[SWP] ACT I: The Trembling of a Distant Land

[Lasairian]

is this a natural feeling or is it just me bleeding?

The earth trembling underfoot reminded him of the pits and how they shook in the battles from the force of magic shoved around; all that pressurized power pushed and slammed down. Lasairian remembers the vibration of it when those strong enough to cause it were settling some kind of challenge. He had been there to observe so many of those moments, because a fair share of them held Caydren front and center. When magic was the first thing he had known to love, as enthralled with it as he had grown to be, it was easy enough to make sense of the fact that he might look at his mentor a certain way. As if nothing else could shine quite as brightly. Caydren had been high up among the strongest of creatures there, in the Bheo.

There was no pretty ending to the story, just that one sided situation for Lasairian to pine over for years. Hidden away, played close to the chest, because he could never give up that truth. He teased and sassed as a defense, never showing his cards, never letting it be seen as any serious thing. That wasn't a safe thing for him to do, and so he did his best to lock that part of himself away. The temptations of it had been the very reason he had fled; the fear within it of how such a thing would end for him. Lasairian did not enjoy thinking of it, and could not allow himself to be that close to the possiblity of it. That was how and why he had landed here of all places, so very far from home, devoid of magic, and different.

However, Lasairian knew that the trembling of the earth below wasn't the same as that other feeling, and it drew his curiousity forward. Which, in turn, had him pushing himself forth and towards the sea. This was the direction it seemed to be coming from, and the darkening sky as he pressed closer to the area confirmed it. The water was a dark and churning thing, and the ash in the air was getting thicker as it drifted from the far island that Lasairian had to squint to make out at all. The vibration of the sand felt wrong under his hooves, and the march of crabs held his gaze for several uncomfortable moments. Voices from the shoreline and beyond reached his ears, but he did not try to move to any of the groups. It felt too soon for any of that. So he waited, he watched, and fretted over what it might mean.

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