The zeppelin wasn't leaving for another two days, as there was a regular schedule for it to keep. This meant that Barandir was stuck inside the cabin which he shared with Lonkar, the cabin like the rest of the ship was constructed of smooth light brown wooden planks, the cabin itself was sparse, not too unlike the cabin he had awoken in after he had escaped the forest.
During this period Barandir was visited by a local doctor by the name of Kran Belir, he was a short, spry, elderly man with a bald shiny head and a large beard. He wore a pale green coat of sorts, on it was a symbol of a tree with its roots visible in a dark gold embroidery.
Kran Belir was a silent man, he shook the hand of Lonkar and Barandir, whereas he began his investigation of Barandir's injuries. At first he clapped his hands together, initiating a thin green coating around his hands, after which he unwrapped Barandir's bandages, and turned and prodded his body gently. He nodded his head calmly, and pulled out a small notebook, which he scribbled a couple of lines in.
Then he pulled out a small silver pendant in the shape of a teardrop, with a with a silver chain wrapped around the teardrop. He held it over Barandir's head and spoke softly "reveal" which made the teardrop drip silver drops, every drop that landed on Barandir rippled out over his body before disappearing. Slowly he moved it over every part of Barandir's body, and at the end his eyes squinted slightly, but he didn't speak, he simply wrote a couple of more notes in his booklet.
As the doctor conducted his work, Barandir couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, he had a deep-seated hatred for magic and mages, and when he had pulled out the pendant, he had almost writhed with loathing. However he wasn't a fool, he knew that not all mages were bad, and this here now, was different than that there then. Yet he could feel the hate deep in his bones every time he saw magic, and he realised now that the feeling felt slightly artificial even, this was a strange realisation, and one he would need to investigate further in the future.
"This shouldn't be too difficult to fix" the doctor said calmly, his voice raspy and clear "I will use some healing magic on the injuries, and I will need to go to my clinic in order to pick up some salves and medicines which you will have to apply on your nephew regularly for about a month" The doctor nodded at his own words "but, I am curious, so if you don't mind me asking earnestly?"
"Sure" Lonkar replied with a smile "what do you want to know?".
With a slightly awkward expression the doctor looked at Barandir "Although somewhat impressive, but what did you hope to accomplish by awakening as a warrior, when you have already unblocked the Golden Stove" the doctor shook his head in disappointment "the dangers of awakening as a warrior could kill you, and you should know that having unblocked the Golden Stove would automatically disallow your body from retaining and absorbing natural energy".
Lonkar's head instantly switched to his nephew, his smile gone, he opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it, after a while he finally spoke "Nephew, we are a family of mages, not one of us is a warrior, but given your predicament I can understand you desperation, but it was a foolish choice! Putting your life at risk after having barely survived, I..I!.." He put his hand on his head as he faltered slightly, he turned to the doctor "Doctor Belir, please let's speak on the way to your clinic" with one last look at his nephew, he exited the small room.
'So that's why!' The mystery that had been eluding him for so many years had been solved so casually, he had unlocked the Golden-Stove? Whatever that was, from the uncle's words it would appear to have something to do with being a mage, would that mean that he himself was a mage? He shuddered at the thought. When he thought about it he actually didn't know much about mages. Before the uprising they had been a rather secluded and mysterious folk, and during the war there wasn't too much knowledge relating to mages, at least not what he had been privy to, but he had definitely seen mages with physical skills worthy of those of warriors, was that magic then? The amount of mages in this world appeared to be far more common though, after all, it hadn't taken the uncle long to find a doctor who could use magic.
He looked up at the ceiling with disparate eyes, it would appear, that he would never be a warrior again, it was everything he knew, it was what he loved and desired, yet now that desire was squashed, and he would have to adapt somehow. He closed his eyes for a long time, how painful it was, for a moment his breath became short, and his heart felt like it was being crushed. With the outside noise of the workers preparing the zeppelin, and the sounds from the streets, he could hear the sounds of life and the living. Was he himself not alive? He hadn't lost everything that he had gained in his previous life, he still had his spirit, his heart and his unwavering will, he opened his eyes, a determined gaze visible.
. . . . .
They were two weeks into their journey, and they had yet to touch ground. Barandir walked with an oak cane down a hallway, he was heading for the deck. After the doctor had used his magic, and after a week and half of medicine and salve, he was finally capable of moving around by himself again. Albeit with a cane, and not particularly quickly. On the way to the deck he met a couple of other passengers, he politely nodded his head while passing them by. The hallways had small white crystal lamps attached, bringing light to the interior of the zeppelin.
Barandir saw the uncle sitting on a bench on the deck, looking at the stars while calmly smoking his pipe. It was a beautiful starry night, and the air was incredibly fresh and crisp, Barandir could definitely feel that they had moved northward.
"Uncle, what is on your mind?" he spoke casually as he approached the bench. With two weeks of sharing the same room, he had gotten much more comfortable and familiar with communicating with 'his' uncle.
He pointed his pipe at the grey canvas that was barely visible over him "once in a while when I take a trip on a runic-zeppelin I feel in awe at what we can accomplish with the combination of magic and engineering" he took a deep puff on his pipe, and exhaled it slowly "in a sense it is like mages, we are the vessels from which we can utilize magic, it is this age-old connection which lives on in artefacts and now these days in our everyday lives" He looked over at Barandir who was slowly getting seated "but, that is hardly what you meant, is it now?".
