Chapter CCXXXVII: Another Night, Another Village ~Travallian

In the middle of the night, a Paratroopa with vast wings flew down on a field near a small village. The cool breeze flowed through his blond hair as he stood there; the smell of the night air, and the sight of the scattered stars in the nocturnal sky….ah! Adventure was what this creature of the night did feel.

Dusting off his blue cloak in a tranquil fashion with his right hand, he tapped his emerald staff upon the grass with his left. Travallian III was the name of this immortal Paratroopa with no shell. He folded his wings behind him and gazed at the village before him. A stern expression outlined his face and a tiresome sigh escaped his mouth.

“Set foot on this area, I hath not done up till now,” he softly said to himself. “In this form, I shall remain. Hopefully…I will not trouble anyone here. All I want is to rest from my journeys when morning comes. Afterwards, I shall be off on my way once more.”

Clutching the edge of his cape in a fidgety manner, Travallian flung the cape behind him and began to walk onward toward the peaceful village, using his long, narrow staff as if it were a walking stick. Lights of candles were seen in few open windows as he passed through the streets quietly. The soft melody of an instrument being played could be heard flowing within the air. It could have been a piano of some sort. Travallian was not quite sure. He could hear it coming from one of the more regal homes in the area.

He stopped near the village’s fountain that had a small statue of what appeared to be an interpretation of a mermaid. There, he listened. The tune soothed him into a peaceful behavior, tempting him to draw closer to the residence, flying up to peer through the window, and observe who was playing such stunning music. In spite of this, he had to hold himself back in fear of scaring the one who was playing the composition in this time of day. Closing his eyes slowly, he concentrated on the sounds around his surroundings.

No one…seems to be walking out in the streets, he thought to himself, a faint smirk curved his lips. That is a good thing. I do not want to cause a scene if I am ever struck by my thirst for blood tonight…

The music steadily came to an end. Travallian opened his eyes to see the mortal by the window in the second floor of the noble abode. It was a young human, it appeared to be: a boy going through his teenage years with curly dark hair, which was tied with a velvet lace behind him in an eighteenth century fashion. The lad grinned as he glanced outside, not seeing Travallian at all, it seemed. A call from within the house was heard and the young man then pulled the wooden shutters of the windows closed. An inhuman chuckle came from Travallian as he got back onto his feet.

“I knew that such amusement would not last long.”

Unexpectedly, Travallian could hear the voices and thoughts of mortals leaving a supposable bar. He hurriedly spread his wings and flew up onto a store roof. From there, he saw a gang of five individuals, carelessly wobbling their way through the streets together. Two boisterous humans, one draconian with his left eye scarred, an old volatile dwarf, and a broken-winged sidhe, they seemed to be. They sounded blissfully drunk as they bluntly sang in a grotesque quality. Their minds were slurred with so many diverse thoughts that it gave the old vampire a headache. The sound of them naturally made him put his hands to the sides of his head and grit his teeth in an irritated fashion.
“What a pitiful noise these mortals do make!” he roared out in reaction to the sudden booming sound of this small drunk group. “Do not they any manners at all?! Others are sleeping!”

Alas, these ill mannered folk continued their nerve racking chorus. It was enough to drive the otherworldly creature to the point of insanity! Travallian silently began to run above the rooftops of each accommodation he approached, gliding upon the dark colored shingles as if his feet did not touch their surfaces at all. When Travallian reached the end of the housetops, he leapt down onto a brick foundation. He knelt there momentarily, lifting his head up to catch a glimpse of what seemed to be a castle constructed in the way a medieval fortress would have been built. He stood up and examined its structure carefully. He could tell that it was built quite some time ago. Vines seemed to have grown immensely over the old stone walls from all the years this palace has been built here into existence. Mold formed upon the ill tended stone bricks which were rimming the windows and iron doors. Travallian stepped closer to examine further. The closed shutters of the windows were filthy, moldy pieces of wood closed together with painted gold lining that began to fade away. The gates protecting the castle were rusted and black paint appeared to chip away from the bars. The path leading from the gateway to the castle’s entrance was of simple earth pounded down hard together. Travallian could tell since cracks were forming wear both grass and the path met. Other than that, the front garden showed great beauty and looked very much so cared well for, giving the castle worthy appeal despite its old age…or so Travallian thought.

Peering from side to side of his surroundings, he was certain that everyone was asleep in the area of the village, so he walked over to the gates of the castle with his staff in one hand as a slightly walking aid. He reached over and touched the rusty bars of the gate with one hand. He hummed out an old royal tune of his people then went silent for a few seconds, then spoke in a low voice, “This gives me such memories and flashback to see such a structure. Oh, how I miss my kingdom. Such a time has past since I have been there…”