A letter arrives in Salkamar, from a man on Gobiath. The bird looks tired, but will be fine. It had been rolled carefully, and something rests inside. It is held closed by a blue ribbon, and a few pieces of yarn.
"Dear Ayla,
You have yet to send word to me, so I make the first move. How are you? It has been so long since that day you left on the boat from Gobiath, and many things have happened. Dain has taken control of all of Julius's buildings. Including the Eldan Monastary, and Kallahorn. He has been up to his usual tricks, and some odd things are happening on Hellsbriar. But this is the cycle of our land. Jorokar's term is begining to wind down, and he spends it idle. He seems broken and torn, and isolates himself entirely within the Seahorse.
I have kept the knights as safe as I can. I know it is not much, but when they are broken I try to hold off their enemies, and lift their spirits. My body has been harmed, but it has healed as well. All in the cycle of life.
I hope you are ok, and I hope that Rin is fine as well. Have you found a way to carry yourself through this time? Elisabeth is fine, as is Dan. Mark has developed quite well in his smithing skills, surpassing me. I have kept myself well, but a plague has struck the islands pigs. They are ill and do not produce any longer. Times are growing hard on Gobiath, but it is becoming better at the same time. A movement is happening within the people, and its easily seen but hard to tell what it is. It is a different place, and yet there are still mentions of that elven woman with the grace and whimsy of Findari who left so long ago. With hope I send you her flute as goodwill.
Wishing your return and safety like a comforting breeze,
Your friend,
Artimer Fault."
As the letter is unrolled, a firnis blossom falls out.
(( Closed RP ))
A letter from the past
Moderator: Gamemasters
It had been a generally lazy day, actually. Ayla, clad in a long white dress made of soft material, was lounged across a long bed of sorts as the young girl Elarinya, dressed much the same, played upon the carpet on the floor. The two rested in a temple in the midst of Salkamar, one ran by women alone. Of all places for the once proud fighter of Gobaith to reside, she now sat within the halls of the grand Temple of Sirani. As time passed in comfortable silence within the chambers she had taken upon her arrival, Ayla idly busied herself with weaving a plait down her hair, eyes steady upon Elarinya as a gentle yet not particularly content smile rested on the elfess' lips.
Not long after, a solid knock rose the elfess from her meandering thoughts. As she looked to the solid wood door of her chambers, Ayla rose from the slender bed with a soft sigh. Brushing the long braid of white hair over one shoulder, she moved toward the door. Her left hand, bearing a ruby ring on its middle finger, pulled the heavy door open slowly to reveal one of the young female acolytes standing just outside the doorway with a rolled parchment clasped gently in one hand. With a smile, the young human girl handed the parchment over while speaking.
"This came from a man outside the temple. And the High Priestess says that we shall gather in two hours for a meal. She wishes you to join us, m'lady. As a guest to the house of Sirani, you should not be excluded." The young woman looks to the girl playing on the rug. "Neither you nor your daughter." With a bow of her head, the girl turned on her heels and scurried off down the corridor.
With a slight shake of her head, accompanied by a smile, Ayla stepped back into the chambers and closed the door. Walking back to the long, slender bed, the elfess tugs the ribbon about the parchment off, blinking as the blossom tumbles to the floor. With furrowed brows, Ayla seats herself on the bed and reaches down for the firnis blossom as her eyes run over the writing. Her lips moved silently with the words, a low chuckle coming from her as she finishes. Setting the blossom aside upon the linens of the bed, Ayla rose from her seat and moved to the desk set to the side. Easily enough, she pulled out a quill, ink and parchment before scrawling over the fresh parchment absently.
Artimer,
It is good to hear from you, my friend. To be blatant, I am not in the least
surprised to hear of Dain and his usual ways, as you call them. Perhaps I
saw it coming as I saw the disaster of Jorokar going for governor. Let him
take control of whatever he wishes, it bids no interest to me. The lands of
Gobaith will just be passed back and forth between Laiden and Rothman,
that should be readily obvious. As for Jorokar's term coming to an end, it
is about time. I fear that was a mistake I will never forgive myself for
making. Foolish for us all to support such a haphazard cause. And to his
broken and sad ways, I am surprised. I figured he'd only grow more
arrogant as his tendencies demand.
I am glad, however, that you have kept the Knighthood together. It is
more than I can say for myself, at least. As for being harmed, you are
right. Not only is it a part of life, but a part of living in Troll's Bane in
general. I have to admit that I've enjoyed my break away from that
treacherous and deceitful place. Somewhat, at least.
As for Elarinya and myself, I can only say that life is well. We have taken
residence upon the lands of a Temple of Sirani. Strange of me, yes, but
they have provided my daughter and I generously, both with shelter and
food. Money in general is a bit hard to come by, for I have refused to
work as a mercenary, guard or anything of the like. And you know well
that I fail as a merchant or craftsman. But, no fear. The Gods have
blessed the two of us generously.
It pleases me greatly to hear how well most everyone is doing back on the
isle. I must admit that for the most part, I find myself a bit homesick. I
miss my dear friends and endless companionship, as is natural. However,
I cannot make myself return and you know fully the reason. At least, you
should. Tell those who care to know that I am doing well for the time
being.
Thank you for the blossom. It means a lot to me.
Farewell and may the Five guide you,
~ Ayla To'lorn
Once finished with the letter, the elfess rises slowly from the chair. Blowing on the parchment carefully, she lets the ink dry before rolling the material about itself. A thin white thread is placed about it, tying it securely. The parchment tucked into the small crimson purse against one hip, Ayla moves over to the young Elarinya and picks her up from the ground with a low mutter. She would send the letter in an hour or so. But for now, contentment was all that mattered.
Not long after, a solid knock rose the elfess from her meandering thoughts. As she looked to the solid wood door of her chambers, Ayla rose from the slender bed with a soft sigh. Brushing the long braid of white hair over one shoulder, she moved toward the door. Her left hand, bearing a ruby ring on its middle finger, pulled the heavy door open slowly to reveal one of the young female acolytes standing just outside the doorway with a rolled parchment clasped gently in one hand. With a smile, the young human girl handed the parchment over while speaking.
"This came from a man outside the temple. And the High Priestess says that we shall gather in two hours for a meal. She wishes you to join us, m'lady. As a guest to the house of Sirani, you should not be excluded." The young woman looks to the girl playing on the rug. "Neither you nor your daughter." With a bow of her head, the girl turned on her heels and scurried off down the corridor.
With a slight shake of her head, accompanied by a smile, Ayla stepped back into the chambers and closed the door. Walking back to the long, slender bed, the elfess tugs the ribbon about the parchment off, blinking as the blossom tumbles to the floor. With furrowed brows, Ayla seats herself on the bed and reaches down for the firnis blossom as her eyes run over the writing. Her lips moved silently with the words, a low chuckle coming from her as she finishes. Setting the blossom aside upon the linens of the bed, Ayla rose from her seat and moved to the desk set to the side. Easily enough, she pulled out a quill, ink and parchment before scrawling over the fresh parchment absently.
