Welcome to Gaia! ::

After his expulsion, Amalric had traveled significantly. At the outset of it all, he couldn’t have said what exactly he was out for other than finding some way of using his studies to make his way in the world. The foreign arrivals from the previously unheard of ‘Belrea’ had been entirely unanticipated, but an awakening of sorts as it so happened. Since then, he had made his way across the land, learning what he could of their impact so far, helping where he might, and recording everything he had opportunity to.

Daurelts may have expelled him, but he had been at the top of his classes at the time, and if he could bring back valuable research, he was sure there was a value to that in someone’s eye. In the meantime, it wasn’t too difficult to make his way with the locals by selling labor, knowledge, or magic.

Throughout all of it, he continued to think back on the first of the travelers he’d met, their initial discussions and eventual agreement to meet again, that he might see her land for himself. The concept of going alone was tempting, but too much for him each time the opportunity arose. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know the real state of their reliability. He didn’t know anyone on the other side.

Except her.

He wasn’t sure in retrospect how she would know how to find him if he ever returned, but he had spoken to her at some length of Zena, Zidel, and it’s academy therein. As it happened, on this particular winter afternoon, Amalric had just made his way to the capitol for the first time in what must have been at least a year not but a handful of days prior. The academy had been interested. A room had been arranged for him and a time scheduled for him to meet with one of the deans. He was not anticipating company now, however.

A knock sounded at his door.

Amalric looked up from his journal. “Come in? It’s open.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the door creaked. A fairly young iceling, probably a student or assistant, peeked in. “Mr. Belwater?”

“Amalric,” he said as he stood, “is more than enough.”

“Someone is here to see you. A strange looking…man? I believe they’re a foreigner…he claims to have met you some time ago?”

After a description of the visitor, Amalric slid his chair back, stepping out to leave his room. He hadn’t recently spoken with any Belreans that he expected to have back around, but he recognized the description of them, and as he had met a decent number now, he didn’t see any reason not to see who it was.

Oh, Fritz! That’s what it was. Fritz Galgaway.

Amalric didn’t know anyone named Fritz, and the surname alone wasn’t immediately familiar, but for some reason combined they sounded peculiarly like something he ought to recognize. But then, since the visitor had asked for him personally, he suspected his questions would be cleared up soon. As he made it down the steps and hall, into the main foyer of this wing, it wasn’t difficult to spot the visitor. He ignored the skittering of feet as his presence apparently deterred someone else already there.

And admittedly, there was a period even as he approached where he didn’t know who he was dealing with yet. The young man — for that was what he had been told to expect — had gravitated to the fire, and the glow illuminated the orange skin of long fingers—and added a fiery glint to otherwise very short hair. It was especially striking here, amongst a culture where many if not most kept a decent amount of hair on their heads for practical reasons if nothing else. He looked average height, not much shorter than Amalric, and though his jacket added a certain squareness to his figure, he wasn’t broad shouldered. Narrow, fit, and dressed in brass and leather.

At approximately the same time as the word ‘hot’ flit through his headspace, he felt like he would have remembered meeting—and then, as he came close enough to see visitor’s face longer and process, he realized that he did. He wasn’t certain whether to feel abashed, amused, surprised, ecstatic, or a combination thereof, and ended up in the latter category regardless.

“‘Fritz Galgaway,’” he greeted, his eyes scanning the woman he hadn’t seen in—how long had it been now? And yet, here she stood, keeping her promise to a ‘stranger.’ “You’ve come so far — are you warm enough? Have you eaten?” A sea of questions was possible, but given that his guest had just arrived, through the blistering cold no less, it seemed only polite to focus on the basics first.

And you, Amalric Belwater, are a fool.

“I suppose I might have hoped for a ‘warmer’ welcome from someone who came such a ways to see me, but under the circumstances…” He couldn’t help but be pleased. So: “It is cold,” he conceded. “And I appreciate you putting up with my foolery to make the trip, but to be clear if I had any part in designing the original geographic schematics, it would have been further south. The view just isn’t quite worth it. But it is lovely at times.”

