[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/992864037962526720/1000801172313092126/silas.png[/img][/center][colour=7B68EE][hr] [b]Trials and Tribulations I[/b][/colour] [sub]Ersand'Enise Seen & Mentioned: idk a lot[/sub] A pounding on the door nearly caused Silas to fall from his bunk: Memories of a birthday surprise the week before still all too fresh. But it was male voices that called out orders to him, and in fluent Avincian. [colour=7B68EE]"Who's there?!"[/colour] He shouted back as he jumped from his bed, silently cursing himself for spending the night in the dorms at all after the last event. "Representatives of D.R.A.G.O.N., here to see about the Froabase eggs know to be in your possession." As the man explained himself, a jiggle to the door knob entered the rotation of knocking and shouting. Silas dragged his blanket down with him, billowing it out to cover a fraction of the littered possessions scattered wildly behind the stacked bunks. The lower bed was empty. Always an infuriatingly early riser Desmond had inadvertently abandoned him to an investigation. Unless the Enthish boy had done so on purpose; reported their sale of the egg to let Silas take the blame and be free of any suspicion. [colour=7B68EE]"Right- Give me a moment!"[/colour] His words came out a discernibly higher pitch than before. Leaping the final paces to the door of the small room, Silas managed to open it just it time to save it a final frame-rattling pounding. A trio of men, dressed in rich materials and decorated with various metals, stood on the other side of the threshold. [colour=7B68EE]"The Froabase eggs. Egg. Right. Of course."[/colour] He was still wearing his bedclothes; a well tattered and over-sided linen shirt that still bore the memory of the original white colour in some places. [colour=7B68EE]"I uh- only have the one."[/colour] He kicked a few stray items to make a wide enough path for the men to follow him to the egg's resting place in the closet. Even so, one had to remain outside and the other on the opposite side of the room, the space remained so limited. "And your name?" The representative that had managed to follow Silas closely enough to get a good look at the egg produced a flat board with papers and a pen. [colour=7B68EE]"Silas Reiger."[/colour] He could feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. There hadn't even been enough time to cover his eyes. The longer the stranger scratched away at his records the more time Silas had to imagine the worst possible outcomes of his predicament and assure himself that Desmond truly had hung him up to dry. "A standard male Froabase egg. In healthy condition still a few months out from hatching." The writing continued even as he spoke. "Current conditions leave much to be desired but, space is compatible for the needs of nursing one egg should the owner comply with D.R.A.G.O.N. regulations. The owner being Silas Rieger?" The question was so sudden in such a quick list of information it surprised him. [colour=7B68EE]"Yes. I am."[/colour] "Upon hatching new accommodations will be needed if you require information or assistance on accommodating a Froabase hatch-ling..." It took nearly half an hour for the representative to complete his paperwork. Silas handed over payment for the suggested care items with uncharacteristically little reluctance; his eagerness to be rid of the men and their questions outweighing frugality. "If you will sign here for me please," They were standing at the doorway again, the new purchases having further reduced the standing space inside. Silas hesitated only a moment before taking the fountain pen from the taller man's hand and hastily scribbling a design that could just barely be legible as a name, albeit with one or two letters in the wrong direction. "One final thing." Just when the end was in sight, the leader turned heel stop the door from fully closing all the way. "This is the only egg in possession at this residence?" [colour=7B68EE]"Only one."[/colour] Silas agreed, unable to stop his rapid nodding once it had begun. A final few marks were made on the report, and then there were gone. The relief that came with their departure was great enough that Silas had almost forgotten the faire entirely. Right until horns and cheers bellowed a summons from under his window. [hr] It wasn't Silas' first attendance at the Societies faire. He could remember the past two of his life, and the former had even been during his short time with true sight. They were some of his happiest memories, where residence from the entire city joined to the main streets, spirits full of cheer and purses with coin. The excitement was in part responsible for his later slumber; the thought of being the target for all the festivities was something too grand to even dream about only a few months before. So he'd spent the better part of the night tossing and turning in anticipation until exhaustion took him. It meant the first day was something of a wash; he spent the bulk of it around the table for the Speed Demons, watching the others sign and compete in various ways. Jackson Clark himself made an appearance and showed some over-confident biro's he was legend even among the low-born natives of Ersand'Enise. An unexpected combination of awe and nerves left Silas a observer only. The society head wasn't the only familiar presence. The short and round frame of Ishto was also milling through the crowd, trying to collect bets from a small group of young spectators. All were welcome in every district during the faire, so there was no need to think twice about why the boy was there. At least until Silas was close enough to be noticed. With a yelp and comedic jump of surprise the boy sprinted out of sight