Legend in Scale

by **Brodon Windriver** on June 29th, 2013, 9:43 pm

49th of Summer, 513, post dawn.

His pre-journey prayer to Laviku having been seen to, Brodon waked away from the beach, reaching the road by the time the initial soaking in the waves had been reduced to mere dampness by the breeze and the approaching heat. He wished he had known how grand Riverfall was before now. 'And I wish I had some mizas to spend.' he thought with a wry chuckle.

The barter system in much of Eyktol, where he'd spent the last year and a half, had been fine. But he had come away with no mizas in his pocket. This had not been a concern before. But now he disliked the feeling that he was a freeloader, hands open and extended to receive whatever he needed to uphold his end of the expedition's needs in Syka. He had been raised to believe that frugality was part of that obligation. Spending money wisely so you HAD it when you needed it, and didn't have to trust to the expedition's leader to provide for you.

It was true, he had his own bow, staff, arrows, change of clothes, whip, hygiene amenities, packs, horse, etc. All the basics to see to himself and his projected duties when they reached Falyndar. Also he had his hawk, Arrow, and the expected ensemble of Falconry gear. But if anything unexpected arose, he was empty handed to aid in the amassing of supplies to deal with it. Naturally he would give his backbone and muscle, but this was often the least of what was really needed.

Ironically, part of his self-reproach stemmed from the same source that had given rise to his new burst of enthusiasm. His fortune reading with one of his soon-to-be party members, one Lucas Arias, had given him a clue as to his purpose. He was meant to go to Falyndar! The problem was, that if he was only along on someone else' mission and had no personal stake in it, a contribution of simple dumb work effort would have satisfied him. But now that he knew there was something huge and personally significant to him, He felt like he should be in Mathias Syka's place, rewarding effort to those contributing with no real vested interest.

Both of these points robbed him of the bulk of his sleep last night. Raging eagerness to go see what fate had in store for him, and stifling guilt that he was sponging off of others for something that was only in his own interest.

He knew that this was not truly the case. He had been at the mustering. All the others had expressed their reasons for going, and they were all sound. Even those that were simply going along for adventure. There were none that had said, "I do not know, I am simply bored." He believed Sir Mathias would have rejected any with such an attitude anyway. But he felt a beggar.

He turned a corner and began heading north, back towards the part of Riverfall where the mustering had been, and where his lodgings at Atri's Place were. He was thinking of accompanying Miss Denusk to The Sanctuary this day. He grinned at how she would probably scowl with a glint of amusement in her rolling eyes had she heard him refer to her thus. Her name was "Delani", not "Miss".

As his spirits lifted with thought of her, his eyes roamed to a building now on his right. Earlier it had, of course, been on his left. but it had also been dark enough that he hadn't seen exactly what the building was. Now he saw 'Valkalah Academy' engraved in the top arcs of the heavy wooden doors. He thought about the likelihood of there being a library within and took a few steps towards the grand ornate edifice.

Just then a swirling waft of wind brought the "aroma" of unchanged clothes, sweat and dried tidal residue to his nostrils. He came to quick halt and adjusted back to his original route. He would go back to his room at Atri's, clean up, change back into his old Drykas style clothes and return to see if they had maps here.

by **Brodon Windriver** on June 30th, 2013, 6:16 pm

Upon returning to his room at Atri's Place, he realized he needed to do some work with 'Arrow', his hawk. He decided it could a while longer. After all, he would be bringing the sleek young sparrowhawk down to the ships to familiarize him with each one individually. And he'd given him a bath only the night before. But he did feed him some scraps of the less seasoned meats from the night before.

He sat him on his arm for a moment and spoke in his limited Nari, a series of chirps and trills for the most part, with a few clicks and warbles thrown in. "Wait - sun high - man "Brodon" return - fly to water - water house - target marking - go new house, new ground, new sky." He considered a moment, and added "New dangers." Arrow gave a somewhat restrained shriek of defiance and Brodon stroked him and gave him another bit of meat. "Yes - we two - man "Brodon" plus hunter "Arrow" - we eat danger." Arrow trilled a "growl" and beaked Brodon's finger without drawing blood. Brodon winced only slightly and stroked Arrow again, knowing the gesture was one of familiarity, not of aggression.

