• Closed • A Blind Ferryman Topic is solved

[Kalortah]

Blind Oarsman and the Albatross

Kalortah rested in his bed in the Temple of Delroth, a windowed suite that they'd afforded him, in due course because of his high status in the estimation of their patron. It wasn't far from the Golden Gate of Yaralon, and the great Harbor beyond, so the sound of seabirds wasn't particularly unusual. Except, something about this aquatic avian seemed familiar. It almost sounded... like...

The avriel lifted his head from his pillow, and gazed up at the stone window's ledge, which was open to let fresh air in. On it, was perched none other than Boss Gosling. How had the goose found him? He thought he'd left him safe and sound in the Aerie?

Boss Gosling squawked, and flapped its wings imperiously, demanding attention. Kalortah rose to kneel on the bed, and frowned as he listened to the meaning of the bird's sounds. It was not easy to interpret, even for one who could speak with birds, but Gosling appeared very flustered, perhaps even disappointed. Eventually when all of the rigmarole of his greivances were addressed and relayed, Kalortah got to hear the meat of his purpose here.

He had come to deliver a message from a blind ferryman, who wanted to meet with Kalortah. Kalortah winced, "Why should I speak with this crippled sailor?"

Boss Gosling took on a very aggressive stance, charging at Kalortah and whacking him in the arm with his bill. It continued its incessantly imperious chatter, until Kalortah took heed. The location for this meeting and the circumstances made Kalortah wonder for just a moment. He wanted to meet on the open seas beyond the Gold Gate, on a large raft-skiff that he was standing upon. Kalortah furrowed his brow. But something in the wind, a wordless assurance convinced him that it was worth his while. Plus he didn't feel like dealing with an irate goose.

"Very well, I'll meet them. I'll search for this skiff..."

Boss Gosling squawked again, telling him to look out for the blind oarsman, and a raft with a sail upon it, stood on buoyant barrels. Then, he was most rudely off to his own devices. Kalortah hoped he would return to safety, or else the Aerie.

There was little for it, but to get dressed, so that was what Kalortah did, in addition to making himself up to look as presentable as possible. It wasn't a hard task for one of his brilliance and beauty, but he liked to take care all the same, for the sake of his patron who outshone so many of his followers.



About a break later, Kalortah took to the air, spreading his red wings against the wind and flying fast over the Golden Gate, and toward the coast, where many ships were at anchor. It took some looking, but he saw a lonely oarsman on a dinghy, a raft with a singular sail above it.

He flew toward that raft, and with a graceful touch down, folded his wings behind him. He inclined his head toward the blind oarsman, who had a shaggy head of bleached hair, and rheumy eyes. He didn't look directly at Kalortah, as he appeared to be blind anyway, but smiled at the sound of his footfalls and his subsequent greeting.

"You there, I've received a summons to this raft..." The avriel turned his head, cocking it to the side. On the raft, was a small shack, barely adequate for one person.

"Aye, yes ah..." The rheumy-eyed mariner nodded, looking down at the waters as he set his oar to the side. "We've been expectin ya. We're here to have a word..."

This said, he stepped to the edge of the raft, and clapped the blind oarsman on the back. With that, he said one last thing, that left Kalortah positively dumbstruck. "It's so nice isn't it, to have three generations reunited after so long?"

Kalortah frowned, what was meant by that. Surely the blind ferryman couldn't be any relation of his, unless he was some disgraced example of their kind, stripped of his wings or else a halfriel... Three? Kalortah counted the child, who he surmised must have been his own get by

Lotema

... and then himself and Lotema. Where was the third... He wasn't suggesting that he was Kalortah's father. No that couldn't be, he wasn't an avriel!

The bilnd oarsman croaked out a few words, low and soft in his unassuming tone, "Your beloved can tell you how we found her, and the

babe

. That story is not mine to share."

Kalortah turned to the oarsman, and furrowed his brow. Something seemed oddly familiar about him. He'd never felt this sensation before, of belonging to something or someone. But he perceived some kind of connection to this ragged traveler. What could it be? Three generations.... was that...

