Closed Red, White and New (Pho)

[Niello]

Winter 5, 514 The water of early winter was frigid, but Niello slid through its silvery shallows unconcerned and plenty warm. In his seal form, his thick protective layer of fat provided excellent insulation against the cold, and he swam on unthinking. Large grey-blue eyes scanned his surroundings, but it was by instinct and the more subtle clues of current and smell that he navigated. He’d been a resident of the mid and upper Suvan for two seasons, now, staying in his animal form almost exclusively. With a good working knowledge of the places he had visited, and a mental map secured in his head, the sea now felt as familiar to him as Syliras once had. He would return to his birthplace one day, perhaps. But he had much more to discover, out here in the wide world, and he intended to satisfy his curious mind for many, many more seasons to come. Sensing that he was nearing land once more, and knowing approximately where, on the western coast of the sea, he turned slightly and drew closer to the rocky shoreline. Ever careful of lurking predators – which were pretty much confined to sharks in these environs – he approached the land, and easily hauled out onto the cold, jagged mounds that bit into the surf, sending up a veil of white spray with every pulse of the tide. Gratefully, he dropped the small, oiled pack onto the ground which he had borne all these months, gripped in his teeth. It made for more awkward swimming, and he had to always find a place to secure it before he could hunt and eat the fish that made up his diet. But it contained all his worldly, human, belongings and he had need of them, when he set flipper to dry land and shifted back to his human form. And this he did in the next instant, exchanging his sea sleek form for one that went upright and had handy hands. His pack was not completely waterproof, but over time he had worked on it with oils and such and it was crafted of tanned sharkskin, and thus it kept his things fairly dry. He pulled on his clothes, and felt the bite of the winter cold, but not as much as a human would, his internal workings still retaining some vestige of his seal’s insulating properties. With the now almost empty pack slung on his shoulder, he set out, his journey destined to be a short one. For he had exited the Suvan right on the watery doorstep of a city, Alvadas by name. Niello was a stone’s throw from a dock that jutted out into the waves, and there were many more to be seen, stretching along the curve of the natural harbor. There were boats and ships and water craft of all kind tied up along the wooden structures and many more riding at anchor further out. People bustled here and there, and Niello soon found himself walking amongst them, his head turning this way and that, taking in the sights an sounds and smells of the little dockside community. Without plan or purpose, he wandered, stopping frequently to observe some activity or to inspect some item or other. It didn’t take long to find the fish market, and although he wasn’t hungry, he looked avidly at what was on offer, for he had some thought to perhaps tarry awhile in this city, and if so, he’d need a source of income. Fishing was his one and only real skill, and thus he wanted to suss out if he could possibly get himself hired on as a fisherman. Not the type that went out on a boat and used a net, but one that could dive down into the harbor waters and bring up the mollusks and crustaceans that humans so loved – crabs and clams and mussels and lobsters and such like. Well, the search for a job could wait. For the moment, he was more interested in learning about the place itself. A bit further on, he came across a man with a barrow selling bits and pieces, odds and ends, and Niello’s fingers, almost of their own accord, stretched out to pluck up a bracelet made of crudely fashioned beads of red coral, strung together on a thread. He held it up, examining it and trying to place where he had seen such hardened skeletons of the shallows, while the vendor kept a sharp eye on him. No doubt the man was wary of the boy trying to wander off with his goods without paying. Niello, unconcerned, bent and, slipping his foot out of his boot, fastened the thing about his right ankle. He twisted his foot about, admiring the look, while the man chewed on his mustache, apparently torn between making some flattering comment, in order to make a sale, and demanding that the boy, who looked like one not possessed of great riches, take the thing off and put it back on the barrow and be gone. In the end, he settled for, “That’s a fine piece, that is. Won’t find another like it in the whole city.” He licked his lips and stared at the boy, then added, “It’s an expensive piece too. So if you don’t think you’ll be handing over a lot of coin for it, I’d appreciate it if you’d take it off and put it back.” Niello looked at the man and said matter of factly, “This coral is common. I’ve seen acres of it.” Still, he undid the fastener and straightened and handed it over carefully. “Whoever told you it was rare was a fool,” he added, naively missing the point that the portrayal as the coral being something special was merely for the purpose of jacking up the price, and invented by the seller himself. The man glared at him, and snatched the piece away and laid it with exaggerated care back on the barrow. “Well, if there’s acres of it, I suppose you’d do well to take a saw and go collect it all and turn it into jewelry and make yourself a fortune, aye lad?” He scoffed and turned away, as Niello shrugged and looked perplexed. Oh well. He himself turned, only to come face to face with a boy who appeared close to his own age, but whose head was as red as a flame, as much as Niello’s was white as the snow. Fire and ice, it made an aethestically pleasing contrast. Niello’s expression was one of awed curiosity and he actually began to stretch out his hand, to touch those flaming locks, drawn to them like a moth to a candle. The other boy’s hair was almost the same shade as the coral beads. “Where did you get this?” he asked, his question as always a product of the simplicity of his thought processes, his fingers almost on a stray strand of bright crimson.

