Closed [Gug Adjak] The Friend I Never Had

[Hadrian]

PermissionsMirage gave us permission to retroactively post to Fall 512 and gave us a range of dates that would not conflict with the Siege of Sahova, but as that has not been completed, we will attempt to write around it. 80th Fall, 512 A.V. Hadrian did not know what all was going on. This trip to Sahova had been more action-packed and strange than the previous, but he wasn't thinking on that. Not now. Instead he was looking for his old mentor, Tieh. He had not gotten much farther with the Legacy she had taught him, but it seemed the right thing to do to reconnect with her as an old contact. If she wasn't alive, she was likely a Nuit. In any case, if he was going to settle in Zeltiva, he wanted to have colleagues here. But she didn't seem to be in the same laboratories, or else his normally eidetic memory was failing him. He didn't like to ask for directions, as the Nuit seemed so wrapped up in their own thoughts, those few he saw. He wondered if that was how other people saw him. When he saw a face out of the corner of his eye, one that was familiar, he turned to look. Was it...? Yes, it would seem so. Thomas had grown up, but then Hadrian had too, and grown strange, with his natural colors altered by the effects of the djed storm in Avanthal. His bright blue eyes were now abnormally bright, and his hair streaked through with dark blue. But in the dim light, perhaps it was not so very obvious. He never bothered to cover up the mutations with illusion, not unless he was attempting to hide his identity, which was not the case here. "Thomas!" he called, but not too loud. The nuit here were silent as the grave. He walked quickly to catch up with him.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas turned quickly, suprised to hear his name called outside the lab. Most kept to themselves in Sahova, but he supposed someone could have trailed him from Lab 15.

Thomas halted seeing the figure approaching, knowing he had see the familiar human, but not exactly remembering from where.

And then it hit him.

"Hadrian?" he asked, the name both familiar and foreign. Thomas glanced at the approaching figure, trying to place the before with the now. Dark blue streaks ran naturally through the once completely black hair, his eyes, once a deep blue, now glowed vibrantly, reminding Thomas of ice brightened by Syna's glare.

"You...are Vantha?" Thomas asked, not sure of how to take Hadrian's sudden change appearance, but not bothering to offer an explanation as to his own either. After all, it was hardly surprising to see a malnourished human walking the halls of Sahova. It would be obvious he had spent some time on the undead isle?

"How are you? Did Zeltiva treat you well?" Thomas asked, barely able to hold himself from exploding with questions. It had been, what, six years since they last met? "I still have the golden niro, by the way," he smiled, glad to be in the company of another Syliran, of another human. "I still haven't made my way to Zeltiva...yet."

[Hadrian]

"It is you," he said as he caught up with him. He couldn't hide the smile, though it was likely apropos of nothing. Six years, indeed. "Oh." He ran his long-fingered hand nervously through his hair. "Apparently a little on my mother's side. I was in Avanthal when the djed storms struck. Melted all the snow, changed my coloring a bit, though I'm still pale. Queen Morwen said I'd come of the Iceglaze Hold, which was nice because they let me use their facilities after that. "I, ah... oh, you do?" He laughed quietly as if he couldn't believe it. When had he last thought of that strange meeting by Kova's Well? Thomas had never come, but here he was in another center of learning. "Oh. Zeltiva was... great. It really was. I mean, you were right. Lots of opportunities for learning, and then travel. Not much of a love life, but..." He shrugged. Better not much than a whole lot of bad. "You should come. More food there. Not much more soon; there's often a famine in Winter if they don't stock up enough food. But the rest of the time there's at least fish. Mouths to feed there. Here..." Well, Thomas knew. "What about you? Have you been in Sahova long? What are you doing here?" He paused. The last was almost rude. "Sorry, if you don't mind my asking."

[Thomas Cosa]

"Avanthal with no snow?" Thomas repeated, a brief image of blindingly pale snow and delicate ice buildings flashed in his mind, the young mage trying to imagine Morwen's winter kingdom turned warm, "That must've been something," he added, wishfully, perhaps inappropriate. "I was in Mura myself, but we had quite a time to prepare. The vision water was enhanced by the wild Djed, and I believe the local wildlife was effected, but otherwise Mura held strong," Thomas said plainly, "But I am glad to know you fared well -- I suppose you don't know anything else of the Djed Storms? Of other cities?' Thomas asked, wondering if the learned scholar would have any insight to the strange and violent phenomena.

"Yeah, of course!" Thomas laughed, "I said I would keep it, no? Besides, how else am I suppose to make my way over?" he asked, teasing, as if a single niro would afford himself passage to the famous port city. "Good, I am glad you took advantage of the University," Thomas nodded, "But," he continued, "You've also seem to have traveled much since last we met -- is there much you haven't see," he asked smiling, a tone a jealously hinted at his words.

Thomas smiled, nodding at the mention of food, "Of course, I'd imagine the desert would have more to offer me then the dead, so maybe soon," he vaguely promised, still unsure of his stay on Sahova.

"Almost a season now, but I would be lying if I said it to be enjoyable," he muttered, his face turning grim, "Animation, and golem building," he shrugged, "But the Nuits guard their secrets well. I haven't managed to learn much more then I did under my mentor in Mura."

"And you? Did you stick with your father's studies, or did you find something better?" he grinned, eager to know if Hadrian had found something he wanted to study for himself.

