like a dream, Ornea thought. The rain and the storm shouldn’t have touched her. Dry and safe, unaffected by the lightning and the thunder should she have walked unmoved through the storm and the lightning...

But, the ethaefal took off a pair of sturdy boots, fumbling at clasps and buckets in a way that implied that her fingers were numb and clumsy by the cold. She gave a sigh, walked past the group and followed Maeki. The two of them disappeared through a door at the back of the room. Ornea found herself staring stupidly after them. Feeling a bit embarrassed she glanced quickly at the two men, who were now putting their boots at the side of the door.

One of the men looked exhausted. His movements when he walked over the floor were somewhat unsteady and clumsy. He didn’t say anything, no greeting, no thanks to the hostess, nothing. Ornea was under the impression the only thing he was able to think of right now was the warmth of a fire, the bliss of hot tea, and maybe also an opportunity to take a nap in a corner in a cozy kitchen. She met his gaze. It seemed unseeing, like he didn’t really notice her presence, or was too tired to care. There was no way to tell what had befallen him, if it was this storm or other things, or a combination of it. Silent, closed in himself, he headed to the kitchen and disappeared out of sight.

“Excuse me” she mumbled to the other newcomer. Realizing she was maybe in the way for him she stepped to the side. The man hadn’t removed his hood and his face was still hidden by a scarf, which she concluded he must have used to protect himself from the bad weather. She of course expected him to take the hood and scarf off now when he was indoors. That would be the natural thing to do. But to her surprise he kept it on. A few ticks passed. Confused, she studied him and saw his eyes, very briefly, between the hood and the upper rim of the scarf, as he gazed back at her and then away again.

Ornea pushed her wet red hair back over her shoulders and bent down to take off her boots and recalled the pain in the foot she had put in the door when she arrived. Ouch ! She really hoped it was just a temporary thing. She was an active person and would hate to be injured and hampered by the foot for a longer time. It had been necessary to use it to stop Makei from closing the door though. Being Inarta, Ornea was certainly not going to whine about this potential hardship. But she thought of it as she took off her footwear and put in beside the door. Then she walked barefoot over the simple wooden floor, limping just slightly. She heard the hooded man’s silent steps behind her as he followed.

She entered Maeki’s kitchen; a welcoming room, a true haven in the storm. There was a big table and chairs, a heart with a fire, kitchen attire, and a few closets. The style was as simple as in the first room. The kitchen had a kind of clean, unpretentious, nice dignity that called for respect despite the absence of luxurious furniture and decorations.

Their hostess, Maeki, was speaking with the ethaefal like the two of them knew each other. She had already put a pot of water on a tripod in the fireplace and now she was opening a metal box. A pleasant fragrance of tea, herbs and spices spread in the air when she poured spoonfuls of leaves into cloth tea filters and arranged them in several teapots.

The worn out looking, silent man pulled an armchair to the part of the table nearerest to the heart and slumped down in it without saying anything. Ornea looked at his drawn face, framed by dark shoulder length hair. The domination expression was that he looked haggard, and if he was handsome or not was hard to judge. Still silent, the man put his elbows on the table and leaned his chin and face in his hands. She hesitated a bit but decided to just let him be.

“I’m Ornea” she said, introducing herself politely to Maeki Cho. “Metalsmith at Lucis. Thanks for the invitation ...”

She guessed it was an invitation. They had been invited, even if it was after intruding here, whether the hostess wanted it or not. Maeki didn’t seem to have any problem with it now though. She even looked a bit cheered up, like she found it good to have company. Being Inarta and always ready to work, Ornea promptly offered her help and was tasked with cutting slices of bread they would toast on the fire after the water had been boiled.

There would also be honey and butter and even some soft white goat cheese and a few apples. A very simple and casual meal. But under the circumstances it came off as luxurious to get to sit in the warm kitchen and eat instead of being out there in the storm. And to Ornea, who was used to periods of half starvation in Wind Reach, it definitely was generous of Maeki to share food with them.

A particularly loud bang of thunder made her jerk and nearly cut herself in the finger. Through the water pouring down the outside of the kitchen window she could see lightning flash through the air. The smattering sound of rain seemed to intensify even more. Yes, they were indeed lucky. She didn’t even want to think of how it would have been to be outdoors now.

It felt safe, so safe, to be in Maeki’s kitchen, sheltered, warm and safe.

Bar for one thing; that man keeping his head and face hidden by hood and scarf seemed more and more weird to her.

