Ravaelo stares at the walls and he couldn't wipe out the bitter feelings.
A soft murmur escapes his lips, which are pressed in a unusual thin line.
So, now I'm back again in this town. And I'm not sure how to react if I see her or *the old man* She is lost for me and I can't still forget her.
A faint chuckle fades with the wind, showing all the anguish and heartaches
Your such a fool Ravaelo, you can not hide forever. And there are other womans, other people .. lets try again to find a worthy life
He nods to himself, it seems his well build body straigthens and his eyes are for a moment brighter as he begin to step toward the gate and TrollsBane ...
Achae climbs off the ship with her small bag looking very rested after her stay in the mainland. Smiling to herself she takes a small parchment out of her bag and reads it again as she has done almost the entire journey home to Gobaith.
Dearest Achae,
I think I may be able to find your nephew, I have a lead. As soon as I hear something, I will send a dove.
Sincerely,
Jacquette
Priestess of Findari
Taking a deep breath and giggling at the sailor on the dock, feeling very happy, Achae walks from the harbor then pauses at the turn. Should she go to the Druid house, or first check the hospital in Trolls Bane? Finally turning toward town, she quickly walks past the Union only stopping to pick an apple from a tree before finally reaching the south gate. It always surprised her there were still new people she hadn't met in town. Achae made a special point to meet and talk to all enjoying the bustle of the city again after her quiet time in the forest. She never thought she would actually love the city like the forest though, that surprised her more then a lot of things in her life. Being distracted, still holding her parchment and glancing down to read it again, she didnt see the man at the gate until running into him.
Oh! I am so sorry!
Flustered she blushes looking briefly up at him before realizing she no longer carried her letter. With eyes widened as she gasps while quickly looking around and seeing it float gently in the soft breeze toward the farm, she drops her bag to give chase.
So he speaks with a soft chuckle as the unknown lady with a letter heavily bumped into him. He noticed that she lost her letter and immediatelly chasing after this parchment.
With raised brows he takes her bag in his hands, unsure what he should do.
I should wait and look if she can safe the parchment. so his thought.
With a few steps he approaches the gate and let his gaze rest on her person, watching her chasing the letter against the wind, still grinning.
Ashayen, currently not seen around the town that often, took a deep breath when walking closer towards Trolls Bane. It's been a while since she entered Bane the last time but her study was more important instead of taking care of other things. The tavern, for example, the responsibility for it was something which she couldn't bear anymore. The meetings with the 'Hunter' was something which made her curious and frightened her at the same time. The aborted study by the druids of the forest was something which made her feel unsure about what she actually wants...and so was the feeling of the relationship between Edward and her as well. She lived a dream of a little Princess but had to find out that all this is not that want she wanted to be. The words of Merung came back into her mind quite often, something like - "You've changed for the worse.". And he was so right!
And so, appearing more like a shell of herself she leaded her slow and somehow reluctant steps further and narrowed her eyes when noticing the shapes of two persons in the distance. She stopped abruptly, looked back and forth...torn and finally decided to wait until the way is clear..
Running as she keeps an eye on the letter, only pausing when a bush rears up in front of her, Achae gets to the unplanted field stopping directly in the middle of it as her letter gently floats down settling itself as if ready to plant. Reaching down to pick it up, one more very slight wind moves it four steps further before settling again. Blinking now with a look of puzzlement on her face she straightens and again walks toward the letter but stops not reaching for it as it appears to be rising on it's own yet something holds it. Frozen with outstretched hand and hazel eyes wide as she even stops breathing, Achae looks at the staff that her letter appears to be pierced through. It sits upright in the earth, her letter held tightly at the top. Gasping, she now hesitantly moves forward and easily pulls her letter, now with a hole at the bottom, but the words still distinguishable and folds it placing in her belt. Achae then pulls the staff from the ground and briefly feels the power run through her she hasn't felt in a long time. Taking a deep breath finally, her eyes distracted she nods whispering to herself...
