Fate - First Reply Ashes of The Past

[Sylvian Artesto]

He'd always thought that after so many years, maybe he'd find just a little bit of peace. Perhaps, he'd hoped, if he turned his head away from the rubble of his old life for long enough, some unseen custodian would eventually get around to tidying it up, and the people who'd burned everything he'd ever loved to the ground would forget about him. It was funny, how somebody getting up there in years like him could still be so naively optimistic.

There would be no forgetting. Today had been a sobering reminder of Sylvian Artesto's reality. The flecks of ash that clung to his clothes and the smell of smoke that caked his nostrils like badges of shame as he floated down the river that flowed away from the burning remains of the freshly-razed city of Vel Farris. The city he'd helped found so many years ago, the place he'd called his home for the last decade and change. After so long, Artesto had finally gotten his hopes up, finally convinced himself that he no longer had to be afraid.

But they'd come for him. Sylvian didn't know why it had taken them so long, or what had tipped them off to his presence, but the Republic of Vel Anir had deployed a Dreadlord and a contingent of Guards to turn the entire city to ash. The small, single-person boat that carried gently down the river led him away from the massive smoke plumes in the distance behind him, the smoldering wreckage of yet another life they'd taken, another light they'd extinguished.

Why didn't he feel angry, he wondered. Why was all he could muster a sigh of resignation as he leaned back on the boat and readied his fishing rod, the only belonging he'd saved from the blaze? He supposed he'd always known that this would happen someday. It had been a matter of time until the tension and conflict of Anir found him once more. As he cast his line out into the river, he paid a thought to his son, Silas. Could he have been amongst the Guards that razed Vel Farris? He would be getting to that age by now, wouldn't he?

Such idle thoughts, the gentle lullaby of the water beneath him, and the fatigue from escaping the burning city he left behind him led Sylvian to fall asleep atop the boat. An aging man, covered in ash and soot, with a fishing rod hanging loosely from his hands drifted slowly down the river. Perhaps those Guards would find him there. Perhaps he'd float through a town, or even off of a steep waterfall.

These thoughts may have even crossed his dozing mind. What, though, did he have left to care for? Fate had found him, and now all he could do was let it take control.

 

[Rori]

Aurora knelt by the riverbank, the cool water soothing the bleeding and blistered skin on her palms. Sweat dusted her brow and her body ached, but here, the gentle current of the river gave her a brief moment of peace. But then, something caught her eye.

A boat, drifting downstream. As she stood up she could see the man within, his skin and clothes thick with ash and his face slack and vacant. Was he dead? She was about to look away, to turn and step back into the forest when her green eyes snagged on the fishing rod that hung loosely from his hands, swaying above the water as his body floated slowly with the current.

Her stomach led her into the water. Survival demanded choices. This one, she could live with.

She glanced up and down the riverbank, ensuring no one else was watching. Then, with quiet steps, she waded through the shallows. The cool water rose up and up to her waist as she approached him, cautious and steady, her eyes fixed on the rod.

She hesitated for a moment, watching for signs of life. But the man’s body bobbed listlessly, giving no indication of movement. She was quick as she grabbed the fishing rod, her hands trembling from more than just her blisters.

 

[Sylvian Artesto]

Nap time ended a bit sooner than he'd expected.

It wasn't particularly common to snag a fish this far upstream; the best meat tended to dwell out in the open sea, with only the small and nimble types daring to venture against the current that carried Sylvian and his boat toward the deposit. One didn't look a gift horse in the mouth though, and they certainly didn't nitpick such oddities when seeking their first meal in days.

When the rod began to struggle against where he'd secured it to the boat, the unmistakable sound roused Artesto quickly from his soot-laden slumber. Groggily looking over at the line as it struggled against something, something big from the looks of it, he let out a quiet swear and dove to grab the rod before it was pulled off completely.

And both Sylvian and his fishing rod careened off of the side of the boat.

The cold water should have come as a welcome contrast from the fire and ash he'd left behind, and the black cloud that emenated from his pores as the soot began to break from his skin meant he'd be a fair deal cleaner than before to boot. Regardless, the shock to his system was hardly worth it, nor was the realization, as he tugged and followed the line, a mouth full of air pockets and foul tasting water, that it was no fish he'd snared, but a girl.

"What...?"

Rori

 

[Rori]

As the man’s weight crashed into the river, the rod jerked violently in Rori's hands, dragging her under the surface for a terrifying moment. The icy water flooded her mouth, and for a breathless second, she struggled to right herself, her body fighting against the current.

She flailed to get her head back above the surface, coughing the water she'd swallowed, her feet kicking - frantic to find purchase on the slippery riverbed. Her soaked crimson hair clung to her face, blinding her for a moment, and she swiped at it in irritation.

"Let go!" she gasped, her voice strained and frantic as she fought to pull herself, and the fishing rod, back to the riverbank. She pulled again, this time with more force, desperate to break free from the tug of the man still attached to the other end of it. Rori’s hands burned, her cold, raw skin screaming with the effort of holding on.

 

[Sylvian Artesto]

The lass was so grimy and scrawny that through the water that splashed against his eyes Artesto couldn't be too certain whether the thing tugging desperately at his line was a human or a cave-dwelling halfling. Well, it was either the water or the lack of sleep. Take your pick.

Whatever and whoever she was, she was kind enough to wake him up properly with a surprisingly solid kick to the gut, pushing all of the air out of him and forcing him to make for the surface to catch his breath.

Above water, Sylvian could see her much better, pulling frantically on the rod, voice breathless and frightened as she tried to escape him. Still, she wasn't accomplishing much, perhaps due to how scrawny and peckish she looked to be. Rather than watch her struggle and agonize, Sylvian releases his grip, letting her rush to the bank and out of the water.

"The hell do you think you're going?" He called after, a twinge of amusement mixed with the frustration in his voice as he swam to shore behind her. Sylvian wasn't really furious about the fishing rod, or the water. If anything, he was concerned; He'd just escaped a burning town-- He thought he looked like shit, but this girl..."There's not even a fish on the damned thing!"

Rori