before he could even be addressed. Silas moved to follow but instead was found by Desmond and quickly forgot about the urchin altogether. Their conversation did eventually lead him to the Enchanter's Union, the guild already had his name prepared on their list as a Zenith Scholar; much to his chagrin. But he was in no hurry to reveal the extent of his new-found wealth and so gave his perplexing signature on the required forms before the booth's closing on the first day. [hr] On the second day a song from Ayla and a continued sense of fatigue brought Silas to the fully-stocked and modestly busy Zeno-Bucks. Marci was manning the stand, always easy to identify with her her narrow frame and large floppy hat, and reached over the counter the moment she recognized him. "Silas! You look awful." Whether it was a facade to draw customers or the contagious energy of the faire, she seemed in high spirits, even while insulting him. "A cup of Virang's finest might just be the cure!" [colour=7B68EE]"Zarina trying to make a business out of her habit?"[/colour] That was all the prompting needed for Marci launch into a well-rehearsed sales pitch that eventually lead Silas to buying a cup of the hot drink, and forcing a smile through the bitter taste. [colour=7B68EE]"You're still finding time to join societies? with all this?"[/colour] He gestured to the grinder, cups, and customers. Their conversation drifted to more casual matters where it was revealed both had been approached late the day before, well after most of the booths had been closed. An invitation to join another, more exclusive club -or so they claimed- located somewhere outside the southern city walls. The two young biro's speculated on the secret group's other possible members and true purpose before the morning rush became to great for Marci to indulge him. "Bring back the cup!" Were her last words when Silas broke away from the counter a drink later; his second heavily sweetened for a steep price. Barely detectable to his senses, and well out of Marci's view, another figure parted from the surveying customers to follow him across the street. Silas only spent a scant hour of the morning watching the Speed Demon races before making his was to the unexplored western half of the city, determined to make better use of the second day. In the Cathedral district he found the Draconic Order. Yet another group that already had his name prepared on forms; courtesy of his visitors the day before. Much preferring the idea of seeking advice from his peers than the stuffy D.R.A.G.O.N. members, Silas readily agreed to membership. It was as he was leaving back towards the main campus that Kaspar caught his attention; beckoning to him from across the main road. [colour=7B68EE]"I don't think that's an aberration."[/colour] Was Silas' entire contribution when the other boy had shown his discovery. They were in disagreement; their eyes seeing two very different things. Whatever [i]it[/i] was, was too active for it to be a proper aberration; reaching out and pulling at the energy around it rather than leeching the other way. Kaspar insisted it looked the same save for colour. Both agreed on the ominous aura it produced. [colour=7B68EE]"We can't just leave it here right?"[/colour] He sounded wary of the idea, and the feeling was genuine. It didn't help that the closer they approached the stronger the pull became. Kaspar must have felt it too, as with only a nod to communicate, the two began to draw from the strange aberration almost simultaneously. The dread and hesitation fled Silas' body just as the energy transfer began. Unlike the unpleasantness experienced in the desert, he felt hyper-aware of each passing second, each thought clear and his own. It took another moment to notice the effects were persisting even after the entity was gone. [colour=7B68EE]"I feel.... Great."[/colour] He was browsing over the magic societies when the second aberration appeared. There was little hope in him being accepted to any, at least as anything more than a novelty for his viral manatype. Still he couldn't help himself from idling over the Golden Mushroom's displays, however haughty and aloof the members. It was large, and only seemed to be growing in the space in-front of the fountain, almost comforting in its familiarity compared to what he'd previously dealt with. [colour=7B68EE]"Ingrid?"[/colour] He called out, thinking he recognized the tall girl walking towards him. [i]Running[/i] in fact. [colour=7B68EE]"Ingrid?"[/colour] He asked again, in a much less certain tone. She passed him in a matter of steps, clearly reaching for the large void of an aberration behind the society members. It wasn't going to be her first helping of void for the day by the looks of things. With his fellow student deafened by aberration-madness, Silas felt no choice but to join her in pulling from the gaping void of energy, if only to stop her from getting worse. It came easily, and so quickly it sent him staggering; clutching the sides of hid head as he felt his capacity was reached, then strained just as soon as he'd begun. To their benefit, the aberration had dissipated with just as much speed. Still hunched over, and breathing heavily, but feeling mentally stable Silas attempted to address his fellow Biro again: [colour=7B68EE]"Are you-"[/colour] But Ingrid was already upon him, and using the full brunt of her strength -and near two foot advantage- to send him flying over the Golden Mushroom's table, ruining a good deal of their display and landing Silas squarely into the fountain. That, along with memories of her immense power against the sand wyrm were enough to discourage any further attempts to calm the maddened noble. Besides, his dept to her had already