I just thought I left, but never did.
Looking now at the staff a smile gradually grows on her face.
I guess I will always be a Druid.
Achae drops the sword she had in her belt on the ground now and picking up the staff with a look of wonder on her face walks back toward the man. Her eyes have an unusual light to them, the hazel almost the green of the grass as she looks again up at him smiling with almost a revelation on her face. It is unsure if she smiles at the man or at the thoughts racing through her mind.
Thank you kind Sir for rescueing my bag. My name is Achae Eanstray.
Achae now pauses noticeably then with a little surprise whispers softly
Ravaelo bows slightly with a small smile on his lips as she finally introduced herself as a Druid.
A pleasure to met you Lady Eanstray. I'm Ravaelo and I would say its a good start for me that I met a Druid first, before I enter this town finally
He reaches out her bag and steps nearer, let his gaze travel over her shoulder for a short moment. This was enough to see *Her*. A sharp gasp escapes from him and after this his teeth biting hard in his lower lip, making another hesitate step, out of the gate in the full bright light.
Ashayen ...
It was more a whispered sigh then a call and his hand was making a gesture over his eyes as he would see a ghost. Another little step, then he seems to force his attention back to Achae.
Your.. your bag M'lady. I hope the letter is safed, too
After his words he looked again along the street to the small figure which stand so near and nevertheless so far away from him.
Still smiling as he bows Achae's head tilts at his surprised gasp and turns to follow his gaze while at the same time hearing his whisper "Ashayen". A look of delight crosses her face then, and not noticing any other reaction from Ravaelo, Achae waves to her with a voice slightly louder hoping she will hear "Ashayen! It is so good to see you after all this time!" motioning then for her to join them before looking to Ravaelo as she reaches her hand out accepting her bag. Achae looks up into his eyes...
She was standing there, motionless with just the narrowed eyes switching between the two as she kept observing them impatiently. The shoulders were slumped and the arms dangled at either sides of her body whilst the fingers slowly creeped along the cloth of her dress to fumble on it.
Her lips escaped a sigh of relief as suddenly one of the two walked out of the gate into the bright light. "Finally.."she thought and began to make some steps closer with the gaze rested upon the two...who looked at her!?
She blinked and came to an abrupt halt, now finally being close enough to notice the familiar faces!?
She swallowed hard when looking the man up and down with the gently curved eyebrows raised and the eyes widened."Ravaelo!"she thought and gasped in surprise, letting the lips allow to show an bemused smile before she heard the voice of the woman. With the gaze now turned towards the woman she slowly raised one of her hands as if greeting her from the distance, appearing unusual shy. A faint smile crossed her pale face as she lowered the hand again and she stared at the two, torn with the heart racing inside her chest. After a while she took a deep nasal breath, apparently having decided and feeling strong enough to go through whatever comes now. She came closer with the grey-blue eyes rested on Achae, revealing a light smile as she inclined the head."Be greeted, hun. Good to see you in the best of health.."she said with the gaze already gliding from her..over to Ravaelo. She inclined the head at him as well and extended one trembling hand towards him, smiling the bemused smile again. She opened her mouth to let her astonished and quiet voice sound, but just one word came over her lips"Ravaelo..."
Watching as Ashayen walks closer still smiling, her eyes look at the exchange of them both and suddenly feeling a little awkward a small blush appears on her face as she shifts her feet slightly then begins to point toward the gate hurriedly mumbling...
I, uh, I think I should go on to the hospital.
Turning to nod to Ravaelo, and giving Ashayen a brief smile knowing she was already preoccupied...
Perhaps we can get caught up at a later date?
Not waiting for an answer from her, Achae now looks up at the man seeing his gaze still on Ashayen and quickly voices her farewell.
A pleasure to meet you Sir, possibly I will see you again another time in town.
.... before picking up her staff and walking toward the gate.
