Timestamp: 9th of Winter, 515 AV
The wind rattled and chilled his bones where the young man stood by the prow of the old sailing ship. The frigid, gnawing cold that had been ever present since the ship passed out of the relative warmth of the Cyphrus autumn was oddly comforting despite his threadbare clothing. It was early yet in the Syliran Winter but even an autumn gust was magnificently more frozen than he had become used to since he left the continent of his birth.
Upon the horizon a great working of stone was coming into view. A great, hulking citadel where thousands of folk both everyday and less so struggled with life's challenges. A place where many were born and died in the same home. People rose and fell all the time but there was a casual normality to it all. A gentle hardship less savage but more brutally unchanging than exotic lands. To the young man with pale blue eyes, eyes that drank in the Citadel with a measure of dread and hope, Stormhold was home. The place his father had left, his mother had died, where he'd scavenged for food and found something above himself. Stormhold was the place where an angry young youth had attempted to throw aside his weakness and climb to the top.
The man who returned was no longer a boy by any means. He was taller in stature and his skin was no longer quite so pale. His childishly oversized ears fit more securely upon his head. He had acquired some scars and a little muscle but all these changes were nothing. Mere drawings upon the wall. The most significant changes were inside. He had seen more of the world, he had questioned it and himself, he had pondered more deeply the simplest things he had once taken for granted. He had grown within and he had forgiven himself. He could never have returned without forgiving himself.
The docks were fast approaching as a silver haired young lady approached. “It's not what I remembered, Master Wallsly, not at all.” She remarked in a high, slow drawl. She had lived in Kenash for six years and the accent of the peoples there had clearly rubbed off on her.
“We have yet to arrive. Do you take such stock in first impressions?” The young man replied without turning. His pale blue eyes drank in the approaching docks with a curious intensity.
“If I did, I would certainly not be speaking to you.” She replied with a hint of a smile.
“Aaaah, yes. How could I forget?” Shane replied turning his eyes away from the docks to look at her. There moment of meeting had been a devilish affair he would not soon forget. “I am eternally grateful, my Lady.” He stepped toward her as he spoke and took her hand in his. “What an eventful journey this has been. Perhaps one day this shall feature in my memoirs.” His smile turned rogueish as he lifted her hand above her head and caused her to execute a playful yet unplanned twirl. She giggled and stepped into him. “A kiss, my Lady?” He asked. “One last goodbye.” She answered and their lips locked in what they both hoped was one final farewell.
They were of different worlds upon the shore and by prior agreement were to see each other no more when they stepped off board. There lips slowly eased apart and the young Lady opened eyes she had not even realized she had shut. He held her for a few more precious moments before finally releasing her. “You taught me that emotion and logic were two of a kind. It's a dreadfully romantic to the point of insincere thing to say but I was such a buffoon before that it's true. Enjoy your life wherever it goes and remember the fond, few days we spent together but forget me and do not be so quick to judge the Citadel. It took me a year to realise there is more beauty there than all of Riverfall. The dock approaches. Say no more and depart. Your father's people would no doubt have me if they suspected us of some whirlwind affair.” Shane spoke with a gently but commanding authority. The young Lady listened and when he was done she said no more but pecked him upon the cheek and assembled what little luggage she had deigned to carry herself.
When they arrived at the dock Shane took a final glance at the beautiful, young woman of high status and strolled down onto the dock. He carried but one chest for that was all the fortune and worldly possessions he had left in this world. Yet he felt full of joy and apprehension. He'd made it here before when his confidence had been low and his skills barely tangible. Shane was ready to meet the same old challenges and more. Shane was ready to succeed.
The wind rattled and chilled his bones where the young man stood by the prow of the old sailing ship. The frigid, gnawing cold that had been ever present since the ship passed out of the relative warmth of the Cyphrus autumn was oddly comforting despite his threadbare clothing. It was early yet in the Syliran Winter but even an autumn gust was magnificently more frozen than he had become used to since he left the continent of his birth.
Upon the horizon a great working of stone was coming into view. A great, hulking citadel where thousands of folk both everyday and less so struggled with life's challenges. A place where many were born and died in the same home. People rose and fell all the time but there was a casual normality to it all. A gentle hardship less savage but more brutally unchanging than exotic lands. To the young man with pale blue eyes, eyes that drank in the Citadel with a measure of dread and hope, Stormhold was home. The place his father had left, his mother had died, where he'd scavenged for food and found something above himself. Stormhold was the place where an angry young youth had attempted to throw aside his weakness and climb to the top.
The man who returned was no longer a boy by any means. He was taller in stature and his skin was no longer quite so pale. His childishly oversized ears fit more securely upon his head. He had acquired some scars and a little muscle but all these changes were nothing. Mere drawings upon the wall. The most significant changes were inside. He had seen more of the world, he had questioned it and himself, he had pondered more deeply the simplest things he had once taken for granted. He had grown within and he had forgiven himself. He could never have returned without forgiving himself.
The docks were fast approaching as a silver haired young lady approached. “It's not what I remembered, Master Wallsly, not at all.” She remarked in a high, slow drawl. She had lived in Kenash for six years and the accent of the peoples there had clearly rubbed off on her.
“We have yet to arrive. Do you take such stock in first impressions?” The young man replied without turning. His pale blue eyes drank in the approaching docks with a curious intensity.
“If I did, I would certainly not be speaking to you.” She replied with a hint of a smile.
“Aaaah, yes. How could I forget?” Shane replied turning his eyes away from the docks to look at her. There moment of meeting had been a devilish affair he would not soon forget. “I am eternally grateful, my Lady.” He stepped toward her as he spoke and took her hand in his. “What an eventful journey this has been. Perhaps one day this shall feature in my memoirs.” His smile turned rogueish as he lifted her hand above her head and caused her to execute a playful yet unplanned twirl. She giggled and stepped into him. “A kiss, my Lady?” He asked. “One last goodbye.” She answered and their lips locked in what they both hoped was one final farewell.
They were of different worlds upon the shore and by prior agreement were to see each other no more when they stepped off board. There lips slowly eased apart and the young Lady opened eyes she had not even realized she had shut. He held her for a few more precious moments before finally releasing her. “You taught me that emotion and logic were two of a kind. It's a dreadfully romantic to the point of insincere thing to say but I was such a buffoon before that it's true. Enjoy your life wherever it goes and remember the fond, few days we spent together but forget me and do not be so quick to judge the Citadel. It took me a year to realise there is more beauty there than all of Riverfall. The dock approaches. Say no more and depart. Your father's people would no doubt have me if they suspected us of some whirlwind affair.” Shane spoke with a gently but commanding authority. The young Lady listened and when he was done she said no more but pecked him upon the cheek and assembled what little luggage she had deigned to carry herself.
When they arrived at the dock Shane took a final glance at the beautiful, young woman of high status and strolled down onto the dock. He carried but one chest for that was all the fortune and worldly possessions he had left in this world. Yet he felt full of joy and apprehension. He'd made it here before when his confidence had been low and his skills barely tangible. Shane was ready to meet the same old challenges and more. Shane was ready to succeed.
