Tugged by a Red String [Emil || Richter]
Without the stress and constant need to move that came with saving the world, Emil had taken up the hobby of travelling. Initially, he had returned to Luin, and while he had stayed there temporarily, no amount of change could turn the lake-side city into a safe heaven. On it's own, Luin was quite beautiful and charming - clean and well-kept, having been restored twice over from damage it acquired in accidents without fail. Alas, the visual merits of the town did little to overpower the clear aura of fear and unease that seemed to follow him wherever he went. The citizens were, admittedly, less hostile, but it wasn't enough to make it feel like a "home."
Thus, he'd packed up his scarce belongings and the healthy sum of gald he'd acquired over his previous travels and set out. There had never been a set destination in mind, as long as it wasn't Luin, not for now, anyway, Emil was certain he'd be satisfied.
During his brief venture across Aselia, he'd found that he would return to the same spots multiple times. Most often Palmacosta and Izoold. He liked to think it was the ocean. Despite his less-than-satisfactory ability to swim beyond a doggy-paddle, he'd come to love the ocean. The cool, gentle breeze that blew over the water was relaxing, and the salty smell of the air had become something familiar to him. Yet Palmacosta was huge, and while he didn't bare a grudge against people, sometimes the larger population could be too much and he'd need to get away.
Somewhere along the line, he'd started to frequent Izoold more and more. It was a humble city, with all the enjoyable parts of the ocean, just on a smaller scale. He didn't have to worry about crowds or getting lost in the hustle and bustle of business. He could relax and move about at a leisurely place as he continued to adjust and try to make sense of his new-found freedom. The innkeeper had started to recognise his face, and even offered him kind discounts more often than not due to his frequent visits. It was just... nice.
It was still early morning when Emil slipped out of the inn, intending to make his way toward the port to acquire supplies for making breakfast. The man at the front desk had offered an all-too-tempting deal of a free bed in return for a home-cooked breakfast the following morning, and the young blond was more than willing to help.
Stretching, a small smile tugged at the corners of Emil's lips as he took off at a slight sprint away from the building - he didn't want to keep the owner waiting - only to collide with something warm and solid the moment he'd hit the dirt path that ran through the city. "A-ah...!" Stumbling, he let out a small yelp of surprise as he felt himself slip backwards under the loose footing of the pathway, heading for the ground back-first.