Karasu to ryū ga hiru ma odoru
- A raven and dragon dance the day away
Tōga's longing for the familiar shores of Luluhawa Island tugged at his heart with insatiable affection after two weeks away exploring new adventures. Setting out on the open roads, his wanderlust drew him to Astera, eager for fresh experiences and camaraderie along the way. In that bustling hub of people, a chance encounter with an old friend, Michael, sparked fond reminiscences of times past, while a growing bond with the mysterious Tamás promised new perceptions. Though his sojourn brimmed with thrill and feeling, transforming his perspectives in ways subtle and profound, still his thoughts would drift on the winding trails back to that small village nestled amid the palms and the rolling ocean tides. However far Tōga wandered, Luluhawa Island remained his anchor, calling him through the days and nights with the promise of home.
Change swept over Tōga's life with the rushing force of a tidal wave, altering his conceptions of self and reality. Power and renown accumulated around him, elevating his status far beyond the wide-eyed recruit who first donned the Rune Knight's uniform. A mystical metamorphosis took hold in his very flesh, marking the passage of time less in days than in evolutions of being. In two short weeks, he had progressed through epochs of transformation. Though he embraced the adventure of growth and discovery, still he yearned for a familiar anchor amidst the currents threatening to sweep his sense of self away. Luluhawa Island represented that constant polestar, offering a safe harbor no matter his outward changes, a place where the only difference between visits was the new face reflected back from the shimmering lagoons. He could no more predict the stranger he might become than hold back the tides. But here, time itself seemed to relax its grasp, allowing him simply to be, between was and will be.
Wandering the city streets, Tōga came across the cozy tavern he and Lumikki used to frequent, conjuring bittersweet memories. Their last quest together had ended on a sour note, tempers flaring before stubbornly parting ways. But the cooling balm of two weeks' separation nursed hopes that hot heads had finally cleared. As Tōga pushed open the weathered door, a smile already playing about his lips, he wondered if this familiar haunt might offer more than just refuge from the chill wind outside.
That riotous pink hair preceded the rest of him inside, as warm brown eyes took in the tavern's enduring charms. However often Tōga roamed, he appreciated the constancy and comfort to be found within these walls, scented with hearth smoke and echoing with easy laughter. The bartender looked up and welcomed back the WAYWARD regular with his usual grin, as if not a day had passed since his last visit. In times of tumultuous change, it was reassuring to know at least one place where Tōga could rely on things to remain the same.
ōga's familiar garb of a deep red hoodie and navy outerwear was currently hidden beneath the dusty cloak of a wayfaring adventurer, just returned from weeks on the open roads. A cloth bag slung across his shoulder bore the stamps and stains of faraway places, evoking images of lonely campfires under starry skies. The nondescript tan fabric obscured his vibrant signature colors - concealing the exuberant pink hair and wine-hued jacket as if they were a secret known only to him for now. Outwardly, he blended into the crowd of travelers and traders flowing constantly through the city gates.
Inwardly, Tōga felt those hidden aspects of himself pulsing vibrantly still, as if the wanderer's cloak restrained them for a purpose soon to be revealed. For this moment, the cloak rendered him anonymous, his true self sheltered like a flame cupped from the winds of change, awaiting the proper time to kindle into open view once more. When he drew back the concealing hood, what rediscovered identity might greet old friends with a smile both familiar and unexpected?
“One glass of Mead please,” Tōga asked respectfully, he smile still as omnipresent as ever. Nodding, the Bartender acknowledged and got to work on the drink.
wc: 682