Ashayen turned her head to look over to Achae, blinking in surprise about her abrupt leave she mutters, switching the gaze between the two."Uh, Achae no, it's...fine, come here again, will you? She smiled lightly, lowering the hand down as she looked up to Ravaelo, saying"It wasn't my intent to disturb your little chat. I'm sorry." With shrugging shoulders and an apologizing smile, which soon faded as she attempt to turn around again, muttering with a faint voice"I leave you both alone. Guess it was not the right time to come around.." She shook her head to herself and lowered the gaze down, slowly guiding her steps back to where she came, not waiting for any reply from them and not looking back..
Achae shakes her head, her light brown wavy hair flowing around her shoulder as she holds out her hand toward Ashayen and in a slightly louder voice.
Ashayen, wait!
Turning to whisper so softly to Ravaelo, it would be impossible for anyone else to hear.
I got the impression you two had something unfinished to talk about.
The blush readily apparent on her cheeks showing just a few freckles that weren't noticeable before.
I..I hope to see you again another time.
Turning back toward the gate again, not looking to see if Ashayen has returned nor if he went after her, her thoughts begin to roam toward the hospital.
His warm deep voice is to hear under the cherry trees along the river outside of TrollsBane. The songs you can hear are sad and melancholic, telling from lost of love and faith.
Ravaelo let pass, whilst singing and pick up cherrys and apples, the last few days in his mind.
As he had met Ashayen in the tavern his heart was bumping, loud and hard, and in this one-of-a-kind moment he knew he would love her forever. No matter if she was married or not, she would be forever his love.
As she followed him out of the tavern and he could embrace her in his arms, he had trouble to abide to his own decision to see her only as a close friend. In his blood rushes covetousness, to touch her skin, her face, her wonderful black hair.
This tiny moment in the universe was suddenly destroyed as her husband, Sir Edward Cromwell, steps out of the tavern and clicks with his tongue. Without haste he had removed his arms from Ashayen and tried to talk to this *old man*. After his statement he would be the same *Airhead* as before and Ashayen's clearly showed anger, he decided to leave with his fists covertly clenched.
Tired from his emotions he sits now under the trees and sings his songs, the slow whispering from the running river makes him sleepy and his voice fades into another sleep full of dreams , filled with things he would never get.
Mainly hiding ever since her return to Gobaith, Doyle had gone to sleep that night in a large branch of a cherry tree after filling her stomach with much needed food. Something interfered with her dream though as she shifts her weight on the branch causing a cascade of cherries to fall before finally opening her blue eyes. Blinking now, wondering what woke her she leans her head down dropping her cap from the tree as the sunlight gleams off her fiery red hair. Reaching her hand out to grab the cap only resulted in empty air as a small mutter of frustration escapes her lips before pushing off from the branch to sit holding the trunk for support. Finally looking down from her sitting position she sees a man standing there, the branches obstructing her view partially as she scoots closer to the trunk hoping he hadn't seen her but spying her cap on the ground next to him with a frown on her face.
As the cascade of cherries hit him he opens his eyes and blinks suprised around. As he noticed a cap near him he jumps up and observes with slightly narrowed eyes the area.
A last cherrie hits his head, so he looked up and sees a figure crouch in a branch near the bark from the tree.
Hey you - you lost your cap and I'm not really willing to bath in cherries, so come down here. I will not biting ...
He stands there with crossed armes, chuckling and waiting ...
Sighing still not seeing the man clearly, Doyle places both hands on the trunk of the tree holding on as gradually one foot after another finds a steady branch to climb down on. The last few feet, she suddenly pushes off and lands on the ground easily feet first amid a crunch of cherries underfoot and slides unexpectedly toward him quickly holding out her arms trying to stop yet managing to run into him with a cascade of shoulder length hair completely covering her face.
Hmph, oh!
She may from a distance with her loose blouse and pants appear more boy then woman, it is only when close her features are revealed, especially when her cap is off. Doyle now pushes some hair from her face revealing very red cheeks as her eyes turn up to his.