At the request, though, he nodded, and managed in record time to come into possession of some hot cider—it had been apparently guessed by one of those who had already encountered her that something warming might be appreciated beyond a fire. He returned with it steaming.

“Maritza…” It wasn’t that he had forgotten her name, of course, only that upon seeing her true identity, the jumbled version he’d gotten to begin with had become all the more amusing. Now, however, after a moment to process, he found he was still impressed she had made it. Despite the initial promise, it had been no small feat of a goal, and he hadn’t known whether to ever expect they’d find one another again. But she had. “Truly, I am impressed. What have you been busy with? Has the flight technology continued to improve? I’ve been traveling much myself and attempting to learn what I can of it here from those of your people who make the journey, but admittedly it is still beyond anything anyone here understands—still-”

Well, he oughtn’t babble. She had only just made it in and it was at least possible she wouldn’t immediately want an entourage of questions—though Amalric did feel an almost giddy anticipation in his curiosity. So much was somehow coming into place, whereas just two years ago things had felt they couldn’t get much worse.

He wasn’t about to complain at present.

Amalric blinked. “Oh, no, of course not!” Despite it being clear that Maritza was not serious in her offense, Amalric found himself flushing regardless as he shook his head. “I am…beyond impressed, and flattered, and surprised…” He studied her with a more contemplative seriousness, and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

At the commentary regarding dress, however, he snorted, blue eyes lit a spark of amusement. “It is the fashion,” he promised. “We northerners like to make ourselves indistinguishable from heaps of dead animal skin and then roll ourselves down the mountainside to see who reaches base the fastest…” He didn’t know of anyone who had done precisely that, but children did enjoy tumbling down hills and it didn’t feel like too far of an overall stretch. “Personally, I prefer to remain indoors, particularly when the weather becomes obnoxious…which is most days, in Zena.”

When the woman spoke of what she’d been up to, Amalric listened with intent. He couldn’t say he was surprised by any of the revelations, and it was encouraging to hear there had been progress—and she was doing well. As she stood and moved, Amalric watched. It was an open enough space, he didn’t have to follow directly at her heels despite the temptation.

It's a concept that will be forever beyond you, no matter what you hear from travelers, because you haven't tasted it for yourself.

Amalric supposed he believed it. He knew he would need to make the trip himself some day. Learn first hand. Experience it. So far, however, it had been beyond him, even at his most curious, and he had satisfied himself with setting the foundation by studying and speaking with those who had. Now that his closest individual connection to the far country was here before him, however…

Perhaps all that would change.

For now, though, he found himself blinking at the latter comment, his mental path taking a focussed turn there instead. Had he not…? “I, ah…” He cleared his throat. “Well, as I had told you I’m sure, I did study here. Previously. But it wasn’t…whenever I met you, I had already been expelled. Did I not mention that? I was traveling at the time, and after encountering you in Sauti and learning of your countryfolk, I spent time moving between villages there and later into Tale, before heading back up through eventually to Zena again, tracking the influence of information, other arrivals that came after yours, and compiling everything I could gather from your advancements. I have actually…”

His ears warmed at the admittance, stuck again by how fortunate the timing was.

“I have actually only fairly recently arrived here again myself…” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her he’d been expelled. Surely that would have been relevant information if they’d seriously entertained the thought of meeting again—but then, perhaps somehow at the time it had not come up. It wasn’t as though it was the most flattering of memories. He shook his head. “After making what I could of my work, and organizing my notes into something I considered more presentable to those who’d find it of interest, I returned to the capitol and the academy in hopes I might be given a research grant…funds to back travel to Belrea and report what I learn.”

Frosted white pastry balls. Amalric could see it.

And then-

Expelled?