[Phobius]

Phobius stood outside of the Tattered Thread, his face pressed up against one of its windows as he gazed longingly inside. He'd been there for a few chimes, now, having fallen into a heated, internal argument with himself that seemed to have no end.

A part of him insisted that he go in. There'd been plenty of times when he'd passed by the store, both while he was doing his job and wasn't, but he'd never actually walked through its doors, before. Now that he had a glimpse of the inside, he could see the rows upon rows of brilliant colors, all of different sizes, shapes, and shades. There were shirts and pants and jackets, and scarves and sashes covered in intricate patterns...it was all just so tempting.

At the same time, however, another part of him urged him to keep going. He'd promised Kuvarakh that he'd be careful with his money, and that meant not spending it on unnecessary stuff, like clothes. Phobius never really bought things for himself, save for food and paying for rent...and besides, he was already wearing clothes. He didn't really...need anymore, did he?

...did he?

Suddenly, a well-dressed man came into view, walking out from behind a line of lengthy dresses. With a little hand gesture he beckoned the boy inside, and Phobius, startled, shrank away from the window. Okay...maybe...maybe I'll just buy one thing, he told himself, pressing his back up against the store's whitewashed walls. Nothing expensive. Just a nice, simple thing.

It didn't take long for him to convince himself. A moment later, he was inside and practically running through the makeshift aisles, a patient-looking Mister Skyglow on standby a few feet away from him. The man had told him to take his time and pick what he liked best, and once Phobius gave it some thought he flocked over to where the shirts were gathered. Pale fingers trailed delicately over each and every strip of fabric, testing their feel against his skin, and he pulled things out and held them in front of his face to get a better look. In the end, he settled on a doublet; it was a shade of red that was deeper than his hair, and small enough to fit his lithe frame, with golden buttons and long, poofy white sleeves.

With some encouraging words from the shop's owner, Phobius decided to buy it, plopping the three mizas into the man's hand before he thanked him and all but skipped out the door. It'd been a relatively cheap purchase, but the boy was already certain that he'd be saving the shirt for special occasions. If he wore it all the time, it'd get worn out.

I should go and put it in my room, he mused, already turning on his heels to head back the way he'd came. The general direction, at least.

Then his attention shifted, and he caught sight of a stand that was a short distance away. It looked like it had some interesting knick-knacks for sale. Curious, Phobius held his new shirt at his side as he wandered over, his eyes scanning the pretty pieces of jewelry and little figurines.

“Where did you get this?”

Phobius didn't know whether or not he was being spoken to, but he raised his head when he heard the voice. And he found himself staring at an unfamiliar, albeit curious face, belonging to a boy who had the whitest hair he'd ever seen. Whiter than the Tattered Thread's walls.

Did he dye it, or was that how it naturally looked?

For a moment, Phobius couldn't bring his eyes away from it, completely quiet as he continued to stare. Eventually he noticed that the boy was reaching for his head, and refocused on his face, with a warm smile growing on his own. "My hair, you mean? It's always been like this," he replied, patting himself on the head. "All Inartans have red hair, but it's not always as red as mine is...sometimes it can be really light, or a really dark red. And sometimes it's not red at all. ...oh, you can touch it if you want."

