[colour=#C0C0C0][h2]Nathaniel Stormlight [/h2][/colour]
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[colour=#C0C0C0] Location:[/colour] The streets of Dawnhaven. 
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Following the direction given by the bystander, Nathaniel trudged through the thick, powdery snow that blanketed the ground, each step a laborious effort. The gentle warmth he had felt in the Eye of the Beholder, a renowned establishment renowned for its warmth and hospitality, was now a distant memory, fading away like the light of the sun at dusk. The chill seeped through his boots, coaxing him into a rhythm, his feet stomping heavily against the snowy path. He struggled to maintain his balance, and on more than one occasion, the slippery surface almost betrayed him, causing him to lurch awkwardly to the side.

Bringing his hands together in a futile attempt to fend off the cold, he noticed they were beginning to feel numb and stiff again. With each exhale, his breath crystallized in the frigid air, forming ethereal fog clouds that danced briefly before vanishing. Feeling the magic within him resonate, he concentrated, channelling it to gradually build up some warmth within his core. As he did so, the chilling cold that had enveloped him mercilessly began to dissipate, at least for the moment, offering him a reprieve. The thought crossed his mind that he was wasting valuable magical abilities on such a trivial endeavour, and he could almost hear the scolding voice of his family reminding him of his responsibilities. Yet, with an understanding sigh, he reminded himself that this was only a passing moment—a fleeting indulgence. 

[colour=#C0C0C0]“Eris!?”[/colour] he shouted into the wind, letting his voice carry across the vast, snow-covered landscape, waiting expectantly for a response that didn’t come.

Just as he braced himself to call her name again, a figure unexpectedly emerged from a nearby heavy, wooden door, catching him off guard. Colliding with Nathaniel, he stumbled slightly, his boots slipping in the snow, but he quickly regained his footing. He had been prepared to snap at the intruder for startling him, but before he could formulate a response, the stranger spoke up, offering an unanticipated apology that caught Nathaniel off guard.

Despite his initial irritation, Nathaniel couldn’t help but notice the air of nobility that surrounded this unfamiliar man. Though he didn’t know him, there was an undeniable elegance to his demeanour, one that suggested he was well-acquainted with privilege. A faint hint of perfume, more flowery and feminine than that of any noble daughters he had encountered at previous gatherings, wafted toward him, further piquing his interest. 

Although Nathaniel didn’t recognize the man, the stranger seemed to hold a familiarity that left Nathaniel feeling at a disadvantage. The noble spoke of the beautiful youths participating in the Aurelia contest and referenced Nathaniel’s status as the runner-up, sparking memories he had tried to push aside. The recollection of the contest flooded back with vivid clarity: awkward conversations, forced smiles, and the constant sensation of being on display, all of which made him feel annoyed since the entire ordeal was orchestrated by his older sister, Isabelle. Winning had never truly mattered to him; murmurs had swirled among the aristocracy regarding bribery for votes that had elevated the eventual victor. What had that winner’s name been? He closed his eyes briefly, and suddenly it erupted forth from the recesses of memory: Ayel Raunefeldt.

[colour=#C0C0C0]” You are correct about my losing the contest,”[/colour] Nathaniel replied, his tone weary yet polite as he played along with the noble's overture. [colour=#C0C0C0]“But then again, we would stood no chance against the Prince of Aurelia, if he wanted to take part of he wasn't busy.”[/colour] he added with a light chuckle, attempting to brush aside some of Ayel's self-satisfied bragging. Yet, just as he began to pivot the conversation, Ayel posed a question that made Nathaniel pause.

[colour=#C0C0C0]“No, nothing like that,”[/colour] Nathaniel replied, a realization dawning. He was burning time standing here. [colour=#C0C0C0]“I was trying to catch up to someone important.”[/colour] Perhaps it was true; after all, time pressed upon him. As he refocused on Ayel, fleeting memories surfaced regarding their families—both from prestigious backgrounds, his family well-known for their extensive trading company with which Nathaniel’s family had frequently done business. However, when Ayel declared himself to be the Prince's best friend, it struck Nathaniel as absurd, a flagrant embellishment. Still, he refrained from calling him out, sensing it was wiser to hold his tongue and avoid any potential insult.

With moments ticking away, he felt the urgency of his task bearing down on him.[colour=#C0C0C0]”I’m very sorry, Ayel,”[/colour] he said earnestly, pivoting away from the man who was beginning to feel more like an obstacle. [colour=#C0C0C0]“But I’m in a hurry and need to act fast.”[/colour]

 Almost absentmindedly, he noticed Ayel extending his hand, a gesture of camaraderie and formality, wanting to shake. Nathaniel, quick-thinking and creative, conjured a low-level psychic spell, crafting an invisible hand that briefly grasped Ayel’s before releasing it. 

[colour=#C0C0C0]”Eris!?”[/colour] he shouted again, this time with greater determination as he quickened his pace, leaving the noble behind in the snow-draped silence, the chill reasserting itself as he moved forward, intent on finding his companion.

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Interactions/Mentions: Eris [@The Muse] Ayel [@Dezuel]
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