A Confused Little Butterfly
Kalzasi was an awe inspiring place for a boy who'd only ever seen great cities at a distance. Clann na Feithidí Uisce had roamed great distances during Destyn's brief life to date, but they'd consciously veered away from areas more populated by fauna than flora. Always staying close to waterways, the clan of Destyn's birth had preferred the soothing sounds of nature to the din of a bustling marketplace. The recent orphan had always been fascinated by cities and loved to perch atop the tallest tree he could above a woodland canopy, to stare into the distance at the skylines of the North's great cities when they were close enough to see. He'd always found them beautiful in an exotic way. He'd been to villages, trading posts, roadside inns and other smaller settlements, but he was well aware that they were nothing like cities. One need only look at them to see that. And Kalzasi was one of the strangest sights of all. If only he might have made his first visit to the Jewel of the Northlands under better circumstances.
Such as it was, Destyn had arrived under the spectre of his life's greatest tragedy. Fortune, or perhaps some benevolent spirit, had led him from the site of the massacre to the Kalzasern airship hovering propitiously above the smoking glade. He remembered little of the journey from the South, but he knew that a puissant prince had intervened on his behalf to protect him from the agents of foul Industry that had claimed the lives of his kith and kin. He'd been taken into the hold and his wounds had been stabilised, but he didn't remember much else. Just that he hadn't been the only patient resting in that improvised infirmary.
Upon arriving in Kalzasi proper, he was immediately conducted to The Tranquil Gardens hospital, where surgery could be performed on his shattered leg and he could be screened for other conditions. Apart from a few cuts and bruises, no other physical damage was found. The vast majority of the trauma was emotional. Any sane person who'd endured what Destyn had would be a wreck, and he was no different. He'd been held for observation and assessed by counselors, who ultimately determined that he posed no immediate risk to himself, but that he should be placed under the care of a patron and monitored for a month or so.
Destyn's saviour prince had visited him toward the end of his hospital stay and made arrangements to set him up with an influential patron house, which would serve as his caretakers until he was back on his feet- Literally, as he left the Tranquil Gardens with a crutch under one arm. As he limped out under the bright, Searing sun, Destyn was greeted by a tall, dark-haired man whom he belatedly recognised as the other afflicted party who'd shared his room on the airship from the South.
"Hail." He rasped wearily. Though he recognised the large man's face, he didn't know his name and didn't really expect to be remembered anyway.
"I'm told you were sent by the, um..." He paused, trying to recall the foreign term through the haze of painkillers and weltschmerz, "Shinsei is it? They said I'm to be lodged at the estate of a House L... Lekivian?"
2 Searing 121
Such as it was, Destyn had arrived under the spectre of his life's greatest tragedy. Fortune, or perhaps some benevolent spirit, had led him from the site of the massacre to the Kalzasern airship hovering propitiously above the smoking glade. He remembered little of the journey from the South, but he knew that a puissant prince had intervened on his behalf to protect him from the agents of foul Industry that had claimed the lives of his kith and kin. He'd been taken into the hold and his wounds had been stabilised, but he didn't remember much else. Just that he hadn't been the only patient resting in that improvised infirmary.
Upon arriving in Kalzasi proper, he was immediately conducted to The Tranquil Gardens hospital, where surgery could be performed on his shattered leg and he could be screened for other conditions. Apart from a few cuts and bruises, no other physical damage was found. The vast majority of the trauma was emotional. Any sane person who'd endured what Destyn had would be a wreck, and he was no different. He'd been held for observation and assessed by counselors, who ultimately determined that he posed no immediate risk to himself, but that he should be placed under the care of a patron and monitored for a month or so.
Destyn's saviour prince had visited him toward the end of his hospital stay and made arrangements to set him up with an influential patron house, which would serve as his caretakers until he was back on his feet- Literally, as he left the Tranquil Gardens with a crutch under one arm. As he limped out under the bright, Searing sun, Destyn was greeted by a tall, dark-haired man whom he belatedly recognised as the other afflicted party who'd shared his room on the airship from the South.
"Hail." He rasped wearily. Though he recognised the large man's face, he didn't know his name and didn't really expect to be remembered anyway.
"I'm told you were sent by the, um..." He paused, trying to recall the foreign term through the haze of painkillers and weltschmerz, "Shinsei is it? They said I'm to be lodged at the estate of a House L... Lekivian?"
