[color=918f95][center][sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/aK2Vggc.png[/img][/sub]
[color=a167e9]Sᴏᴠᴇʀᴇɪɢɴᴛʏ ᴏғ Dʀʏᴀᴅᴀʟɪs' Dᴏᴄᴋ, [i]Tʜᴇ Eᴏʟᴅʏssᴇᴜs'[/i] Dᴇᴘᴀʀᴛᴜʀᴇ 
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A jostle in the carriage caused Uriel’s head to jest against the bench on which he was seated. His melancholy gaze opened the boy’s eyes, having realized in his concentration that he had fallen asleep.  An embarrassing whisper pulled from his breath as he tried to contain his mood with a forced smile, milligram in size that edged his face to peer out the vehicle’s window. The sun was so bright amidst all the glittering shadows of the city’s trees, and a playful twinge of excitement roused in him while his tired thoughts tried to sew themselves together in order to fabricate more energy and will -- Anima Mea and Intellectus.

He had arrived at his destination.  However, he was still a bit of ways from the barge, and by the looks of the sun, there was little time.  His thin body pushed itself from the wooden seat and collected the most mature stance he could muster in his immature frame. The book held in his hand was discretely shuffled into his satchel as he made his way through the tight wooden interior. There were gruff voices conversing, and the coachman was making some business talk while keeping tabs on all who exited his vehicle.  Without much hesitation aside from tiredness, Uriel thanked the man for his hospitality and thusly received the corresponding gratitude before making heads and tails of his mental compass.

There really was no time.  There never seemed to be enough time.  Uriel knew this perpetual feeling all too well.  They might as well have been friends by now.  The boy was willing to make it such, if only the feeling was not always in a hurry, and he was better at minding its commands.  Often times, the feeling felt more like an authoritative figure or guardian than a friend, and he knew his youngness ought to be an excuse for not behaving according to its whims.  However, Uriel was beginning to tire of perpetually making his age an excuse for anything.  He would be a man soon enough, and spending time on dying excuses was a waste of time for someone who hardly had any time if any at all.  [i]Enough about time,[/i] Uriel told himself.  He had none as it was, and so contemplating it was useless -- utterly useless.

Uriel’s boots pressed into the sandy gravel while he looked around the small area of the large city.  His gray eyes widened at the sight, scanning the design of the architecture drawing through the skyline.  He felt his lips part quietly as he lost himself for several breaths.  There was a mixture of thoughts running around in his mind.  They had been racing ever since he had taken note of the sun, but now, they were trying to accurately depict memories of this beautiful, robust scene.  Dryadalis was a town he had not visited since his very young days, which was during a period of life that he lacks any real power to ascertain through memories.  His parents [i]must[/i] have known this city very well, and for this, he wanted to preserve this small portion of time in honor of them.  Of course, as his breaths quickly passed, so did the opportunity.  The barge between Dryadalis and Thlecia would be leaving sometime soon, if not already.

With a milligram smile of musing desire, the boy wearily placed one boot in front of the other.  He had a small memory that his parents also had, and this bit of knowledge added a small spark to his strength. Even though they were dead, it was as if they were still alive, like the holy magi locked secretly on Uriel’s necklace.  It was true that [i]Life without magic was no life at all.[/i]  These simple moments, as quaint and small as they were, spoke voluminous amounts of how important it was to safekeep magic.  It was madder than madness as to what the Imperium was doing. It was murder; it was suicide. And, the dead could even detest to this behavior.  Uriel closed his left fist in frustration and slowly opened his hand, spreading out his fingers.  Anger was unwise.  It led to madness and so forth.  Yes, he wanted to murder, but his reasons were purely justified. However, he did need to make certain his alignment was correct during the act lest his actions be in vain.

Picking up his pace, the boy quickened his steps into a light jog upon seeing the vessel’s resting spot. There was a stir at the port, at least in terms of human interactions.  He could hear the bustling getting louder as he drew closer.  He was going to make it, afterall.  Uriel was not about to count his blessings, until he was assuredly on the barge. Instead, he told his body not to give up.  There would be time to rest, if there was time for anything, like catching the barge or the life of Alaric Asfarus.  Uriel was jogging quickly, now, and his bag was thumping against the side of his pant in his impetus movement until he found himself breathing heavily and slightly hunched over at a stop of rest in front of a man and a woman, presumably a couple, entertaining the ship’s purser.  The purser looked like the typical travel dog, especially in front of [i]The Eoldysseus’[/i] old landship physique.

Uriel straightened his posture and adjusted his attention to his bag.  His right hand was slipped inside of it and made to rummage around its innards in pursuit of his coin purse.  Boyish wonder was keeping afloat this time, but not enough to keep the purser from critiquing his age and causing a small flustering of pinkness on Uriel’s face as he made his way over the dock bridge. He tried to concentrate on the smell of the fresh air, and the sway of the barge’s weight, which seemed to lull him tremendously. Of course, he had time to rest on the journey. He had told himself this.  Although, he perhaps had lied a bit (sometimes, lies were necessary) because it was truer that the juvenile would have to keep his awareness alert enough to locate Alaric Asfarus.  He took his seat and relaxed himself.  The jog had been good.  He had been able to stretch his legs before another long, seated journey.  Unfortunately, not long after the ship set on his journey did Uriel drift into the contents of his subconscious.[/color]