Artimer,
It is good to hear from you, my friend. To be blatant, I am not in the least
surprised to hear of Dain and his usual ways, as you call them. Perhaps I
saw it coming as I saw the disaster of Jorokar going for governor. Let him
take control of whatever he wishes, it bids no interest to me. The lands of
Gobaith will just be passed back and forth between Laiden and Rothman,
that should be readily obvious. As for Jorokar's term coming to an end, it
is about time. I fear that was a mistake I will never forgive myself for
making. Foolish for us all to support such a haphazard cause. And to his
broken and sad ways, I am surprised. I figured he'd only grow more
arrogant as his tendencies demand.
I am glad, however, that you have kept the Knighthood together. It is
more than I can say for myself, at least. As for being harmed, you are
right. Not only is it a part of life, but a part of living in Troll's Bane in
general. I have to admit that I've enjoyed my break away from that
treacherous and deceitful place. Somewhat, at least.
As for Elarinya and myself, I can only say that life is well. We have taken
residence upon the lands of a Temple of Sirani. Strange of me, yes, but
they have provided my daughter and I generously, both with shelter and
food. Money in general is a bit hard to come by, for I have refused to
work as a mercenary, guard or anything of the like. And you know well
that I fail as a merchant or craftsman. But, no fear. The Gods have
blessed the two of us generously.
It pleases me greatly to hear how well most everyone is doing back on the
isle. I must admit that for the most part, I find myself a bit homesick. I
miss my dear friends and endless companionship, as is natural. However,
I cannot make myself return and you know fully the reason. At least, you
should. Tell those who care to know that I am doing well for the time
being.
Thank you for the blossom. It means a lot to me.
Farewell and may the Five guide you,
~ Ayla To'lorn
Once finished with the letter, the elfess rises slowly from the chair. Blowing on the parchment carefully, she lets the ink dry before rolling the material about itself. A thin white thread is placed about it, tying it securely. The parchment tucked into the small crimson purse against one hip, Ayla moves over to the young Elarinya and picks her up from the ground with a low mutter. She would send the letter in an hour or so. But for now, contentment was all that mattered.
Artimer awoke as the sun rose the next day. He yawned and got dressed, smiling as Elisabeth slept soundly. He crept outside, only to see a bird waiting with a letter for him. He took it and walked out to the apple tree in front of the house, and read it silently.
Artimer walked inside the house and took a fresh parchment and a quill in a bottle of ink and quickly set to work.
"Dear Ayla,
You are happy I take it then? Well I am glad that you are well, and that Elarinya is fine as well. I may have made it sounded like I have done alot for the knighthood, but I haven't really. I have just sat back and watched and tried to help Mark when he was attacked.. or rather after he was attacked and ended up getting attacked instead.
How is life there at the Temple? And.. I thought you hated Sirani priestesses? No matter.. do you still have the stone I gave you, and the one for Elarinya? If you need help, someone will come to you from here.. it may not be me, but it will be someone, that I will make sure of.
How is it there in Salkamar? I miss it so much!
Waiting to hear from you,
Artimer."
As Artimer signed his name, he rolled it carefully again. He tied a green ribbon to it, and some more yarn. He fed the bird a bite of bread, and sent it off once more. Artimer then took Ayla's reply letter, and sent it off with another bird to Dantagon Marescot.
"Well.. I may get beat for making myself seeming so highly, but.. I tried to seem optimistic. Yes.. thats it." He nods reassuring himself as the bird flies off.
Artimer walked inside the house and took a fresh parchment and a quill in a bottle of ink and quickly set to work.
"Dear Ayla,
You are happy I take it then? Well I am glad that you are well, and that Elarinya is fine as well. I may have made it sounded like I have done alot for the knighthood, but I haven't really. I have just sat back and watched and tried to help Mark when he was attacked.. or rather after he was attacked and ended up getting attacked instead.
How is life there at the Temple? And.. I thought you hated Sirani priestesses? No matter.. do you still have the stone I gave you, and the one for Elarinya? If you need help, someone will come to you from here.. it may not be me, but it will be someone, that I will make sure of.
How is it there in Salkamar? I miss it so much!
Waiting to hear from you,
Artimer."
As Artimer signed his name, he rolled it carefully again. He tied a green ribbon to it, and some more yarn. He fed the bird a bite of bread, and sent it off once more. Artimer then took Ayla's reply letter, and sent it off with another bird to Dantagon Marescot.
"Well.. I may get beat for making myself seeming so highly, but.. I tried to seem optimistic. Yes.. thats it." He nods reassuring himself as the bird flies off.
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Dantagon Marescot
- Posts: 1948
- Joined: Mon Sep 04, 2006 8:38 am
- Location: Illarion Public Library
The dove Artimer sent would not have to go far to find Dan. He was headed back to Trolls Bane early in the morning, morning dew rested upon his armor. As the dove flew nearer to him, he raised his steel gloved hand to block out the sun which shown in his eyes. The dove flew closers, not about to change her path. Upon realizing the dove was directed to him, he held out his arm to allow her a place to land.
Dan undid the parchment from the dove's leg. He slid it under his belt and went for the leather pouch on his side. Upon opening, he grabed a small wrapped bundle which he then placed on the ground and pulled back the cloth. The dove immediately hopped off his arm and went for her well deserved meal of seeds.
While the dove ate, Dan unwrapped the parchment. His light blue eyes scanned over the parchment, softening as memories from the past returned. Ayla... The knight who Jorokar foolishly chased away from his life and in turn the knighthood. When she left, he almost did as well. But they couldn't just let it fall apart, after all that work. And yet, it did fall apart. Moral falls when a knight leaves for no real reason... and it did.
Dan rolled the parchment back up. His eyes dropped to the ground as he thought over her words. She was home sick... she missed her friends... and by all means did most of them miss her. She may not be able to make herself return, but maybe they could. It was time for the knighthood to keep to their codes. You don't turn your back on your friends.
Perhaps it was time that the knighthood gave Ayla a visit and bring their knight back.
Dan undid the parchment from the dove's leg. He slid it under his belt and went for the leather pouch on his side. Upon opening, he grabed a small wrapped bundle which he then placed on the ground and pulled back the cloth. The dove immediately hopped off his arm and went for her well deserved meal of seeds.
While the dove ate, Dan unwrapped the parchment. His light blue eyes scanned over the parchment, softening as memories from the past returned. Ayla... The knight who Jorokar foolishly chased away from his life and in turn the knighthood. When she left, he almost did as well. But they couldn't just let it fall apart, after all that work. And yet, it did fall apart. Moral falls when a knight leaves for no real reason... and it did.
Dan rolled the parchment back up. His eyes dropped to the ground as he thought over her words. She was home sick... she missed her friends... and by all means did most of them miss her. She may not be able to make herself return, but maybe they could. It was time for the knighthood to keep to their codes. You don't turn your back on your friends.
Perhaps it was time that the knighthood gave Ayla a visit and bring their knight back.
-
abcfantasy
- Posts: 1799
- Joined: Thu Dec 14, 2006 10:44 pm
- Location: Yes.
