Closed to Nicolette.
It was a bitterly cold Salvarian winter’s day, but Shinsou wasn’t at all fazed by it. In fact, he seemed to rather enjoy it. The chill of the snowflakes brushing his cheeks and the beauty of the deep blue sea basked in the whites of winter was something he appreciated in that moment, an image he would gladly hold on to after the struggle of the last few months. Why? Because Osiris reasoned he would like to leave Salvar on a high note. He had spent the last year embroiled in a personal, poisonous vendetta against a slaver ring. He had met and freed the slave girl Amari. He had trained with the spirit in his sword, Shira, and tapped into new powers, albeit magic he was still in the process of mastering. He had reunited with the faun Philomel, his friend, rather unexpectedly. He had met his father, Telos Soltair, who had warned him about the Council of Five.

Life here wasn’t boring.

It had been an experience for the young Telgradian, but Shinsou was ready to go home, back to Corone.

Back to his house, back to the Brotherhood, back to training with Philomel and getting lectured by John Cromwell, back to drinking whisky with Storm Veritas in some dingy back-alley bar and back to waiting for the rest of the Council of Five to try and kill him.

Back to normality, really.

Normality? He wondered what that even was for him anymore as he paced the snowy path towards the port and then through a handful of dock workers to the end of pier number four. The memories that lingered in the depths of his mind of his crusade against the slavers and his rescue of Amari obscured the concept. Compared to the life he’d been living here, the people he had saved and the achievements he had accomplished, his life back on Corone didn’t matter anymore. There was little that would allow him to be with the people he loved. Only the Brotherhood could. That’s why the Brotherhood mattered and it was the only reason he wanted to leave Salvar in the first place.

“What will you do when you get back to Corone?” Philomel Van der Aart asked the slim man ahead of her, keeping her eyes on the icy water below her feet. She was sitting on the edge of a pier where a large ship was moored, her furry legs swaying below her. The faun had insisted on seeing him to the boat, something Osiris was grateful for. Veridian, her spirit-fox companion, sat in her lap staring endlessly out to see. The vessel bobbing next to them had seen better days, and judging by the state of the wood and the wear on the moorings, it had seen its share of action during its service, but it was solid and enough for Shinsou to get to Scara Brae on.

“I don’t know. I’ll probably train with Cromwell for a bit until you get back. Maybe then we can have a proper drink.” Shinsou replied, pausing for a couple of seconds to look towards the faun. Her expression warmed him and Osiris knew that he would miss her until she got back to the island. Though he couldn’t say it to her face, he could say it now to himself without a shadow of a doubt in his mind. He adored the faun and Shinsou hated to be away from her.

“A proper drink? Will the Brotherhood be paying?” she inquired again, this time turning and smiling over her shoulder. It was a look only Philomel could perfect, a glance that made her grey eyes sparkle gently and a smile that lit up her face. Shinsou repositioned his swords around his waist and smiled heartily at her question.

“What’s the point in being the co-leader of an organisation like that if you can’t flaunt some of the treasury once in a while? Besides, I’m not letting Storm drink, gamble or fuck the rest of our money out of the door on his own.”

Philomel managed a giggle at his rather partisan humour.

“Good. So you’re paying. That’s all I needed!”

The Faun concluded with a grin, turning her head back to the freezing water below and stroking Veridian’s head tenderly.

“Last call to Scara Brae! All passengers make your way to the loading ramp!”

The cold fingers of the bitter winds swept themselves through the faun’s tumbling hair, but it wasn’t that which caused her to wince. That call meant Shinsou would disappear again for weeks. Philomel pouted in an almost childish way as Shinsou grabbed his luggage from the wooden planked floor and slung it over his shoulder. Chuckling to himself, the Telgradian shook his head.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be back in Corone before you know it. First round is on the Brotherhood when you get home.” Shinsou added before he stepped towards the ledge and joined a line of people queuing to be added to the manifest. “Also, take care of Amari, ok?” he continued in a much more serious tone. She lifted her head upwards and looked at his face as the Telgradian ascended the ramp and disappeared onto the great deck of the good ship Khaia.

I’ll be thinking of you both.