[The Wanderer]

The Ocean Father

The blind oarsman tilted his head forward slightly as if to nod when Kalortah seemed to be figuring it out. A student of the arts, Kalortah would eventually notice that the blind man's eyes were not grey or washed from damage- they were silver. A competent enough actor, he might even recognize that this 'blind man' seemed to move around with a decent understanding of his surroundings. The blind oarsman inclined his head toward the child, Woe, and then gestured to himself to make it clearer.

"Ya two should talk." The Great Wave said, referring to Kalortah and the mother of his child. "Then us." U'frek's head tilted again as if he'd heard something and he looked up to the sky for a few trills before his gaze settle back on the horizon. U'frek moved closer to Lotema and, with her approval, ruffled the small child's hair. It was the same color as his own. What wonderful odds? He wanted Kalortah to come to the conclusion on his own. He didn't want to take that away from him, but he was trying to guide him to realize it. "When ya ready, grab an oar."

U'frek moved back to the spot he'd been sitting when Kalortah landed and he took his oar into his hands. There was space across from him for another to sit and an oar there to be taken up. However, U'frek did not think himself more important than Kalortah's reunion. Safe passage for his extended family was worth the journey. "Take ya time, I like the sea here."

[Kalortah]

Family Colors

There was a definite affiniity at play with this strange oarsman. And Kalortah couldn't deny somme familiarity. Something that ran deep, as if he'd met time and again but never quite met eye to eye. Always something on the periphery. He remembered Zana's assertion that he was born of an Immortal, and not his mortal avriel father. This alone was cause for alarm, though there'd been little time to ruminate over it then or since. Now it was all coming back to hit him.

Still, could this humble oarsman be an Immortal of sufficient caliber to sire a magnificent specimen such as Kalortah? Well perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. Kal wasn't as shallow and petty as he had been in arcs past. He was still vain, proud, and at times arrogant. He was not stuffed up and full of undeserved conceit. He knew where his strengths and weaknesses were. Sometimes he was too well aware of them.

Nevertheless, he did as the oarsman bade him to do, and took Lotema and the child into his arms. As he did so, he willed a dramatic change to his own coloring. Over the next half break where Kalortah silently embraced his wayward family, his red wings took on a heterochroma. The right wing turned predominantly golden, with turquoise accents, while the other took on greenish turquoisse with golden accents. His hair turned to spun gold, while his skin remained as fair as it had been.

His white and gold robes remained the same as they had been upon his departure from the Temple of Delroth in Yaralon.

He let the change come, and as he did, the child as yet unnamed reached up to play with one of the golden feathers that had molted off of his wings. He gurgled, and clutched the small golden feather to his chest.

"You keep that then." Kalortah said softly.

After the moment with his family, he set down next to the oarsman, and took an oar. "Where are we going/" He asked the oarsman, "And have we met? You seem familiar..." Was this man truly an Immortal, come to visit Kalortah? He'd never had such an auspicious audience before, but was honored nonetheless. And was it possible that this stranger was in some way related to him? Was that what had been implied in the ocean-goer's remark?

[The Wanderer]

The Ocean Father

The blind oarsman didn't move or fiddle around much while Kalortah sorted things with those who had come. He seemed to sit comfortably in his spot, looking out at nothing over the water. He was calm like the tide around them. He took slow breaths and let a hand fall into the water every once in a while. He did nothing to disturb or disrupt the time Kalortah wanted with his child. A small grin flashed across the oarsman's face when he noticed Kalortah's change but it was insignificant given everything else happening. Perhaps it was just him, but in the grand scheme of everything he thought moments like this deserved the room to breathe. It was not every trial that families were reunited.

Kalortah eventually joined the oarsman and when he did, the blind man seemed to become a little more relieved. Even things such as himself could feel nervous in the situation they'd come to. The situation he'd engineered so that he could meet someone he'd wanted to meet for a while now. Kalortah asked where they were going and the blind man began to answer but before he could, Kalortah asked a second question. The blind man turned his head slightly and then shook it. "Sadly, no. Not till now. A fault on my end." He said mournfully.

