He couldn't take it anymore. Doing the same thing every day, stuck in the same white walls, the same corridors, with the same gloomy weather outside–ad infinitum. He had lost track of how long he'd been going at this. By now he could literally write down what he did for the past few weeks, and there'd be almost no variation. The monotony was eating away at him, it was driving him mad! Yes he was still deathly afraid of that ever-present shadow leering over his shoulder, but Auron had come to his breaking point. While his so-called employer was out, he snuck out of Antikythera and hitched a ride to Gobethio. From there he paid someone to teleport him to the furthest point of civilization from this depressing storm alley that they could. Preferably not Sidhiel or Arri. People might recognize him in the latter, while the former location had bad memories. It was also the place where he had gotten himself stuck in this repeating loop of a nightmare.

No more hours in that suffocating forge, that same-old workshop. He needed to get away from it all. A portal shimmered into existence off to the side of one of the main streets in an unfamiliar locale. Right off the bat Auron was feeling better already. Sunshine, fresh air, and a cool sea breeze welcomed him with open arms. He didn't know where he was, but he didn't care. It was the sweet, sweet taste of freedom. He decided not to put on a disguise today. He couldn't use that high elf illusion too often or people would start remembering. Now on his own again, it was time to stretch his legs and see the sights. It had been ages since he last did as he wished and went where he wanted. Altering his attire with a spell, he took his time exploring the streets.

 The structure of this place was very unusual. Most cities were sprawling and broad, but this place had buildings taller than they were wide. The positioning of the thoroughfares were extending outwards from a central point, branching off the further away it stretched. It was quaint, yet orderly. The locals themselves were in no rush and went about their business. One great surprise was the general indifference the people here had to outsiders. They were courteous yes, but they didn't seem to particularly care more than that. Unless you weren't doing business with them, they gave passing glances. A bit on the chilly side of a reception if you asked him. He had a principle of not selecting any marks on his first visit to a city. But once he grasped a general understanding of the local culture and government, he would begin considering his approach. For example, he never tried his sweet words or ploys in Egjora. He might be a common swindler, but he wasn't suicidal. Arri was also dangerous in other ways, so he stayed on his best behavior there. 

Coming to the edge of the streets, he saw steps leading down towards the ocean. Following them, instead of a beach he was met with darkened stone overgrown with sea grass and barnacles. The salt spray was strong here, and the cries of seabirds above punctuated the rolling waves. In some parts, he noticed tide pools with bleached bits of coral. How odd…didn't coral typically grow further down? He had used coral pieces in a few necklaces and rings, and the vendors said they were procured from deep-sea divers. Glancing around to see if anyone else was watching, he picked up a few chunks and pocketed them. These were more of a rosy white hue, but if he could find a red one–now that would be more than worth his time.

The more he visited Sihajja, the more he considered making it his new residence. Each time he walked through its streets he imagined what it would be like to wake up here every day and never have to leave. The trips he took lasted longer and longer, well past his original plans, and the only thing that had him going back to his usual place was that there were so many creatures there to be taken care of. True that many of them in time would be used as ingredients or parts of spells and other such crafts, but they were still his responsibility since he’d plucked them from the ocean. Or bred them, depending on the specimen.

Looking around, it’d be easy to set them up here. True that getting them the proper plants and water would be a struggle for the first few moon cycles, but once everything was settled in it would be a breeze. A gaggle of children squealed past him, the last in their line bumping against his hip accidentally. He grimaced. The only downside of Sihajja? The people. So many people. At least back at home he had his solitude. Most didn’t even realize he was there since he stayed underground for the most part on the shore. Literally.

Was Sihajja worth the nuisance that it harbored? Maybe one day in the future. There was also Kuval to consider. The whale that was burdened with the city moved as it pleased, which left him at the mercy of its will. And while he was sufficient enough to do fine on his own, whether he liked it or not -and he didn’t- an odd attachment was growing between himself and the syreni. He’d never tell him, but it was beyond the point of ignoring.

