The Seaside City of Naayir-Nahtahma | Svernia: I

Daybreak and Noaki still showed no signs of improvement. Moritz feels a helpless scramble of emotions sitting at Noaki's bedside, waiting for him to wake up. The only solace was at least he didn't appear to be in any pain. His brown complexion had paled, and his hair lost its color, dangling across his forehead in clumps.

Moritz grabs Noaki's coat and drapes it over him. In spite of the warming weather, Noaki's body temperature had dropped. Considering his own nature, it felt odd to be worrying about the cold. He drapes the ayshek with an amber cloth.

Above deck Gavin, Quentin, and Veynir were gambling over a game of dice with Moir at the helm.

Moir had advised Quentin to take it easy unless the wind started being difficult. Moritz couldn't blame him, after last night's storm he was about to pass out himself. He stayed awake of course, to be prepared for another.

He sits down, leaning against the pole mast. The sun on top of a nice breeze would be a welcome to any sailor after that ordeal. Moritz shuts his eyes just for a moment.

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"Land Ho!"

Moritz jumps onto his feet dazed and confused. He races up the quarterdeck next to Gavin and sees it for himself. "It's a sight isn't it? That be the Seaside City of Naayir-Nahtahma."

Mountains are carved into terraces, like giant steps dotted with domed buildings glistening in the sunlight.

The mountain terraces are bridged by an impossible structure spanning at least twelve kilometres across with a large arch for ships to pass. The bridge leads to an extraordinarily compact city rising up and into three mountainsides. Thousands of vessels from fishing boats to cargo ships, dot the equally innumerable number of piers and ports. Foliage of groves and trees protrude from the city at various points.

Moritz jumps from the quarterdeck intending to grab Noaki when he remembers. He returns to Gavin's side who was a little too calm for Moritz's comfort. "Do you really think they'll get help here?"

Gavin's gaze didn't falter from the shoreline. "If there be any around these lands who can help, they'd be here."

"What if we don't make it in time? It looks awfully large." As they near, the true scale of this metropolis silences him.

"I already sent word, he'll be waiting for us."

Moritz waits in the same spot long after Gavin leaves. When they pass the city's cobblestone causeway congested with traffic, a couple passersby, mostly children, are waving at them. Moritz and Quentin oblige them as Moir and the Captain dock the ship.

This was it. They were finally here. Moritz leaps from the quarterdeck alongside Quentin. The two were eager to jump onto the pier when they're pulled back by Veynir.

"Easy there, you guys can explore later, first there's work to do." He releases them. "Now come on, I'll take care of the heavy stuff and you two can team lift."

Moritz and Quentin groan but assist with the cargo. Veynir who was accustomed to this kind of work powerlifts two barrels over each shoulder. Though Quentin claims this was a show intended for the ladies. He and Moritz share a grin and continue their labor. By the time it had all been unloaded, Moritz and Quentin are slumped against a bollard, exhausted as they can be.

Moritz retreats back on deck when he encounters a youthful man sporting a good deal of dark stubble beneath his chin. He adorns his athletic frame in a high collared twill tunic, waisted down with a sash embroidered in intricately designed white and gold thread. A white cap bears down on locks of jet black hair.

"Gavin? There's a stranger aboard!" Moritz attempts a dash for the exit when he collides into Gavin's sturdy frame. The burly man hadn't budged an inch.

"Moritz. This'll be his grace, Chancellor Ali Abdhalhim," Gavin whirls Moritz toward Ali. "Now go pay your respects, he is the one helping our friends."

Moritz approaches the chancellor, unsure exactly how to pay respects. He stops. Now he has to do something. "Thank you, your grace," Moritz bows deeply, "for helping my friends."

A large hand raises him up from the chin, bringing Moritz to meet kind jade eyes. He speaks in a serene voice. "My friend, there is no need to bow here."

Tears come to Moritz. The resistances he placed in his mind, the struggles, and the hopelessness gives way. One look and this man knew it all.

"Come now, let us see what we can do for your friends." The Chancellor leads Moritz into Noaki's quarters, his presence soothing to the atmosphere.

Moritz observes when the Chancellor removes Noaki's coat and unlaces his shirt. With his mid and forefinger, he traces a straight line up his abdomen to his chest, an interaction that briefly illuminates his flesh in a series of white and violet swirls. Noaki's color gradually returns, his abdomen heaving normally.

"This okari is strong, without my intervention, he would have been fine. He just needs rest." The Chancellor covers Noaki with his coat.