Sitting down he couldn't help but smile at the uncle's answer "I was referring to cousin Finn, and what we talked about the other day". The two men sat in silence for a while watching the night sky pass by, Barandir wasn't in a hurry, and although he still hadn't gotten used to the flying, he still enjoyed it very much, especially the deck in the evening.
"Your cousin is an adept at the Tower of Artin in the city of Topini, he has been set to take the mantle as the head of the family within the next fifty years, and I suspect that he had something to do with your falling out of the zeppelin, based on the journal that you showed me" his look got slightly more intense, although his face remained calm "the story that he provided about that day, and what your journal shows are different, according to him he was busy studying and he hadn't seen you at all that day" he moved his gaze from Barandir and looked back up at the endless skies "unfortunately your memory seems to be jumbled and from what we can gather you have suffered some degree of memory loss... although the truth, would your cousin believe it?" it was as if the uncle was reciting something mundane and uninteresting "unfortunately any type of memory magic, or soul reciting magic carries huge risks, when performed by the uninitiated, and the disciplines remain rather rare, we might be able to find someone of such practice in one of the large cities, but hardly up north"
Barandir was listening with interest, he had implied and subtly conveyed a truth of him missing memories relating to 'Barandir', this was the truth, technically, which made the lie more believable. Furthermore when he had read the journal he had been suspicious of this 'cousin Finn', however he did not know his mettle, and had instead shared the journal with the uncle in order to see what he would conclude, unfortunately he had come to a similar suspicion. The why wasn't entirely clear though, it wasn't as if Barandir was going to take over as the head of the family, and their territory was ruled by a council of elders, effectively removing a great decree of power from the cousin... The truth wouldn't reveal itself until he could look the cousin in his eyes. "I'm sure that my memories will resurface eventually uncle" he responded after a short break, of course he didn't want to seek out a mage that could peer into his memories or soul, he was strongly hoping to find some more journals that could bring to light some of 'Barandir's' history.
"The boatswain told me that we'd be docking in a small countryside town by the name of Oakville for a couple of days, do you know anything about the town?" he asked genuinely curious, it was the first time that he'd be able to walk around a town and see how it looked properly, and communicate with people again.
"Oakville..." Lonkar tapped the pipe with his finger lightly "the town itself is pretty old fashioned, and not particularly big, it is however at convenient spot for a lot of farms to send over produce that the zeppelin's can transport, until the next stop, the grand city of Cenharb" His eyes came alive when he pronounced the name of the city "the name is short for central harbor, which isn't particularly original, I know, but originally it was simply a small harbor town, as its importance as a trade city grew, so did its size, it is quite the magnificent place..."a twinge of sadness emanated from the sentence as the uncle turned quiet and contemplative.
Sometimes a man didn't need to speak, and this was one of those times, Barandir simply sat there with the uncle, providing him company.
. . . . .
The first thing that Lonkar did when they arrived in Oakville was to drag Barandir to the closest tailor to get his measurements taken, after which he dragged him to a shoemaker and barbershop. He insisted that a nephew of his couldn't simply walk around with the Crowborne name in Cenharb looking like a hobo.
During the entire trip Barandir was greedily absorbing all of the new impressions, the town looked very modern to him, although his uncle insisted that it was old fashioned. The roads were tiled with flat rocks, although the rocks themselves were in different shapes and colours. The building a white colour with a visible wooden binding work, marked the general architectural style of the town, and overall it seemed like a decently large town, to Barandir. The buildings were all at least two to three storeys and there must have been space for more than a thousand people in the town at least. The clothes the people wore were quite different from his uncle though, Lonkar wore a white or grey shirt with an accompanying vest, most of the time, and long charcoal straight pants. It was obvious that the main profession in the area was related to agriculture, as most of the people he saw wore more rough linen pants and shirts.
Once more he had to conclude that the amount of mages were far more than he had ever seen, the tailor seemed to have some magical ability, and of the guards that greeted them, the leader was a mage. What in the world was going on, since when were mages such a regular occurrence?
A shoemaker and a tailor, Barandir had seen these types of stores before, although the ones here appeared much more advanced in their measuring and materials. However the barber was a completely new experience to him. It was small store with a wooden comb as the sign. The sign read;
Harry & Son –
The inside was a simple getup of a smooth dark wooden floor, with two comfy looking leather chairs with a mirror in front of each. The two owners were quite tall and sturdy, and similar looking, with the only difference being one looking several years younger than the other. They both had large handlebar moustaches. The uncle told them to do whatever, as long as it looked respectable, giving Barandir little input.
When they ha finished, he finally saw the body that he inhabited properly, dark purple eyes, raven-black hair, now short and neatly combed to the left, a couple of semi long sideburns and a simple moustache, but otherwise clean-shaven. He looked over at Lonkar whose hair and beard had been trimmed, Barandir still couldn't get used to this beard culture, which wasn't at all prominent when he was alive originally.
. . . . .
Three weeks later the runic-zeppelin landed in Cenharb, and a neat looking gentleman exited, he had charcoal leather shoes, brown trousers, a slim cotton shirt that accentuated his physique and a grey linen vest that was hanging open, the pocket watch, since fixed up by the uncle, was now hanging in the vest. Barandir had exclaimed loudly "what a town!" at the sight from above before they had landed, to this, his uncle quickly corrected him "city, nephew, city".