Wanderlust (mxm)

Bonus - An Unusual Friendship

Fifteen Years Before Wanderlust

Tandrael leaned against the rickety railing, looking out at the port below him. It bustled with activity, even late into the evening. The cargo ships were being filled so that they could leave first thing in the morning, the fishing ships were bringing in their catch for the day. Two large warships were moored off to one side, silently looming over all the smaller boats. Tandrael loved the port—the salty air and the sound of waves crashing against the docks. Even though the port itself was unfamiliar, the sounds and smells were always the same and reminded him of home.

He'd been in Co for a few days already, sent to meet with the new Lord Co, Nata. Tandrael's father was supposed to be there, but he'd been sick for quite some time. Tandrael knew that his father's chance of recovery was slim. Lord West Draulin was getting old. As much as it pained him to think about it, Tandrael knew that it wouldn't be long before he stepped up to take his father's position. He had been training for the role his whole life, so he wasn't particularly worried about the responsibilities. At the same time, he didn't want to become Lord West Draulin, at least not yet. He was twenty-three, still young, and he wanted to cling to his freedom as long as he could. Being the lord of the city was an honour, of course, but a stifling one.

Suddenly something thudded against the back of Tandrael's head. He flinched out of the way, his left hand instinctively reaching up to rub his head. A Crelan was standing nearby, his arms wrapped around long beams of wood he was struggling to carry. He looked about Tandrael's age, probably a couple years younger. His dark hair was long and tied back, though some strands had fallen loose. Black tattoos ran down his bare arms.

"Sorry mate, didn't see you," the Crelan said. He shifted the way he was holding the beams. "You're all right, aye?"

"Suppose so," Tandrael replied. The pain was already fading.

"A Teltan, huh? Not many of you 'round here," the Crelan continued. "You must have come in for Lord Co's ceremony. You a knight?"

Tandrael shook his head.

The Crelan's eyes widened. "Great Roe... you're the lord, aren't you? I just hit the lord. Are you sure you aren't hurt, mate? I mean, your lordship?"

"I'm fine," Tandrael waved his hand dismissively. "Really, don't worry." He didn't like being fussed over. People seemed to think that being a lord made him fragile.

The Crelan seemed reluctant to leave. "What are you doing here?" He nodded at the deserted alley around them. "Are you lost? The back streets can be quite maze like."

"I went for a walk, wanted to see the port," Tandrael said.

"Aren't you lords usually followed by a pack of guards?"

Tandrael smiled. "I may have left them behind." The Crelan raised an eyebrow and Tandrael laughed. "You don't understand, it's very tiring to be constantly followed. I wanted to be alone." He waved out at the port. "I wanted to feel the wind and see the ocean and have a moment to myself. That said, I am a little lost."

"Well, mate, if you give me a moment to deliver these beams, I could help you out," the Crelan said.

Tandrael nodded. "That would be excellent, thank you. Where are you heading?"

"Just down to the port." The Crelan shifted the wooden beams and began to follow the street which gently sloped down to the port.

Tandrael quickly caught up. "Let me help you," he said, scooping up the top few beams before the Crelan could complain. They were heavier than he expected, and very cumbersome. He had to carry them at an angle in order to not scrape the walls at the edge of the street.