The boy paused for a few ticks. He'd never seen this person, before, so they were probably new to the city. That made two new people in five days. And more new people meant more new friends.

"My name's Phobius, by the way," he continued, still smiling as he outstretched a free hand. "What's yours? And how come your hair's so...white? It makes me think of snow. I like it!"

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Niello]

As the other boy spoke, Niello’s hand stopped in mid-reach, but he did not lower it. He listened, his gaze shifting momentarily from the bright thatch of red to the pale face of its owner. But with the permission quickly granted – one which, in truth, Niello probably would not have waited for if the boy hadn’t spoken up – his fingers touched a wild lock. Softly stroking it, holding it between two fingers and his thumb, he then pulled his hand away, examining his fingertips, almost as if he believed the brilliant color would have attached itself to his own milky skin, despite the boy’s explanation that it was simply his born hair color. “Inarta? I thought they were bird people?” Niello asked in his curious tone, his head bobbing a bit as he inspected the red head. “You don’t look like a bird. Where are your feathers?” In Syliras, he had heard the term that described the people of the volcano, but he’d never met one, that he knew of. In his mind, what little he had heard was jumbled together, and talk of wind eagles had somehow mutated to this concept of creatures that were half human, half bird. But he smiled none-the-less, for the boy, Phobius, was smiling too, and Niello was typically a happy and easy going fellow. He took the extended hand and shook it, as humans do, and replied finally, “I’m Niello. And I don’t know why my hair is white. It just is.” His hand reached again for another pat to Phobius’ hair, and his smile broadened into a wide grin. “I like your red. It makes me think of fire.” Onyx eyes coming back to those of gold, he asked, “Do you live here?” before they dipped to the carefully folded material under the boy’s arm and he added, “What’s that?” poking at the new shirt with his finger.

[Phobius]

Phobius watched the boy's hand move, though he found his gaze occasionally flicking over to his face to see his expression. Since coming to the city, the young Inarta had grown used to people marveling at his hair; apparently, Inartans were a rare sight outside of Wind Reach, which made their crimson-streaked heads even rarer. And he had no problems with people staring or asking him questions. This was the first time, however, that someone had actually ventured to touch his hair, and the look on the boy's face was one of pure wonder.

After a while he stopped, having convinced himself that the red wouldn't rub off on his fingers, and asked something strange. Stumped, Phobius had to think his words over for a moment, trying hard to make sense of them and figure out what he meant. And then he laughed; it started out as a stifled giggle, but before he could slap a hand over his mouth it was full-out, shoulder-shaking laughter. He'd never been compared to a bird, before.

"We aren't bird people," the boy said once he'd quieted down a little, sounding as though it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. In all honesty, it kinda was. "Some of us ride giant eagles, though, and we do like birds a lot. I even have a bird friend!"

An unnamed friend, at that. Ever since he'd found the lonely falcon chick in the city's surrounding forests, he'd been racking his brains for the perfect name for her, but nothing had come up. That was an issue for later, though.

His head was suddenly patted, and Niello said that the red made him think of fire, a comparison that Phobius had heard a few times since leaving his home. Then there were a few more questions tossed his way, but they were easy to answer. "Yeah! Well, kinda. I came here a few seasons ago," the boy replied. "It's a really fun place...oh, and this is a shirt I just bought."

Wanting to show him, Phobius unfolded the doublet and held it up for the boy to see.

"The buttons are really nice, but I like the color the best. It reminds me of...well, my hair, I guess. Haha!"

He kept it up for a little while longer, then offered it to Niello in case he felt like holding it and inspecting it, himself. "Did you just get here? I don't think I've ever seen you around, before...where're you from? Is it a really cold place? Warm? How come you left...?"

Normally, Phobius was a bit more reserved with his questions, but his new friend's curiosity was fueling his own, so he couldn't help but ask as many as he could.