Ornea didn’t say anything about the scarf, not yet. Nor about the bad manners of the other man. If it had been her home, she would have spoken her opinion. But she was a guest here, just like them, and she had no business acting like she was the hostess. It goes without saying that she found both the male guests rude, though. Just look at them! One was just sitting there, half-asleep. The other ... was hiding his face in a way that seemed unusual to say the least.

Ornea had slowly started to wonder; was the hooded man just unusually ill-behaved, or was his masked face the prelude to something much worse?

She decided to keep an eye on him, just in case he would make trouble.

The etheafal looked like a frail being out of a dream and the sweet and mild Maeki didn’t seem particularly strong either. The half sleeping man didn’t strike Ornea as somebody to protect them if things went rough. Petch, she would keep an eye on him too. Both men, the hooded one and the sleepy, were behaving a bit weird. As they had arrived together, she didn't rule it out they were friends, or allied in some way.

Clearly it would fall on her to protect the others if needed, she thought to herself.

"It's dusk break" said Maeki softly. "Please take a seat". She started to pour tea.

...

[Alses]

Everyone else, it seemed, was following her lead, passing through Maeki’s hallway and then filtering into the warm and homely kitchen, an oasis of light and warmth in a wet and wild world. Not that there was any real other option; perhaps she’d best not chalk it up to her own leadership skills just yet.

There had been awe and confusion in the hallway, a churning charivari of different impressions, but Alses hadn’t cared overmuch for sorting out the streamers of different people’s auras, being far more focused on getting in, getting warm and getting dry.

Now, relaxing in her customary chair around Maeki’s table, the heat of the fire roaring at her back and slowly warming her through to the bone, she had the leisure and the inclination to inspect everyone a little more closely.

Maeki was first to be wrapped in her magic’s inquisitive grasp; she was a familiar flare on the ever-changing masterpiece that was Mizahar, easy to comprehend without too much effort. Honey-wine contentment and sawdust-scented hard work breathed from her soul in dancing waves, still touched with a froth of champagne bubbles – surprise.

Under it all, of course, was that ever-present melancholy which subtly tinted almost everything Maeki did. Alses had never really been able to pry out exactly what it was that had made the woman so sad – not that she’d really tried, though, preferring to leave well enough alone. Theirs was a smooth and easy friendship, built on Animation and the occasional outing to the theatre or the opera, as a treat. Rocking the boat wasn’t on the cards.

The expanding wave of her ever-there sight caught on the others as they settled themselves around the room. Here, in Lhavit, it was perhaps less of a surprise than it otherwise might have been to find that all of them were mages, all with that particular glitter and shimmy to their souls, that greater complexity and brighter shine that marked a mage out to Alses’ hungry auristics.

A split-tick more of her regard, and further information became clear. One of them, she already knew, had already met – Sal. His aura was instantly recognizable to her, remembered in perfect detail, and she knew him for who and what he was, even beneath his layers and his scarf.

The other, the Inarta…she was new, and an altogether more interesting challenge to piece together, even as she moved around the kitchen, a bundle of energy that seemed to rarely be still.

The fire of magic burned within her, all right, but there was something…wrong about it, some uncanny twist to the display that set Alses’ teeth subtly on edge. In an odd sort of way, it was like looking at a broken mirror that had somehow been patched together – eerily beautiful and still a single whole, but also and ultimately, broken.

Looking at it too long, at the impossible bonfire, gave Alses the oddest of aches in her head, and yet the only thing which stopped her burning magic to get to the bottom of what she was seeing with her passive Sight was the insistent nagging of her purely physical eyeballs, having noticed something…distressing…developing right under her nose.

“Oh, ah, none for us, thank you very much,” Alses said quickly, snapping back to purely physical reality and noticing that Ornea was setting to with the various foods that Maeki had produced, magician-like, from her larder. Sweet and nice and a very Lhavitian sort of thing to offer, to be sure, but still…

“Wasn’t planning on giving you any,” Maeki called back, still busy at the stove and not looking round. “I know you’re an oddity when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Maeki,” Alses murmured. “But the Inarta you have helping with the food – Ornea, wasn’t it? – looks set fair to give us a portion of whatever it is you’re being kind enough to serve us.”

“Ah! Yes, yes, don’t bother giving Alse anything,” Maeki agreed, half-turning and flapping a hand in Ornea’s general direction. “It’d only go to waste; she doesn’t eat and drink like the rest of us.”

