9 Vhalar 720 | Azrael Blackfire | Raelia
He was in Melrath again, Raelia specifically. Azrael had gone to Rharne to get away from Adrian but after sixty trials he began feeling nauseous. He hadn't been thinking about the deal he made with the spirits when he left. He had only been thinking of his own needs and desires. He'd been confused about what he wanted for a while after his encounter with the spirits. It was strange to discover you were the child of an Immortal and even stranger to consider the cascading implications. He could live... as long as he wanted now. He wasn't bound by the mortality he thought had plagued him his entire life. If he gave up the sword and pursued a more peaceful life he would have the time to do everything he ever wanted... but he didn't want to pursue a peaceful life. He wanted a fun one.
Deep down he knew he'd be drawn to deliver on the pact he'd made with the River's Daughter. He had to find the Dark Mother and share the secret with her... and only her. He wanted to tell Talia, or even Thorn, just so that he would have someone he could talk to about what was going on. He needed someone who he could bounce ideas off of but that was the trouble with keeping secrets- you had to bounce the ideas off yourself. The words of the spirit lingered in his mind, echoing at the back of his thoughts as he looked around his dimly lit inn room. You should wait, travel if you will, but return for the Valhalea celebration on the first of Zi'Da. Make your way to a tavern on the southern wall of Raelia, tended by three sisters. They will bring you into their family, and give witness of your worthiness to the circle, thus rendering you no longer an Outlander if that is your wish. Infiltrating the Children will be difficult for you if you do not accept this land into your heart.
He'd been in Raelia ever since he returned to Melrath only this time he was forced to declare himself as a mage upon arrival. Two breaks taken out of his life and he had all the paperwork he needed to legally wander Melrath. He didn't feel like a mage. He felt powerful- finding out you were part immortal had that effect, but he did not feel like a mage. Azrael thought that mages felt more in control of their power but he had no real sense of how to use the parasite inside him even all this time after being initiated. It didn't matter what he felt like... the parasite made him a mage and that meant he needed to declare. Azrael took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair to brush it out of his face before rising from his bed and crossing over to pick his sword belt up from the ground where he'd dropped it before his nap.
Azrael fastened the belt around his waist and left the inn to hit the streets. He'd more or less figure out that the only way he was going to get what he was looking for was by asking around for it. The spirit had said that there was a tavern along the southern wall so that was where Azrael began his search. Brent's map of Melrath gave him a vague picture of where he needed to go but even then, Azrael wasn't the best at reading maps. If he'd gone with Talia or Adrian, they might have been able to guide him a little but he had chosen to perform this part of the task on his own.
The sun had set on Melrath, casting darkness over the land that was more revealing to Azrael than the light. Darkvision. That was what he had decided to call it. It was strange how one moment had such a severe impact on him. He learned he was part immortal, he learned of the abilities his blood granted him, he was given a quest, and his vision was inverted so his sense of light and dark were flipped. He actually enjoyed the change but it did make him feel less motivated to go out when the sun was up. He found himself laying around all trial while he waited for the dark to come. Now that it had, it was time to get to work.
Azrael hummed to himself as he walked through Raelia, his eyes scanning the road in front of him and the signs of every building he walked passed. He figured it was more important to find taverns than it was to specifically find a tavern run by three sisters. Having been granted knowledge of his Pact domain by the spirits, Azrael knew that it was more than mere chance guiding him to find what he was looking for. Every time he looked at a bar, a feeling washed over him that either urged him to go in or urged him to stay out. At night it was much easier to find a tavern in Melrath than it was during the trial. All you had to do was follow the sound of the merriment. Azrael had walked slowly down two blocks before finding the first tavern that he felt an urge to go into. It was a quaint but decent place that consumed a full break of Azrael's night without giving him any useful leads. He played a few games of cards with a few of the other patrons but he didn't drink very much because he didn't want to allow himself to become distracted. When he left, he was forced to wonder if there had been a lead in the tavern that he simply missed due to insufficient practice hunting people.
After asking around about a tavern run by three sisters and finding nothing in a few different taverns, Azrael excused himself from them and moved on to the next watering hole. When he entered the fifth tavern he moved over to the most crowded portion of the bar and slipped onto a stool. He ordered an ale and sipped it slowly while he looked around the bar for anyone giving him the 'look.' There were always a few people in any tavern who were more than willing to forget their responsibilities for the night so they could spend it with Azrael. It had nothing to do with seduction or manipulation, he was blessed and all they were looking for was someone who they felt attracted to. Sometimes he misjudged the look but even then he found something interesting. Everyone had something interesting to say. That was one thing Azrael had become sure of since the spirit showed him how to draw out desires. Taverns were the ideal place to try it out because everyone was already a little looser.
