Location The Northern Docks

[Phyolea]

1 Winter 514AV

Phyolea stood on land for the first time since she fled Zeltiva many moons ago. She had forgotten the unpleasant sensation of cold air and of bipedal motions. Now she focused on her movements and surroundings. She was on a dock of some sort. It was nighttime. It was not unlike Zeltiva. The major difference was that this dock was not in an uproar, a fact for which she felt immediate gratitude. She also felt sore and hungry. Her journey had been a long and grueling one. Yet she could not bring herself to return to Charbosi. How could she return a failure?

She did not know what brought her to this strange isle. Perhaps she wanted to know if it truly existed. Perhaps she wanted to understand all of the senseless death she had witnessed in her life. Perhaps she would beg the goddess of death to allow her to join her deceased friends and family. Now that she saw that this isle was indeed real, she was at a loss. Now what?

"You look lost... lass?" Phyolea was so focused on trying to walk correctly that she had not noticed the hu-man with the striking blue eyes. She sighed inwardly.

"Yes, I am a lady." At least this land dweller didn't run off screaming at the sight of her. Maybe this place won't be so bad.

"Are you here to celebrate Myri's birthday?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"Myri? Who's that- Wait, you mean the goddess?"

"Aye. Didn't figure you'd be here for that. You're one of them Charoda right?"

Phyolea was impressed. She had not encountered many in Zeltiva who knew of her people. "Yes." She liked the man's eyes. They calmed her and reminded her of home. "I had a... friend who told me about this... Myri." Phyolea remembered her encounter with a woman called Iff. The woman came from a warrior people who were devoted to this Myri. Phyolea could not understand the mindset of these people. They seemed to enjoy bloodshed. She should have known that an isle like this would have wanton death and bloodshed everywhere.

"Yeah this place has quite a few of you Charoda people and those Iyvess. They blocked our ships from traveling into the Eastern Bay to accomodate you all. You staying a while?"

Phyolea thought about it. She had nowhere else to go. "Yes... unless I'm murdered this evening."

"What are you on about? Why would you be murdered?"

"Well... isn't that what goes on here? Death? And now everyone is celebrating that Myri's birthday... Doesn't she require blood sacrifices or something?"

The man let out a bellowing laugh. "Lass, I think you got the wrong impression about how this place runs. You'll see when you get to the Administration Office. All new people need to check in there." The man pointed south. "Head up that peak. Don't go off wandering. You'll see the office when you get up there. You can't miss it."

Phyolea peered through the darkness at the peak. She was too tired to be afraid. Everything seemed ominous to her, yet she couldn't will herself to care. "Do I need to look out for creatures that lurk in the darkness?"

The man sighed. "Look, how about I just go with you. I can't be gone long though... I gotta tend to my pod." The man extended a hand. "Name's Porter."

Phyolea had completely forgotten about etiquette and introductions. She felt a bit foolish. "I'm Phyolea. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The two shook hands. Phyolea was mildly impressed Porter did not flinch at her webbed hand. "Off we go then." Porter led the way. The two of them headed out on the path to the Administration Office.

continued here

[Jashkataal]

1st of Winter 514 AV
Northern Docks

The endless blue of the open ocean and sky faded gray and finally black as the Sun set. The Moon was slow to rise on the horizon and the interim the stars of the night sky blazed fiercely overhead, till they were joined by their large companion.

Jashkatall floated silently atop the pitch black waters, their little waves lapped near the bones that comprised the metatarsals. There was really no reason not to touch the cold, dark and nameless waters. The same water that had once birthed him now served as an endless expanse on which to drift. He had lost all sense of direction in death, and even the familiar halls of the long ago Citadel lost a sort of coherence once he became aware once more. But then directions seemed to mean less when walls no longer mattered.

Though being alone and at sea for two years had done little to hone his sense of direction.

In the distance there was a prick of light, much like that of the burning stars high above. And yet the closer he drew the more came into view. Until the long double row of torches of the Northern Dock became apparent.

Jashkataal attempted to draw closer but suddenly became aware of a looming presence in the distance. He more felt it than understood it. But it was impossibly large and it seemed that wave after wave of pressure issued from it. Jashkataal floated unmoving for many long moments and then retreated further out into the darkness, away from the mysterious island and its lit dock.

He wasn't sure how far he went before the pressure abated but the smallish pricks of light could still be seen. It was then he noticed others nearby, other ghost. Some floated part way in the water, others just below its surface, their visage distorted by the water's movements. They were about as far from the island as Jashkataal, just outside the reach of the pressure; and in the darkness they slowly began to circle the little, mysterious island. Waiting for the time to approach.