He returned Arrow to the cage and draped the blanket over it. There was a squawk of protest, but Brodon knew he couldn't keep him caged while allowing him to see the room and any shadows across the drapes. It would be maddening to the bird and truly drive home the point that he was caged. This way, he would soon grow content with his little space and his command of it.

Brodon got himself cleaned and changed and stepped back out into the summer morning, now in full bloom. Now people were taking to the streets to pursue their own agendas and Brodon marveled at the variety, not only of clothes, and hairstyles and skin colors, but of architecture and ornamentation, both at street level and topping the walls and spires. For a moment, he forgot where he had been going and started up the wrong street, heading instinctively for the Stables and Lovaak. Even as he caught himself, and turned to go back the way he'd come, he caught his first unhurried sight of the Knirin Gardens in the first light of morning.

It was magnificent! A misty rainbow of arboreal splendor and tranquil meadows, all boasting a mosaic mural of color in patterns that seemed both naturally random and cunningly crafted at the same time. He wished he could take some time to relax amidst its glory, but he had an errand remaining that could not wait. He wished he had been able to reach Riverfall sooner, in response to Mr. Syak's invitation, and enjoy more time to simply marvel at the city, but time was what it was, and waited for no man.

by **Brodon Windriver** on July 1st, 2013, 2:58 am

Brodon did not rush, but he wasted no time in reaching the Academy. The morning sun lit the building with all the glory of Syna's blessing. In no place was it a harsh blinding glare, nor a defiant shadow. it seemed that the architecture aimed for the reflected illumination to bathe every nook of the structure in radiance.

Brodon took this as a good sign. He went to the great wooden doors and found them easily opened. He stepped into soft light, some from torches, some from windows and found himself before a large circular desk with an Akalak in attendance. Brodon paused as he took in the richness of the wood and stone and gem-highlighted adornments which graced the pillars and braces as well as the rails and eaves of every overhang and balcony.

The attendant took his cue, realizing the young man before him must be new, whether he was a student or not. "Good morning, young sir. Is there some way I may be of assistance?"

Brodon started at the voice, and turned with a slight blush and a broad grin. "Yes. There is a way." Brodon began slowly, with deliberate thought of every word, not wanting to, once again, betray his near illiteracy in spoken common. "I am..." he paused, remembering a temporary tutor he'd had in Yahebah, whose main lesson had been NOT to say "being" so much. "...looking for the..." he grew self conscious and could not think of the word "library" to save his life. A word came to him like a lifeline. "...Maps?"

The attendant did his best to hide his recognition of the young man's struggles. "Certainly we have maps, sir. All our Atlas, navigational and geographical material is in the 'references' wing. You go down the stairs..." he pointed to an opening on the right, at the far end of the central hallway. "...turn left, stay along the near wall to the back and they will be the last three rows of shelves, extending north to the middle walkway."

Brodon began to head down the great hallway, when the attendant came up behind him. "Oh, and there is a large atlas of pre-valterian cartography on a dais in the center of that walkway, flush with the second of those three rows."

Brodon thanked the dark green man and made his way, according to the given directions, to the 'reference material' section. He'd never seen such a layout and took hm a good quarter bell to realize that it was the very organization that was throwing him off. Mostly he'd seen peoples individual collections and they were usually alphabetically arranged. He saw several such arrangements and didn't know why there were different, separately collated groups of alphabetically arranged books.

It finally registered that each type of book, sailing, gardening, bird-watching, etc... had it's OWN alphabetical arrangement. Once he grasped this, he found the maps in short order and removed several to carry to an unoccupied desk and began going through them.

It occurred to him quickly that he should have his sketch on hand and opened for comparison. He did so, laying it to the right as he turned pages, superimposing the sketch image in his mind over the actual maps on the pages of the books. He knew it may take awhile, so he made himself as comfortable as he could.

by **Brodon Windriver** on July 2nd, 2013, 3:50 am

The bells of morning passed in growing frustration. He found nothing that exactly matched the outline of the symbol he had sketched. There was no doubt as to the accuracy of his rendition of it. He had focused on it for far too long to have distorted it beyond the small degree of leeway he'd allowed.