Azrael started with the man behind the bar. If he didn't know, at the very least someone around might overhear him and maybe he'd pique their interest enough to get them to come forward. When the bartender came back around, Azrael waved him over. "Hello there! A friend told me that they'd be meeting me in a tavern near the southern wall of Raelia but I admit I'm not the best at navigating. Am I in the right place?"
"Well we're on the southern wall." The bartender replied as he set a glass down in front of Azrael. "What can I get you?" He asked impatiently. Azrael cast a glance at the bartender, locking eyes with him and remembering something that the spirits had shown him... well not the spirits... they'd created the key but it was Hart who turned it.
"I'm only here for information but I'll take an ale." Azrael replied, eyeing the man like he was some sort of test subject who Azrael was waiting to watch burst into flames. The bartender grabbed and ale and poured it into the cup for Azrael before sliding the cup across the table to the Mortalborn. When it neared Azrael, the mage took the cup in hand and continued watching the bartender.
"Well I did tell you we are on the southern wall, what else do you want to know?" The man behind the bar asked Azrael who tilted his head slightly.
"Is this place run by three sisters?" As the question left Azrael's lips, the bartender seemed to tense up a little.
"No. You've got the wrong spot." He said bitterly.
"So you know the right spot? Could you point me in the direction?" Azrael inquired, taking a slow sip of his ale before setting it on the counter and producing his map. He spread it out on the table despite the bartender shaking his head in refusal.
"Why would I shuffle my business off to another tavern?"
"I've already paid for an ale, who's to say I won't buy another once you tell me what I want to know?"
"I was born at night, boy, but it wasn't last night. I don't want to be scaring my customers off to that lot." Alright. So he wanted to do things the hard way. Azrael looked up with his head tilted ever so lightly, feeling a strange sensation pass over the two of them once eye contact was established again.
"So, tell me then, what is it that you do want?" Azrael's question seemed to take the bartender by surprise and a moment later a somewhat unnatural confusion seemed to prod at the bartender who began debating whether or not to say what was coming to his mind.
"Well I... I..."
"Don't be shy, we all have something we want. I want to find the three sisters, what do you desire?" Azrael pushed, his immortal-given ability trying to compel the bartender to reveal the secret want he seemed so unwilling to share. It wasn't easy- Azrael had been gifted knowledge of how his power worked, not experience. In the end it came down to luck. If it hadn't, he'd have gone bar to bar for the rest of the trial- walking along the southern wall to find what he was looking for. After a few trills of indecision the bartender leaned close to Balthazar and pointed to a blonde man with short, shaggy hair sitting in a corner and drinking with his friend.
"Him." The bartender said. "He's a regular, comes in at least thrice a seven-trial. He just so... oomph." Azrael turned to examine the man the bartender was talking about curiously before turning back to look at the bartender. Surprising to say the least but now Azrael had something to work with.
"Alright..." The problem was that Azrael did not find the blonde particularly attractive. Azrael wasn't quite sure what to do with the information he'd gained from his ability and ended up sitting there, looking back and forth between the bartender and the blonde, for a little longer than he should have.
"What?" The bartender asked nervously. He still wasn't sure what had come over him that compelled him to reveal his secret and as a result he was flustered.
"I just... think you could do better." Azrael decided that was a good way to cover for his long thought process.
"You really think so?" The bartender asked, slightly elated.
"Well better than him." Azrael replied. "But who am I to judge? I don't know him."
"Well... thank you."
"Any chance you're willing to tell me about the sisters?" Azrael asked as he stood up, finishing his ale and setting the cup down on the table.
"I'm sorry, I know about as much as you do when it comes to finding them." Azrael grimaced at the bartenders words and nodded his head slightly.
"Well... you have a good night then." And with a small nod, Azrael rolled up his map and left the tavern. He didn't make it more than ten steps outside before something sharp poked into his lower back and an arm wrapped around his neck.
"Why are you looking for the three sisters?" The cloaked figure standing behind Azrael with the knife pressed against his back asked in a gruff voice. Azrael wanted to say something smart but like when choosing a tavern, a feeling compelled him to answer honestly.
"I need to accept this land into my heart." Azrael responded quietly as the figure dragged him into an alley. One more shady movement... one more and I'll cut you. Azrael thought the words but he didn't say anything. He was fast with the blade in his gauntlet but the cloaked figure already had the dagger to Azrael's back. The mysterious figure seemed to consider his words for a few trills before removing the blade and sheathing it. As Azrael heard the blade slip back into it's sheath, he breathed out a sigh of relief and turned to see who'd accosted him- only to find the figure already moving down the alley.
"Come with me."