- Contact:
It was late one evening, the skies darkened already. A few people still strolled by through the fairly quiet streets of Troll's Bane, with some laughing and chatting heard vaguely in the distance. It was quieter at the Seahorse building, and through one closed window, one observed a dim orange light, emanating from a lit candle that was laying on the fine wooden desk.
Inside that room, a quill was idly resting in an opened bottle of ink, and a few papers crumpled and scattered at the side. One piece of parchment was flattened at the centre, with a few lines written on it, but clearly still by far incomplete. It was laying between two elbows of a sitting man, who's hands were raised and fingers entwined. The solemn and unsmiling look on the man's visage was a recent characteristic of Jorokar. He was thoughtful and unsure of the letter he had began writing it, which was a few days before, and still he hadn't complete it.
He faced this feeling of need to write the letter in his lonesome moments, but most of the times reacted with anger and disappointment. He had sworn upon what was left of him to be a man of strength, determination and unbreakable will. Viewing the few words that he himself had written on the piece of parchment gave a feeling of softness and frailty. It meant that he was yielding to what he promised himself, weakly falling into the grasps of desperation and unsatisfied longings. This feeling only led to anger, this time having him striking the bottle with his hand, which resulted in ink spilling across the table and some on the carpeted floor. Looking at the small disaster he had done, he sighed exasperatedly and remained still, attempting to calm down.
However the silence was soon broken by a few knocks on the large door - most likely, just another person needing a talk with the Governor. Quickly and carelessly, Jorokar slid the desk's drawer out and placed the letter inside it, not bothering about the staining ink.
Inside that room, a quill was idly resting in an opened bottle of ink, and a few papers crumpled and scattered at the side. One piece of parchment was flattened at the centre, with a few lines written on it, but clearly still by far incomplete. It was laying between two elbows of a sitting man, who's hands were raised and fingers entwined. The solemn and unsmiling look on the man's visage was a recent characteristic of Jorokar. He was thoughtful and unsure of the letter he had began writing it, which was a few days before, and still he hadn't complete it.
He faced this feeling of need to write the letter in his lonesome moments, but most of the times reacted with anger and disappointment. He had sworn upon what was left of him to be a man of strength, determination and unbreakable will. Viewing the few words that he himself had written on the piece of parchment gave a feeling of softness and frailty. It meant that he was yielding to what he promised himself, weakly falling into the grasps of desperation and unsatisfied longings. This feeling only led to anger, this time having him striking the bottle with his hand, which resulted in ink spilling across the table and some on the carpeted floor. Looking at the small disaster he had done, he sighed exasperatedly and remained still, attempting to calm down.
However the silence was soon broken by a few knocks on the large door - most likely, just another person needing a talk with the Governor. Quickly and carelessly, Jorokar slid the desk's drawer out and placed the letter inside it, not bothering about the staining ink.
Last edited by abcfantasy on Mon Jul 28, 2008 9:31 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Kaila Galathil Travinus
- Posts: 539
- Joined: Sat Dec 16, 2006 9:50 am
- Contact:
Sitting on a log near the workshop while waiting for Eli, keeping a close eye on Darren as he crawls toward an apple tree, Kaila starts to frown looking at the empty space before her. At one time, she pictured a house there with Ayla at the door inviting her inside, then when her son was born, pictured their children playing happily together. Sighing she folds up her knees close to her wrapping her arms around them.
Things change, but, we don't have to like them.
Her distracted look all of a sudden clears with an exclamation of surprise seeing her son pull up if only temporarily to stand next to the tree before falling back on his butt not whimpering at all as he then turns and crawls to another object catching his interest. Laughing now she speaks in a loving tone to him.
You are so bright, wait until Daddy hears of this!
At his giggle of delight before turning to reach for a particularly beautiful flower she smiles then with one more pensive look, sighing heavily....
I do miss her...you would love someone else to play with.
Things change, but, we don't have to like them.
Her distracted look all of a sudden clears with an exclamation of surprise seeing her son pull up if only temporarily to stand next to the tree before falling back on his butt not whimpering at all as he then turns and crawls to another object catching his interest. Laughing now she speaks in a loving tone to him.
You are so bright, wait until Daddy hears of this!
At his giggle of delight before turning to reach for a particularly beautiful flower she smiles then with one more pensive look, sighing heavily....
I do miss her...you would love someone else to play with.
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abcfantasy
- Posts: 1799
- Joined: Thu Dec 14, 2006 10:44 pm
- Location: Yes.
- Contact:
Jorokar, clad in his usual steel armor made by elven hands, with a red cape outlined in gold flowing down his back, was loitering slowly and calmly about the Seahorse Building's roof, observing the surroundings with his inexpressive gaze. As he slowly made to the northern side of the roof, he flung a bare hand to hit an annoying fly. His attention however was soon stolen by the family near the workshop.
The man's dark brown eyes stared over the shrubs and towards the elven lady and the child. Despite the lack of any emotion apparent on his visage, that particular stare did give a hint of thoughtfulness and interest. He could distantly hear Kaila's voice, but could not comprehend the words. That did not matter. The child with his pointed ears and the mother being of elven blood gave Jorokar a very strange feeling, quite possibly that of nostalgia. Though even if it was, perhaps the feeling and the thoughts were enough by this time, and anything more was unneeded now - or so he considered.
Soon at one moment, the child's wide eyed gaze shifted to meet that of Jorokar's who was still watching from the Seahorse's roof. That's where the thoughts faded away. In the slight hesitation for the fear of being seen by Kaila, he turned around, causing a light brushing noise against the leaves of the shrubs. He headed to the stairs, his red cape flickering back with the wind. He climbed down the stairs, making his way to the building's doors.
The man's dark brown eyes stared over the shrubs and towards the elven lady and the child. Despite the lack of any emotion apparent on his visage, that particular stare did give a hint of thoughtfulness and interest. He could distantly hear Kaila's voice, but could not comprehend the words. That did not matter. The child with his pointed ears and the mother being of elven blood gave Jorokar a very strange feeling, quite possibly that of nostalgia. Though even if it was, perhaps the feeling and the thoughts were enough by this time, and anything more was unneeded now - or so he considered.
Soon at one moment, the child's wide eyed gaze shifted to meet that of Jorokar's who was still watching from the Seahorse's roof. That's where the thoughts faded away. In the slight hesitation for the fear of being seen by Kaila, he turned around, causing a light brushing noise against the leaves of the shrubs. He headed to the stairs, his red cape flickering back with the wind. He climbed down the stairs, making his way to the building's doors.
Time seemed to be passing particularly slowly, all of a sudden. The random connection back to the Island of Gobaith had spurred a certain anticipation in Ayla. Days passed in vague unease for the elfess before that second letter made its appearance. The strange relief that bubbled up within her chest as the rolled parchment was laid in her hands made Ayla hesitate. What had her so suddenly longing for these letters? She had broken all ties to even her closest of friends back on Gobaith. Or so she thought... The months of no letters, no nothing had made Ayla believe that they personally didn't care as much as they had pretended to. She had easily enough accepted that fact and was sorted out to spend long years on the mainlands. But three months into her disappearance from Gobaith, to receive such a letter... It changed things.