There was a short silence, and in that time Maeki finished the delicate task of brewing tea and moved to the table with the enormous kettle in one hand, counterbalanced by a set of cups and saucers in the other.

“Dusk rest?” Alses asked in dismay, perhaps more sharply than she’d intended, as Maeki began to serenely pour out hot, fragrant liquid. “Already?”

She sighed, seeming to draw into herself at the mere mention of the onrushing night. “Still, at least proper sunset is a little while away yet…”

[Sal Mander]

Sal had to remind himself that Inarta folk were renowned for being rather direct. They had little use for 'beating around the bush' as it were, when a few well placed words were all that was necessary. But it was not restricted to their use of language. Ornea's less than subtle glances had a way of unclothing Sal, as though by mere sight she was able to strip away the scarf and reveal his face. Surely she had not marked him for who he was. It did seem somewhat of a stretch that she could have figured it out, leaving Sal to conclude that she was simply wary of men with concealed faces.

That in itself was fair enough. Sal himself would have preferred to have been able to put a face to the people around him in such a situation as this, unique as it was. Indeed, he could not recall another time he had been effectively stuck in a place with no chance of escape. He was at nature's mercy, and nature was never someone - or something - to be bargained with. In the meantime, he had to figure a way to traverse current events. As Ornea had already thought to herself, a man keeping his scarf and hat on indoors was by no means an orthodox thing. Firstly it was simply a strange thing to do, while secondly it was already nice and warm in the kitchen what with the generous hearth sharing out its warmth with the newcomers.

What to do, what to do, Sal pondered. To reveal himself would be to restart the unfortunate situation that had arisen some fourteen days ago. There had been suspicions raised, probing questions asked, and conclusions come to whether or not they held much in the way of truths. Sal had initially granted his investigation little in the way of faith, having early on dismissed it as a fool's errand born of rumor and gossip. But no matter his personal and original thoughts, an investigation always had to be followed up as close to a finish as possible. In taking those first tentative steps, Sal's intended light footing had betrayed him with more of an unsubtle stomp through proceedings. But in doing so, his clumsiness had unearthed his own suspicions, leading him to believe there was more to this rumor - and Ornea - than he had first thought.

Worse still, she had not appreciated his nosing around her place of work, having had her own suspicious as to who he was and why he was there. In hindsight, and also a blemish on what he considered to be otherwise competent detective skills, Sal's handling of the whole affair had been nothing short of abysmal. That was the cost of approaching any investigation half-hearted and over confident in one's own abilities.

Suddenly Sal had an idea pop into his head, with the instantaneous appearance much akin to the flash of lightning that momentarily illuminated the window. Thankfully, his idea did not disappear in the same instance, and instead he was moving through the kitchen to stand at Maeki's side. Bending down to reach the shorter woman's ear, he politely asked permission for the use of the bathroom. In doing so, he hoped it would buy him a few extra minutes to come up with a long term solution to keeping his identity hidden. Who knew; perhaps this storm would choose to blow itself out as quickly as it had descended on Lhavit.

[Ornea]

The fact that Alses didnt’ eat and drink like other people was mysterious to Ornea but she accepted it without comments. If somebody didn’t eat any food, this was good for the group, as it meant they could have more. She took a seat and being practical she started eating without a lot of preludes. The hot tea was just what she needed after having been out in this weather. She spread cheese on a slice of bread and put thin slices of apple on top of it. The fresh taste of the sandwich pleased her, as she ate it slowly, with the respect for food that comes of periods of starvation.

The silent man in the corner was tasting his tea, and Maeki sat down with her cup too, looking somewhat cheery, smiling shyly like she expected this to be a nice evening. Ornea decided that she liked Maeki Cho. The young woman wasn’t saying so much, but her gaze was intelligent and her calm style was pleasant. And the ehtaefal seemed alright too.

The weird, hooded man with the scarf over his face had spoken to Maeki and was about to leave the room. She watched him walk out of the kitchen again and felt uncomfortable. She had wanted to keep an eye on the him. But now he had left the room and she couldn’t possible just jump up and follow, could she? She looked at Maeki, who seemed totally unaffected and not worried at all and decided to ask a straightforward and direct question : “What’s with him? Where did he go? Is he going out in the storm again?”

“The bathroom”, Maeki said, seeming a little bit surprised by the Inarta’s lack of subtlety.

