The Sunchaser begins to move away from the Rephidim docks. It is still morning, and sunbeams shoot around the clouds and both over and underneath the floating island. Several passengers stand on the observation deck, either in the shelter of the roofed portion, or – as most of them do – in the open area, leaning over the railing and waving to friends and family on the docks. Those on the observation deck are only a fraction of the complement of passengers on the vessel, largely due to the inconvenience of climbing up the crawl tubes to get here. Most of them are probably down on the port side of the undercarriage, waving through the large glass panel windows toward the dock.

Propellers begin to spin somewhere far below, and curious mechanisms begin to flap, bellow, churn and twist, though they can't be heard by any but those possessing the sharpest of ears up here on the normally quiet deck.

In the shaded forward section of the observation deck, a brown Vartan with a patch over one eye peers through one of the portholes, while a plantigrade Savanite sits nearby. A winged Exile in robes of an Earth Mage stands on the deck, near the railing, in the open section.

The Vartan clears his throat and looks towards the Aeolun. "Miss, you can see your friend from here if you'd like to wave goodbye. I'm happy to share my window."

Envoy blinks in surprise at the Vartan's comment, and says, "Thank you sir." She goes over to try and spot Wynona back on the docks.

Through the window, Envoy can see the white bat waving a wing at the departing zeppelin.

Smiling, Envoy waves back, hoping Wynona can see her.

"The Air Mage is not traveling to Caroban?" the brown Vartan scrawks. He squints through the window with his one good eye; the other is covered by an eyepatch.

"Unfortunately not; she just came to visit," Envoy says, then turns to smile at the Vartan. "Is Wynona a friend of yours? I am Envoy, of the Sphere of Earth." She offers up a white-furred hand.

"We have met now and again, yes." The Vartan gently takes Envoy's hand and shakes it. "My name is Elijah."

"Pleased to meet you, Elijah," Envoy says, giving a slight curtsey. "Are you bound for Gigi?"

As the zeppelin picks up speed, porters close up the hatches on the observation deck, before too much of a breeze builds up.

Elijah smirks and shrugs. "A bit farther than that, but I'll be stopping in Ur." He looks out the window again at the retreating form of the bat. "Is Wynona doing well? I regret not being able to speak with her."

"She seems to be, but I didn't have time to find out for sure." Envoy says, as she watches the crew at work. "I wonder if the lounge is opened yet, since they seem to closing things up here. I'm only going as far as Caroban myself."

Elijah loops his thumbs into his belt. "Perhaps. I'm a bit hungry after getting settled in. I would be most honored to buy you a meal." He glances at a young Savanite cub looking out the window. "Watches-Quietly, would you like to join us as well?"

The mentioned Savanite steps forward, bowing. The young spotted feline looks to be maybe eleven to at most fourteen years of age, just on the verge of becoming a teen, perhaps.

Envoy returns the bow, and introduces herself with a few quick hand-signs and a smile.

The Savanite responds with, "Pleased to meet you, Enchantress," and another polite bow.

"Your reputation precedes you, Mage Envoy." The brown Vartan grins as he makes his way to the lounge. "May I be one of the first to congratulate you on your success in the Wandering Roams?"

This causes Envoy to blush briefly as she follows. "Actually, I failed to meet the original goals of the expedition, technically. There is still much work to be done analyzing our finds before congratulations are in order, really."

A climb down the crawl-tubes later – not the most dignified of ways to get around a zeppelin, but not necessarily the worst, either – the group makes its way to the forward lounge on the second deck of the undercarriage. Glassy panels offer a view of the clouds passing by to either side, and tables are securely anchored to the floor, in case of turbulence. Similarly, everything is build for stability, and there are support poles and rails to grab at, just about everywhere – and all the corners to be found are round, not sharp.

The menu is fairly small – In fact, meals are ordered for these cruises typically before embarking, though they still have a selection of drinks and snacks for impulse eaters.

It's still morning, and past the usual breakfast hour, so the lounge is by and large empty when Envoy, Elijah and Watches-Quietly take a table.

Envoy looks over the brief menu and wonders if the fruit is fresh, or if it is still being unloaded in the hold. To her companions, she asks, "I take it you two are travelling together?" Small talk has never been one her best skills.

Elijah settles himself in and yawns. "The roughest part of takeoff is usually leaving the little air bubble around the sky islands, then flying tends to be smooth unless the weather is bad. The only thing I don't like about these enclosed ships is that I can't properly stretch my wings." He glances at the Savanite. "Watches-Quietly is my porter, so to speak. But we're here separately. I have my traveling companion, but they chose to remain in the cabin and rest for a bit."

"Does your work involve a lot of travelling?" the Exile asks politely. "You seem fairly experienced with airships."

Watches-Quietly signs, "I carry things."