Relieved, Moritz follows the man into Orion's quarters, furnished with all manner of strange instruments.

The Chancellor removes Orion's clothing, revealing a lean frame. Moritz is surprised to see patterns extending over his torso.

The chancellor proceeds with the same gestural procedure. Orion's flesh responds with a series of pink and light blue, with a mix of white. "The dalkari are peculiar people."

With the same fingers Ali illustrates a glyph of three lines facing down, a horizontal line above, a circle above that, a longer horizontal line above that and three lines fanning upward. The glyph occupies the entirety of Orion's torso. Ali places his palm directly onto the circle and the glyph ignites a luminous white.

Moritz imagines hearing a series of harmonic sounds, followed by the distant breaking of ice.

From the base of his torso, to his face, Orion's patterns glow molten white, this is followed by gentle pulses of energy.

Moritz holds his breath, when the glyph finally vanishes, Orion's patterns resume their pearl color, his expression no longer looking pained, and his breathing stabilized.

"This dalkarian will also be well, though he will slumber." The Chancellor places an encouraging hand on Moritz's back. "Come now, let us let them rest."

A nonchalant Gavin awaits on deck for them to emerge. "How is it?"

"They both will make full recoveries. Though the dalkarian will not yet see light for some time. A few days in length." The chancellor brings Moritz forward. "This one is as healthy as they come."

"Aye, and good company at times." Gavin walks up to Moritz and places a hand on his shoulder. "You're feeling alright then lad?"

For the first time, Moritz looks into the silver eyes of the brawny man in a white furred overcoat, looking tired but firm. He nods.

"That's a good lad." Gavin thanks the Chancellor with a casual pat on the shoulder. "I can't thank you enough, your grace."

"The pleasure is all mine, old friend." The chancellor gestures skyward. "I think there's someone you're long overdue to meet."

A fierce screech fills the air, followed by talons and white feathers.

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Moritz is taken aback. A whitehawk.

"This is my companion," Gavin grins, raising his arm out for the bird to land on. "There's a proper lass," Gavin chuckles, nudging the bird under the beak. She screeches and pecks at his head and rubs affectionately against him.

"If you all will be here for some time. You are all welcome to my home." The chancellor stands before the gangplank.

"Aye, that we will. I appreciate it, your grace."

The chancellor bows and proceeds onto the pier and is immediately surrounded by guards whose faces are concealed beneath white masks. They wield dual curved swords and maces.

"Is all that security necessary?" Moritz studies the man who gathers a flock of followers applauding and tossing petals. "Nevermind, I have my answer."

Moritz leaps onto the pier where the captain is engaging some merchants, Veynir and Quentin are hauling cargo onto carts, and Reyna… where had she gone off to?

Moritz walks up to Quentin. "Need some help?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Quentin hands him a deceivingly heavy crate. "Right then, that goes over there. Next to the people in blue. Yeah, that's the one."

"You know where Reyna has gone off?" Moritz heaves a small barrel of what he took to be rum.

"She's probably wandered off to stock up on medicine." Veynir answers. "That's gonna go over there, next to those other barrels."

When Moritz returns he hoists two sacks of grain over his shoulders. "Why'd she go and do that?"

"She feels inadequate right now with her apprenticeship." Veynir lifts three crates. "That'll go with the merchants weighing things down on the scale."

"It's not like there was anything she could've done." Moritz team lifts a heavy crate with Quentin.

"She left the Vitae with proper discipline to continue the practice on her own, but she's been neglecting it." Veynir walks beside them with a similar crate. They lower the crates down gently.

Moritz and the others spend a good deal of the afternoon hauling and loading the merchants' products with still no sign of Reyna. Early evening came along and they were officially finished with the cargo.

Veynir slaps Moritz on the back. "That's a good day's work, you and your friend would make a fine addition to our crew."

"Er… thanks," Moritz hobbles to Quentin. "That kind of hurt."

Quentin's laugh is cut short when he receives a nice smack on the back.

"You on the other hand, younger brother, I don't need to worry about, seeing as your Moir's problem now." Veynir tousles their hair. "Come on, let's grab a drink."

They walk on either side of Veynir.

"If I'm Moir's problem, why do I gotta help you?"

"Because my problems are your problems, it doesn't work the other way around though."

Moritz and Veynir break into laughter with a disgruntled Quentin beside them.

The streets are a cacophony of noise and lights. Maze-like with haphazard lanterns strewn about among other things. Music, vendors, delicious smelling buildings. Boutiques, venues, shops, confectionaries, bakeries, curio shops, Moritz can't name them all.