Oh. Well. The bathroom. What could she say about that ? Nothing. And she could hardly follow him. But Ornea was going to react if the man didn’t’ come back soon, after what she considered a normal period of time. And if she heard any kind of unnatural sounds from outside the kitchen door she would for sure want to check on what the petch was going on. She studied the kitchen gear again. There was a frying pan that looked pretty useful as improvised weapon. Yeah. If it would seem like the hooded one was lingering too long, or if she would hear sounds that could mean he was doing something illegal or dangerous, or just wacky, she was going to grab the frying pan, dash out and confront him.

For now she contented herself with planning her tactics and her moves. There was no reason to act yet. Maybe it wasn’t needed at all. If the man just returned and everything seemed totally normal, she would feel utterly stupid if she had armed herself with a frying pan for a fight that only existed in her imagination. But it was best to be prepared. Lhavit was a good city, with many good people, but after the events in Bright Lights and then also in Lucis, she had ample reason to think there were people you needed to keep an eye on. This thought led on to another thought : how could she know that the hooded person wasn’t that Alvadian lecturer from Bright Lights, now in new disguise ?

She shuddered at the thought. There had been magic in the air that ill-fated evening in the candle shop. Illuisons. To Ornea with her already somewhat sensitive mind and tendency to get carried away on dreamlike sidetracks as a seemingly permanent residual of the big overgiving, it had been seriously disturbing to be exposed to the experiments and other events that evening. It had left her with many troublesome feelings and a constant nagging question if she saw reality as it was.

Meditation, she told herself silently in her mind, while she looked down into the tea in her cup. Meditation is the answer. She thought of her visit in Dawn Tower recently and the discussion with Sousa Dawn. This memory made her feel more at ease again. There had been such a tranquil and soothing atmosphere in the tower’s meditations area, and in the background she had heard the soft and comforting sound of the water.

A slow, insufferable, snoring sound interrupted her thoughts. Ornea looked up from the tea. It really was a snore she had heard, and it came from the chair nearest to the fireplace. The very silent and tired man had gone from tired to asleep, but he wasn’t silent anymore. He snored. Loudly. Ornea watched him, feeling a bit irritated as she didn’t like it when people snored. She felt like shaking him to make him stop. But, it was actually also good that he had fallen asleep, because now she really, really could speak freely.

“I must admit I find it a bit odd to hide one’s face in a scarf and hood this way” she said to the others. “I can understand that it can have been good to wear them outdoors in weather like this, but it’s really odd to not take them off indoors, don’t you think?”

“Maybe he is shy” Maeki offered in a mild and understanding tone of voice, like she for one could understand that somebody would want to hide when suddenly thrown into a kitchen full of strangers. A faint rose blush showed on her face. She took her cup of tea and drank from it and after this she busied herself with making a small honey sandwich and started to nibble on it. "Maybe we could pass the time by telling stories" she said, sounding a bit pleading.

It was perhaps obvious that Maeki didn't wan't to discuss the hooded man any more. But the Inarta wasn't particularly tactful.

“Of course we can tell stories, we can tell stories to pass the time, but first... Shy? Maybe. But to be honest I don’t trust him” Ornea said. “Both these two men are behaving in a weird way. One falls asleep in the corner and the other one hides his face and disappears to the bathroom. It’s not natural, if you ask me.”

As she didn’t get an answer at once, she drank some more tea and ate more of her sandwich. But Maeki had already launched the shyness theory so she didn’t say anything more. This made Ornea turn to Alses in order to ask for the horned woman’s opinion. She did this somewhat hesitantly. There was something elevated over the ethaefal, a natural authority in the way she had spoken with Maeki, a kind of natural dignity that Ornea was sensitive to in the behavior of other people. So yes, she was hesitating a little bit. It was hard to guess the social standing of the woman with certainty, but in her interaction with Maeki the ethaefal had seemed to be used to give orders and get respect.

“What’s your opinion? “she asked Alses. “I want you to know that I’m prepared to defend you in case they try something” she added straightforwardly, in a try to make up for it if she had commited some kind of unknown social lapsus by starting this topic. A determined expression settled on her face. “I’m a metalsmith. I’m not so big, but I'm stronger than I may look.”

The weather was as bad as ever out there. Lightning flashed over the clouded sky and the rain kept smattering on roofs, windows and the pavement outside. They sat in the firelight in the cozy kitchen with tea and sandwiches on the table. The soundly sleeping man in the corner snored. Ornea drank her tea, studied the frying pan and waited.