"Yes," the Vartan answers. "But this trip is a bit different. I am hoping to find myself when it is all over."

Envoy quietly ponders the irony of a Vartan needing anyone to carry things for him … especially someone still so young. "Pardon me?" she asks. "Surely you're right here, not … lost?"

Elijah laughs. "Somehow I knew you were going to say that." He shakes his head and smiles warmly. "I have seen a great deal during the war, more than any man should. It has made me question decisions I have made in the past and my purpose now. This trip is my time to speak to people whom I respect and ask them their wisdom for my situation, and also so that I may have time to think about many things."

The Mage's eyes go wide and she blushes again. "Oh, you mean to find yourself in the larger sense. To see which course you want your life to follow, perhaps? I've been through something like that myself."

Watches-Quietly looks surprised. "Do mages have to do things like that?"

The Vartan nods, the gentle smile never leaving his beak. "And did you find yourself, or are you still looking?"

Envoy smiles to Watches-Quietly and says, "Well, it's not required for Mages. I did this long before I became a Mage … and I like to think that I am a constant work in progress. I try to adapt to new information and learning as best I can. Due to my origins, it's a bit different for me when it comes to knowing what my purpose in life is."

"Does where you came from truly matter as to who you are?" Elijah's left brow rises a little.

"Oh no, not where I came from, exactly," Envoy says. "It's what I was made for. I'm an artifact … a living one. Just as a Chronotopian Egg is made to tell the time, I was made to explore and learn."

Watches-Quietly fidgets, then signs, "I don't think that just because you were made for something means that you are bound to follow that purpose, necessarily. But exploring and learning sounds like a nice purpose."

The Savanite then blushes at having made the long hand-sign-speech, and folds hands.

Elijah nods in agreement with the Savanite's signs. "Or on the other side of the shekel, if your purpose was so cut and dry, why question it at all?"

Envoy signs back, "And are you also looking for the right path to follow?" Out loud, she says, "Well, it has been a challenge at times. I was never really meant to be independent, so the fact that I operate on any level is a bit of a miracle. But I don't have biological drives, so my purpose of form takes their place. In time, I might change, or change myself."

The Savanite doesn't answer her question, but merely takes on a contemplative expression.

The Vartan doesn't seem shocked by all of the signing, but he has an air about him that makes one feel comfortable, despite his grizzled appearance. "But you obviously have the capacity to make decisions for yourself. You weren't forced to join the Mage's Guild, were you?"

"No, but it was something I wanted to explore," Envoy admits. "I want to achieve my potential, at least within reason. Life is something to explore as well, after all."

"It sounds to me that just because you do not have drives in the same manner that most people do does not mean that you do not have them at all," Elijah says. "How is your life now?"

"I've been doing fairly well recently, which isn't necessarily all to the good," the Aeolun says, pursing her lips. "Success is fine and all, but notoriety can be dangerous. There are many things happening that I try to keep track of, but I only have so much available time. I feel my limits more now than I did before becoming a Mage, I think."

The Savanite cocks her head to one side curiously at this last remark.

Elijah glances at the Savanite with his one good eye. "What kept you from feeling them before? And what are your limits?"

"Oh, it's just … ," Envoy begins to say, and waves a hand. "Before, I was noticeable, but not in any position where my actions might have repercussions. Like being a child, I imagine. You have the freedom to make a lot of mistakes. Now I have to be much more careful, and that in itself is a limiting factor. I'm more noticeable now, and taken more seriously. Like being an adult."

The Savanite lets out a sympathetic sigh.

The Vartan smiles. "You feel stuck midway. No longer free to run, and there is no longer the promise of someone looking out for you, but at the same time you are not sure that you can hold yourself to those that you classify as adults. You are afraid of making mistakes, and making the people who now rely upon you look bad by your actions?"

Envoy grins at Watches-Quietly, then nods solemnly to Elijah. "There's a lot more pressure when it feels like the whole world is going to judge you. And I constantly worry about my friends being hurt because of me, although most of them are on pretty firm feet now, thankfully. My recent expedition wasn't without casualties."

"Plus, my reputation has the potential to haunt me for a long while," she adds, "since I don't age."

"Would it help if I told you that it gets easier as you get older?" Elijah folds his hands in the tabletop. "I have made decisions that have gotten men killed, and I have knowingly sent men on missions that I knew they would never return from. I have done things that have killed potentially innocent people who were led astray by the enemy. It is a bitter teacher and one that you will question all of your days, but you cannot let fear keep you from those decisions. Experience is a necessary burden. The trick is allowing yourself fleeting moments where you can examine it with impartial eyes so that you can draw upon it later."

Envoy nods. "I recently had to do something out of necessity that disturbs me, but I didn't hesitate at the time. But I can't be too impartial either, or else I'll become callused over time. I'm still learning to how to feel a lot of things, as well. It's very tricky to be an immortal in a mortal world without becoming a monster or an automaton."