His tone turned as quick as the tide and he gestured out towards the water before them. The gesture was broad and sweeping in a way that it made it seem like he really was blind. As a result. it was almost like he was making a joke. Who asked a perceived blind man where they were going? "Just take 'er out a little. Into the sea so we can say what needs sayin in peace." The distance would give them privacy but both the distance and the water would give the blind oarsman a little more comfort. Neither of them could help what they were and wanted to be. He could only hope to give Kalortah some guidance now.

He would row with Kalortah, or he would row alone if the Avriel decided himself above the task. They didn't have to go far, only far enough that they'd feel the pull of the tide dragging their small boat back and forth. The political push and pull of the sea would rock them comfortably forever but never truly impact them as they went about their talk.

Only then, once they were out at sea, did the blind oarsman actually look at Kalortah. The change was deliberate and forced, but Kalortah would recognize the intent behind it. It was like if Kalortah willingly dressed in rags for someone he cared about. The oarsman was used to looking out and off into the distance. He was used to being perceived as blind and absorbing more than most saw regardless. He chose to look at Kal. His gaze was not unnerving in any way, not that such a simple seeming individual could have ever unnerved someone like Delroth's servant.

"I've been wantin' to see ya for some time now but never- Ophiriel wouldn't've-" The oarsman seemed to grow unsure of what he was saying and stopped himself. How was he going to say this? How could he? "I'm sorry. I should'a told you before. I-" He seemed uncomfortable saying it aloud but a trill passed and he seemed to settle like water in a glass. He looked toward Kalortah again and could see the thoughts forming, even if he couldn't read them. The blind oarsman took a breath and said "It warmed my heart to see ya with yer family. I'd hope to see all my children and loved happy again." A slight pause followed.

"What did ya mother tell ya about yer father?"

[Kalortah]

Kalortah was many things. He was arrogant, he was haughty, he was vengeful toward those that wronged him, and he was cruel at times. But what he was not, was unfeeling. His passions ran deep, and so as he enjoyed the time with Lotema and his child, he felt a strange sensation wash over him. It felt like pride, and relief all rolled up in one singular heartbeat.

He decided he liked it, try as he might to identify the feeling he'd never experienced.

So when they'd taken the small vessel out to sea, and Kalortah did join him as he felt somewhat obliged to this mariner. He joined him the pulling of the oars, as it'd get them out faster than otherwise, and still Kalortah felt mollified by this ferryman's generosity.

Once they were far out to sea, the man turned to Kalortah with his blind eyes. But it felt like he could see. Kalortah had the avriel eyes, and so could sense movement on the wind. Was it possible the old sea father could sense things in a different way to most biqaj or humans? It was possible. Probable even, given that Lotema herself was no navigator. Perhaps something happened to biqaj when they lost their eyesight, and they retained their navigational sense? Either way...

"Ophiriel..." Kalortah's eyes narrowed fractionally. This biqaj was testing him, taking his gratitude almost to the point where it tested his patience. "How do you know my mother?"

Kalortah was quite unused to the way humans interacted with each other and if there was subtext to this exchange, he did not recognize it. He was willing to give this old sea father the benefit of the doubt because of the delivery he'd made to Kalortah, but his patience had its limits, which were normally quite less than he'd already granted.

"My mother told me nothing of my father." Kalortah stated, defaulting to Avriel blunt honesty. "I didn't know my own avriel 'father' wasn't until Zana Delroth told me that I was mortalborn. So no, nothing."

He felt quite put out now, and somewhat stranded on the boat with this old sea father. But of course he was not stranded, and could fly at any time. Something he couldn't identify was planting him in the seat of the ferry, and he refused to budge. There was something very compelling about the sea father, his forthright and inappropriate questions notwithstanding.

"Why do you ask, old man?" Kalortah demanded, crossing his arms as the oars rested against the boat.