The sun was beginning to set, resting just on the horizon in the far distance. A certain freshness lingered around the place, soft melodies of dripping water from the passing rain of earlier drawing the surrounding land into a peaceful lull. Ayla, alone for now as Elarinya entertained some of the young human girls, had slipped out of the confines of the Temple. She found herself walking slowly along a narrow path that wound down the hill that the temple rested upon. The path, wide enough for only a single person at once, led down to soft white sand of one of the many deserted shorelines. The salty breezes that lifted up from the cresting waves of the ocean blew the thin material of Ayla's dress against her body, her head in turn lifting to welcome the comforting winds. In her left hand which moved at her side with every other step, was clasped that rolled parchment. On her right shoulder sat the strap to a small leather bag, squared off by whatever item it contained. The elfess picked her way along the shore until she drew up to a large, smooth stone that was planted solidly amongst the mass of sand. Easing down onto the boulder, Ayla let her eyes drift off over the water that stretched before her. Her expression was solemn and thoughtful, unmindful to the breezes that found it necessary to brush white locks of hair across her face.
Before long, she set the small bag down and unrolled the parchment in her left hand, reading over the words Artimer had written. Happy.. She wouldn't exactly call it that. Content, maybe.. Taken care of. But happy? With a shake of her head, followed by an off-handed chuckle, Ayla rolled the parchment up slowly and reached for the bag, setting the paper inside and drawing a small and intricate box out instead. Opening the prized and familiar box, Ayla revealed a set of parchment, a quill and that small bottle of ink. Taking the materials out and balancing the bottle next to her, Ayla flattened the parchment over the smooth surface of the box before she began writing slowly, her eyes half-closed in thought.
Artimer,
Yes, I am happy for the most part. Why wouldn't I be, what with the life I
have right now? There is peace, comfort, nothing in particular to worry
about. I could not ask for better when it comes to where I am at. The
Temple is magnificent, stretching over this large and grassy hill. There's
this little path that I favor, it leads right down to the shore. In fact, it's
where I'm at right now. Probably the most beautiful sight anyone could
ever find.
As for the fact about it being a Temple of Sirani, I have dealt with that. My
grudge against priestesses would lay on one pair of shoulders alone, I
suppose. These women I reside with are not the loose, corrupt sort that
wander about Gobaith. But then again, the majority of them are simple
acolytes that haven't "found the calling" of Sirani yet. I pray they never
do, in a way. And to the offer of help, I assure you. Do not worry over
me, Artimer, as I am doing grandly. Do not bother others to leave the isle
for fear something is wrong with me. It is not as if I am an important
face to Gobaith anymore, if I ever was, and it would only be a waste of
their time.
Salkamar in general is absolutely lovely. From where I stay, I can look
down on the massive city. Something about it vaguely reminds me of
Troll's Bane, though ironically enough the crime is far less, just as it's size
is far greater. Perhaps it's the many Knights and Paladins that walk the
streets which reminds me of the place. Because of that, I try not to make
a habit of wandering her streets often. I find myself wanting to distance
away from the Fighter's life more and more. Strange, isn't it?
And yes, for the record, I do have the amethysts. I have considered the
idea of getting them shaped into amulets for Rin and I, but have yet to
get to doing so. As for yourself, I ask you to be careful. Wouldn't do for
you to go getting hurt in the name of the Knighthood.
Send my blessings to the others if you will.
Farewell and may the Five guide you,
~ Ayla To'lorn
A good while had passed, Ayla unaware as she scrawled over the parchment. By the time she set the quill aside and looked up, the sun was almost gone. Just enough light for her to see, really, and the area was beginning to look grey. Sitting for a moment longer, Ayla let the ink dry before she rolled the parchment about itself and gathered the object back into the box. Once that too was set away, the elfess rose from the stone with a stretch and moved back along to the path.
After reaching the Temple once more, Ayla moved along one corridor slowly. Passing through a door, she came upon one of the higher priestesses that served as a mentor for the acolytes. Smiles passed between the two, the elfess bowed her head and stepped forward with her parchment in hand.
"Will you send this to the isle of Gobaith? A hawk will do, I wouldn't wish to kill off all of your doves for the exertion needed."
Ayla spoke the words quietly as she looked up to the human woman, who simply smiled with a nod before taking the parchment.
As Ayla turned to leave, she heard the slightly raspy voice of the woman.
"You are sending an unusual amount of letters, lady To'lorn. And such a long distance. Are you planning on leaving us after such a short visit?"
Ayla hesitated, looking ahead past the open door and down the candle-lit corridor. Many seconds passed before she gave a low laugh.
"I do not plan on it, High Priestess. They simply worry about me, I suppose. I try to reassure them."
A similar chuckle from the woman followed Ayla's response before she waved a dismissive hand.
"My dear, be glad that they worry. It means they sorely miss you. Perhaps it is an ill idea to sever yourself as you have."
The elfess remained where she stood for a passing moment before letting her eyes drop to the marble floor. With an unreadable look, she moved off in complete silence. The last thing she wished to admit right now was that the Priestess was right. Not only did they sorely miss her, but it was mutual. Folding her arms about her thinning frame, Ayla moved on hurriedly back in the direction of her chambers.
The sun was beginning to set, resting just on the horizon in the far distance. A certain freshness lingered around the place, soft melodies of dripping water from the passing rain of earlier drawing the surrounding land into a peaceful lull. Ayla, alone for now as Elarinya entertained some of the young human girls, had slipped out of the confines of the Temple. She found herself walking slowly along a narrow path that wound down the hill that the temple rested upon. The path, wide enough for only a single person at once, led down to soft white sand of one of the many deserted shorelines. The salty breezes that lifted up from the cresting waves of the ocean blew the thin material of Ayla's dress against her body, her head in turn lifting to welcome the comforting winds. In her left hand which moved at her side with every other step, was clasped that rolled parchment. On her right shoulder sat the strap to a small leather bag, squared off by whatever item it contained. The elfess picked her way along the shore until she drew up to a large, smooth stone that was planted solidly amongst the mass of sand. Easing down onto the boulder, Ayla let her eyes drift off over the water that stretched before her. Her expression was solemn and thoughtful, unmindful to the breezes that found it necessary to brush white locks of hair across her face.
Before long, she set the small bag down and unrolled the parchment in her left hand, reading over the words Artimer had written. Happy.. She wouldn't exactly call it that. Content, maybe.. Taken care of. But happy? With a shake of her head, followed by an off-handed chuckle, Ayla rolled the parchment up slowly and reached for the bag, setting the paper inside and drawing a small and intricate box out instead. Opening the prized and familiar box, Ayla revealed a set of parchment, a quill and that small bottle of ink. Taking the materials out and balancing the bottle next to her, Ayla flattened the parchment over the smooth surface of the box before she began writing slowly, her eyes half-closed in thought.
Artimer,
Yes, I am happy for the most part. Why wouldn't I be, what with the life I
have right now? There is peace, comfort, nothing in particular to worry
about. I could not ask for better when it comes to where I am at. The
Temple is magnificent, stretching over this large and grassy hill. There's
this little path that I favor, it leads right down to the shore. In fact, it's
where I'm at right now. Probably the most beautiful sight anyone could
ever find.