There was an inner shape that he took to be a lake, but gave consideration to the possibility of it being a mountain or a city. There were a number of extended protrusions that were difficult to assess. If they were parts of a boundary it was a most radical geographical feature defining it. It could be a river, of course, or it could be the coastline of an island. There was nothing else that was marked. There had been a number of small spots that he'd never been sure of. Had they been part of the symbol, or were they simply bruises on his father's head from the fall he'd taken when he fell into his swoon?

He tried maps of inland zones, both claimed and unclaimed. There were, of course, enlarged maps showing only small areas, maps of city street plans and farmlands. He'd thought for a moment that the protrusions might represent harbor piers, but they were too random and poked out from too many places, and too much of the circumference of the entire symbol to logically be such things.

He looked to references of legend and myth, thinking it may be a representative of some past city, perhaps brought to ruin in the Valterian. Again, covering all the possibilities of lake and mountain and city and grotto. There were, of course, accounts of rivers that had dried that might encompass the wild extensions around the perimeter of the symbol. he checked them as well, but nothing ever matched. There were a few that had portions that gave rise to hopes, only to depart from the pattern in crushing certainty of mismatch.

Some were boundaries of city-states, some were not zones at all, but just charted roads that encompassed a basically circular area. More than one were actually lakes with a small island, not the reverse. He began to despair of getting any clue. Even when he found something that was vaguely similar in overall outer shape, there were neither of the two features within, the one being the assumed lake, the other being a simple mark of uncertain designation.

His sitting with Lucas had been so energizing, both for him and for the fortune teller himself. The sudden flow of energy or insight that had gripped the redheaded kid, had been like a sign from the gods. Now it seemed more like a prank. When Lucas had said that it wasn't himself, but the staff that triggered his sense of fate, Brodon had gone back over every symbol on the staff again. he had, of course, done this many times since the start of his quest, but he thought maybe some new thing would be revealed.

But all that was revealed was that the staff needed to be returned...somewhere. He himself felt guided by the gods to go to Falyndar, so he assumed it was there that the staff was supposed to go. But there was nothing on any map he'd seen, of Falyndar or anywhere else, that matched the sketch. He slammed the last book closed in desperate frustration, only to draw a scowl from the basement attendant.

He grimaced and said a quiet but sincere apology, and made to leave as he came...with no insight whatsoever.

by **Brodon Windriver** on July 4th, 2013, 7:26 pm

He walked down the central passage in the wing and sidestepped around the dais with the atlas of rendered copies and sketched recollections of pre-valterian maps. He supposed a number of them must have been painstakingly researched and cross-referenced diagrams borne of the minds of focused cartographers reading and re-reading accounts of travels from the ancient times. He gave a mental nod of respect to such dedication to a purpose many might consider a waste of time.

On a whim he turned a page to find a surprisingly detailed drawing, with careful notations of elevations and contours, colored in to show the locational tendencies of the native flora and where rivers must have flowed. He turned more pages and marveled at the detail. Some had renderings of mining charts and showed the tentative estimates of ores and gems likely to be found in the designated areas, all color coded, but done so subtly, so as not to take away from the ability to picture the lay of the land a a glance.

There were zones he was currently familiar with that were nearly unrecognizable for the changes wrought on their inherent geography by the Valterian. This thought seemed to resist dismissal as he continued to turn pages, simply out of the enjoyment of seeing true master level cartography and sketching combined to display art and science as one. This thought of how the land had changed came back as he compared the names of areas and wracked his memory to think of newer maps he had seen of their current shapes.

One he had noted recently was, of course, Falyndar. He had gotten a jolt of hope as the shape of the jungle region came as near the shape of the mysterious symbol as anything else he'd studied. It had been short-lived though, there were a number of differences between the two. Many were only superficial, protrusions that were not on the map, but showed on the symbol, convex boundary points on the symbol where they were concave on the map. The location of the spot representing what he would assume to be a lake was similar but the shape was different. But the upper left side of the symbol departed significantly from the current shape of Falyndar.

