Several days later, Vorithas found himself home. Real home. In San d’Oria. He was exhausted. Over the past few days he’d covered Konschtat, Valkurm, and La Theine extensively in his hunt for the weather patterns. In his adventures, he’d been incredibly lucky in finding four more of the seven he needed:
The first came when he returned to Konschtat from Pashhow and a monsterous bolt of lightning cracked the sky, illuminating the area in a ghostly purple light. Vorithas had felt super-charged and tingly, as though he could run for miles and miles without stopping. Curiously, he checked the gem, grinning as it was enveloped in a violet light. The second had cleared up a great mystery for him, what the seventh color was. It happened as he left Konschtat and its gloom-coated skies for the Valkurm Dunes — a small desert on the southwestern coast of the continent. The skies were clear, the sunshine beaming down – without a cloud in the sky to block it. He had felt warm, but not overly so. The gem picked up an orange aura, and Vorithas had laughed. Calm, that was the seventh ‘color’. Not an element, but an integral part of the weather patterns.
The third had shown itself as he neared Selbina, a small port town situated in the Dunes. It was nearing midday, and the heat grew oppressive, warping the air as the heat from the sands rushed skyward. He felt an aggressive surge run through him – and suddenly he wanted to take on the entire desert, all at once. Shaking the feeling, he took the gem out of its pouch and smiled. This time it had a fire red aura playing over the crimson surface. Once he reached Selbina, he was in a good mood at making so much progress so quickly. A heat wave was rare, even in Valkurm, and he’d feared traveling all the way to Altepa — another desert far to the southwest. The town of Selbina held little more than a few fishing huts and very basic shops, as well as a few freelance magic vendors. A few guilds had shops set up here as well – most notably the fishing and tailoring guilds. He decided after a quick lunch, purchased from some of the stall vendors down by the docks, that he would make the journey back to San d’Oria in search of snow. After all, snow was rare in Batallia Downs – just outside of Jeuno – and he’d always wanted to see the Beaucidine Glacier.
The trek across the desert tired him – he did not like the heat. It was one of the reasons he’d moved to San d’Oria as soon as he was able. Windurst was a tropical city, too warm for his liking. On the Northern edge of the desert, the rocks began to jut above the sand, and he soon found the path that would take him to the La Theine Plateau. It was a craggy path that led upward, and he decided that once inside it, he’d be safe to take a rest. All of this walking was draining him, and he’d be glad once he was back in San d’Oria. He got to his feet slowly, wincing slightly as his legs did not want to stand. They wanted to continue to rest. He continued north, reaching the top of the path as it widened out into the Plateau. This verdant land was no Jugner Forest, but it was still better than the Highlands or Valkurm had been. Strolling slowly, he kept a wary eye open for Orcs patrolling through the trees. Jugner was home to one of their major bases of operations, so patrols often crossed through La Theine on the way to either Ghelsba in Ronfaure or Davoi in Jugner.
As he walked, the wind played at his hair, until it started to grow stronger. Leaves blew by him, and tiny dust devils were whipped up from the dirt and grass on the Plateau, swirling about in an entrancing dance. Vorithas stopped to watch them, grinning to himself as he folded his arms across his chest. The wind grew to a faster pace, and then sustained itself. He suddenly felt as though the wind were at his back, and that the trek was no more than a few more minutes. Quickly reaching into the pouch, he pulled it out and shouted with joy as the ruby had a green aura wrapped around it. This was the fourth of his trip, and the fifth of the seven he would need. He was almost finished. With his spirits refreshed, Vorithas pushed to reach San d’Oria as quickly as he could.
When he snapped out of his daydream, he was suddenly acutely aware that he’d dozed off in the Lion Springs – and slightly embarrassed as a result. The Lion Springs was a tavern in Southern San d’Oria. There were two levels populated with several tables, and a bar on the top floor, as well as a stage where bards would play in the evenings. Seraph, a blue mage that Vorithas had known for only a short time, sat across from him chuckling as he noticed his friend return to the real world. Vorithas apologized profusely, his face reddened, and Seraph shook his head, a grin plastered on his face. Vorithas had asked Seraph to join him here. Though he was Bastokan, Seraph often found himself in San d’Oria for one reason or another and because of this fact, Vorithas was asking him about accompanying him to Beaucidine Glacier. The last thing Vorithas had done was relay the entire story about Seraph’s so-called gift to him. While they were waiting for their drinks, Vorithas had slipped to sleep from exhaustion.
Seraph accepted when Vorithas asked if he would accompany him to Beaucidine to hunt the snow that the entity of the ruby seemed to want to acquire. By the time their drinks came, Vorithas had pulled out the maps he’d collected, and they began planning their route through Ranguemont Pass. Ranguemont was one of the few travel routes available to adventurers to reach Beaucidine Glacier. The map resembled fingers, and while it was a simple right, left, right directionally, there were many monsters that inhabited the Pass since the end of the Crystal War. That was why Vorithas had sought Seraph’s help. The blue mage’s various magics would come in handy if they ran into any manner of beast deep in the Pass.
Another round of drinks came, and the two put the maps away and enjoyed the rest of the evening, reveling in the music played by the bards that had taken the stage. Soon, however, Vorithas’ exhaustion took over, and he had to drag himself back to his own Mog House to get some much needed rest. The evening ended too quickly for his liking, but he was excited for the journey that began tomorrow.