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Niello]

Phobius laughed, a merry, happy sound – not a snide or disdainful thing as some people seemed to favor, especially in their dealing with the kelvic, who, like many of his kind, had a very straightforward way about him, lacking in any recognition or use of subtly or sarcasm. And Niello laughed too, just because he enjoyed being merry. The two might have drawn a few looks from those near by, but Niello, for his part, was oblivious to any sidelong glances sent his way. It seemed he’d gotten mixed up somewhere along the way, and Phobius’ reply wasn’t really untangling the knot in his brain any, but he said nothing more about the nature of Inartans, for the moment. Oh, surely, it would come, along with a million more questions. For now, though, his attention had been diverted by the colorful shirt, and those amazing buttons that he saw when the redhead held the garment up for his inspection. Indeed, just as with the other boy’s hair, Niello reached out and ran his fingers over the golden shine, playing with them and finding them delightful. “It is like your hair! And these are amazing! Like jewelry for your clothes.” He looked at Phobius, smiling. “I did. I just now arrived, from the water.” He turned his head and nodded in the direction of the harbor. “I wanted to see what it was like here. I heard the houses move. I want to see if that is true. I was born in Syliras, but I left. To see the world. I suppose it’s getting cold there now, like here. It’s not much further north. But I don’t mind the cold.” He spoke in little, excited bursts, giving tongue to his bouncing thoughts, which sometimes resulted in quite random sequences of ideas. This exchange hadn’t been quite so scattered as some, so far anyway. “Do you have an eagle?” he asked, eagerly, looking about as if there might be one standing right behind Phobius. “It must be very large, if you can ride on it. What is your bird-friend’s name? Can I meet him? Or is it a girl bird?” It was rather like a torrent of words, and in mid-stream he switched directions. “Why did you leave your volcano? Was it too warm? Do you like the cold?”

[Phobius]

It was fairly easy for Phobius to like people; there were positive qualities in everyone, and he was always quick to pick out the ones that he thought were the best, no matter how small or otherwise unnoticeable. It was these small things that stood out to him, now, leading him to decide that Niello would make a great friend; he liked how his eyes seemed to light up when he smiled, and he liked how nearly everything was new and interesting to him. The questions were a bit overwhelming, being thrown out into the open one after the other, but Phobius liked those, too.

Syliras was pretty far away. The Inartan boy had never been there, before—the lands beyond Kalea were foreign to him—but he'd heard people talk about how huge and busy it was. When Niello gestured to the harbor behind them, Phobius tilted his head and looked over his shoulder at it, his eyes searching the somewhat-calm waters. Where was the boy's boat? He couldn't have swam all the way here...could he?

Suddenly, the boy was talking about birds. Phobius tried to talk a few times, but ended up waiting for him to finish, nearly bowled over by the endless surge of words.

"No, I don't have an eagle. Only really special people in Wind Reach get to ride eagles, and they're really, really big," he began to explain, the shirt clutched in one hand as he held his arms out to show just how big they were. "A little bigger than this. I've always wanted to ride on one, and I've seen a few up close, before, but that's about it. Oh, and my bird-friend...she's a she, and she...doesn't really have a name yet."

Phobius' smile softened a bit at this, and he looked a little embarrassed, but he kept talking. "I haven't thought up a name. It's really hard, for some reason...she's cute and likes people, though, so if you want, you can meet her. And...my volcano...? ...oh! I like when it's warm, and I like the cold, too, but I didn't leave because of the weather. I..."

And then he paused, his cheery expression faltering some more.

"I didn't wanna be there, anymore. So I left," he said after a few ticks. The questions had finally hit on an unpleasant topic, but Phobius wasn't about to dwell on it, choosing instead to switch to something else and pick himself up. "Hey, I've got an idea! We can go and see my birdie, and if you don't have a place to stay, you could get a room at the inn I'm in. I don't have a house, but I pay to stay in a room. And they're all nice and cozy...I bet you'll really like them. And then...and then we could uhh...umm...do something fun. Like go exploring. It's your first time here, so why not?"