...

[Alses]

For her part, whilst Ornea savoured food and drink with a quasi-religious reverence, almost, Alses relaxed and watched, her magic bringing her the combined tastes of the sandwich and tea. A small smile broadened, suffusing her features as the phantom sensations glissaded over her tongue and down her gullet, a pleasantly warming, spreading touch that carried with it none of the disgusting connotations of actual, physical consumption, the spectral sensations chasing out the lingering impressions of cold and damp.

Sal’s aura shimmered and flashed and danced before her sight; familiar and explicable, understood in a way that no-one who wasn’t an aurist could ever comprehend. Alses watched with interest; a godtouched was always entertaining, even if they didn’t mean to be, and his reaction – hidden by the scarf and the hood to normal sight, perhaps, but plain as day in the burning glow of his aura, piqued her curiosity.

Embarrassment, rose-red and peeling off in delicate filigree waves that tinged the air with flame, Alses’ vision glowed as though she was staring at a furnace. There was also chagrin there, and dismay, followed by a sudden and dizzying vault skywards into momentary euphoria as Sal saw a – temporary – way out.

Alses covered a mischievous little smile at the Inarta’s sincere pronouncement. “That’s very commendable of you, to rush to another’s defence so gallantly,” she replied. “And kind, too. Though we’d advise you not to worry too much about our fellow shelterers. The gentleman who’s just left to answer…the call of nature, shall we say? He is known to me, though he doesn’t know that yet.”

She leaned back in her chair, looking as pleased as the proverbial cat that had got the cream, and renewed mischief glittered in her eyes and the whole curvaceous train of her body. “It amuses us that he remains ignorant of our acquaintance, for the moment – but I can tell you he means us no harm, not a jot of it.”

Alses pursed her lips, her face faraway and pensive. “He’s hot-tempered, perhaps, but intelligent nonetheless, and with a certain…balancing…influence acting to curb the more ardent of his fury’s excesses. I’m given to understand he works at the Cosmos Centre, as it happens.”

Alses saw Ornea’s eyes dart to the frying pan, felt the sharp tingling rush of reflected adrenaline go dancing down her skin and the sharp bite of potential violence as the Inarta’s thoughts turned, once again, towards defence, her mind spooling subconsciously through various vague scenarios and the essential energies of her soul shifting and changing subtly in response to those faint impulses.

And all of it was reported faithfully back to her, by the eternal tendrils of magic that now stretched forth their ephemeral hands from her body in a continual shifting dance, drenching the whole world in information writ large as light and sound and taste and smell and phantom touch, the best masterpiece anyone could ever hope to witness.

She thought of adding something about the embarrassment that had radiated off Sal when Ornea had spoken to him, as though they’d met before and it hadn’t gone well. This time, though, Alses held her peace and tongue. “As for the other one, he’s exhausted and sleeping deeply. We’d not expect them to wake for some time, to be honest. They’re of little concern – in that state, anyway.”

“You’re a relative newcomer to this city, yes?” It wasn’t really a question, but Alses phrased it so. The knowing of a master aurist, the ability that had so annoyed and unnerved her as a less-proficient aurist, that would surely be the more infuriating and unnerving to the layperson. As a politician these days, she was learning the benefits of both having power and appearing to not have it, as it suited her. A few extra aces up the sleeve – as she’d heard the expression – never hurt.

“Where are my manners?” she continued, rhetorically. “Alses. I work at the Radiant Tower.” Maeki made a small, indeterminate noise at this, which was magnificently ignored. “It was Ornea, wasn’t it?”

[Sal Mander]

This was a most unfortunate situation for Sal to be in. Usually, when working on an investigation, he would have days and days of time to gather the multitude of strands of information that lay in wait, gather them one by one as he weaved their hidden secrets into a patchwork quilt of truths and telling. It was the work of an artist in some ways, laboring proficiently to slowly blend together the necessary ingredients to create a masterpiece. At the end of his toil, there was to be found the finished article, glowing in an aura of energy that would fill him with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

But it took days.

Right now he had managed to forage for himself perhaps five minutes at most. Any longer and there might have been unflattering talk regarding the state of his health from a digestive perspective. With time seeping away like the drops of rain that ran down the windows, Sal grew increasingly agitated at this little predicament. Of all the homes, I had to run like a drenched rat into this one. Not that there was anything wrong with the home, what with its inviting scent of fresh tea and the promise of warmth by the fire. It was just the company that was less than inviting right now. Well, just one of them in fact.