As for the fact about it being a Temple of Sirani, I have dealt with that. My
grudge against priestesses would lay on one pair of shoulders alone, I
suppose. These women I reside with are not the loose, corrupt sort that
wander about Gobaith. But then again, the majority of them are simple
acolytes that haven't "found the calling" of Sirani yet. I pray they never
do, in a way. And to the offer of help, I assure you. Do not worry over
me, Artimer, as I am doing grandly. Do not bother others to leave the isle
for fear something is wrong with me. It is not as if I am an important
face to Gobaith anymore, if I ever was, and it would only be a waste of
their time.
Salkamar in general is absolutely lovely. From where I stay, I can look
down on the massive city. Something about it vaguely reminds me of
Troll's Bane, though ironically enough the crime is far less, just as it's size
is far greater. Perhaps it's the many Knights and Paladins that walk the
streets which reminds me of the place. Because of that, I try not to make
a habit of wandering her streets often. I find myself wanting to distance
away from the Fighter's life more and more. Strange, isn't it?
And yes, for the record, I do have the amethysts. I have considered the
idea of getting them shaped into amulets for Rin and I, but have yet to
get to doing so. As for yourself, I ask you to be careful. Wouldn't do for
you to go getting hurt in the name of the Knighthood.
Send my blessings to the others if you will.
Farewell and may the Five guide you,
~ Ayla To'lorn
A good while had passed, Ayla unaware as she scrawled over the parchment. By the time she set the quill aside and looked up, the sun was almost gone. Just enough light for her to see, really, and the area was beginning to look grey. Sitting for a moment longer, Ayla let the ink dry before she rolled the parchment about itself and gathered the object back into the box. Once that too was set away, the elfess rose from the stone with a stretch and moved back along to the path.
After reaching the Temple once more, Ayla moved along one corridor slowly. Passing through a door, she came upon one of the higher priestesses that served as a mentor for the acolytes. Smiles passed between the two, the elfess bowed her head and stepped forward with her parchment in hand.
"Will you send this to the isle of Gobaith? A hawk will do, I wouldn't wish to kill off all of your doves for the exertion needed."
Ayla spoke the words quietly as she looked up to the human woman, who simply smiled with a nod before taking the parchment.
As Ayla turned to leave, she heard the slightly raspy voice of the woman.
"You are sending an unusual amount of letters, lady To'lorn. And such a long distance. Are you planning on leaving us after such a short visit?"
Ayla hesitated, looking ahead past the open door and down the candle-lit corridor. Many seconds passed before she gave a low laugh.
"I do not plan on it, High Priestess. They simply worry about me, I suppose. I try to reassure them."
A similar chuckle from the woman followed Ayla's response before she waved a dismissive hand.
"My dear, be glad that they worry. It means they sorely miss you. Perhaps it is an ill idea to sever yourself as you have."
The elfess remained where she stood for a passing moment before letting her eyes drop to the marble floor. With an unreadable look, she moved off in complete silence. The last thing she wished to admit right now was that the Priestess was right. Not only did they sorely miss her, but it was mutual. Folding her arms about her thinning frame, Ayla moved on hurriedly back in the direction of her chambers.
Artimer walked along the southern beach of Gobiath slowly, a breeze catching his green robe as he walked from the harbor. He had been travelling around much more often than he expected between the isles, but he didn't mind. Artimer's boots plopped along carrying him ever closer to Troll's Bane, a smile on his face. On his chest beneath his red shirt he felt a piece of steel. A key. Ayla's key that she gave him.
"You are welcome to anything in the depot." She said.
Artimer only once took out the swords, to show Jorokar, but the point seemed to have missed. He had replaced them carefully back in the depot.
He climbed up the east tower, looking across and down at the town.
"Troll's Bane, how long will you be without your protector, and without your leader?" He looked across to the Sea horse.
"Our real leader is trapped with in a shell of a man.. and that shell destroyed our protector.. our friend." He said sadly.
Artimer smiled somewhat, remembering Ayla well and how she had saved him quite a few times, from enemies, friends, and even himself. He was lost in thought when he heard a screech, and nearly fell down the steps. A hawk was looking at him, and hopped between feet.
Artimer sat down and read the parchment, unbelieving.
"Not an important face..? Cut the amesthyts..? But that marks the refining of our friendship. And she is distancing herself from fighting? Our strong willed elfess!?"
Artimer frowned deeply and quickly folded the parchment. He went off in search of a quill quickly.
"Dear Ayla,
I am glad you are enjoying your stay in Salkamar.. I can't do this Ayla."
He crumples the paper, and then smoothes it out shaking.
"You turned away from the sword? Away from the bow? Ayla, you are skilled in fighting, yet you avoid fighters entirely? Ayla, you seem to want to cut all ties from us, all of us. You said you would send word upon arriving Salkamar and you did not. And it isn't right! You have skills, so use them. Doing nothing with them dishonors those who taught you, and those who supported you.
Ayla, you have saved me countless times, protected the island, gave birth to a child, held Troll's Bane when all others gave up hope! Why now do you turn your back? Why do you condem us all? I look around and I see your old friends saddened by you leaving. Do not punish us all due to one man's mistakes! Barely a momment after you left, Pellandrea arrived! She felt so hurt, is this what you want to do to all of us?
We all miss you. We all want you to come back, and though that may not be possible, do not claim that we do not care. That, Ayla To'lorn, is the worst insult you can do to us.
With sorrow,
Artimer Fault."
Tears stained the bottom of the parchment, and Artimer wiped his face off.
Artimer gave the bird some bread, and when it finished eating he quickly sent it off. He then stood, leaning agains the battlements when he remembered the key. He grabbed it tightly, and nearly ripped it off, but he stopped.
Artimer instead walked down the stairs, and into his house. He placed in a box far far underneath his bed, the key, and slid it all the way back. And with that, he wept.
"You are welcome to anything in the depot." She said.
Artimer only once took out the swords, to show Jorokar, but the point seemed to have missed. He had replaced them carefully back in the depot.
He climbed up the east tower, looking across and down at the town.
"Troll's Bane, how long will you be without your protector, and without your leader?" He looked across to the Sea horse.
"Our real leader is trapped with in a shell of a man.. and that shell destroyed our protector.. our friend." He said sadly.
Artimer smiled somewhat, remembering Ayla well and how she had saved him quite a few times, from enemies, friends, and even himself. He was lost in thought when he heard a screech, and nearly fell down the steps. A hawk was looking at him, and hopped between feet.
Artimer sat down and read the parchment, unbelieving.
"Not an important face..? Cut the amesthyts..? But that marks the refining of our friendship. And she is distancing herself from fighting? Our strong willed elfess!?"
Artimer frowned deeply and quickly folded the parchment. He went off in search of a quill quickly.
"Dear Ayla,
I am glad you are enjoying your stay in Salkamar.. I can't do this Ayla."
He crumples the paper, and then smoothes it out shaking.
"You turned away from the sword? Away from the bow? Ayla, you are skilled in fighting, yet you avoid fighters entirely? Ayla, you seem to want to cut all ties from us, all of us. You said you would send word upon arriving Salkamar and you did not. And it isn't right! You have skills, so use them. Doing nothing with them dishonors those who taught you, and those who supported you.