He cringed. So, he hadn’t told her. How had he not told her? It seemed as that would have made it into his explanation. Certainly he could be asked for at Daurelts, and he opened his mouth to correct that they probably would or might know where he was at the very least if anyone did, which was probably why he listed it as a better contact source than anywhere else. Instead, he cleared his throat, face warming as reliably as a teapot until he was standing there, pink, shaking his head and clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Yes- I mean, no- That is—to some of that, yes, I was expelled, and I’m sure I would have thought it pertinent information if I thought about it at all I don’t know why I wouldn’t have brought it up and I’m sure it would have been wiser if I did I suppose I suspected it was almost a given I wasn’t studying there any longer at immediate present since I wasn’t there but I did intend to be back and I did suspect they’d know where I was even if I hadn’t yet, as there would be a significant amount of time between and I planned on being in contact with them again far sooner than anyone else who might have been able to provide a contact such as my aunt and uncle whom I still haven’t spoken with by the way, but I-”

Amalric exhaled a withering sigh, and managed to look appropriately chastised.

“You could…you could wring my neck, if you thought that was…necessary. I’m sure I deserve it, I won’t deny it. But, I- I am here, and I have been here a number of days, and even if you had come sometime a month or more sooner or later, they would have known my whereabouts as I have been in contact with them, and-” He managed to look sheepishly pleased with himself despite all. “I did get that research grant. It’s part of why I’m still here, I’ll be discussing more specifics with the school board and may have exactly what I need to travel with some directive…”

Which still, unfortunately, left the question: Why were you expelled anyway?

He tucked hair behind his ear. “Ah. Well, so, as for the- As for-” He cleared his throat. “Mm. I…punched someone. At the time it all felt very…” He moved a hand vaguely, “…natural and necessary. In retrospect it may not have been the wisest of my life’s choices but…” He felt it necessary to point out, “…if I hadn’t been expelled I would not have been in Sauti when we met. So apparently there was a fair deal of…” He eyed her, “…good dumb luck in our favor.”

“I—yes,” he murmured, “that’s all. I realize it’s not…the most exciting, though I’m rather glad there wasn’t death or explosion involved, frankly, then there might have been more reason for it. I hadn’t ever actually been involved in a scuffle and he wasn’t even hurt-” Amalric frowned as he realized he was allowing himself to become cross with the situation all over again. It had been years. Things were better now.

He puffed out lightly, abashed.

“I maintained an almost perfect scholastic record beforehand, if I do say so myself. And it wasn’t even the most impressive of punches. I am sure he moved on in a handful of days, but it became very clear to me just the same that being unwelcome among them had escalated to being intolerable, so…I departed to make my own study, and I met you, among other things.”

It had been foolish, and Amalric still looked back with frustration—but perhaps not regret, any longer. And at the flick to his arm and tease, he found himself smiling in spite of himself.

“Those are the details that remain to be hashed out,” he said. “I’ve presented what I have so far and given a general sense of what I would like to do—at its most basic, my highest curiosity is our divergence point of magical and technical advancements and what might be done to systematically bring ourselves up to speed beginning with the education system and our current foundation of understanding. I have the time and am willing to pursue whatever particular avenues they find most of interest, and exactly what, how much, and how long will depend upon a number of decisions beginning…tomorrow, when I meet with the full advisory board.”

At length, he shrugged. “The step after that is to make sure I have all I need in accordance with their request, determine my budget…” He glanced to her. “And find a flight.”

I thought that the wind and ice people of Tendaji got along well?

Amalric attempted not to cough, and instead made out with something of a soft grunt against his fist. It was—true, in a sense. They shared a council, and if he were earnest with himself they likely shared the best relations of any two nations on Tendaji. Still.

