[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][color=pink]Cuyler Eysteinsson[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://thumbs.gfycat.com/PaltrySarcasticCorydorascatfish-size_restricted.gif[/img][/center]

[hr][center][color=pink]Location:[/color] Traders’ Market[/center][hr]

He rose an eyebrow as he listened to the Alchemist talk briefly about his past and committed his rival’s name to memory. Whatever this danger was it was not to be taken lightly, for as he said, their public quarrel was set aside for a few things. This seemed to be one of them. 
Cuyler’s face screwed up at the foreign words and was about to question the frustrating creature but he was growing more transparent and then was completely gone, vanished from Cuyler’s sight. 
[color=pink]”Are you fucking serious!?”[/color] Cuyler yelled into the empty space. 
People walking on the street in front of his table stopped abruptly to stare at his little outburst. Ignoring them all, Cuyler grabbed his satchel and shoved a few things into it, including his present to Ayra. He scanned the sky for the position of the sun and glared at that as well. It was nearly time for the coronation and Cuyler had wanted to be a little nicer dressed than he was currently but his priorities had effectively switched thanks to his unwanted visitor. 
[color=pink]”Thia, find Arya,”[/color] he instructed. She too had been staring after his sudden change and seemed to be ready for whatever her companion threw at her. She slipped under Cuyler’s table and bounded through the crowd, slipping around people much easier than he would have been able to. 
He grabbed the bag of coin that had been made from this morning, pulled out two and then set the rest into his satchel. Throwing it over his shoulder, he moved swiftly up the street to Halvor’s table and tossed the coin at him. 
[color=pink]”Take what you want from the jewels on my table to sell but bring my wood carvings back to my room at the Hefring.” [/color] Before Halvor could wipe the shock from his face and begin hounding Cuyler with questions he pushed back into the crowd and moved up the street to the Wizards Tower. He hoped he would be able to intercept their travels to the castle from there. Arya needed to hear this information now and with the Wizard Tower on lockdown, it was needed now rather than after the coronation. 
He chanted the words the ghost, who was perhaps Marcellus Pye like Cuyler thought, over and over in his head so he wouldn’t forget how it sounded and finally broke into a run through the Castle streets. 
His running wasn’t quite graceful and he stumbled many times and nearly bulldozed a few people when they walked out of nearby shops. A memory flooded him then, hitting him harder than he expected and stumbled to a near stop. He continued to walk quickly, catching his breath as the memory took its course. 
His father was standing over top of him, a fire roared behind him, making it look like the man was glowing. Noise filled Cuyler’s ears and heard the crackling of fire mixed with his father’s hearty laugh. 
[i][b]”You were never good on land my boy, your legs were meant for the sea,”[/b][/i] his father stated, finally helping the tiny Cuyler to his feet. The boy was bleeding from several places due to his rough fall but paid no mind as he gazed up at the man. His father looked down at him with pure affection on his face. [i][b]”We could never get you to walk but as soon as I put you on the boat for travel, we couldn’t get you to stop walking.”[/b][/i] He laughed again and shook his head. He took the boy’s hand and guided him back to a small house where the wailing of a babe had started up. 
The memory faded and Cuyler was sucked back into reality. He was nearly upon the Wizard’s tower and he sprinted the last few blocks. He couldn’t save his family all those years ago but he would be damned if he didn’t do what he could to protect Ayra.