A cold night on the pier.

[Aki]

Aki sat alone, his slender form planted firmly on the edge of a dock overlooking the sea. The weather was cold, and he was dressed accordingly. A thick, long blue coat buttoned over a pale gray wool sweater. Easily distinguished as someone waiting or the local tavern to open, or just some idiot wasting his time. Shaking his head lightly, he reached up, placing an unlabeled white cylinder between his lips,a slight puff of air traveling through the cylinder fueling the end of it with a tug of psionics, the tip sizzling in protest as it’s scintillating embers pushed out against the darkness.

Letting his arms fall slack at his side, he exhaled a gout of smoke, watching lethargically as the gray cloud disappeared into the night sky. He had come here as a favor. To see an old friend. It had been ages since he had last seen him, and naturally he felt obliged to respond to his request. He at least owed him that much.

He pushed off from the cobblestone wall at his rear, walking forward at a lazy pace until he stopped at the edge of the dock, resting his arms upon the wooden railing as he drew his cigarette out slowly. “Beautiful night..” He muttered under his breath, his almond gaze locked onto the beaming object above. “Couldn’t have chose a better one.”

Kabalevsky. Symphony No. 3

He hummed the tune lightly as footsteps sounded lightly at his rear. Turning, he trailed his almond gaze down the pier, watching defiantly down it’s length at the silhouetted form of another. Coiling his thin fingers around the cigarette between his lips, he took another drag, and discarded the still burning cylinder, stepping on it, snuffing out the remaining embers with the heel of his boot.

His contact had arrived.

“Nero. Nice to see you again. Beautiful night, isn’t it?

[Nero]

For the majority of a superficial and prolonged seven years, Nero had figured Aki for dead, or some other misfortune not worth delving into. In all honesty, the man had a knack for putting himself, and Nero, in the most belligerent situations. So the thought of an ill-fate clutching Aki in it's wirey grasp wasn’t too profound in his opinion. However, with a remote and unexpected fortuitous event occurring while in Concordia, Nero’s ears fell heavy on the slightest mention of name. From there, interest peaked, Nero wasted little time in tracking down the vagabond.

The rest, they would say, is history.

Quiescent, Nero snaked through cockeyed back streets in the lower slums of Radasanth before finally leaking into the Harbor district. The Lycan wasn’t too concerned with the company he might have attracted per contra, but the off seasoned chanced that he might have invited the wrong man, or worse, him being correct and his childhood comrade refusing to show was gut wrenching. Lethargically, Nero sauntered across the bay, hazel orbs leafing through each object as it stuck out at him in anticipation before finally resting on a silhouette perched at the bow of the pier. Nero chuckled to himself, kicking a more confident grace in his stride as booted feet thumped at the wooden walkway.

“Nero. Nice to see you again. Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Stopped short of Aki, Nero’s face crumpled, manifesting a façade reminiscent of a bad smell. Jerking his head back slightly, Nero batted at his face in an attempt to distort the plume of cigarette smoke from his nostrils.

“Yeah, s’pose it could be worse,” he replied, lightly coughing. “Though I could do without that awful smell.” Nero mused with a small laugh.

Rolling on his heels, the youth rested his palms against the rail behind him before pushing up with a short hop and sitting his rear end on the banister with a thud. Shrugging, Nero glanced in the opposite direction, listening to the evanescing wash of the bay. He pulled the mesh of his fur tightly around him, feeling cold as the winds blew in the scent of fish and salt. God how he hated the anima that was the sea.

“Well,” he constrictingly spoke, eyes adrift in the starry sky. “when life gives you lemons.” Nero fleetly added, reverting his line of sight back towards Aki from a slightly elevated posture. It would have taken a couple seconds for the ice to be broken, but Nero couldn’t contain himself and exhorted a slight laugh as he playfully punched at his older companion’s shoulder.

[Aki]

Aki shrugged, shaking his head lightly. “I can’t stay here too long, I have to get back to the Arcanum..” He plucked another cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. “ ..But it was good seeing you.” Walking forward, he fortified his grasp on the railing of the dock, looking outwards at the ocean blue. “I have a lot of business to attend to. Plus it’s not safe here for me.”

