Timias held his hat tightly against his side under his arm until he was completely outside the family home. The day was quiet, cloudy but not threatening rain, and the air was still. He sighed heavily before fitting the floppy red and yellow cap to hide his slicked back golden hair. The insistence of the family to be "presentable at all times" was stifling until he felt he could not breathe within the walls, and so opted for a walk around the once familiar quarter.
While he had never called Riviera home, the city was calm and ever changing in a way that made it feel to him more comforting than perhaps his childhood had allowed him to feel in his own home city.
Before he could stop himself, the memories of the tragedy of that city wracked through his mind and brought him halting near the gates of the family property. Not even to the street yet and his mind was already in the darkness of his past. His breath came shakily as he tried his best to calm down, remembering as loudly as he could within his mind that it was not his fault. His survival was not his fault.
"It was not my fault." The whispered words fell from his fear-paled features that threatened to hide his happy tan beneath the icy waves of regret.
By the time he stood upright and determined to walk down the street he did not notice the drapes within the house behind him sway closed. The cold muddy eyes that watched him from within stepped away further into the dreary building to hide their purpose in whispered commands to the staff. A hushed nod was followed by the young man stepping into the servants' quarters and out the back door to hurry down the street away from the colourful and unwelcome cousin.
Timias's mind was occupied quickly by his fascination with the affluent patrons of Hightown, smiling jovially to those he passed with a flourishing bow and compliments aplenty. Many of his would-be neighbors smiled or giggled happily with his exaggerated actions and brilliantly patterned fashion. A few sneered and called him a jester or clown, but none could walk away from him without a smile.
"Good sir, if I am but a clown then the world is the circus in which I perform! If I am a jester, let everyone who sees me be royalty in their own right!" The half-elf was so well liked that he was stunned silent for the briefest moment when he reached the outer gates of Hightown and was stopped by the guards stationed there.
"Sorry sir, we've been instructed not to let you leave the quarter." One of them spoke gruffly, but his words and apology were sincere. These two men, one an elf and the other human, were known to him to be paid for by his grandmother.
"Ah. I understand. Thank you, gentlemen, for your continued dedication to your positions and for your ever present protection." Timias beamed brightly at the pair before turning off towards a semi-public garden near the gate they had entered the city through not two days ago. As he strode off, the guards shared a guilty look before resuming their positions.
Being the outcast of the family was not something new to the young half-elf, but Timias couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed. After all this time he was still a pawn to be controlled and abused by his family so long as he remained within the city walls. If he wanted to attend the Temple, he would be escorted. If he wanted to go to a pub, he would be accompanied. If he wanted to see his friends, he was out of luck entirely.
He had not yet told his family the details of his traveling companions, and he felt for Miklian and Wynessa's safety that he would never allow his Ahma to know about them if he could help it. He knew the old woman had far more influence than perhaps she ought. That was the great power of the wealthy, and in the new regime they had only grown more wealthy and more powerful.
It disgusted him to his core.
The gate to the garden was left open during daylight, but besides those paid to tend the space and the few residents of Hightown who enjoyed the work of caring for the hedges and flowerbeds, the garden was often empty these days. Timias took full advantage of this and found his old favourite stone bench where he could easily watch the city gate through the metal bars of the old gate. The gate had been locked shut years and years before, but it was never converted to a stone wall like the rest of the walls that surrounded the more affluent quarter. It was a window to the outside world of the rest of the city that he had taken full advantage of for many days of his youth.
It was in this garden he had once met a young woman from a neighboring family and confessed his love for her. Beneath the very hedge beside him they had hidden notes and gifts to pass to the other unnoticed as they hoped beyond hope that they might have a life together. On the very bench he sat upon now he had kissed her in the dead of night, and the very next morning she was sent to another kingdom to marry a wealthy man her family had arranged for.
"I never understood your fascination with the common people out there." A voice pulled him from his memories as an old elvish woman stood at the gate with an aged hand wrapped around the cap of her walking cane, the other gently touching the metal bars through a gloved hand.
As soon as he came to his senses, Timias stood and bowed lowly, sweeping his hat from his head to hold it tightly under an arm. The woman before him was not a fingers width taller than him, but her presence made him feel so small. Her deep gemstone blue dress with golden accents held her regal posture perfectly as she turned to face her grandson.
"Ahma." He tried to keep his tone as level and respectful as he could, but her response was cold.
"Child. Sit." She did not move from where she stood near the gate other than to face him entirely. A pair of guards moved in closer to her and faced the city beyond the bars, keeping the older woman protected should anyone have any ideas.
"I did not expect to see you before dinner. Forgive me, I would have made myself more presentable for you." Timias moved to sit slowly on the stone bench behind him, noting the sudden chill of the still air as he made sure there was enough space should she want to sit as well.
"Don't make me laugh. I wanted to see what you would wear if the choice were yours and here you sit, a jester without a court, a clown without a ringmaster, a disappointment to me as always." The words he had so easily deflected not an hour earlier cut deeply into his heart with her calm and uncaring voice. "If this is how you choose to look when out in public, then perhaps it is best you remain within the house. For propriety's sake, you understand."
He gritted his teeth slightly as he nodded, "Of course, Ahma. I will always respect the rules of your house while I am your guest. So long as we are speaking freely-"
"We are not. You are a guest in my house until such time as I allow you to leave. Until such time you will obey my rules and you will not embarrass me any longer." The chill that had cooled the air now ran down Timias' spine. She knew something about his companions. She did not have to say anything for the intentions behind her words to be crystal clear.
"I... Yes, Ahma." Defeatedly, he moved to stand and bow deeply to his elder, turning to try to leave before her words stopped him dead in his tracks.
"You have not been excused. I require your escort back to the manor where you will get changed into something more suitable for dinner." She knew he would not oppose her in so public a space and was taking full advantage of her upper hand. The tired tanned face that turned to meet her was all she needed to know her victory in this fight was cemented.
"Yes, Ahma."