Fall 512, 76th
He had been so hopeful as he fled Avanthal, endured the grueling travel through the storm's aftermath toward what he had hoped would be a glimmering city of change. He had at no point thought to stop and contemplate what that might mean, however, what he felt so strongly in his heart would be somehow fateful.
It felt empty, Riverfall. So much was fantastical, striking even. He had never thought that he could be more taken by a place than he had been Avanthal, but Riverfall had been more exotic even than the frozen tundra and glistening ice sculptures of the north. Still, as he admired the impressive warriors, and indulged in serene natural settings he felt a dark coldness within, a stillness where he thought the city would move him. So much he had sacrificed to travel half the world, that seemed a hundred times larger than Oluse would have guessed, just to land in a place that seemed to be just that, a place - nothing more.
He would not travel again, it was too dangerous, and hard, not to mention expensive. But, he could no longer stay in that dank inn room, he could no longer spend his days and nights among the Akalak, listening to the rhythmic gushing sound of the falls upon dark and vivid stones. Every pleasure there was to have seemed just another disappointment to the young Denvali man. He had to leave the city, had to escape the purgatory his ambitions had left him with. So he went searching for reprieve, for Sanctuary.
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Velox shifted uncomfortably beneath the novice rider, his white coat growing dingy from the lack of proper grooming, itching at the tightly applied straps of the heavy saddle. The two had bonded sufficiently enough, enough that Oluse hadn't tried to sell him once arriving. In a way Velox was the only piece of Avanthal Oluse had retained, aside from the mildly aching episodes of chromatic shifts that still had not faded from the storm, but instead grown more frequent with the turn of the seasons. It had been several days since the last, however, for which he was very grateful.
The morning dew, edging on frost crunched softly beneath Oluse's weighty boots as he awkwardly dismounted Velox, the horse taking a step from him as he tried to steady himself upon the horn of the saddle. The air had been growing cold, and winter approached with a bracing swiftness. The pungent autumn air had adopted the element of clarity which could only mean Morwen's distant approach. Oluse felt no fear of the winter, not after witnessing Morwen's people burn through their perpetual cold as if not a day passed that did not prove as forgiving as a spring day in Denval.
"Come on." Oluse urged in Vani, grabbing a hold of Velox's reins and heading forward toward the structures before him. He felt nervous, the place seemed so private, even though it set out for all the world to see, as if he were treading on holy ground. People lived there, made their homes, and he came uninvited to them, and had so very little to offer for his trespass save for a request that might seem to them an insult. He admitted in silence that he came of selfish accord, with no incentive but his own comfort. He had anguished over the decision, but in some cases such as that one pride must be temporarily laid aside for happiness to bloom.
The clinic struck him deeply as they approached, enough to halt his exploration, stretching upward from Semele's strong base, which seemed to the young man as solid as any ground, unaware of the caverns below holding even more wondrous sites. It was new, but built with old clinic influences, parts of the architecture reminded him of home, of the clinic that had been brought to them from abroad, the one his father would have never let him set foot in. The vision stirred unwanted sensations in his chest, to spot the similar structure after seasons of seeing only the subterranean hallows of Riverfall and the empty expanses of wilderness.
Part of him advised he leave the Sanctuary, to brave the stifling city for a season longer and return in spring. But, another part, a stronger part held him fixated, eyes steady on the building before him. It was so deliberately functional, not overly ornate like the clinic in Avanthal. It seemed so simple, yet so pure. It reminded him of something, something he must have dreamed once, that strong and familiar sensation of Déjà vu stealing his mind from him again, his body fading from his senses as his attention plunged into a place he could not recall if asked, but still inspired a profound response in his heart.