Let Them Sing
EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
Level completed: 18%,
EXP required for next Level: 14,892
Our power is made perfect in weakness (closed to Flamebird)
It was a bitterly cold winter's day in Tylmerande, 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 for Raiaera on a high note. He had spent the last year fighting just about every bastard on the continent. He had spent the last year embroiled in a personal, poisonous vendetta against Arius Mephisto that had drained him emotionally and physically. He had been shot.
Life here wasn’t boring, ever.
Now, he was taking his apprentice Felicity Rhyolite to the land of magic itself, Raiaera, to train in the relative anonymity, peace and quiet the country could afford them. Back to basics, without Whitevale's eyes on them, and somewhere where Felicity herself could find some respite from the pressures of command and her own demons.
Back to some sort of 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 Radasanth and his vendetta against Arius obscured the concept. There was little that would allow him to be with the people he loved, which were few and far between. Ironically, only the Brotherhood could. That’s why the Brotherhood mattered, but for the first time and it wasn't the only reason he wanted to leave Corone for the land of the elves.
“What will you do when you get to Raiaera?†Raine, his loyal bodyguard, 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 legs swaying below her. The former Gilded Quint member had insisted on seeing him to the boat, something Osiris had said was not necessary. The caravel 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 and his apprentice to get to Raiaera on.
“Training, mostly. I think it'll do us some good to be away from here for a while. Maybe when we get back, we can have a proper drink.†Shinsou replied, pausing for a couple of seconds to look towards the woman. Her expression warmed him and Osiris knew that he would miss her until he 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 his charge 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 Raine 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 get into some of that 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.â€
Raine managed a giggle at his rather partisan humour.
“Good. So you’re paying. That’s all I needed!â€
The bodyguard concluded with a grin, turning her head back to the freezing water below.
“Last call to Kirann'at! All passengers make your way to the loading ramp!â€
The cold fingers of the bitter winds swept themselves through the Raine's tumbling red hair, but it wasn’t that which caused her to wince. That call meant Shinsou would disappear again for weeks. She 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. We’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 with Felicity at his side and joined a line of people queuing to be added to the manifest. “Also, take care of Storm, ok? Make sure he doesn't touch anything in my office.†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.
***
It had been years since Shinsou Vaan Osiris had ventured beyond Corone's azure seas. It had been even longer since he had been to the once-broken nation of Raiaera, but as he and Felicity Rhyolite stepped down from the gangplank of the caravel Independent and onto the wooden docks of this small but now thriving coastal township, he was already starting to feel the shackles of reputation and responsibility fall away from him. Here, he was an unknown quantity. The Telgradian and the red-headed Neanderthal could walk relatively free people, able to wander in any manner and direction that pleased them. They could pause for thought at any moment without fear and so, with a heft of his lungs that felt as if he were sighing his sins away, Shinsou took a moment to stand still and take in his new surroundings.
The newest product of the elven renaissance, the coastal port of Kirann'at, was a beautiful place. The sky above the coast was pale blue, with not a single wisp of cloud to be seen on the horizon beyond the Raiaeran seas. In the other direction, the surrounding wooden piers led to a small but well organised dockyard which bore all the hallmarks of having been constructed recently. As Shinsou's eyes gazed beyond the wooden crates, carts and human, elven and animal traffic in the port, they caught the blueish purple hues of newly tiled slate roofs poking up from the central district. There was a steady stream of people heading in both directions through what seemed to be the main road into town, organized like worker ants into two distinct, orderly rows.
"Have you travelled much, Felicity?" Shinsou asked as the pair began to walk in tandem over the slick wooden planks of the moor towards the town. "It has been a while since I last came here; not long after Pode's death. Everything was still pretty raw here. I remember seeing about how bad things had gotten, that Xem'zund and Pode had succeeded where Alerar had failed. They had torn out Raiaera's heart. At that time, it seemed far-fetched that we'd be seeing new towns like this one and smiling people here within a couple of years. It goes to show that much like individuals, nations can also move on, with the right encouragement."
Shinsou and Felicity slalomed between two tall men burdened with sacks of rice and scanned the port for the appropriate route out towards town. The main stretch they eventually travelled down opened up to a wide boulevard, really more of an elongated courtyard that led to a row of inns.
"Which one is ours?" Felicity asked, brushing a hand through her wavy, crimson locks and shouldering a heavy looking travel satchel.
Shinsou chuckled. "I didn't come with one in mind, honestly. I just thought we'd wing it when we got here and see what was available. As long as there is a bed, some good food and at least one decent malt, I'd be happy."
This reply seemed to take the girl aback a little bit, who was unused to her mentor not having a plan in place. He never struck her as the most spontaneous of people. Shinsou's eyes flitted to her, and picking up on the slight reaction, smiled.
"Relax, we're not in Corone now. There's not as much need to plan every little detail or organise things down to the smallest nuance for security. We're here to train, but we might as well enjoy the slack." The Telgradian reminded his apprentice, slinging his own luggage behind his back from his side and eventually pointing to one particular inn with a bluish tint in its masonry. "Is that one ok with you?"
Felicity nodded. "Sure."
The walk down the boulevard towards their chosen respite funnelled Shinsou and Felicity through what appeared to be a row of brand new shops and merchant stalls, and as the pair cast an occasional glance through windows and doorways, the Telgradian made sure to make a mental note of ones that piqued his curiosity. The Raiaeran merchants were shrewd and proud professionals in the fields of magical artefacts, and he could see that some of the stores were filled with magical instruments of uncertain use. It wasn't like the Radasanthian bazaar back home, which would be more likely to be filled with useless tat that caught the eyes of tourists and lined the pockets of the criminals that peddled it. Here, he was more likely to find something useful.
It was only another five minutes until Shinsou and Felicity found themself in front of the inn, which the Telgradian roughly translated as "The Crest of the Moon", or so the engraved sign said. In truth, the Telgradian was quite looking forward to a good rest. The previous night had been quite a trying one, with the choppy seas and a storm depriving them both of precious sleep, and the weariness tugged at him. Magic could only do so much for a body that needed sleep.