His thoughts were pulled between his current ordeal and the one where he first met the crazy inarta. He was most embarrassed at his own handling of that encounter, though still there was something to be said of how Ornea had conducted herself on that fateful day. Even so, throwing a bucket at her had perhaps been a little excessive. What was I supposed to do? he asked himself. At the time, he had honestly thought the woman was about to stab him. It was more a knee jerk reaction if he was honest, though even now he cringed at the thought of it.

Sal had been pacing up and down the corridor, careful not to come into view through the kitchen door that he had taken care to leave slightly ajar. From within he could hear the inaudible hum of conversation, which was a good thing. So long as the women were chatting, they were not thinking of him. Perhaps then he had a little more time to try and figure out this dilemma. Concentrate Sal. Think like the investigator. Find the facts.

Making a conscious effort to clear his mind, Sal readied himself to approach the task at hand. What indeed were the facts? Well, firstly he was stuck here. That much was certain, and the weather outside shook the windows with an absurdly loud cracking of thunder, as if to illustrate the point. Definitely stuck here, he admitted defeated. In the kitchen was another possible storm brewing, in that an inarta woman who he had managed to piss off with a bucket - one having kicked it over and second having hurled it at her - was most likely not going to be welcoming him with open arms. He had the scarf and hood of course, but how long could he justify wearing those with the hearth doing its best to warm the kitchen. Not only would it draw attention to him, but furthermore he did not relish the thought of being drenched again, this time by his own sweat.

So what if he just revealed himself? After all, what was Ornea really going to do in front of those other people? Sure, it would make for an awkward time, at least until the storm softened enough for him to leave, but perhaps that was the lesser of the two storms he could safely navigate. He walked up to the door again, pausing at the crack and peering inside as Ornea was talking.

"I want you to know that I’m prepared to defend you in case they try something".

They? THEY? Who was she talking about? Surely he was one of the they, whoever they were. Maybe she was referring to the other guy who was now sat up against a wall in the corner, snoring softly while a cup of tea dangled precariously in his sleeping grip. They had technically arrived at the same time, so it was fair to assume that they might have been in cohorts with one another. Furthermore, it seemed like punishment for Sal that now Ornea was the one making weightless assumptions about the other. What was he even supposed to try anyway? Did she think he would come bursting in and try to pick up where they left off? If anything, he was just glad to be out of Lucis and Lucis with his life, having foolishly convinced himself he was in danger. Mostly though, he had fled from his own embarrassment over the situation.

Walking off down the corridor once more, Sal was not within earshot to hear Alses' take on the situation. As she had pointed out, the man was known to her, though in a different form to the one that sat at the kitchen table with an amused look on her face. Had he heard, it might have done the man much good in settling his nerves regarding this whole situation. Indeed, it may have done much to settle Ornea's apparent distrust of the strangers. But he had not heard, and so he continued to wear out the carpet with his pacing. By now a whole ten minutes had passed, and certainly it was close, if not passed the time where suspicions were raised.

In fact it was Maeki who decided to investigate. "What are you doing out here?" she asked in the corridor, making Sal jump in surprise. Thankfully they were out of earshot of the other women, who were continuing their conversation in the kitchen. Maeki had an amused smile on her face that at once disarmed Sal. Though that may have been more to do with the relief that it was not Ornea.
_____"Um..oh. Well, I was just checking to see how the storm was doing. It was easier to listen out here by the door." Maeki seemed satisfied with the answer, or was just better at hiding any suspicions she may have had. Choosing not to comment further on the matter, instead she appealed to Sal on a different topic.
_____"I wondered if you might do me a huge favor. It seems I was ill prepared when the storm hit, and we're just about out of water. Kind of ironic given our current circumstances," she chuckled to herself. "Anyway, there is a bucket just outside the back door, and I wondered if you might fetch it for me since you still have your coat on."

Sal could not but agree quickly and earnestly, glad to be able to do something worthwhile so their gracious host did not think him rude or just strange. After all, he just needed to slip on his boots and fetch the bucket. What harm could come from that? "I'll just need a few moments to get my boots on, then I'll be right there with the water," he said, already reaching for his footwear and starting to pull them on. Maeki nodded with a smile before returning to the kitchen, wondering where the two ladies had got to in their conversation.

