Avere sat atop a wooden bench made out of planks put in their place about half an inch apart and two inches long each one, about one inch thick, feeling quite hard, the bench being a few feet long, about long enough for him to sit down, but with nothing to support his back, good because he still had wings, now wearing casual attire.
A linen green shirt, a linen black pants, both without any embroidery, both with some strings and added trinkets to help with the head of the day after one worked long, as well as help with the cold of the night when one was about to try and sleep.
Namely both of the things he was wearing, his feet being bare, without protection, stretching within warm and lush grass that he had not felt in what felt like forever, were equipped with strings and made so that the long sleeves of the shirt could be turned into short sleeves, that the long pants could be turned into short pants, though he did guess that they would become far thicker than before.
There was a mailbox, long, wooden, sat atop a stick of wood a few inches thick, made to look a bit like a house with a flag made to be up as if he had just received mail, almost causing him to stand up and take a look inside, though he would have been met with nothing.
Other than that the bench was overgrown with plants, the underside of the planks bestowed with long openings often maltreated by plants and even a small tree having grown through it, though Avere was seated on one of the only parts of the entire thing where there was no such wild nature causing the bench to be unusable.
But more so than anything else that seemed slightly abnormal, he found abnormal that he was on a small island, just about fifteen feet in diameter, his wings having folded neatly on his back and being tickled by endless amount of grass and a specially touchy tree, he saw nothing but an endless star-covered night-sky in all directions, feeling the sun shining from above even though there was truly no sun in this place, just like back in the forsaken realm.
Had he gone a bit too far he would have died, had he not held wings on his back, when he first appeared and started wandering about, thinking about what this place was supposed to be, assuming there was something beneath him, still confused by what the other him, the Sekaria as Karan had called that thing, had said.
However, now he was just sitting on the bench, having waited for a few minutes now, feeling the tension rise at first, but having realized that it had been gone for a few minutes now, with him having waited about ten minutes now.
Then, as if the time he had waited, thinking about maybe flying through the endless night-sky, covered in points made by a humorous god to let air into the box, spreading his wings and once more getting used to flying before he might take them back into what he assumed to be reality, an hand was put on his shoulder, causing him to blow out some air through his nose, quickly turn around and grab for a sword that was not there and had not been there in quite some time.
Behind him there stood a man, his hair curly and of a dark blonde, his face pale and with slight skin problems, assigning him a big pimple onf the bridge of his nose that was a bit bigger than was average, his face overall relatively handsome and beautiful, his eyes of a deep blue but with eye-rings that gave him a sunken look that was intimidating to some people.
He stood at about six foot tall, the same as Avere, but seemed bigger than that to the Avere that was seated right now, and he was smiling, showing cracked rips that would definitely need some more water, as well as yellowish pale teeth that seemed to be taken good care of but still have some problems, a pony covering their forehead where Avere assumed there would be more acne, or whatever that appearance was supposed to be.
For a moment the man just stood there, his sunken vision intimidating the Avere who did not know nor did care to find out whether one could be killed in this place, or at least, be permanently killed.
He wore a bag he had slung around his shoulder, a big pouch of leather right under it, filled with pieces of metal, parchment, some coins, some potions, some pieces of gold or crystals, some statues smaller than he had ever assumed to be possibly made, a few swords looking as if they were made for babies.
Other than that he wore the head of a sailor, he wore long black pants and a short-sleeved black shirt with a pocket around the chest, all embroidered using white string contrasting with the black cloth that was, in turn, contrasting with the rather pale skin of the unknown man whose shoes he wasn't able to see right now but assumed to be wearing brown shoes made of light leather as was normal with people dressed in such, relatively, formal attire.
After Avere had finally sized up the man in front of him, realizing him to be dressed kind of like a messenger, or someone who brought letters to people on ehetria, be it without the big wings on his back that any ehetrian was normally bestowed with, making the entire job rather simple and quick to do, as long as the mailbox was easy to reach, the man finally opened his mouth, having closed it after first greeting Avere with a yellowish smile, and began talking in a bright but oddly normal voice, not having much power behind it, Avere feeling nothing, as if the man was not a threat at all, something he was very sure was not the case.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to show you any new memories, dear..."