[Rearing Stallion] We Meet Again (Mason)

[Hadrian]

41st Fall, 510 A.V. Hadrian leaned back in his chair, the remains of his meal hastily cleared away by a serving girl. As his drink was still near full, she left him be and he was hardly paying attention. His eyes were fixed fast on the tablet of paper before him where he was scribbling notes, drawing diagrams, and generally trying to get his chaos of thoughts down onto paper so he could sort them into an orderly collection that might help him in the future. His single-pointed focus was generally directed at ideas more than people, which would surely account for the low number of friends and nonexistent amount of lovers in his life. Even the ignored serving girl favored him with a few lingering glances, but he never lifted his eyes from his work. The light was generally too low for reading, but Hadrian had another type of Sight upon which to rely. The swipes and swirls his quill made across the paper altered the djed, as certain of the glyphs were meant to, and perhaps he was just used to straining his eyes to find the meaning in words despite any impediments. The lunch crowd was hardly as rowdy as it would get later in the evening, but his solitary study earned him a few odd looks. These too were patently ignored. The young enchanter lived in a world of his own, and it took some doing to burst the bubble of his concentration.

[Mason Sinovian]

Mason was growing accustomed to waking up under the low hanging boughs of a willow tree when the sun’s light peaked through the vacant leaves. He had been using this tree as a home for nearly two weeks now and was always surprised to find it available when he returned to hunker down. Wiping the sleep crust from his eyes, Mason stood up, stretched, then crouched down to begin folding up the wool cloak he used for ground cover. Putting away his cloak, he double-checked the area. Finally, Mason checked the small fire pit, encircled by stones, to make sure there weren’t any residual embers glowing. He didn’t want his house to burn down. Pushing aside the curtain of yellow leaves to make his entrance into the world, a number of leaves fell off the branch and joined their decomposing brethren on the ground. “Thank you, Fall, for destroying my home”, grumbled Mason as he started walking towards the road leading to the main gate of Syliras. Mason decided that today would be a good day to finally find someplace decent to live. He was sufficiently fed with plants he found and some small game he was able to trap, but Winter was coming and there was no way he would survive living under a barren tree eating non-edible plants while wearing a woolen cloak. It was time to start using the money his grandfather gave him the day he left home. Waiting in line for his turn at the main gate checkpoint, the Knights on duty were quite familiar with Mason’s coming and goings and let him pass after briefly checking his pack. “Hmm, where to start?”, thought Mason as he walked through the gate and meandered by some shops and a tavern with the white and red horse sign. He continued walking until he found an entrance to Stormhold proper. Entering the Citadel and joining the flow of Syliran inhabitants, Mason began to wonder about that bloodied man from the day before. The thought lasted seconds as more important thoughts dominated his mind. “Where will I find a home?” As usual, Mason decided that just wandering around might give him the opportunity he would need to find a good yet cheap place to live. After wandering for a couple hours, Mason had seen no vacancies and he was beginning to grow tired and hungry. Making his way out of the Citadel, Mason was ready to leave and gather some lunch in the fields surrounding the walls of Syliras. As he walked by the horse sign, he caught a wif of something heavenly coming from what he guessed was the tavern, and stopped. Turning and following his nose, Mason found himself walking through the tavern door. Upon entering, he immediately noticed the somber nature of the place. There weren’t that many patrons and low lights seemed to illuminate each table. He thought that was kind of odd for a tavern at lunch time. Having second thoughts about eating here, he gave the tavern one last scan to decide if he would be better off leaving and fending for himself. As he glanced through the tavern, a shape caught his eye. “Is that, that man from the alley yesterday?” Mason said to himself as images of yesterday’s events in the alley began to unfurl in his minds eye. “I wonder what he is doing here? He seems to be intently working on something. But what is it? It’s way to dark to be reading or writing anything.” Deciding that he would stay, if only to see what the man was doing, Mason walked by the man so he could take a peak at what was being worked on so intently. Observing a bunch of gibberish, Mason continued on then took a seat at a table about fifteen feet to the man’s right side. Perplexed, Mason tried to divide his attention between the serving girl and trying to get a better look at the man and his weird motivation.