Ayla, you have saved me countless times, protected the island, gave birth to a child, held Troll's Bane when all others gave up hope! Why now do you turn your back? Why do you condem us all? I look around and I see your old friends saddened by you leaving. Do not punish us all due to one man's mistakes! Barely a momment after you left, Pellandrea arrived! She felt so hurt, is this what you want to do to all of us?
We all miss you. We all want you to come back, and though that may not be possible, do not claim that we do not care. That, Ayla To'lorn, is the worst insult you can do to us.
With sorrow,
Artimer Fault."
Tears stained the bottom of the parchment, and Artimer wiped his face off.
Artimer gave the bird some bread, and when it finished eating he quickly sent it off. He then stood, leaning agains the battlements when he remembered the key. He grabbed it tightly, and nearly ripped it off, but he stopped.
Artimer instead walked down the stairs, and into his house. He placed in a box far far underneath his bed, the key, and slid it all the way back. And with that, he wept.
It was probably well into mid-day, the sun directly above in the sky. The brief rains from the days before had vanished, leaving the land just as dry as before. A lightly-clothed figure, clad in an off-the-shoulder pale blue dress, was once again sprawled across a thin couch of sorts. She had finished running errands down through the larger part of the Salkamar's capital city and thus rewarded herself a bit of rest. A hand lifted lazily to tug out the metal pins that held white hair up into a braided bun, letting it fall loose carelessly. With a content sigh, Ayla folded one leg over the other and ran an adjusting hand down the material of her dress. Elarinya stood slowly from her seat on the carpet, wandering over to her mother as she spoke a choppy sentence in Elven. But whatever her dear child was saying, Ayla could not pay much attention to it just now. At that particular moment, a wearied and wind-scorn creature had forced itself through the open window of the bedchambers. Rising from her seat, Ayla laid a settling hand on the two year old's shoulder, giving her an acknowledging smile before she stepped around to recieve the parchment the hawk carried.
Upon taking the parchment and waving the hawk off to the roost kept for messenger birds, Ayla looked to the familiar string about the note. With a vague smile, she drew the string off and unrolled the parchment. However, at the words she was presented with, Ayla's smile slowly faded. Instead, it was replaced with a heavy frown. Quietly making her way to the desk once more, she eased down onto the chair and stared for a long time at the letter given. He had, in a way, attacked her. What was Artimer trying to do? Prove a point to her? With a rather disappointed sigh, Ayla reached forward to begin her reply.
Artimer,
Can not do what, precisely? You cannot accept the fact that I moved off to
enjoy a life that does not involved everyday death and betrayal? For
shame, Artimer. I figured you'd be settled to hear that I am content.
Yes, I turned from the sword. I never possessed the bow. I turned from
the sword for it is what threatened to tear my life apart, Artimer. I may
be moderately skilled, enough to keep myself alive, but I am no majestic
hero. I am no legend that would be able to change a thing with one strike
of my blade, so precisely what point is there to use my "skills" in a place
overran with others far better than me? Think of it this way. My
preference to settle things with words instead of blades is precisely what
tore me from the Knighthood. I did "nothing", according to them. Words
were not enough. I wish to prove otherwise. Thus, I set my blades and
shiny armour aside. I dishonour no one, for those who once taught me
have already dishonoured themselves.
As for breaking ties, you're correct. I said it then and I shall say it once
more. I want nothing to do with Gobaith, Troll's Bane or the very Order I
left. I had it in my mind to disappear from sight and thought of all those
on that Gods forsaken island, only to have you drag up connections once
more. What more do you want me to do? Return to Gobaith and plead
forgiveness for shunning those I called friends and breaking the oath of a
Knight? No one would have the right mind to give such forgiveness aside
from the likes of you, Artimer Fault.
Saved you countless times. Refresh my memory, Artimer. From what I
can recall, I never saved you. I was always standing back, letting
Dantagon or Jorokar or Gods know who else do the work. Never once did
I protect the island, for I refused to fight unless necessary. And when,
Gods tell me this, did I ever hold Troll's Bane up when hope was lost? I
was the first to LOSE hope this time. And hope lost is hope never to be
regained for me.
I have not condemned my friends. Know the meaning of that word before
you use it, Artimer. I admit to turning my back on you all and leaving you
without true explanation, but never have I condemned you. There is no
hatred, no disgust, no shame felt. If they are saddened, they will get over
it. If you feel punished, I apologize. Hurt is a familiar emotion for me and
I tell you now that you will get over it eventually. Do not try to bring me
back by using such words, Artimer.
And for the record, not once did I ever say you did not care. I simply
stated that you should not bother coming to me no matter the
circumstances. I am adamant. I will not return to Gobaith.
~ Ayla To'lorn
As she wrote the last sentences before her signature, Ayla came to a dead stop. She glanced up to notice that the end of the quill she wrote with trembled notably for the quivers of her hand. It was almost as if she surprised herself. Her eyes narrowed, lips pursed into a thin line as if she were fighting back a few tears herself. A quick signature was made, the note simply ending before she slammed the quill down, careless as the tip snapped. However, she did not rise from the chair. Instead, she sat there for a long moment, her eyes falling closed as she took a deep breath. Forcing herself calm, Ayla's head dropped. I will not return. Those words repeated in her mind in one endless circle before she finally rose, parchment in hand once more.
I will NOT return.
Upon taking the parchment and waving the hawk off to the roost kept for messenger birds, Ayla looked to the familiar string about the note. With a vague smile, she drew the string off and unrolled the parchment. However, at the words she was presented with, Ayla's smile slowly faded. Instead, it was replaced with a heavy frown. Quietly making her way to the desk once more, she eased down onto the chair and stared for a long time at the letter given. He had, in a way, attacked her. What was Artimer trying to do? Prove a point to her? With a rather disappointed sigh, Ayla reached forward to begin her reply.
Artimer,
Can not do what, precisely? You cannot accept the fact that I moved off to
enjoy a life that does not involved everyday death and betrayal? For
shame, Artimer. I figured you'd be settled to hear that I am content.
Yes, I turned from the sword. I never possessed the bow. I turned from
the sword for it is what threatened to tear my life apart, Artimer. I may
be moderately skilled, enough to keep myself alive, but I am no majestic
hero. I am no legend that would be able to change a thing with one strike
of my blade, so precisely what point is there to use my "skills" in a place
overran with others far better than me? Think of it this way. My
preference to settle things with words instead of blades is precisely what
tore me from the Knighthood. I did "nothing", according to them. Words
were not enough. I wish to prove otherwise. Thus, I set my blades and
shiny armour aside. I dishonour no one, for those who once taught me
have already dishonoured themselves.
As for breaking ties, you're correct. I said it then and I shall say it once
more. I want nothing to do with Gobaith, Troll's Bane or the very Order I
left. I had it in my mind to disappear from sight and thought of all those
on that Gods forsaken island, only to have you drag up connections once
more. What more do you want me to do? Return to Gobaith and plead
forgiveness for shunning those I called friends and breaking the oath of a
Knight? No one would have the right mind to give such forgiveness aside
from the likes of you, Artimer Fault.