"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Niello]

To be honest, Niello was slightly disappointed that Phobius didn’t have an eagle that they could go take a spin on. His curiosity lent itself to a keen imagination, albeit a rudimentary one, that latched onto things known and extrapolated from there. So whereas he wouldn’t be conjuring up some mythical beast out of thin air to amuse himself with a mental tale, the redhead’s talk of riding on a wind eagle certainly was enough for the Kelvic to practically feel the rush of wind against his cheek as they soared over the land and sea below. He’d often enough watched birds in flight. Most had been squawking, squabbling gulls, and he’d not want to be one of those mean spirited, petty, thieving rogues. But a huge bird of prey, that might be amazing - to soar and dip on the air just as easily as he himself navigated the watery depths and shallows. Funnily enough, given his own race, he might as easily come out an albatross as a harp seal. But no, the world of water was his to command, not the heavens above him. He was content with that. It still would have been fantastic to go for a ride on Phobius’ wind eagle that he didn’t actually have, though. Mention of the young, female bird, however, derailed his minor disappointment, and Niello was quickly distracted by the thought of visiting this place that the other boy called home now, and meeting the birdie. If anything about Phobius’ speech or demeanor signaled that the Inartan boy was slower than some or lacking in mental agility, this was totally lost on Niello – except perhaps as such being something of a plus. Not that the Kelvic would have recognized it for what it was. He simply found interacting with Phobius to be very pleasant. The other boy seemed friendly and guiless, lacking in any subtly or subterfuge of nature, and that appealed to Niello for it mirrored his own personality. In a word, Phobius’ personality resonated with his own and he felt very comfortable with him already. Typically, Niello was not shy, bashful or reticent. Yet it wasn’t uncommon for him to encounter someone who was far too brusque for his liking, or too loud or too full of themselves, or sometimes downright hostile or aggressive or just plain mean. In those cases, he separated company as quickly as he could without a backwards glance. He didn’t like to be around awful people, no matter what he might potentially gain from the situation. He was a very social creature, but he sought out jolly companions, not the negative, furtive or sly. So in Phobius, he’d had the good stroke of luck to light upon a kindred spirit, as it were, right off the bat, in this new city. And the prospect of getting to meet Phobius’ animal friend was the sort of invitation that Niello was bound to accept, readily. The momentary drop in the redhead’s expression, and tone, when he said he’d left his volcano because he didn’t want to be there, did not pass unnoted by the Kelvic, who was very in tune with body language and nonverbal cues, as most social animals are. But it was his nature to be quickly diverted from one topic to another, his mind leaping and bounding here and there, and the invitation was enough to forestall further inquiry about just what Phobius didn’t like about his warm volcano. That might come up later, for Niello did have a good memory. However, he was by this point rapidly nodding his head enthusiastically, his expression bright and he replied, “That sounds good! I’ll need a place to stay, I guess, though I could just sleep in the harbor. But it might be fun if we lived in the same place, right? Then we could get to be friends and have adventures? I love adventures. I’ve heard this city is quite dangerous. That makes it even more exciting.” The two had begun walking, falling in step together, though Phobius was obviously the captain of their two man expedition to find this inn he spoke of. Niello looked about eagerly, wondering if he’d catch one of the buildings actually up and moving as they walked along. He wondered too how he would find his way about the place if the buildings and streets were so sneaky. He had some skill in navigating the waters of the Suvan, but this was another matter entirely. “How do you manage to get around?” he asked curiously. “I hear the streets and buildings move about a lot. I suppose a map would be of no use. A wind eagle would be, though. You could ride on it and look down and find your lodgings that way. Or wherever you were heading. It’s a pity you don’t have one. What kind of bird is your friend? She has a name you know – you probably just don’t know how to ask her what it is, because you are human.” He paused and gave Phobius a quizzical look. “You are human, right? Or are the volcano people something else entirely? Perhaps your hair is so red because it’s made of fire, really.” The curious boy reached out and touched a flaming lock again, and then shook his head. “But it’s not even warm, so maybe not. Or….maybe it’s locked away, the fire – by magic. Can you do magic?” That last thought seemed to have just suddenly tied in to Phobius’ presence in Alvadas, as Niello postulated, “Is that why you didn’t like your volcano? Because there was no magic there?” He tilted his head, observing Phobius as they walked along. “I’d love to see magic. It wasn’t allowed in Syliras. They thought it was evil. Do you know, is magic evil?”