The Vartan rubs his beak, pausing a moment to scratch at his eyepatch. "I am a solder – or a former soldier now – so my experiences have forced me to become cold in certain circumstances. The trick is to keep a set of goals and morals within you. When you fight a battle and the enemy is using civilians to shield the mage who is killing your men, you must remember who is the most important, and how many more lives may be lost if you do not fire a shot into the crowd and risk killing an innocent to save the lives of your men. True, growing completely cold is bad, but fear or anger is just as dangerous." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm making sense."

"You do. My mothers understood that. One of them even committed genocide in a long war. But I don't like to hurt people – and when I do, I make sure that I don't forget it. While it might be necessary for me to do it, I never want it to be easy," the Aeolun says, while watching an interesting cloud pass by outside.

"But revealing problems does not solve them." Elijah taps the table with a taloned finger. "What are your goals, Mage Envoy?"

Envoy blinks and focuses back on the table. "Oh … long-term would be to find out what the Sifras meant for these worlds. That should occupy me for quite some time. In the shorter term, I just try to help my friends and make myself useful where I can."

"Friends and loved ones are very important. They anchor you even when they're not there. I would guess that companionship would keep you from becoming an automaton more than anything else." The Vartan idly waves one of the shiphands down and orders a pitcher of juice. "And it sounds as though you have quite a lofty goal, although having more than two is useful. You should think about places you'd like to go, or people you'd like to meet. Sometimes a purpose can be like a chain; going to one link will lead you to the next."

It doesn't take long before a pitcher of juice and three glasses are sitting before the Vartan and his companions.

Envoy chuckles. "That's easy. I want to go everywhere and meet everybody. There's always someone or someplace new to grab my attention when it starts to wander. Like you and Watches-Quietly. I've been wondering where your porter comes from, for instance."

Elijah simply glances at the young Savanite as he pours himself a glass. He says nothing in reply.

Watches-Quietly shrugs, and signs, "Short answer is Rephidim, I guess."

The Mage taps the side of her muzzle and looks over the cub. "Rephidim, hmm? My first thought was that you were the child of Princess Long-Lope, but I think you'd be much younger then. And only Savanites born on the surface are likely to have your particular mutation, which is pretty rare in any case as far as my knowledge goes. Forgive me if I'm disturbing you with all this speculation though. If you're uncomfortable, I'll drop the subject all right?"

Elijah takes a drink from his glass.

Watches-Quietly fidgets a bit, then signs, "Well, I don't know terribly much about that."

Envoy just nods, and doesn't question further, taking the fidgeting to be a sign of discomfort. The cub is old enough to have been born a slave after all, and may barely remember her family if it was broken up.

The Vartan catches the pause in the conversation and scoops it up. "You know Princess Long-Lope?"

After taking a sip of juice, Envoy answers, "Not that well. I'm closest to Emerald-Eyes, Jade-Eyes, their mother Creen-Song and … Third-Vision, I suppose. I'll probably be paying the Priest-Queen a visit as soon as the opportunity arises."

Watches-Quietly just bites her lip, fidgeting some more, then takes a sip of juice from her glass.

"Is that so wise? I hear that the Priest-Queen is stirring up trouble in Safar. Rumor has it that she's disbanded the Twelve." Elijah's eyebrow raises at Envoy's pause.

"It doesn't matter. She's my friend," Envoy says, wondering just what is going on in Xenea. "I always try to help my friends when I'm able."

Elijah nods. "You must have a great many friends."

"I've lost a few, and could have done better with others," Envoy says, "but yes, I suppose I do have a lot of friends."

"Your tone is one that carries regrets." The Vartan swirls his half-full cup's contents. "If it is not too presumptuous of me, I would almost say that you sound as though you hold the ones you lost with a stronger regard than then ones you have now?"

Envoy swirls her drink and looks up at the Vartan. "I wish I could have said goodbye to some of them, or been on better terms with them before they were gone. A part of me knows that I will eventually lose everyone I care about, but it doesn't help to deal with things that were left unresolved. Perhaps I am too sentimental?"

"There will always be things left unresolved." Elijah glances at the Savanite cub and clenches his beak. His good eye closes for a moment before he resumes speaking again. "Death is rarely scheduled, rarely allotted in a manner than you can prepare for. It is sudden, cruel, and heartless. There has been only one man in my life that I was ever able to come close to a proper goodbye, and even his death stung. But you cannot let death rule your life. If you have regrets, then weave them into your goals and bend them into a tool you can use instead of wearing them like a wound. When a soldier loses his partner in a battle, he will more often then not fight twice as hard after that."

"In time I may develop a method like that; I'm still learning," Envoy says, then grins. "I'm barely eight years old; I need to build up more experience yet."