[The Wanderer]

The Ocean Father

The oarsman gave a sad smile when he heard that Kalortah hadn't been told anything of his father until one of Delroth's told him. He wasn't disappointed exactly but a little saddened. He should have expected it. It was strange to the oarsman, that while so many told tall tales about him, none of them had come to the ear of the Avriel sitting before him. All the same he could sense his companions patience was wearing thin. The pointed question about why he'd asked and his physical expressions gave that away.

"I met ya mother durin one of my sister's angry nights." The blind oarsman said as his gaze seemed to shift back to the sea and his memories. "Her wing was hurt. I helped her outta the sea. I protected her while she got better. We grew very close over time until she left to protect me. I never told her what I am. I thought it would be better if she didn' know." The oarsman took a breath. He was no storyteller and that much was clear. He didn't like being the center of attention but he'd brought this on himself. "Kalortah, yer my son. I am U'frek."

The Guided One let the words sit in the air for a few moments and while the oars were not moving, the water seemed to be shifting their small boat back to shore. He wouldn't hold Kalortah hostage on the boat if he responded negatively to what had been said. He had every right to feel however he wanted to feel about it but U'frek wanted to meet him and to give him some small advice. However he didn't want to bombard the young one with information, so he waited to see what his son did next.

[Kalortah]

Tears in the Ocean Mist

This oarsman set Kalortah ill at ease. There was something in the depth of his rheumy eyes that suggested… The avriel didn’t know what. But then he was not a mere avriel. He was mortalborn. Perhaps this individual was also? Or…

Then the stranger admitted to having met his mother. He told a story, about having fished her out of the waters when her wing was injured during one of his sister’s storms. His sister’s. Was this… Could it be U’frek? Why would U’frek summon him. Kalortah had no discernable connection to the Immortal, apart from the story he was pitching. He…

He was his father? Kalortah let that sink in, and sink into the seat of the ferry as it took them out to deeper waters. The winds blew harder as they reached the turbulence beyond the Golden Gate, and the harbour. Yet Kalortah wasn’t troubled by the whipping winds. By dint of his blessing, he was spared the worst of their force, blowing into his hair.

“I’m… your son.” The mortalborn had considered briefly who might be his Immortal parent. Whether it was his mother who’d had him, or his father. No, his father would’ve taken him out to sea and drowned him if that had been known to him. His father was an avriel supremacist of typical temperament. He couldn’t abide half-breeds, whether they be divine or otherwise.

And his mother… always more soft-hearted than him. He could believe that she would bear a half-breed child to term, and try to pass it off as full-blooded avriel. All at once, his memories were flooded with remembered trauma. Of having his instrument collection smashed by his father, when Kalortah refused to join the soldiers of Athart’s military, for training. He was always a smaller avriel, always weaker, more interesting in ‘crooning to drunkards than shedding the blood of Athart’s enemies’. A wave of new resentment rushed through Kalortah, and unfortunately for U’frek, he was the only one to bear the brunt of it.

“You abandoned me. You are an Immortal. You could’ve taken me with you, instead I lived and grew into that hateful place.” Kalortah frowned, tears forming under his eyes as he remembered all of that and more, and to compound it, his real father even knowing he’d sired a child, wouldn’t and didn’t want him enough to keep for his self. “Why now?”

Kalortah turned his head aside, as he withdrew into himself. He used the amulet around his neck, to change his form, into that of Milian Le Moigne. A human of auburn hair and unremarkable appearance, for the most part. He did it to feel smaller, to shed his avriel nature for a moment, if only a moment.

“Do you have any idea what you abandoned me to?” Kalortah had grown by leaps and bounds over the past arcs, since departing his hateful home city. “I could have been better, different under your wings, but you left me to grow into that terrible place.”

The mortalborn shook his head, trying to understand but failing despite himself. “Tell me… No, nevermind.”

He took a ragged breath, and a sigh. Then he began to sing a somber song, one of his older ones that he’d’ sung at the docks as a young adolescent, wondering what lay beyond the humid shores of Athart, beyond those blue waters. He mimicked his father U’frek’s voice, as he sang it.