[Hadrian]

Perhaps it was the attention he was paying to the other spectra that made the man's entrance known to him, a familiar ripple in the ambient energies that caused him to look up from his work and over to the side. There was the vaguely familiar face, the pretty boy with the heart of gold or whatever he was. He was dirty, that much was certain. But it had been the other one who had tried to stop Hadrian from leaving, the self-righteous one who had come in and tried to manage a situation that had nothing to do with him. But at least Hadrian hadn't had to play medic for Thomas. He had felt bad after leaving, but only once the irritation wore off. If the others hadn't all come running at the same time, Hadrian might have kept his cool and played good samaritan, but as it was... He smiled to the man, a bit sheepishly. Hadrian wasn't proud of himself, but perhaps he could mitigate things by showing a bit of kindness and generosity to the other man, who if memory served had been of the same mind as Hadrian himself. Thomas was up and walking, and while he might have needed someone to catch him if he fell, he had looked able enough to get to where he needed to be for medical attention. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, peering at the man with what he hoped was a friendly expression. He found that he frequently misjudged things where interpersonal skills were required, and each negative experience drove him deeper into the shell of his studies and his interior world. "I mean, never mind... You're probably meeting people or something." He started to turn away, back to his studies, but it was all starting to look like gibberish to him now too. The imprint of the man's aura now superimposed the glyphs, diagrams, and notes he had been taking, like looking too long at the sun. He blinked away his augmented vision and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, shutting his eyes tight for a brief respite of darkness. He had probably overdone it with the auristics, but he had been in a groove, and it seemed like he was able to discern so much more from the energies around him these days. Advancement was exciting! But when he opened his eyes again, the man was still there. The aura was but a memory, dim in his eyes, but the mundane remained. Hadrian smiled again. Awkwardly.

[Mason Sinovian]

Despite the odd light provided by the table top lanterns, Mason was able to vaguely see what the man was doing. He tried not to stare, but the light was not conducive to people watching. Gazing at the serving girl to get her attention, then back to the man and his work, Mason became lost in his desire to understand what the stranger was doing. Suddenly, the man looked at Mason with what appeared to be a grin on his face. Shit.. said Mason to himself as he quickly looked over to the hearth. I hope he didn't... "Can I buy you a drink?" came a solitary voice, deep, yet thoughtful. "Never mind, you're probably..." Was that voice directed at me? thought Mason, still not looking in the direction of the stranger. By the grains! It had to be. The voice was so close. Peeling his eyes off the flames in the hearth to find out, Mason looked and saw the man turn his body back towards his work. What the... why would he ask something then answer his own question? pondered Mason. As he continued to stare at the stranger, the man began to rub his face, possibly to relieve some tension in his brain and then smiled again. This time not at anyone in particular. Is this man sane? said Mason to himself, trying to read the strangers body language. After several moments, the pressure to engage the gentleman was accumulating in Mason's mind. His nerves were beginning to quiver. "Umm, excuse me, sir. Did you say something?"

[Hadrian]

Hadrian's chlorine blue gaze locked on the other man's. Perhaps he was making fun of the erstwhile enchanter. His jaw clenched a bit as if he could stem the flow of blood to his face by sheer force. But Hadrian was obviously an indoor sort of fellow, and his fair skin did little to hide his little embarrassments. All the same, he didn't drop his gaze. He was a graduate of the University of Zeltiva, damn it. He wasn't some knock-kneed, illiterate squire! "I said..." he began slowly, then corrected himself. "I asked if I could buy you a drink. That alleyway confrontation was a bit awkward, and I'm sure I didn't comport myself as I should have." Sometimes when he was nervous, his speech became unnecessarily elaborate. "Just to smooth things over, I mean." He didn't know why he bothered; the plan was to go back to Zeltiva post-haste, and yet he was still here. "You don't have to. It was just an offer. A little peace in the name of Sylir, though he is gone."

[Mason Sinovian]

Gazing into the fellows piercing blue eyes, Mason was immediately reminded of his grandfather Ellis. Like his grandfather, the stranger's eyes seemed to hold a mysterious knowledge. A certain level of, I know how to break you if I deem it necessary. However, the interesting thing was that this man could be no older than his early twenties. I wonder what he has experienced, thought Mason. Listening to the man talk of their first meeting brought a smile to Mason's face, even though he didn't show it. The man speaking to him was right, their meeting had been a bit awkward. Part of the reason things got so awkward in alley was probably because the man was caught in a position he didn't want to be in. Like those stories of people who did good things, but never wanted other people to know of their deeds. Mason recalled walking into the alley followed by another two men, only to discover a bloodied man and an intense guy leaning over him. Then how tempers flared and words were exchanged that probably wouldn't have happened if the differences between the people involved weren't so great. But, that is why Syliras is such an exciting city. Over the week or so that Mason lived under the willow tree right outside Syliras, he had limited exposure to people that gave him the time of day. With so many people crammed in one area, that result really wasn't too surprising. However, some out there did seem willing to help or talk, but unfortunately nothing ever seemed to develop for him. More surprising though, was that Mason ran into the same unlikely stranger twice. Despite the circumstances surrounding their initial meeting, this guy was willing to communicate. Albeit, a bit strangely. So, maybe Mason decided to stay because he wanted to find out this man's story. Or possibly he wanted to stay because of something his grandfather told him. "If you chance upon meeting the same stranger more than once, it may be that fate has intervened and set upon you the opportunity to receive a message. Something that might help you in the future. Find a way to explore that opportunity." And so Mason took up the strange mans offer because this might be a fine opportunity to learn something about the man as well as integrate himself in the place he wanted to call home. Besides, Mason was never one to turn down a drink.

