Speech | 82 Winter, 515 AV | Thoughts |
Naia hadn't meant to be in town when it happened, when the city closed and prevented her from escaping.
How many times had she circled the streets, hoping against hope that maybe the next bend, the next corner, or the next door would open to the docks. Instead she got flames, heard screams, saw the cracks in reality, as they were later named. She listened and joined in on the anxious gossip, and spent her days searching for familiar faces, only to find herself failing time after time. She could still feel the ocean, just out of reach, and it drove her wild. She felt its pull even in her dreams.
Then one day - yesterday - there was the door.
And then the door had rules, and there was a call to arms, almost.
Men and women filed through, after the zith had made their rush, each with their own fire and spirit in their eye. What ever pull or call they'd felt, the Svefra certainly hadn't. She kept company with those just as disenchanted as she, made awful small talk and botched her attempts to tell tales to ease discomfort. She found some respite in fellow travelers, those of the crew who were also trapped, away from The Mischief, though any of them had left the day before, when the filing of willing Alvadas had.
Concern struck her as she wandered what had happened to those still on board the ship, and she voiced her concern to a stranger near by. She wasn't sure what response she wished from the older woman, but it was most definitely not a snide remark about how it would do her best to think about their current predicament, before worrying herself with people who's problems they had no hope of helping.
The woman had a point, however, and Naia pushed herself off the wall that she'd been stuck to for the better part of the early morning, and made her way towards the infamous door, a small group in hot debate about entering as they loitered by its handle. Only one seemed uncertain, though, and funnily enough, they also seemed to be the strongest of the whole group, and the brunette's hand soon enough found the hilt of the cutlass to her side, as though needed to assure herself that it was indeed there.
She wasn't sure why she'd bought it, she was better with her hands than with a blade, but the purchase had indeed been a serendipitous one, with not a week passing before the door popping up and demanding only those with weapons could pass. 'What, have I decided I want to pass through, now?' The consideration clung to her, and she walked around the figures who largely obstructed the view and entrance, until she could feel the infernal triangle's gaze upon her in a new found strength. She had never allowed herself to get too close. Too afraid she would get swept up in the hysteria and find herself walking through the door, and now it seemed like there was little other choice. Alvadas was a trap, a maze. If there was an escape, and end- it was through that door. Or was it?
"What are you so afraid of?" it was a high and haughty question for one who faced much of the city's illusion and mischief with blatant refusal and denial, but the question was tasked to the singular man who seemed as though his feet were glued to the stone. "It is your city, no? Your people- friends, family..." She crinkled her nose as she scrutinized the group further, wondering almost in earnest how they were going to take her bait. Of all things, indecision was what struck ill cord with her the most. That is, the inability of others to make quick and reasonable choices. She had a very clear double standard for her own sake.
"Do you..." the frightened man asked, eyebrow cocked as his thumb jerked towards the door. "Know what is through that door? Its say ya' won't come back," one of his friends seemed to give his words a proper thought, and his head gave a brisk nod. Naia could see his point, really. A mysterious door, telling one to enter armed, and disallowing the young and infirm. It was sketchy, but so was the entire damn city.
"For Gods' sake, you're an Alvad, aren't you?" her hands had moved to cross her chest, and she pressed her lips as she shot the group the iciest glare she could muster. If she could rally them, then perhaps she could rally herself. "Even I am considering walking through that door, and I'm a petching Svefra. I'm not here by choice. I'd call myself a Nykan before I did one of this city."
"But you haven't," one of the geniuses decided to point out the obvious, and the woman's gaze narrowed upon the man. Each city and people had their people who were not quite like the rest, the Svefra had them too, and it seemed as though Naia had decided to pick upon a group who were of the irritating kind. "And I bet you won't, you just want us to go through so there's less of us around... or more of us there," Naia didn't know how to take the accusation, not in the slightest, and in the moment of her mouth hanging open, she saw upon the man's face a kind of triumph her own pride wouldn't have.
The little debacle had seemed to rouse some, it seemed, and a shoulder shoved past her, and the other men, and a broad figure made for the door, not a word or gesture shared before he entered and disappeared, and another woman followed. Yet again, she did not waver; not once did it seem like she was considering turning back. "Stand there doing shyke if you want," she hummed, releasing the tense hold of her arms as they then made fists by her sides. "I don't know what use I could be, but I know it is damn well better than standing here," taking cue from those before her, she strode forward unflinching, turning the bronze handle as she too disappeared into its depths.
The next thing she knew, the darkness that surrounded her took form, and the silence stretched and broke to noise.