Saved you countless times. Refresh my memory, Artimer. From what I
can recall, I never saved you. I was always standing back, letting
Dantagon or Jorokar or Gods know who else do the work. Never once did
I protect the island, for I refused to fight unless necessary. And when,
Gods tell me this, did I ever hold Troll's Bane up when hope was lost? I
was the first to LOSE hope this time. And hope lost is hope never to be
regained for me.
I have not condemned my friends. Know the meaning of that word before
you use it, Artimer. I admit to turning my back on you all and leaving you
without true explanation, but never have I condemned you. There is no
hatred, no disgust, no shame felt. If they are saddened, they will get over
it. If you feel punished, I apologize. Hurt is a familiar emotion for me and
I tell you now that you will get over it eventually. Do not try to bring me
back by using such words, Artimer.
And for the record, not once did I ever say you did not care. I simply
stated that you should not bother coming to me no matter the
circumstances. I am adamant. I will not return to Gobaith.
~ Ayla To'lorn
As she wrote the last sentences before her signature, Ayla came to a dead stop. She glanced up to notice that the end of the quill she wrote with trembled notably for the quivers of her hand. It was almost as if she surprised herself. Her eyes narrowed, lips pursed into a thin line as if she were fighting back a few tears herself. A quick signature was made, the note simply ending before she slammed the quill down, careless as the tip snapped. However, she did not rise from the chair. Instead, she sat there for a long moment, her eyes falling closed as she took a deep breath. Forcing herself calm, Ayla's head dropped. I will not return. Those words repeated in her mind in one endless circle before she finally rose, parchment in hand once more.
I will NOT return.
Artimer sighed heavily, as he lay in the room. His eyes shut closed. He wanted nothing more from the world. His friend was gone, and he had been the one to watch her leave. What could he do, she surely would not reply. She probably hated him. He deserved it, he thought. Artimer rose up from his bed and went to eat some soup. He carefully removed it from the boiling caldron left on the fireplace that Elisabeth set.
"Do you feel alone?" Rang through his head constantly. Dain's words were echoing louder in his head. He sighed and set the bowl down. Artimer's cat quickly ate it.
He returned to his bed, unwilling to budge. A knock on the door, and Artimer did not move. Artimer had secluded himself now, unwilling to acknowledge anyone and anything.
"I ruined everything.." He muttered to himself.
Outside some one made and angry sigh, and thrusted a parchment beneath the door frame. Artimer rose up wearily and opened it. He read it quickly, and it was as he expected. More fancy words that veil how she feels.
He skimmed over it, and folded it away into his box. He then took anouther quill, and wrote.
"Dear Ayla,
You say the word content, but is that truely what you are? Contentness does not mean happiness. You possessed a powerful bow once a long time ago, do you not remember? The sword may have nearly torn it apart, but it had a holder. Only you know who that is. And was there not a point at which I was ready to have an arrow through my neck? Were you not there to help me? Were you not there before when I was attacked, so long ago? You helped me heal, even though I wished not to.
And your wisedom with words is powerful. Its part of the reason you are who you are today. You were the one so long ago who held out hope against the corrupt goverment. You were the judge of reason who punished me justly, not because you weren't my friend but I needed to be taught a lesson. What do I want? I want you to be happy. Are you happy, in the quiet? Do you not feel that there is something more you can do in the world then being in a temple in silence? I am not saying you have to return and lead an assult, or become a warrior. None of that. I am saying is that if or if not you acknowledge it, we need you. Every person stumbles, and every person rises again. Leaving was not the stumbling block, I do not know what it was. But every person has friends, or should have friends, to help them. Its my duty to not only help people, but to help my friends, no matter how far. And you know that is what the amesthyt means.
And how does me coming to you effect you coming to Gobiath? I will not kidnap you, that was a lesson you taught me. If you are happy, then be happy. If you are sad and want to escape it, then escape. But contentment is only acceptable for so long. You can only be in the in-between of the two before you begin to wonder what happiness is. Why are you so agreeable to getting the minimum then enjoying the full of life. From what you said you rarely go into the city, and you are pained when you see the paladins and knights. They are just people, with friends and family around them. Just as you have friends and family.. they are just afar. Speaking of friends, have you made any new ones to join the old?
I did not mean to sound so harsh, but I was hurt. Deeply hurt.
Sorry.
In regret,
Artimer Fault."
He stepped outside, and fed the bird waiting. Whoever presented him with the letter is long gone by now, and he sends it off. With a sigh he shakes his head as it flys.
"The truth hurts Ayla. But who is it hurting more? Me.. or you?"
"Do you feel alone?" Rang through his head constantly. Dain's words were echoing louder in his head. He sighed and set the bowl down. Artimer's cat quickly ate it.
He returned to his bed, unwilling to budge. A knock on the door, and Artimer did not move. Artimer had secluded himself now, unwilling to acknowledge anyone and anything.
"I ruined everything.." He muttered to himself.
Outside some one made and angry sigh, and thrusted a parchment beneath the door frame. Artimer rose up wearily and opened it. He read it quickly, and it was as he expected. More fancy words that veil how she feels.
He skimmed over it, and folded it away into his box. He then took anouther quill, and wrote.
"Dear Ayla,
You say the word content, but is that truely what you are? Contentness does not mean happiness. You possessed a powerful bow once a long time ago, do you not remember? The sword may have nearly torn it apart, but it had a holder. Only you know who that is. And was there not a point at which I was ready to have an arrow through my neck? Were you not there to help me? Were you not there before when I was attacked, so long ago? You helped me heal, even though I wished not to.
And your wisedom with words is powerful. Its part of the reason you are who you are today. You were the one so long ago who held out hope against the corrupt goverment. You were the judge of reason who punished me justly, not because you weren't my friend but I needed to be taught a lesson. What do I want? I want you to be happy. Are you happy, in the quiet? Do you not feel that there is something more you can do in the world then being in a temple in silence? I am not saying you have to return and lead an assult, or become a warrior. None of that. I am saying is that if or if not you acknowledge it, we need you. Every person stumbles, and every person rises again. Leaving was not the stumbling block, I do not know what it was. But every person has friends, or should have friends, to help them. Its my duty to not only help people, but to help my friends, no matter how far. And you know that is what the amesthyt means.
And how does me coming to you effect you coming to Gobiath? I will not kidnap you, that was a lesson you taught me. If you are happy, then be happy. If you are sad and want to escape it, then escape. But contentment is only acceptable for so long. You can only be in the in-between of the two before you begin to wonder what happiness is. Why are you so agreeable to getting the minimum then enjoying the full of life. From what you said you rarely go into the city, and you are pained when you see the paladins and knights. They are just people, with friends and family around them. Just as you have friends and family.. they are just afar. Speaking of friends, have you made any new ones to join the old?
I did not mean to sound so harsh, but I was hurt. Deeply hurt.
Sorry.
In regret,
Artimer Fault."
He stepped outside, and fed the bird waiting. Whoever presented him with the letter is long gone by now, and he sends it off. With a sigh he shakes his head as it flys.