"I apologize if I sound a bit too passionate." The Vartan dips his head in an apologetic bow. "But I am given the impression that you hold many regrets and fears, but you wish to collect all the information you can before you work out a solution. It is a noble plan, but there is a point where action is necessary, even if you do not know everything. Although, again, I speak from a soldier's experience. Often when we went into battle, we did not know where all of the enemy armies were, but in delaying the battle, the enemy would have won without resistance. I simply suggest that you devote time to action as well as discovery."

"I guess my challenges don't all boil down to confrontational ones then. I've learned not to impose myself where I might not be wanted, and not to try and force events," the Mage says, and has some more juice. "Sometimes victory isn't the goal, either. A lot can be accomplished by … strategic loss."

Elijah's brows knit together, causing his eyepatch to jump a little. "How about this – what kind of challenge do you want? If you could sculpt an ideal challenge that might help you grow, what would it be?"

Envoy blinks at the question. "All challenges help me grow, I think, so long as they don't kill me. They're all equally important to me."

"So it does not matter if it is a physical test or an intelligence test? Mental or spiritual?" The Vartan nods and shrugs. "A fair answer."

"I imagine you are looking for more of a spiritual challenge yourself?" Envoy asks. "You seem to have come to terms with the other types."

Elijah chuckles and shrugs. "A man can always grow wiser, and I am at peace with the Star. What I am looking for is hard to classify. I am servant who has lost faith in his master, and a craftsman who questions his craft. I am going to seek answers as to whether I should serve a new master and take up a new craft, or if I can come to terms with the ones I have now."

Envoy ponders this. "Quite the challenge. A soldier is not easily unmade. It is a hard and unrewarding life, but ultimately a noble one I think. Have you thought about becoming a teacher, or a priest? They aren't that different, but you don't have to kill anyone."

"Fighting is necessary, and although I do not glory in battle like a madman, I also do not hate the weight of the sword." The Vartan sips from his cup. "My dilemma is a bit more broad than that, although I cannot go too much into detail lest I dishonor myself and my order. I will only say that those whom I served and fought for betrayed me and my brethren, and although those who betrayed me have been punished, I fear it happening again and I have a hard time forgiving the wounds suffered unto me. I am traveling to learn to forgive those wounds more than anything else. And if I cannot bring myself to do it, then I may never take up the sword again."

"Were you a lancer?" Envoy asks quietly.

"Yes, and please do not question me any deeper than that. I have been given a temporary identity and leave from the order, but they still hold my true name. If word got out that we could come and go as we pleased then it would no doubt bring more shame upon Golgotha's door, and that has suffered enough as it is through the war." The Vartan flicks his left ear, notched down to half the size of the right by some blade long ago. "I speak of this much to you because I trust you; it is more than I would speak to a stranger."

The Savanite sips at the remaining juice in her glass, keeping her head low.

"When I was first accepted in the Collegia Esoterica, I had it in mind to create a diamond sword to give to the Order in recognition of what they represented," Envoy says, still talking quietly. "I know how they were abused after the last war though. I worry often about a friend of mine that is a knight."

Elijah quietly sips from his glass, appraising Envoy with his single violet eye. "A noble gift."

The Savanite signs, "May I have leave, sir? I should check on my quarters."

"Of course." The Vartan idly waves the Savanite away.

The Savanite bows to the Vartan and the mage, then shuffles off from the lounge.

Envoy watches the cub leave, before asking, "Any children of your own? I understand that raising a family is quite a challenge, on all levels."

"I cannot answer that, Mage Envoy. I cannot tell you who I am, where I live, and can only offer up vague answers as to what I do." He sets down his empty cup. "All I can tell you is that my name is Elijah and I am traveling to Ur with my companion. If I tell any more, I risk shaming myself and those I care about."

"I understand, I think," the Mage says, and finishes her juice. "I wouldn't want be used as a weapon against someone, or risk having others used against me."

Elijah taps his fingertips together in thought. "It's a bit hard to explain, but it's not quite like that. The order has certain expectations to it, and usually a chain is judged by its weakest link. Not to mention internal conflicts. Although what I am doing is not unheard of, it is still something that I cannot make a big show of. My order has a reputation to uphold, and word should not get out that members within it are suffering morale problems or removing their armor and leaving on quests." He jumps a bit as the ship lurches. "Speaking of quests, I should attend to my friend back in the cabin. They don't fly very well."

Envoy stands and bows. "I should see to my companion as well. It was good to meet with you, Elijah. I'm sure we'll have more chances to talk during the voyage, if you care to." She smiles warmly to the Vartan.

"Of course, Mage Envoy. I am at your disposal." The Vartan pulls a shiny key from his pocket, bows, and departs down the tight corridor.

Envoy looks of the windows for a moment longer, then heads to her own cabin to see if Iona has plans for lunch yet.