I'm sorry, I ...
Doyle's voice trails off as her eyes widen, the sun making the blue almost efferescent while she whispers.
Doyle places one finger to her lips at his surprised fairly loud voice then quickly looks either direction making sure no one is near before reaching for her cap placing it over her head with only a few strands of hair flying down whispering as a blush forms on her face.
Well, sort of.
Reaching for his hand she walks further from town keeping very quiet as she sits down on the soft grass before opening her bag taking her prized possession out, a worn, old, battered lute and strums on the strings once possibly getting her thoughts together then turns to face him again with voice slightly hesitant.
I, uh, I am back, or for a little anyway.
Obviously changing the subject she grins now.
Tell me what you have been doing? How is everything with you and that beautiful lady I saw you with in the tavern?
Ravaelos face appears suddenly very grievous, his eyes darkened, after her question.
Don't ask Doyle, she has break and lacerate my heart as she married this old drunkard Edward Cromwell.
Doyle's red hair was shimmering like fire in the evening sun and Ravaelos eyes traveling dreamy over her head, then he wrapped a strand around his finger with a faint smile.
Love is life, but also pain *Firehead*. You are too young to understand this maybe. Though, I don't want miss any tiny moment with her.
But lets talk about other things * Firehead* - I'm unfortunate have to leave for now - but I would like to met you tomorrow in Vanima. I truly like this Island. Its quiet, safe and you can do long wonderful walks. Will you ?
As Doyle in her boyish manner smiles and nods, he unwrapped the strand from his finger, stroking short over her cheek and turns towards Trolls Bane. As he looks back to wave to Doyle she was not any longer there, like a shadow, apparently again hidden in bushes or trees.
Ravaelo chuckles softly and warm, shaking his head as he with fast steps approaching the town.
The scar on the backside of his hand hurt badly this evenig, so he guessed the weather was about to change again.
Since Luthille had left him, his life did not have enough meaning to care about such a small thing as rain.
Half a year he was on this isle, and already he felt a hundred years older. His happiness had faded away. He did no longer want to gain a new instrument, he did no longer want to make music although this was the only thing he was able to do.
Sitting on the middle of the bridge at the east gate, he once more thought about jumping in the river and not coming up again. But something held him back, he himself did not know what it was. Stretching his freshly healed arm, and massaging the still handicaped hip, he thought how lucky he was that he had not become a cripple. Also, how lucky he was that he had had the fortune to find his true love, even if he had lost her again, and secretly knew she would never come back.
His bare feet floundered about in the cool water. Night would come within hours. Another night without her.
Sighing he sat there, and did not even recognize the stranger who approached him, stopping as it was difficult to pass with someone sitting on the slimmest part of his way.
Alan Dowland sighed once more, his eyes closed, and therefore not even noticing that the man's shadow fell over him.
Doyle was very happy seeing Ravaelo again, the one person on the island she knew without a doubt she could trust. If only he had been there the night she was dragged to the ship then back to the mainland. He said too young to know the pain of loss. Sighing briefly watching him walk away, she shivers as she whispers softly to herself.
No, that is not something I will think about.
Straightening her shoulder with increased resolve, she now disappears into the shadows with a mumbled word caught on the breeze
Firehead.
Stopping to pluck some apples from a tree easy to climb at the Farmer's Union, Doyle hides behind the bushes when finally arriving at the dock. Spying a very small ferry slowly coming toward the dock, then a family standing at the edge waiting for it, Doyle grins and quickly follows them appearing nonchalant onto the ferry. Most viewing her would think she was a boy following his family.
Ravaelo stares down at the stranger, who was sitting in the middle of the bridge, with his usual warm smile. He clears his throat --
Well I know how nice it is to dream away and maybe doze off at a river, but my friend, these are the wrong place. If a Orc is coming they will simple kick you in the water. This as a warning. I simple would like to pass ...