The parks and plazas are populous with throngs of people, old, young, middle aged, beggars, merchants, vendors, protestors, salesmen, performers. This city encompasses all manner of activity that can occupy one forever.

Veynir guides them along knowledgeably through the streets and to the tavern named 'Altavera.' They enter.

The smoke filled tavern swarms with people of various castes, creed, and nationalities. The interior rises three levels of terrace balconies.

"Well?" Veynir leads them with hands on both shoulders. "What do you say? I've three other places in mind if this isn't up to speed."

"This place," Moritz strolls off, "it's magnificent."

"Sorry Quentin, the newcomer made his choice first."

Quentin points to the second balcony, "let's find a spot there. It looks like a nice view."

They follow the back staircase and onto the second terrace balcony. The place is packed but they manage to find a spot in the back corner.

Menus were brought to them which Moritz struggles to decipher. "Well that's a shame, are they all tasty?"

"Can't decide?" Quentin puts down the menu. "Some of the stuff on here isn't bad. I wouldn't go with foreign ones unless you're feeling adventurous."

"After our whole ordeal and you find eating new food adventurous?" Veynir laughs. "Alright. The third one is sort of like lamb chop, the sixth one, you'll recognize as steamed vegetable and rice."

Veynir continues listing the ingredients when Moritz vaguely recognizes a party of three next to the railing, though he can't put a name to them. One sports a sword, the other a monk's garb of some sort, and the third looks like… a pirate?

"So what d'you say?"

Moritz snaps back to attention. "Er… I think the steamed vegetable and rice, with a bit of ale if they got it."

"Alright then, let's treat ourselves to a bit of a men's night out ye?" Veynir takes their orders from a flushed waitress.

"I notice you staring at the one with a sword, what's up?" Asks Quentin.

Moritz tries to sneak a glance when the trio exits the tavern. "I don't know, but I think I recognize him."

Quentin follows them out with his gaze. "He's probably a duelist, that's where you might have recognized him."

"It is pretty popular around these parts," Veynir confirms.

Moritz doesn't mention his knowledge of dueling extended only to his time sparring with Noaki. Although he did just traverse the most chaotic streets he'd been in so far, perhaps he glimpsed the guy on flyers at some point.

The waitress returns a few minutes later with their drinks and that was the last of the trio in his mind.

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Moritz opens his eyes to a familiar face. Cobalt violet eyes, giant furred overcoat, dark brown hair. He jumps from bed squeezing the breath out of Noaki.

"Mo-ritz… can't breathe."

Moritz releases him. "I thought you'd passed onto the other side."

"I might have with that hug," Noaki settles in the chair in the corner of his cabin. "I heard about Orion, he's looking a lot better."

"You should've seen him, the chancellor. How he worked. It was incredible!" Moritz recounts the details of what had happened since Noaki passed out. "Wait a minute."

Noaki leans in with a serious expression. "What?"

"You got out of work you lazy git!" Moritz launches his pillow at him.

"Hey!" Noaki thrusts the pillow back. "I'm the aristocrat here."

"Aristo-, you're a thief!" Moritz assaults him with a pillow. When Moritz runs out of steam, the two are on the floor flat on their backs engaged in laughter.

"I'm glad you're alright though. You did give me a scare." Moritz tosses the pillow back on his cot.

Noaki peels himself off the floor and assists Moritz up. "Not as scared as I felt when you nearly drowned. I'm glad you're alright too." Noaki locks forearms and the two embrace. "Now come on, I'm starving. Feel like I haven't eaten in days."

With crystaire weighing heavy in their pockets, they browse the streets for a decent eatery. They settle on a small alleyway eatery specializing in seafood.

"What do you suppose we'll do today?" Noaki prods at the bug-like dish.

A whirlwind of options come to mind when, "I don't think we can do much. We're expected at the chancellor's today."

Noaki plops the creature into his mouth and chews with progressive interest. "The chancellor, I forgot about him. I really ought to thank him."

Moritz picks at the steaming fish laid out on a leaf. "This is good, is the leaf edible?"

The chef stares blankly then bursts into tears. "No, is not edible, but here try with this, you to." He puts out two containers of miniature saucers containing a green sauce.

Moritz spreads it over his fish, the herbs change everything. "Thank you."

On their return to the ship Moritz stops abruptly. "There's one more thing I forgot to mention!"

"What's that?"

"Whitehawk isn't just Gavin's last name."