Kuval dwelled in the ocean, being what he was, so surely he could find Sihajja on his own. He shook his head and tied back his salt crystaled locks of black hair. He was used to keeping up an impromptu lifestyle: going where he wanted, when he wanted. Having roots was foreign to him, even if said roots travelled across the ocean.

Thinking about it like this only made the city feel more busy than it was, and he began to feel claustrophobic. To remedy that, he wove his way through until he was able to get to the edge of the city. The crash of waves lulled him when he was able to finally hear them without the interruption of chatter or laughter. The culture here was one of the few in Revaliir he was able to tolerate due to its high respect of the ocean and former goddess, but the fact remained that he simply did not like people.

The tidepools winked up at him, catching some of the natural light as if beckoning him over and he moved over; kneeling down once he was at a promising one. The usual fare were abounding and it so reminded him of home that he actually smiled as he dipped his fingers in and brushed them along the soft tendrils of an anemone. The smile was soon gone when he heard the footsteps of another.

Just his eyes darted over to them, and the blue vein like marks on his skin glowed brighter with his spike of annoyance. They were still a ways away from him, but that was too close for comfort. His eyes narrowed, focusing in on that head of hair. Of course it’s red, he thought to himself with mild disinterest. He tightened the strap along his chest, making sure his violin case was secure on his back before standing and brushing off his knees.

What were they doing there anyways? Again he looked over at them, watching as they pulled something from one of the pools. It looked like coral, and his lips instantly parted as he started over towards them. As he grew nearer he saw that the piece had gone pale, which meant it had long since become dislodged, but still: any color at all meant it could be coaxed back to life.

“Hey,” he called out, not bothering to hide the accusation in his tone as his teal eyes glowed brighter, “What are you doing?”

Just when he thought he could get himself some free materials, someone happened to look in his direction. This string of bad luck was all because of her, obviously. Even when he was miles away her reach never loosened. There must have been some sort of invisible curse that she had woven into the contract when he was forced to sign. He wasn't letting being discovered faze him. No, what was he thinking? He knew how to handle this. This wasn't even close to the most delicate of situations he had escaped from. Turning around with a pleasant smile, he faced the other man while discreetly transferring the coral piece he had hidden in his hand to somewhere else. "Good afternoon, sir. Lovely day isn't it? I haven't seen such wonderful weather like this in ages. It's a rare sight to see the ocean so close that you can almost taste it." 

Yes, a bit of misdirection. Obviously he wasn't going to do something foolish and act like he had been caught taking something. And he wasn't particularly lying either–he had been expecting a beach first than the tide pools by the shoreline. His hands were empty now, so if this passerby wanted to check them, he could continue as if nothing had happened. This person had a peculiar air about him. Somewhat cloying, but a bit cold. Auron would have to hone his assumptions further with more conversation. He didn't look like he was one of the locals, so the possibility of him being part of the city's law enforcement were very low. Likely another traveler like himself. Clasping his hands together into a casual pose, he was relaxed and back in his element. Handling strangers wasn't nearly as hard as managing close acquaintances.

For some reason he felt a slight chill run down his spine even though the breeze wasn't blowing. How odd. He ignored it and continued his focus on the current encounter. Now, what would be the best way to naturally remove himself from this situation… 

Unbeknownst to the fiery-haired fiend, there was a lurking presence hidden among the rocks nearly thirty meters away. Soon he would find that he hadn't gone nearly far enough to slip out from under the Steward's watchful eye. That mark which had been placed on his body was a dead giveaway for his location, even when it wasn't visible. He had sorely overestimated his capability to escape the attention of his employer. And she had followed him all the way to this solitary rock on the back of a whale. None would know if she was here, for she was hidden in plain sight–having holed up in a long shadow cast by a tall basalt stone. She could hear every word he spoke from her hiding spot with complete clarity.