The thought of changes to the maps from pre-Valterian to current times resurfaced again and a goal began to fix in his mind 'Falyndar...pre-Valterian Falyndar...where is it...' The problem being primarily one of the world before the Valterian not being so 'broken'. If he remembered correctly, What is called Falyndar now, was nothing more than the southern end of the Suvan Empire. Both were still connected to the mainland, naturally, but where the eastern edge would have been set by political boundaries, it was now defined by the Suvan Sea. Likewise the upper western quarter had been reshaped by a massive new bay, rounding the landmass in dramatically. Mental comparisons began to accrue and his hopes became outright excitement. It was all starting to make sense. It felt like more than just a possibility.

by **Brodon Windriver** on July 7th, 2013, 7:02 pm

He flipped through the pages. At first, thinking of checking every page in order. But many were places he'd never even heard of. Some charted elevations rather than area and he could not relate the shapes to any ranges he'd heard described before. The same then, with waterways. Areas were shown, but the focus was on the body of water and related tributaries. There were irrigation charts, farm plots outlining crop rotation schedules, county boundaries, archaeological diagrams, military bivouacs and disposition of logistical routes and arrays. All of fascinating historical interest to him.

But none of it was what he was looking for. He continued on, altering his focus on just the shapes, whether they indicated landmasses or not. Often the shapes were defined by lines of different colors or consistency, one part indicating a road, another the front of a plateau, the rest a river. But he did not care what defined the shape, only whether or not it matched the symbol on his sketch, it matching the symbol on his father's head. It was a short while later that he realized that this whole front section was charts and references, not the actual atlas section. It had been alphabetical arranged by functionality first, not area.

This was a great relief to him, as he was sure he had long since passed the "F" section, for 'Falyndar'. Now he sped ahead, expecting to find it with every new page turned. But always there was some new area of the old Suvan or Alahea empires with a name or designation preceding 'Falyndar'. Impatience ground his teeth, but he knew he needed to go slowly, or risk passing it in haste.

All at once, there it was. The world stopped, silent, motionless. There was only Brodon and the map of the southwestern end of the Suvan empire. All else was in stasis. The shape was identical, the upper left side continuing in a northwestern angle instead of rounded off by the Valterian-formed bay. The right side rounded by some old political boundary rather than pocked by concave features created by the in-rushing Suvan Sea. The lake now the same shape and location. The upper boundary a combination of river canyons, mesas, swamps and politics.

It was confirmed. The symbol on his father's head was an outline of the area of pre-Valterian Mizahar that would now be called 'Falyndar'. Slowly a sound began to creep into the frozen moment, his heart, racing with excitement. The Symbol! His father! He had his answer! Together with what Lucas' fortune reading had revealed the night before, he knew he needed to bring his father's iron Staff, with all it's mysterious symbols, to Falyndar! He was not positive, but the one remaining mark on the symbol that he could not account for was undoubtedly something that would be revealed when he got there. He was not sure where this Syka was located, but he suspected it was either there or nearby.

He closed the book slowly, carefully, reverently. He recalled that it had been Delani that had first made the map connection. He needed to thank her! He would drop to his knees and embrace her legs! He started to laugh. Joyous, unrestrained laughter. The attendant gave him a scowl, but it quickly changed to a mere stern look and a "keep it down" gesture. Brodon ran to him and hugged him, slapping his back and thanking him as well. He rushed up the stairs calling his announcement of what a great day it was to any and all that he saw. A few answered back in quiet, smiling agreement. Most others watched him with unmasked curiosity and some mild concern.

Something delani had said, or had it been him?, came back to him. That Libraries were like temples to Delani's goddess, Eyris, Goddess of knowledge and wisdom. It had been Delani's direction and Eyris' knowledge that had revealed his destiny. he would thank Delani when he reached at The Sanctuary. Eyris he could thank right now.

He dropped to his knees and said a quick but earnest prayer. Then he raced out the door and sped back to The Stables to retrieve Lovaak. He quickly threw the pad and yvas on him and walked him out, mounting and making for the north road at the quickest pace the expressions of the city guard would allow. When he reached the road, he called joyously to Lovaak, who was happy to respond with a gallop.

by **Magpie** on July 23rd, 2013, 7:34 pm

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Brodon :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, please don't hesitate to PM me.
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