The outcome had been decided.

Reaching up, he pressed his finger to the cigarette hanging loosely from his parched lips, the tobacco sizzling in protest as a jolt of psionics kindled the peak. Inhaling lightly, he ushered out a rill of smoke, aimed away from Nero as to not upset him. He hadn’t seen his old friend in so long. Hadn’t even heard of him, and now he shows up. Funny.

Yeah Funny..

Looking upwards, Aki savored the night for a moment. Taking another drag from his cigarette as he peered boldly at the beaming object in the sky. He needed to do this more often. But it was hard to go in public nowdays. The day after Kaij died. Inside he wished it wasn't so, he never wanted to lead anything, he wasn't good enough. Not good enough to take on Kaij's legacy.

Back to Nero..


“It’s going to rain soon...” Aki murmured, tasting the bitter cigarette smoke on his tongue. He emanated an over exaggerated sigh, dragging his lazy gaze to the ocean once again. What to do. Looking back at Nero, he hesitated a moment before speaking. “I have to go… Maybe I will see you around.”

…..

“Actually, I could use a nice walk. Come with?” Aki asked in all seriousness.

[Osato]

It was like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Osato was cold, wet, and tired. Through the dark streets of Radasanth he moved at a pace somewhere between a walk and a shamble. His feet dragged across the stone, the blackened steel gaiters clicking against the rough surface. It was not like the young sell-sword to be so downcast but things on Althanas were quickly turning for the worse. People had seemed well at first, but the sanity of some had slipped before his very eyes. Though he had been enthused by the idea of adventure and the promise of change things had gone wrong.

His hands slipped across his tattered shirt, its frayed edges showing the small cuts along his chest. It had been a rough day, filled with fights, though they were much more dangerous then Osato had been willing to engage in. Magic had been the cause of his wounds, magic cast by a curious mage.

~+|+~
“Child, you don’t know what you truly are capable of!” The man’s voice had been pounding through Osato’s head. He had called to him multiple times, each time another spell had been wrought and the young soulless entity had been the brunt of each. His innate abilities had started the fight, the mage’s first spell being one of an empathetic nature in an attempt to trick the young man. But it had not worked.

The soulless being, having no element for the mage to wield against him, had not been affected. Enraged, the mage had begun his assault. In the middle of the street, with guards and people of all sorts around him, the insane wizard had attacked. Osato was not one to back down though, and had immediately drawn his weapon and begun to counterattack.

“You are not a magician boy, you are no match for spells!”

He was right and Osato knew it. There was very little he could do against such an opponent, especially when he was casting from a distance. Every time the boy rushed a wall of solid air was erected. Each time someone chanced to interfere they were frozen in place, or thrown viciously away from the fray. Citizens and watch alike kept their distance, waiting for one or the other to finally come out ahead.

After minutes of fighting the soulless being had fled. It was his only hope. He had run away as quickly as he could, leaving the mage behind. Osato was hoping for some help, any help, from anyone that had seen or was in his path. But no help had come, the humans of Radasanth were no more then cowards, and Osato had finally found it out the hard way.

Battered and bloodied the young sell-sword had run away, clutching his black coat closed around his cold body. The night was promising even less then the day and Osato had not been looking forward to it either.
~+|+~

Somehow, no matter how much he moved around or tried to escape Osato always found himself back by the water. He had grown up by the ocean, living on an island off the Corone coast, Yerria. The island had been a burden. The seas were turbulent despite the calm night sky. Behind him the young man could see the lights of Radasanth giving off their alluring glow, casting light to drown out the stars overhead. Along the docks the stars were alight though, far less lights fighting for dominance against the darkness of night.

Osato could see the clouds lazily drifting towards the town. It would rain soon, the clouds were moving quickly. The wave’s lapping against the shore spoke of a downpour coming soon, a real heavy thunderstorm. The sell-sword drifted unenergetically towards one of the many piers, his deep blue eyes having spotted a couple of people. Perhaps someone to talk to would relieve the depression he was feeling. Perhaps people would allow for a distraction from the inevitable.

[Letho]

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