“Upon the sea, beyond the Crescent,
Again a peel o’ winds sing to the north.
The storm raged east, beside the crest
The gull does sing, to claim the mess.”

He looked meaningfully at U’frek for just a moment, but then a strong feeling compelled him to turn away. He continued:

“I felt the gale, beyond the Crescent,
From evil head winds, rushing to the south.
To U’frek’s Cauldron, they fly.
From Slaver’s Corridor, they hide.”

The verse and lyrics were short, but repeated to show off the voice more than anything. It was an early work of Kalortah, but one he felt was appropriate to convey the emotions, and the influences that had painted his artistry since growing up in the Avriel city. And to glimpse a vision of the person he might’ve been. Sinless, pure, and good-hearted. Kalortah wanted that more than anything, he was greedy for purity and beauty and absolution.

But it could not be his, until he made his wish known to Delroth. But Delroth was not here. Kalortah had tasks to do, to promote the Immaculate Lord of the Skies. Even as Kalortah languished with his father, the Humble Ocean Father, on his dingy.

“Why.” Kalortah only asked, as he wore the face of Milian Le Moigne. He didn’t want to show his true face’s anguish.

[The Wanderer]

The Ocean Father

The immortal's thousand yard stare did a lot to conceal his thoughts on his son's reaction. Blind eyes never looked at you, they looked through you. Kalortah let loose his resentment and U'frek bore it without hesitation. Whether he felt he deserved it or not was unclear but he didn't seem upset by what his son said.

"I shoulda." U'frek said. His voice quivered slightly when he spoke but his endless stare lingered. "I shoulda taken ya both." He let out a shallow breath. "But it wouldna been right either. Shelter from a storm in life is good... but shelter from all Idalas? That makes life a maelstrom. We sail in different waters. Harsh as they may be, they made ya the sailor you are." His tone was soft but inviting while his words were symbolic more than literal. The rhythm had a pull like the tide to one with ears to discern it. His words may have sounded like he was trying to justify the choices he'd made before the Forging, but he was only explaining the choices that he had been a part of making. He wouldn't make another a villain to make himself seem noble. That was not the right path.

The Ocean Father listened to the song. His eyes shut slowly as if to block out the rest of the world so he could focus on the beautiful voice before him. The words stung in many ways but U'frek seemed only to hear the beauty in what Kalortah had created. Something he created free of his father's influence. Something pure. Something that was his own- an aurora in a new sky.

In the end, the question was asked again. 'Why?'

U'frek opened misty eyes and they seemed to settle entirely on his son again. "Ya asked me first, 'why now?'" The Ocean Father would not ignore that question, even after the song. "All I can say is now, I can help. I want ta." His silver and misty eyes seemed to focus deeply on his son and yet they still seemed to look far beyond his figure. "I've come because ya don't need a dad, and I don't deserve the station, but I wanna help ya."

"Ya don't need it. Ya never have. I couldna been more proud to see that." Praise felt hollow given what he thought his son felt about him, but the truth was what it was. "My thoughts may be worth less than a bent nel but... I think ya perfect as ya are. Never stop tryna improve but... never forget that despite how ya might feel, ya are one of the most..." U'frek stopped himself. Maybe it was not his place to say what he wanted. Maybe it wasn't what his son needed to hear. He wanted to say it, but he wanted to help his son more than he wanted to serve himself. "Sorry. Ya don't need me tellin' ya how... spectacula' ya are."

"My son, The Phoenix of the Unexplored Sky, ya quick and I can help ya now. Think hard. Anythin' ya wanna ask- 'bout me or anythin' else- anyone else- ask." There was a moment where U'frek laid a title on his son and the strange dialect he spoke with seemed to drop entirely. It sounded as if he was pronouncing a name in the middle of a sentence while speaking a foreign language.

They were nearing the docks again. The time the immortal could spend where he wanted to be was ending. The time for guidance was closing- but he'd receive it either way. U'frek would not do what he had done before. He would not claim success for the glory his son had achieved because it was not remotely his own... but he wanted to help his son now.

While he still could.