It had been a long three weeks, starting with the surprise of Teyne actually coming with him to Rineva. Eilzair had not said anything, though, keeping to himself. It was not truly brooding. Brooding would have been overshadowed with gloom, and that dark shroud had not been slung over his shoulders at that time. Over their travel at sea Eilzair had been practicing his newest epiphanies in the world of magic. Before he had only been able to move small objects by willing them to, like his keys, the two he had. Now he found himself able to slide a chair all the way across his cabin, with just the slightest gesture and thought. That, and he had found a book, written completely in the goblin tongue, and after concentrating on the entirely foreign words, was able to comprehend them. If Zaruul had done anything, it was help Eilzair grow a little more powerful.
Their trek at sea was not over soon enough. Since the ship was always moving, Eilzair had been unable to fly. It was too dangerous, with just water around to catch him. Yes, Eilzair could swim, but not terribly well, nor for the distance it would require to reach the nearest landmass. So he stayed, wings hidden, feeling like he was chained to the wooden deck. The sky felt so near but unreachable. It nearly drove him mad. It was a small consolation to tell one of the sailors stories of sea dragons, enhancing the tale with the fear he implanted in the man’s mind. After that the man had been paranoid, always looking over the railing with fright, as if a massive dragon was about to attack the ship from below.
At least it would have made their trip more entertaining.
Sadly, it did not come true. But on that note, at least it ended quickly. Soon they were in Rineva, the city filled with wealthy merchants and strange cults. It was an interesting clash, why Eilzair had liked the place at first. When his master died, once Eilzair escaped his captivity, there had been no reason to remain. He abandoned the old manor, the place he had begun to call home, going out into the unknown with no purpose, nothing to drive him but a want for power. Eilzair had never been able to locate the group who had killed his mentor.
He was nowhere near strong enough to confront them yet. It was probably for the best.
Eilzair picked up a small painted picture, brushing the dust off it with a gloved hand. His dull blue eyes were sad as he looked at it. The man in the painting had short brown hair and big violet eyes. He wore a lot of beiges and browns, most of his attire composed of the former. The most remarkable thing about him was the wings, scales glimmering in the sunlight which had been shining at the time, the golden hue of them attracting all attention away from the young man next to him. Iseth Celza had always been the center of attention, all the more since he did not hide his wings, like Eilzair had taken to doing after Iseth’s death. Eilzair was only seventeen in that painting, as it had been done not long after he ran away from Laflis. He had big, plain looking blue eyes, wore robes like a sorcerer was expected to, had a book open and was reading it rather than looking at the painter or smiling.
He put down the painting, sighing. The last three weeks had gone quickly. Eilzair spent most of his time out in the city, trying to get a hold of contacts Iseth used to have, only to find many of them had moved away or died in the last few years. He found a few small jobs, translating texts into common for a temple, taking care of a mutant rat problem in the cellar of the tavern at the outskirts of town. Nothing big, just enough to get extra money, for food and such. Eilzair was waiting to use any of the equipment or other loot he had taken from Zaruul’s. The manor needed some help, and it only seemed appropriate to use that money for such a purpose.
That day Eilzair was in the half-empty library, books spread across the main table, notes strewn about. His wings were hidden, though for the last few days he had kept them out, trying to grow accustomed to them. He had even slept with his wings, waking up in the morning to find one stretched protectively out over him. It was strange, but Eilzair did not question it. Now he was doing research, on his own time rather than for a job. He was trying to finish the training Iseth had not been able to. It was what his mentor would have wanted.
Eilzair stood, stretching. He reached up, kneading at his right shoulder to get it to loosen up. It barely worked, but was better than nothing. Eilzair paced back and forth, mind rolling over the information he had just read. It was about the different sects which had been sprouting up not long ago, where creatures like him gathered together, learned together, protected one another. There were no such groups anywhere near Rineva, though. Or any place he had been before, for that matter. Iseth was the closest thing Eilzair had had to that.
There was a grave in the disregarded gardens which the manor enclosed. Eilzair had not been out there yet. He wanted to tell Iseth what color wings he had…. And dismissed the notion. Iseth would not hear him. Eilzair stopped pacing, taking the portrait of he and Iseth and putting it back on the desk at the far end of the room, with other little painted pictures. There were some of Iseth with his family when he was young. Iseth was human, like Eilzair, but looked as though he might have elven blood somewhere back in his lineage, though too far to give him pointed ears. The eyes whispered it. Eilzair took a deep breath, sitting down again, staring at the book at that seat without seeing any of the words.
It had been a long day so far. There was a hole in the roof, above Eilzair’s old room. Despite that, Eilzair had been sleeping in there. The small space was comforting in a way. Earlier that day Eilzair had flown to the roof and fastened some wooden planks over the hole until further work could be done. Now he was tired, studying not helping at all. Eilzair closed the book, pushing it away from him. Right elbow on the table, Eilzair rested his cheek in his hand, gazing blankly at the far bookshelf with half-open eyes.