His dark melancholic eyes resting on the stranger, waiting for a reply or a move, obviously noticing the scar he raised both brows.
Scared up, Alan’s also melancholic grey eyes stare into his dark ones, before the young man in his late teens answers, very silent and almost inaudibly.
"Excuse me Sir, it was not my meaning to come in your way..." He murmurs while standing up and getting out of the way. As he walks towards the town, a small limp is notable with every second step.
Slowly, as it seems, Alan comes back to his right senses, and he now measures the man with a non-caring look in his eyes, perhaps not the politest way to do this.
He himself is a tall, but very slim young man, with brown, half-long hair, grey eyes and a handsome face, yet it is clouded with melancholy. One of his hands, the one with the scar on it, draws the old, originally perhaps blue cloak tighter around his neck, hiding what he carries at his belt. Although nobody can see it really, the other man could to get the impression that he is unarmed.
Finally he nods friendly, and gives Ravaelo a weak smile.
”Have a nice day, Sir…” he says, and now it is possible to recognize his beautiful, golden voice, though unmotivated and dark. ”May this town hold more good memories for you than for me…”
Turning away after this strange sentence, he stares out on the waters, listening to the wind in the trees and almost forgetting that Ravaelo is still standing right there.
They had talked for a long time, as it seemed to Alan. Relief was given to him through this talk, and he soon recognized he had met a new friend. Ravaelo assured him they would meet again soon, telling Alan he wanted him to meet some friend...
Now Alan was alone again, and with the loneliness the silence came back to him. With the silence there were memories spreading from the water like sea roses, memories about him and Luthille. Thinking off her hurt badly, too bad to stand it this time.
He stood up, and left the river, going in town. To his surprise, he managed to find a young woman, a crafter, who made two new flutes for him, for a price even he was able to pay. The instruments gave him the strength for a decision, he took his fishing rod to catch some fish, storing them for later.
Walking out of Bane, he left the road and went to the wilderness, far away from any settlement. Here he started to practice with his new instruments. It did not go well, but he had found something to concentrate on. Something to forget what had been before. He practiced and practiced, until his lip was swollen and his stomach groaned hungrily. After eating a bit, he fell to sleep. Only to reawake in the next morning, and go on with practicing like a monomaniac. He changed in these days, he became a more severe person...
But this was not only because of his dark thoughts and the effort he put in his practice. It was not the result of too few sleep and food. It happened because of a bird.
Alan lay in the grass, his lungs burning from the effort of playing the flute about six hours non-stop. He could see a bird of prey, circling between him and the sun, too far away to even guess the species. Slowly it escalated, higher and higher, its wings black against the gold of the sun.
The bard put his flute down, and watched it, as it flew up and circled down again, watching out for - and then it rushed down to the field, and disappeared out of his sight, even when he sat up he could not see it through the high grass.
He played again, and after a while it flew up again, coming nearer this time, because of the whistling sound he performed. A hawk, one of the rare Albarian black hawks. His brother Gorim had had one of those. Alan remembered it well, a beautiful bird, most of the time slightly nervous, and it did not like strangers. The only people allowed to feed it were Alan and Gorim himself. The young bard knew that this fact had made him a closer friend to his halfbrother, who was an uncommunicative person. Unfriendly, most called him. Alan knew this was not true, his halfbrother had high ideals and helped others were he could, but he was of a discreet nature. He did what had to be done, but he never talked about it.
They were the absolute opposite one of another, but they liked each other in a way most did not understand.
Alan missed Gorim. He recognized it as soon as he saw the black hawk that landed in a tree only some metres away.
Pretending one short moment, that he was back in Albar, Alan reached out his hand and gave the short whistle Gorim had taught him, saying "Shadow" silently, as he had done so many times before...
Surprisingly enough, the bird spred its wings and flew towards him, landing on his arm in a most familiar way. It could not be true...