“The icelings tend to think, though of course not all of them share the sentiment, that they are…above, in a way, the nomad Sautians. My family was…in a way of decent roots, decently wealthy among the wind people and uncharacteristically stationary and stable. My aunt and uncle, whom I was raised by, are cobblers and run a successful business such that they could afford to…show off my magical talent and capacity for higher learning. But particularly at Daurelts there are few blonde heads, and I was a bit of a sight. I didn’t have great wealth to my name or anything to show I was anything more than an outsider who had snuck in somehow. I suspect or at least hope, though, that it will become a less infrequent occurrence the more time goes on…”

You’ll need to speak with the scholars in Valmon…

This, Amalric knew, was exactly the sort of direction he needed, and he listened intently as Maritza spoke. And he couldn’t possibly have asked for better than what he heard—on every level. He supposed he needn’t be surprised, she had seemed like a miracle of information and opportunity last he had met with her, but to have it all before him now with the very real prospect of taking action on the chance this time—it was another matter entirely than it once had been, and thrilling to new degrees.

She lived in the capitol, and knew it well.

Reminder of the need for payment was not unanticipated, but hopefully only a manageable complexity. He hoped to get enough from the academy’s advisory board to fund at least the base costs of the trip. Still, even at their most generous he didn’t suppose he expected much excess for luxury, particularly given that, despite his personal demonstration of what research he could do of his own volition, he was ‘untested’ and even established as connections were now he had to imagine a trip to Belrea was still considered a risky venture in some respects.

He blinked.

Housework?

“I’m very good with it,” he said, and it wasn’t even a stretch. “Not that our home was especially large, but when I was young all of us were expected to learn and make ourselves useful from the basics to whatever else we aimed for.” Even as a young child, he couldn’t remember a time when he and his cousins were not being directly involved in chores, from clothes washing, cleaning, drying and folding, to sweeping to cooking to animal tending. Not that any of it was complicated, but he was aware the ‘skill’ wasn’t impressed upon everyone nor did it come naturally to all.

“If…there was space— of course I don’t mean to presume, but I could tend to whatever needed to be and be very grateful for room. I’ll aim to cover my costs as much as possible with the grant I get for research, but admittedly I do not know how much to expect them to pay out of pocket and it never hurts to be conservative—how shortly do you expect to be returning?”

…something of an inspiration.

Amalric flushed, pleased on the one hand that it seemed to make sense to her and was actually something she could relate to in her own culture, and then abashed by the following compliments. “Well, it doesn’t excuse my behavior, nor am I pleased to have been expelled, but…I do think I learned much while I was here and I have moved on since, so I do hope to make the most of it and a showing of myself in the end.”

All of that would be furthered in Belrea.

If you can cook and do some amount of cleaning…

Amalric could feel the bubble of anticipation that came with the offer to follow, and he was nodding all but before she finished, a certain giddiness making him eager to have it already underway, despite all there was to do beforehand. “Absolutely, of course. I’ve cooked, washed, cleaned, tended animals—my cousins and I shared housekeeping tasks and my aunt was insistent and regimented in doling them out and seeing to it that they were accomplished satisfactorily. She made certain to vary up the divvying out so that no one was stuck with the same chores always.”

They had worked on a rotation. Now that he thought back on it, he had to wonder if that was normal, but it certainly had some perks at least. Regardless, Amalric couldn’t think of a better arrangement from his own perspective. While occasionally tedious he didn’t mind housework in the least, and in exchange for everything else he needed, free room and board, materials, company, advice—it was perfect.

Roughly a week.

Amalric stared.

“A…” He cleared his throat. “One week-?”

It was—

Well, he had to first convince his racing mind not to panic and then—then it did seem hopefully manageable. It wasn’t actually as though there ought to be much negotiation left to do do, and he could inform them time was of the essence and he had an open opportunity. Beyond that, it was just packing and planning-

There was a lot to make sure all the pieces fell into place the way he wanted. But if he was timely, surely he could make this work.

He drew a breath and nodded. “I suppose…I will just have to make it happen.” At ‘if you have a faster way to get to Sauti’ however, he glanced to her, curious. “How did you get here?”