[Phobius]

The comment about sleeping in the harbor didn't go unnoticed, and Phobius was curious about what the boy meant, but he chose not to ask about it. Niello seemed to really like the idea of staying at the inn, and he was right...it would be fun to live in the same place. The Inartan boy had always wished that one of his friends would come to live near him, but most of them already had their own homes, so it made no sense that they'd rent a room. It could be lonely, at times; he was surrounded by people, and the one's he'd met were admittedly nice, but he didn't know any of them that well. Having a friend nearby meant that there'd always be someone to go on walks with, or eat with, or talk with when he felt like talking about something. He'd never be lonely, again. It was a dream come true!

Talk of adventuring only made him more excited for everything, and it seemed like their first official adventure would be tracking the inn down. Phobius had a general idea of where they were, but getting there was left up to the city. Still, he tried as best as he could to lead his new friend in the right direction, looking around corners and peering down alleyways. When Niello asked him how he was able to get anywhere, he laughed a little. "I run around the city a lot, 'cause I deliver messages to people, so I'm kinda used to the streets moving and everything. It can be confusing, but after you're here for a while it's not so bad. And my birdie-friend...? She's...what was it...I had talked to a merchant-man when I found her, and I think he told me that she was a...a kestrel. They're like smallish falcons. She's just a baby, though, so she can't fly yet or get her own food."

The prospect of the bird already having a name was new to Phobius, and he wasn't sure what to say to it, blinking at the other boy as he continued to talk. Animals had their own ways of talking to one another, but he'd never considered that it could be an entire language; now that Niello brought it up, however, he could see it being true.

“You are human, right?" the other boy asked, looking at him as though he was searching for those feathers he'd been told about, again, the ones that all Inartans apparently had. It was yet another question that Phobius had never been asked, before, and he hesitated as he thought up an answer. "...I think I'm human. At least, I'm pretty sure I am. I look like one."

It was certainly something to think about. He'd lived his whole life thinking that he was a human, but only because he felt that he looked like other humans. What was it that made a person a human, anyway? For all he knew, Inartans were creatures that could turn into humans whenever they wanted to, as a sort of disguise. Or maybe—

And then they were talking about magic.

Magic isn't allowed in Syliras...? The boy mused, the information coming as a surprise to him. Were people not allowed to use it, or was studying it from books bad, too? What happened if a person decided to use magic, anyway? Would they be sent to jail? Forced to pay money...?

"That's weird..." Phobius replied. "I can't do any magic, but I've heard stories about it, before. It sounds really interesting. I dunno why someone would think that it was evil...I know there's all sorts of magic, and that some kinds can be used to hurt people, but...no, I don't think magic's evil. I don't think anything's evil."

He was quiet for a few ticks before an idea came to him. "Hey," he began, sounding curious. "If you could have any magic power in the whole world, what do you think it would be...? I think...I think I'd want to be able to talk to animals. Birds, fish, bugs...I'd wanna talk to all of them. I bet they tell really good stories."

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Niello]