It was. Shadow. His brother's bird. Too loyal to ever leave... Gorim. He was here, on this isle, somewhere. Perhaps nearer than one could think.
"Shadow, where is your master?" The bird's eyes met his, yet there was no answer, and Shadow did not move. Unlike normally he did not give a sign, make a sound, or guided the young man to his halfbrother. "Where is Gorim?"
Shadows swished its wings, and looked around nervously, but then stayed put. Alan recognized the bird had lost weight, it looked a lot less healthy than he remembered, the once shining feathers mat black.
Alan did not understand the bird, but he decided that it was time to look for Gorim. He went back to Bane, but even after some days, in which he fed the bird with fish he had caught, he had not found any sign of the man he was looking for. He did not give up, but when he met Ravaelo again, he decided that his brother seemed not to be in trouble, interpreting Shadow's behaviour.The two men who had just met shook hands, both pleased to meet again.
Running as fast as she could, Doyle had no idea how they recognized her then saw the strands of red hair flying in the breeze. She was glad she at least got to see Ravaelo one more time and told him why she had been gone so long. At least if she disappears again, he will know why. Almost gasping now, her arms and legs aching from the effort of her all out run, she knew she couldn't last much longer. A dagger suddenly pierced her arm causing her to trip over a rock letting them finally catch up to her.
Alright missy, it is time to go back to prison, this time there will be no escaping for you.
Both men also breathing heavily from the run grabbed her arms in a tight grip as one carelessly removed the dagger cleaning blood from it on the grass before dragging her toward the harbor.
The night without moon showed nothing of her passage from Gobaith as the ship slowly sailed away, the only thing left on the dock was a well worn hat.
After the very nice talk with Alan he walks through the woods with a smile, whistling a little melody. He had stored his crossbow on his back, thinking of Doyle.
Better she should learn more to well versed in the art of self-defense. His thought was to teach her something.
But she wasn't in Vanima ---
not even on the harbor ---
nowhere.
He was running around, searching for her, but still nothing. After a couple of hours he decided to sit on the dock for a little rest with a somewhat of frustration in his gaze. Behind a thick Barrel he spotted a familiar item - a hat, Doyles cap.
He jumps up and gasps as he grabbed the cap - some red hair was to seen inside. His dark brown eyes filled up with tears he whispered into the evening sun, still holding her cap
They caught you again my sweet little redhead ? I'll found you and if this is the last thing I do.. I will found you
With a hard glint he looks up to the ships to get the next passage to the Mainland. He wrote a small parchment addressed to Alan Dowland and give it to a small boy with some coppers to deliver the message as fast as he can.
The evening sun seen a man with a determined look in his face, leaving Gobaith.
Reading Ravaelo's note caused some pain to the young bard. He had lost his only love, and had found a friend. Now he lost this friend as well. There was no meaning in following Ravaelo, Alan was aware that he would not find him no matter how hard he tried to.
Shadow sitting on his knee, he rested outside the town walls, putting the note back into his pocket after having read it several times. His whole life was a mess. Sighing he unpacked the flute he had carried around and started to play in the evening wind, a soft little melody, every now and then there was a false tune but he got better.
Perhaps it was time to return to Varshikar. To leave Bane, the town where his heart had been torn apart. But in Varshikar, there were memories as well. There were friends who knew him from better days. Who had helped him a thousand times, and had seen him walk away in a good shape, thanks to them. How unthankful to come back depressed and dark-minded again. They deserved something better than that.
They did not need to know how he felt right now. One single letter he had left to write. To Katarine, the fine friend in the desert. She wondered most assuringly where he and Luthille were staying, and how they were. He had to tell her something. Not necessarily the truth. Paper could lie easily.
No need to worry her, or to cause her pain. She had enough on her mind.
Alan looked down, and scribbled a fast letter in his beautiful handwriting, before putting it also into his pocket. What a mess, he thought, what a total mess.