[Ornea]

Alses words had calmed Ornea a bit. Silently she summed the information up to herself. The ethaefal had found it kind and commendable of her to offer to defend them, and this sat well with Ornea. And the man with the scarf was known to Alses, though the way she spoke of it was hard to understand. According the eth the odd man was working at the Cosmos Centre and didn’t mean them any harm. She had a great deal to say about the man, amazingly much actually. He was hot-tempered, perhaps, but intelligent nonetheless, and with a certain…balancing…influence acting to curb the more ardent of his fury’s excesses.

The chimes passed and the silence was growing in the kitchen, disturbed only by the snores from the man in the corner. It seemed natural to start a conversation with Alses. The horned woman seemed to find something very amusing despite the situation. Ornea appreciated this; she always liked when people were hearty and didn’t whine when in trouble. She smiled at Alses, who leaned back in her chair while she was speaking, and looking very pleased. The eths eyes were full of life and for a moment she reminded Ornea of a mischievous trickster with an entertaining secret only she would know. She seemed to hesitate a bit, like she was about to say something else, but then she just told Ornea that the sleeping man was only exhausted and the best was to just let him rest and sleep.

It intrigued Ornea that the ethaefal seemed to know so much about a person who didn’t know Alses. The ethaefal had amazingly much information, Ornea had observed this. And slowly, the Inarta’s brain started to work at this fact, the way things that doesn’t totally make sense make people start to think and wonder. How could the eth know so much? Why was she looking so smug? What was this about?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Alses spoke to her again. “You’re a relative newcomer to this city, yes?”
Ornea nodded. “I moved here in the beginning of this fall. From Wind Reach.”

“Where are my manners?” Alses continued. “Alses. I work at the Radiant Tower.“It was Ornea, wasn’t it?”

Ornea had heard Maeki make a small, muffled sound when Alses said this. She glanced at Maeki, expecting her to say something.But the Lhavitian woman just drank her tea silently. Ornea looked Alses again.

“Yes, Ornea is my name. I’m working at Lucis and Lucis, as metalsmith. And hopefully more, one day. My boss is an extraordinarily knowledgeable old man and I hope to learn from him. Edward Lucis.” She stopped there, not sure about what to go on with. Ornea had started to learn more about Lhavit but she hadn’t had time to take in all the new things yet. Her knowledge about The Radiant Tower was limited. “I’m still so new in this city” she said finally. “I don’t know so many people here. I’m afraid I have spent most of my time working. I want to get the metalsmithing job permanently, you know. So. I’m afraid I know very little about the wizards and the towers.”

She had intended to ask about The Radiant Tower and Alses work there, but now Maeki spoke again. She was going to check on the scarf wearer, she said. Ornea focus shifted to this issue again. Not too pleased to let the frail looking hostess deal with the man all alone, she watched Maeki walk out from the kitchen. But as Alses didn’t seem to be worried, and had impressed the Inarta Ornea as a person of higher rank, Ornea found it best to follow Alses example and just accept that Maeki would cope with it. Ornea would do as the ethaefal would do, whatever that would be. Even if she didn’t’ know what exactly they did there, The Radiant Tower had sounded like “high caste” to the Inarta.

Voices could be heard from outside the door, which didn’t seemed to have been closed properly. It was Maeki’s soft voice and a deeper, male voice, obviously the scarf man's voice. It sounded like a perfectly normal chat. No shouting. No odd sounds. And then Maeki came into the kitchen again and told them everything was as it should be. The man was right now doing her a service, bringing in a bucket of water and would soon be back.

The storm raged on. If felt like thunder and lightning shook the world and made it tremble. Ornea remembered the words of the man at Bright Lights earlier in the fall. Right now he seemed to have been right; storm and lightning really seemed to be a major threat to Lhavit. The thought of how the city was perched on the high peaks, a guaranteed and vulnerable prey for lightning, made her feel more and more uneasy. She hadn’t used to be scared of nature and weather, but after the avalance in winter 513 this had changed, like so many other things. Ornea had learnt that the force of nature could be immense and dangerous. Actually, nowadays she feared nature a bit, to be honest.

And nature answered. Or maybe it was Zulrav, the god of storms who answered. Anyways, thunder, lightning and a particularly intense flash that seemed to be right outside the window made her jerk a bit. In her mind she prayed to Ivak to keep her safe. Not that she was sure if the god would care about it; gods weren’t always so caring and it could sometimes seem like they actually expected people to take care of themselves without disturbing the deities.

...