[Hadrian]

The young enchanter was hardly a savant where social niceties were concerned. The rules of etiquette had been drilled into him by his mother, may she rest in peace, but while he could rattle them off as if reading from a book, he often forgot to practice what he knew. He thought himself lacking in natural charisma, though someone had once told him that it was his introversion that both attracted and repelled people. Some would want to know what he was thinking and not saying, and others would fear what might be going on inside his head. Regardless, he was a bit taken aback to be taken up on his offer. It had been sincere, but sincerity had rarely won him friends, or even drinking partners. There had been colleagues, like Torc, who Hadrian assumed only hung around him in order to look even more impressive next to the skinny wizard in his student days. There had been women like Ha'na, who were too beautiful to be trusted, and who stole his money and his time without giving anything back. As such, there was a flicker of suspicion within him at Mason's smile. Would this man be another in a long line of disappointments? Hadrian had found that he cared about humanity in the abstract, but real relationships were trying for him. He called for the drinks, and tried to think of something interesting to say the whole time they were waiting. By the time the drinks came, all he had managed to come up with was: "So... what brings you to Syliras?"

[Mason Sinovian]

Pushing his chair back, Mason stood up on shaky legs, grabbed his pack, and made his way over to the man’s table. Setting his bag down on the ground, Mason pulled out the chair, sat down and put the strap of his pack around his leg. Looking around the room and at the man who just ordered them drinks, streams of potential topics coursed through his brain but none left his mouth. Why did this man make him feel so strange? Thought Mason. Finally the drinks arrived and the man, for whatever reason, broke the silence. “So…what brings you to Syliras?” asked the man sitting across from him. Pondering how much information he wanted to divulge to this man, Mason replied, “I am…well was… a farmer.” After a few moments, thinking about what he would say, he continued on. “I left that life to pursue something better. I’m not sure exactly what. But, I just needed a changed in my life. The stories I’ve heard. The soldiers I’ve witnessed. There must be something better out there. So, I left my family and the farm behind. However, I’m not so sure I made the right choice. I didn’t even give my family a proper goodbye.” Shocked by what he just told a complete stranger, Mason eyed the man to see what kind of response his brief story would illicit.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian's face was rather passive as he listened, his eyes not cold, but certainly cool. Of course, he wasn't exactly a cold fish, but he kept things compartmentalized within himself, and things rarely came to the surface unless they were shocked out of him. "So you felt the need for something different, but now you feel guilty that your freedom came at the expense of your family?" he asked, trying to sum things up in his own words to make sure he understood. The emotions of other people were often alien to him, who was so locked within his thoughts that emotions of any sort tended to take him by surprise. "I know how you feel," he said, a trifle surprised that he could empathize. "I moved to Zeltiva to get away from my family. Well, I moved there for an education, but there was the added bonus of being away from them for the first time in my life, to be my own person, not the bookish son of Trajan Aelius." He frowned for a moment, trying to figure out exactly how he felt now his mother was gone. When his pale blue gaze swung back up to meet Mason's, it was full of certainty. Mostly. "It's the right thing to do, though... We only have so long to live, and we should live in the time we're given." He raised his cup as if it were a toast.

[Mason Sinovian]

Listening to the man's story, Mason began to feel the tension in his muscles diffuse and his nerves begin to calm. It was odd that feeling. Sitting across from a strange person in an unfamiliar tavern in a city he was slowly getting used to. One would think tensions would be on overdrive. Mason raised the mug to his mouth, took a drink, then wiped the foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand. It was amazing that this man had an education from Zeltiva, pondered Mason. He heard stories about the place and often wondered what it would be like to go there. I should find out if he attended the University, thought Mason. Hopefully the man would share more stories of his life with him. Trying not to appear lost in thought, Mason focused his attention on the conversation in time to nod his confirmation of the man's comment. It felt like a relief to hear the man tell him he made the right choice by leaving. Seeing the man lift up his mug to toast, Mason followed suit, unsure whether he should hit their mugs together like he would do with the people he knew from home or refrain. Deciding against a mighty clank, he brought his mug back down after taking another drink. Looking down into the bottom of his mug, Mason felt a sudden urge to just talk. "You know what I find strange?" asked Mason letting a moment go by for effect. "The people here in Syliras. I've been to this city quite a few times with my father to pick up supplies for the house, but I never really took the time to look at the people. Since I've been here on my own, I've been run into, leered at, and confronted by people who all seem to have their own hidden agenda. Maybe it just has to do with this society being so culturally diverse. You know?", proposed Mason as he looked over at the fireplace then back towards his drinking partner.