Niello’s head swiveled about back and forth as they walked, taking in the sights, on the look out for straying buildings, and he listened to Phobius’ replies, as the flame haired youth finally managed to get a word in edgewise. Niello didn’t mean to highjack conversations with his multitude of questions and often random thoughts. It was just his way and he’d never been taught otherwise. Being Kelvic, he’d been left to his own devices for the most part. If he did what tasks were assigned to him, his parents’ master was satisfied, and had little to do with him. Then he’d gone to work fishing for another master, and that one too wasn’t bothered by the boy’s nattering on and on, for the most part, Niello was in the water. Some Kelvics were more apt to learn and abide by human standards of behavior, or whatever the mores of the race of those they associated with most demanded. Others might be far more animalistic, even in their human form, due to lack of exposure and teaching, or simply by their nature. Niello was somewhere in between. Growing up in a populous city such as Syliras, surrounded by thousands of humans, and those of other races, he could almost not be more like those he came into contact with. Yet not belonging to anyone, really, nor bonded, no-one had seen fit to teach him fine manners or that he shouldn’t blab on and on and on. But when Phobius in turn posed a question, and one which called for the use of imagination, Niello was quiet enough, for a few moments. Considering Phobius’ choice of a magical ability, he finally nodded, albeit slowly. “That would be handy. Some would know such things. Some have very long memories, even the tales of their ancestors. Others have very little to say, except for where there is food or shelter or come let’s make some babies together. But the tales I have heard, from some of the seals, go back many, many generations, for they are passed from mother to child, “in the milk” as they say.” He paused and had a speculative look on his face, then went on. “I think I’d like to fly. Is that a magic thing? I mean, birds can fly, but I don’t know if that is because they are magic or not. But flying would be quite handy, because then I really could see all of the world. I could fly from the Northern Wastes down to Falyndar, and across to Eyktol and out to Mura!” His tone grew in excitement as he spoke, envisioning in his mind’s eye this amazing journey through the skies of the world. “I could visit your volcano, and see all the other people with fire colored hair! And go to the Ghost Island, and see the home of the big, blue men! And I would be safe because if there was any danger, I could just fly away!” Niello, for all his being frequently in animal form himself, and having experienced the very real dangers of the seas, seemed to be totally discounting the many perils his feathered kinsmen had to face each and every day of their existence. But in his enthusiasm for this fantasy expedition, he saw only the plus side of having wings and a beak. He turned to look at Phobius, his face joyful. “I could be a wind eagle, and you could fly on my back! We could see the world together! Wouldn’t that be fun? Now that would be a real adventure!” He laughed, and in his mind it seemed possible. Black eyes glinting, he asked excitedly, “Do you know any magicians, Phobius? Maybe we could find one who could turn me into such a bird!”

[Phobius]

As talkative as the snow-haired boy had been, it seemed as though the question had stumped him, if only for a moment. Phobius was quiet as he let him think it over, eagerly awaiting whatever answer he came up with. When Niello finally spoke, the boy found himself listening carefully to each and every word; he sounded pretty sure of himself, as if he knew for a fact what kinds of things animals liked to talk about. And he said that he'd heard tales from seals...could he maybe talk to animals?

To the boy, it sounded like a very real possibility. Why else would he know so much about them? That he'd just befriended a Kelvic hadn't occurred to him, yet, and it most likely never would; Phobius knew nothing about the race of people who lived half of their lives as animals, having never been told stories about them in Wind Reach or taught about them in school. The word "Kelvic" didn't even exist in his vocabulary. And while Niello had been giving some not-so-subtle hints pertaining to his identity during their entire, sporadic conversation, whether intentionally or not, the Inartan boy wasn't able to catch them, seeing nothing strange or out of the ordinary about this newcomer to the city. Apart from his hair, of course. As far as he was concerned, the boy was just that; a boy.

Phobius was curious, now, but chose to wait until after he'd finished speaking to even attempt some more questions. The other boy started to go on about how he'd want to fly like a bird, and travel to distant regions and cities to see all of the interesting sights. He smiled as he listened, again fascinated with how cheerful his new friend was. Being a bird sounded like the best thing in the world, to be honest; Phobius had always admired the Wind Eagles back home, and would spend many a day pretending to run around as one, with his little arms as wings and imaginary gusts of wind buffeting his imaginary feathers. He wanted to soar above the clouds like they did, to see all of the amazing things that they got to see.

Niello brought up becoming a Wind Eagle, himself, and the Inartan boy let out a giggle, the idea bringing a funny image to his mind. "You'd have white feathers all over you, I bet. I don't know any magicians, though...well, there's Kuvarakh, but I don't think he does magic...or he does, but it's a funny-kind of magic. Alchemy, I think? I don't know that much about it 'cause I've never asked him to tell me what it was or anything. Anyway, flying sounds like it'd be tons of fun. I always kind of wanted to travel, too, but Alvadas is as far as I've gotten, and there's just so much stuff out there. If I went by myself, I'd probably get lost."

Then Phobius tilted his head at the boy, his initial curiosities coming back to him.

"Can you talk to animals, Niello? And understand what things they say and stuff?"



"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.