[Hadrian]

"Well, most cities suffered some damage. I was spilling my soul out to make ice for the reavers to slap up on Morwen's palace to keep it from melting. Overgave, and that was all the more reason to get on the first boat headed east. So I saw some of the aftermath at Mura and Nyka. Nyka was warned by Mura, so they weren't hit so badly as Avanthal, but the wilderness has been twisted some. There are reports of mutated monsters..." He smiled faintly at Thomas' enthusiasm, once again quietly inspired by him. It was a strange thing, for he didn't know him well, and yet he had left an indelible mark upon him, and here they were together again in the Citadel of the undead masters of Sahova. Lhex had a strange sense of humor. "Well, I haven't seen the deserts of Eyktol, or the mountains of Kalea other than a brief trip to Alvadas for work. I'm only a dabbler at animation and its attendant skills, but I learned from a Nuit as well. And, well, history turned into anthropology, which turned into the relationship between cultural development and magic. Magical theory was fascinating, and then I started learning bits here and there and now. Well, I'm a scholar, but I have some practical applications up my sleeve, I suppose. At least Zeltiva has heating and food and such." He chuckled. "But am I interrupting your work or...?"

[Thomas Cosa]

"You overgave?" Thomas asked, his smile widening nervously, "Nothing too serious, I hope?"

"The relation between cultural development and magic?" Thomas repeated, interested, "Personally, I've always held a certain fascination by the idea of a correlation between the two, of course, I haven't had any formal study regarding the topic. I've always believed magic as a precursor, or perhaps even a catalyst for more advanced cultures and societies. Should I ever find myself in Zeltiva, that'll definitly be something to look into. Do you know if the University has many classes on the subject?" he asked, considering the trip. Zeltiva was a center of knowledge after all, only second to Sahova itself, plus he wouldn't starve there.

"My work?" he asked, confused, "Oh. no," he said, briskly, "The dead aren't keen on the living, and as you can imagine, my time I can devote to my studies is...," he paused, deciding on a work, "limited. Although, I have some time if you would like to see the lab? Perhaps maybe you could convince them otherwise," he laughed, joking. Thomas would have no idea Hadrian had visited the island years before, and had made connections amongst even the Archwizard. He probably could get some time allotted for an animation.

[Hadrian]

"Nothing too serious," he assured him. "I have overgiven several times, but never seriously. I'm always trying to find the edges of my abilities so I don't plow past them and really hurt myself. Or others." He blinked then. Normally he wouldn't be so forthcoming, but it was Thomas. "I believe the evidence of history supports the thesis that magic and culture affected each other, but... Well, I teach the occasional class, but generally I have students that I mentor as it's sort of specific. Then if there are things they want to learn outside of my bailiwick, they take classes from other professors. You're welcome to visit. You can stay with me if you need a place for a while. "Please," he said, indicating Thomas should lead him. If he knew Thomas needed a good word, he might try. He wasn't sure that the average Nuit knew who he was, though. He doubted Mashaen and Farke updated everyone on everything, nor that the average Nuit cave a shit.

[Thomas Cosa]

"Understandable," Thomas nodded, "And only logical. Possessing magic is a hazard as much as it can be a boon, so it would be unwise of you to be unaware of your limitations," Thomas said, as if Hadrian had asked for his opinion.

"Of course, this way, please," he motioned towards a large, archaic door, and began walking briskly. "We will be passing through the courtyards, essentially a field of graves marked by the unfortunate of Sahova," he mentioned grimly, the grandiose door opening to an eerily silent courtyard, marked by various headstones and commemorative statues, an eternal fog clinging to the cold ground. "The spirits may grab at you, or call out; it's best to ignore them," he added, turning around as if to check Hadrian was still behind him, "Nothing close to the barrier," he pointed at the iron fence, frail in appearance, "Is harmful, at least so I've been told," Thomas continued, his hair teased by a windless breeze, "But I try not to instigate them, either way," he sighed, barely watching the misty trail, knowing the way to the labs by heart.

They continued through the silent graveyard, and passed through another pair of ancient doors, them too opening without help, "I've always assumed the doors themselves to be animated, although I have yet to see any proof of any...," he paused briefly, thinking of a word, "forethought regarding their programming, if they are animated," Thomas said, his voice echoing carelessly throughout the empty hall. "I mean," he started chuckling, "I haven't seen anything to stop me from going anywhere in the Citadel, so far, the only security outside the Citadel, although," he smiled, "I suppose once your inside Sahova, you know enough not to go outside by yourself."

They passed through another hallway, filled with cages, screams and cries filling the air. Thomas would notably speed up, and silently, pass the hall. It was obvious their condition bothered him, but even still, he wasn't about to do anything about it. He valued his position too much, as well as his life.

The longer he stayed in Sahova, the more people he began to recognize in the cages.

Quickly, they passed hall after hall, corridor after corridor, the clean and organized feel of the upper levels of the Citadel slowly changing to a more cavernous feel. The sounds of tools and wheels began to echo loudly, and finally, at one of the deepest levels of the Caverns Thomas knew well, they arrived at Lab 15.

"So, you're a professor, now?" Thomas asked politely, leading the young professor to an open desk, gadgets, tools, and designs littered across the stone table.