been paid; this was finally an issue for the Zenos to handle. The rest of the faire passed with surprisingly little drama, irregardless of the half dozen aberration popping into existence throughout the afternoon. Silas found himself again at the Speed Demon booth towards the end of the day, a second Zeno-Buck's cup in hand, and oblivious to his trailing shadow. Deciding he'd had enough anxious teetering, he approached the administrative table. There his name was taken, as was his class schedule and current mana capabilities. For the second time Silas signed his name to the half-lie. After the events of the day who was to say what his capacity was compared to the student record anyway? His ego wasn't quite so great as the challenge the society head, but a particularly ostentatious noble from his cohort that had already earned his place. "Not sure how I feel about a challenger lacking in stature, sight, and capacity." He sneered, making a grand show of leaning down to peer at Silas. [colour=7B68EE]"At least state the race before forfeiting then."[/colour] "The commons-roof route. I assume you're familiar enough with the place." A small bit of an audience had gathered, and an audible chortle of laughter reached them both. [colour=7B68EE]"Could do it with my eyes closed."[/colour] Silas agreed with half a smile, tapping his blindfold. The long walk to the common dorms left more time for the initially small following to grow to something rather sizeable. Silas' nerves grew in tandem and he found himself focusing his senses on individuals in the group. He was suddenly certain something was wrong. Logic told him it was only his own anxiety- as unwarranted and unnecessary as his fears the morning before. When they made it to the rooftops, the surprise and excitement of Jackson Clark standing with them to observe the race was enough to supersede his worries. In fairness, there was no way for his opponent to know exactly [i]how[/i] familiar with Clark's famous route Silas was. There hadn't been a need to disclose the fact that he'd witnessed being done first hand four years before, or that it had been part of his self-study in using his false-sight and gift to maneuver throughout the city. As it was, it didn't take long for his opponent to drop out of sensory range, and Silas' confidence began to grow with each pounding heartbeat. The first notable leap on the path was between the Castle and it's shorter neighboring building. The gap was just wide enough to require a slight use of the Gift to cross. Eager to make a show, Silas drew and released much more than needed, lauching himself a good twelve feet in the air. Except, his decent began too soon. Something had drawn at his forward moving momentum. [i]Someone[/i]. Still em-poured with enough drawing speed from the white aberration, Silas expelled enough force energy to catch himself on the roof's ledge. The figure responsible remained above on the Castle as Silas struggled to right himself. It wasn't his competitor, and yet the shape of the meddler rang strangely familiar. Not wanting to waste time dwelling on potential cheating, Silas kept to a more basic route, free of any obstacles that required the Gift, until the final wall directly bellow the dorms' highest point, and finish line. He hesitated, but ultimately employed his kinetic magic to keep his hands and feet firmly against the wall as he climbed the vertical surface. No other magic touched him until mere feet from the summit. The static force he poured into each of his limbs to remain stable in his precarious position began being gently pulled from. His hands were the first to slip, making his head lead the proceeding plummet downward. He drew from the momentum- desperate to catch his fall- only to realize it was more than gravity working against him; whoever had caused the fall was [i]pushing[/i] him towards the ground. A sudden force in the opposite direction winded Silas, but knocked him out of his accelerated fall towards the wall again, where he was able to catch himself and make out his rescuer. The noble he'd challenged had caught up, and in a convincingly shocked state. "What the hell? Who-?" Silas didn't wait around to hear the rest of the thought. Instead he fled, trusting the other's arrival enough of a distraction to allow for his escape unharmed. It was a longer route without scaling the wall, but it didn't require putting himself at the same risk. There had been no doubt that time; someone was trying to kill him. The crowd that had remained long enough to see the result of the event erupted into cheers as Silas crossed the starting point again. Only he didn't stop, not when the administrator called out to him, or even as Clark reached for his hand. Silas continued running with increased speed until he reached the same ledge he'd first felt the mysterious mage's interference. This time he slid down the wall, already feeling intrusive magic pulling at his own created friction. He fell through the first open window he found. An unfamiliar room, with a stranger shouting obscenities at him inside. The window slammed shut with enough force cause an unsettling creak from it's poorly-aged frame. His own room was mercifully close by, and in the same building. He retired there for the rest of the evening; fearing to return to his Zeno's rooms until late nightfall. [hr] [hider=bad post read this instead] - D.R.A.G.O.N. Reps are dealt with - Silas joins clubs listed bellow - Someone is tailing him throughout the faire - Silas gets chased down by a familiar face while trying out for the Speed Demons. - Silas has lost 2 zeno bucks cups.[/hider] [hider=Silas Clubs] Guild: Enchanter's Union Clubs: Draconic Order, Little RAScals, Rat Bastards, Speed Demons[/hider]