"The truth hurts Ayla. But who is it hurting more? Me.. or you?"
The sun had set long ago, in its path leaving darkness over the land of Salkamar. The moon, barely a sliver in the sky, seemed more just a long and thin star as it refused to give any light. It was probably well past the hour of midnight, according to the tolls of guard change from the large city below the hill. The impressive temple rested upon that said hill was dark as well, its inhabitants having been early to their chambers as it was. All of the candles that had provided light were extinguished, dropping the corridors into complete black stillness. Or so, all candles but one.
A single candle, set on its base, rested upon the cold stone floor of a small chamber. Its weak flame wavered and flickered here and there, casting distorted shadows upon the sheer walls. Beside it sat a figure with her knees drawn beneath her, a chest at her side. One hand was wearily pulling the lock from its place before it pressed up. The lid of the heavy chest creaked as it was forced from its resting position, as if unwilling to bear the items within. However, it was forced open no matter the circumstances to reveal a few items. Old clothes of tunics and trousers, a few keepsakes in the bottom, and even a single sheathed hilt covered up by the clothing. This is where the hand hesitated, hovering just above the plain hilt with its leather grip. A sigh was heard before the hand reached forward and brought the blade with it away from the old scabbard. A bright glint ran along the edge of the blade as the fire's light hit it, the reflection seeming to turn the steel a strange orangish-gold. After its point was lifted to the ceiling, the blade lowered to let the flat rest against the empty and accepting palm gradually.
Ayla's face held a solumn and even hateful expression as she brought the familiar sword of Serinjah make down before her. As one finger ran along the even surface of the blade's flat, she gave an inbittered chuckle. It had been her blade since before she joined Kallahorn way back when on Gobaith. Before it was changed, before she even knew those that associate themselves to it now. And in the end, she felt that it alone had remained loyal in its strength.
The elfess lowered her chin as her eyes ran over the blade, back and forth restlessly. She would have remained in her long and troubled musings if not for the starting cry of a weary osprey. So late at night, it even made her heart seem to skip a beat there. Dragging her eyes from the cold steel she held, Ayla looked up to the bird that made its way through her open window, claws reaching out to grasp the thick edge of the chest. Its wings spread far to balance itself, movements slow for its tired state. About one strong leg was set a parchment, at which Ayla reached a hand out for carefully. Pulling it from its tie and letting a finger run over the smooth feathers, the elfess quietly sent the bird off to its much-deserved roost.
Lowering the hand once the bird was well and gone, Ayla looked to the roll of parchment against her palm. What would it say this time? Tenatively pulling the string that bound it loose, she worked it open and lowered it near the candle to read over the familiar writing. Once more, her brow creased in frustration at the words she was presented with. The naïve boy simply refused to understand, didn't he? With a disgruntled sound, Ayla shook her head and lifted the parchment over the flame of the candle, letting its edge catch fire. Within seconds, she watched as the note burned to nothing more than scattered ashes on the stone floor. Her hand fell to the floor then as she looked to the open window with a shake of her head. She didn't know how else to convince him.
Unless... She was forced to eat the very words she had just told him. Face him openly and maybe even slap sense into him. Did she dare even a short trip back to that island? No. But it was like he was forcing that from her. His secret motive, even. Bitterly looking to the burning candle, Ayla reached for the blade once more and replaced it into the chest before slamming the lid down enough to echo into the corridor. It was foolish pride clawing at her, that need to have Artimer face the fact. She was fine, happy, content, at ease.. All of the above. If she could show him that fully, perhaps he would leave her be for good. Just a short trip back, a week at most.
Rising from her seat on the ground, Ayla picked the candleholder up slowly to blow the flame out. Almost instantly, she was dropped into complete darkness. However, she walked on carelessly to the slender bed. Tomorrow. She would head out tomorrow to show that boy that his worries were for nothing.
A single candle, set on its base, rested upon the cold stone floor of a small chamber. Its weak flame wavered and flickered here and there, casting distorted shadows upon the sheer walls. Beside it sat a figure with her knees drawn beneath her, a chest at her side. One hand was wearily pulling the lock from its place before it pressed up. The lid of the heavy chest creaked as it was forced from its resting position, as if unwilling to bear the items within. However, it was forced open no matter the circumstances to reveal a few items. Old clothes of tunics and trousers, a few keepsakes in the bottom, and even a single sheathed hilt covered up by the clothing. This is where the hand hesitated, hovering just above the plain hilt with its leather grip. A sigh was heard before the hand reached forward and brought the blade with it away from the old scabbard. A bright glint ran along the edge of the blade as the fire's light hit it, the reflection seeming to turn the steel a strange orangish-gold. After its point was lifted to the ceiling, the blade lowered to let the flat rest against the empty and accepting palm gradually.
Ayla's face held a solumn and even hateful expression as she brought the familiar sword of Serinjah make down before her. As one finger ran along the even surface of the blade's flat, she gave an inbittered chuckle. It had been her blade since before she joined Kallahorn way back when on Gobaith. Before it was changed, before she even knew those that associate themselves to it now. And in the end, she felt that it alone had remained loyal in its strength.
The elfess lowered her chin as her eyes ran over the blade, back and forth restlessly. She would have remained in her long and troubled musings if not for the starting cry of a weary osprey. So late at night, it even made her heart seem to skip a beat there. Dragging her eyes from the cold steel she held, Ayla looked up to the bird that made its way through her open window, claws reaching out to grasp the thick edge of the chest. Its wings spread far to balance itself, movements slow for its tired state. About one strong leg was set a parchment, at which Ayla reached a hand out for carefully. Pulling it from its tie and letting a finger run over the smooth feathers, the elfess quietly sent the bird off to its much-deserved roost.
Lowering the hand once the bird was well and gone, Ayla looked to the roll of parchment against her palm. What would it say this time? Tenatively pulling the string that bound it loose, she worked it open and lowered it near the candle to read over the familiar writing. Once more, her brow creased in frustration at the words she was presented with. The naïve boy simply refused to understand, didn't he? With a disgruntled sound, Ayla shook her head and lifted the parchment over the flame of the candle, letting its edge catch fire. Within seconds, she watched as the note burned to nothing more than scattered ashes on the stone floor. Her hand fell to the floor then as she looked to the open window with a shake of her head. She didn't know how else to convince him.
Unless... She was forced to eat the very words she had just told him. Face him openly and maybe even slap sense into him. Did she dare even a short trip back to that island? No. But it was like he was forcing that from her. His secret motive, even. Bitterly looking to the burning candle, Ayla reached for the blade once more and replaced it into the chest before slamming the lid down enough to echo into the corridor. It was foolish pride clawing at her, that need to have Artimer face the fact. She was fine, happy, content, at ease.. All of the above. If she could show him that fully, perhaps he would leave her be for good. Just a short trip back, a week at most.
Rising from her seat on the ground, Ayla picked the candleholder up slowly to blow the flame out. Almost instantly, she was dropped into complete darkness. However, she walked on carelessly to the slender bed. Tomorrow. She would head out tomorrow to show that boy that his worries were for nothing.