A muted sigh was all Riley could muster as she meandered along to the library. It was rather profound to her that summoning an abomination was as easy to her as lifting a pinky, yet most people in her class had to labor over proper runes, technique, and even what they wore to summon even as something as benign as an imp. It was for that very reason that her school had to be shut down, of course, with a limiting glyph forgotten in one girl’s summoning circle, the mischievous buggers began to flood the building and syphon everyone’s mana. It was meanwhile during all this that Riley had begun to roll over laughing as everyone scurried away and the little pests tried their best to get something from the witch as her own bear companion batted them away. Now, however, as she roamed to the last place she wanted to be at the moment, the fun had all but dissipated.

She had, in an attempt to stay away from studying, tried locating Fion, but when she arrived at his manor, she was shooed away by one of the servants saying that he had gone out for the day. When she tried asking about Araki, she only received the same response. With not much else to do, she went to the Bureau to find some work, but with only a little more luck than before. They had something -- a small caravan run to a nearby town that needed a guard desperately; a job that wouldn’t take her more than five hours tops, if they didn’t run into trouble -- but it wasn’t to set out for another three hours. So, thwarted by fate, Riley went to read; at least until it was time to leave.

~

After bothering with the tedium of finding the necessary materials for research, filing for a private study room for only two hours time, and getting some real work done in her art of non-ritualistic style summoning, Riley departed down the stairs of the library and began to casually walk to the assigned location in which she was to meet the caravaneer and her small band of wagons. It only took a few minutes more to reach where they were meeting, and upon arriving, noticed how small the group was. Six people, and four large wagons, each escorted by a fine “steed”; she was now wondering why the listed reward had been so relatively meager. 

Immediately in her approach she was greeted by the giant who Riley could only guess was her employer, Selina. Despite her size, she had noticeably feminine features, and a short blonde tuft of hair laced behind her otherwise bob-styled haircut. “Hello, you must be Riley,” she began with a full grin and a grasp of her hand “Glad you could come, we almost didn’t have anybody after our other guy quit on short notice.” Riley stood there with a blank expression which didn’t betray her small annoyance with this person as her hand was shook. ”Right, so when do I get paid? Now, or after we get back?” Selina straightened her posture immediately at the mention of business, and dropped her hand. “Straight to it, I see; I can respect that,” she said as she placed her hands on her hips. “You’ll get your one-hundred and twenty silvers when we get to the town since we’ll be receiving it there.” The witch frowned slightly; the tide of this woman’s business would likely affect her own wage, so if things went bad -- which occasionally they do -- she was likely to receive less than the share advertised. ”Okay then; shall we leave?” she restrained herself to saying as she motioned towards the gates. Selina perked with Riley’s response, and began to holler. “You’ve got it! Come on guys, let’s get those asses in gear!”

~

They were about halfway through their trip. The caravan was passing through a wooded area on a well-worn, yet deserted path, and had been reduced to a single-file line due to the density of the trees. The midday sun flitted through the leaves overhead as they were rustled by a gentle breeze. Birds chirped, and overall the day seemed peaceful, and that was good for a guard such as Riley. She, however, almost wanted to be attacked as to test out her polearm in actual combat, not a practice bout like she and Fion had many a time before. Still, her desire amounted in a paranoia that had been distracting to the other members of her troupe, and had been sent to the back to keep watch of their tail.

She glancing over her shoulder with every intent to strike if something were to actually be there, and almost as if she had willed it, there was a very loud, and very close “cracking” sound to her. Riley spun, weapon drawn and unsheathed as she pointed it at… well, nothing. In her disappointment, she lowered her stance and let out a sigh of frustration. “You know, if you’re looking for an enemy, I [i]was[/i] right in front of you the entire time.” Riley tensed, as she [i]knew[/i] that voice. She wanted to run with every fiber of her being at that point, dash all the way back to Cykes where she knew she’d be safe. But, against her better judgement, and perhaps in seeking some closure to the torment that had been wrought upon her for all of her life, she turned around once more to face her mother.

The high-witch stood there, atop the trailing wagon to the rest, a coy smile which matched the sultry tone in which she had addressed her daughter, but which clashed with her ugly visage. “You know,” she started, “it truly hurts a mother so when she can’t reach her own daughter through the post, or when her daughter hurts the people simply hired to reunite them.” A throaty chuckle escaped her mother’s mouth. Riley still had not spoken yet, and she found herself clenching her teeth as she caught her first glance of the people she was escorting; lined by the side of the wagons, heads hung low, and all facing her direction. “Oh, don’t worry about them; they’re fine, at least physically,” another laugh came from this. “I do know how much you don’t enjoy death, so I didn’t kill them like I had originally planned. I just… well, curses do some truly [i]]nasty[/i] things to the mind.”

Riley’s voice caught in the base of her throat as her mother continued on. She was angry, and at the same time frightened. She wanted to run away, but she also wanted to gut the abomination that spawned her miserable existence and was standing right in front of her. Her inner conflict was what was keeping Riley in place, although she had enough wits about her to poise the bladed weapon in front of her. It was this small action that snapped Cygna out of her monologue, and what brought on a small scoff.

“I really wish you would have kept that stick of yours; a girl could poke her eye out on such things that you’re holding there…” A moment of silence passed as the two stared each other down. It was the elder witch who broke the silent battle with a small “Hmph,” and began to speak again. her tone less bashful, and more serious. “I know you have questions; about everything, really. Your father, your birth, even your wonderful gifts of summoning, and the special abomination that is your ‘R’lyeh’. I’ll let you know now that your daddy-dearest was as not as kind of a man as you remember, and that he was as manipulative as any immortal that resides in Talze Utera. I never laid my magics upon him, except for a very [i]special[/i] night for the both of us, and he was never my prisoner... That’s right, my dear; he had stayed [i]willingly[/i],” Another small silence passed as to let Cygna’s knowledge sink in. “Now, you’re allowed to discard everything I’ve told you today as lies, and false knowledge, but if you wish to hear more from my side of things, we can meet -- in a day’s time -- in the hovel town known as the Burrow; directly south of this very point. Order a drink in the only tavern there, and I shall find you, like I always have. Please, come alone; I know how this may sound, but there are words that must be spoken between us that that [i]boy[/i] of yours must not hear, at least for now. But now our time is up, and I must depart. Goodbye my daughter, may our Mother shroud your footsteps.” She began to depart, but as an after thought, she added: “Oh, and feel free to take the gold off these brigands; they were only a lure to draw [i]you[/i] out my dear, and are the convicted in Illiserev. Goodbye, daughter,” and with that, she disappeared into the few shadows of the wood.

Riley collapsed in sobs as soon as she knew she alone with the catatonic bodies of her employers.

~

It was dusk by the time she made in back in the walls of Cykes, grateful for the feeling of protection they provided. With what her mother said -- this lingering doubt of what was true or not had resided -- Riley began to feel this overbearing sense of loneliness. She had felt alone before, many a day before she had met Fion and Araki, but this was different. This felt as if her whole world was crumbling, and no one was around to stop it. She wished she could go back to before the demon incident in Talze Utera, hell, back to before Bakery Town where she met the conniving bastard who had brought her to that summit. But, as far as she knew, there wasn’t any way to do that, was there?

~

She trodded through the front door to the small house she lived in. It was empty, as usual. Dust was settling on every visible surface, and the rays of the extinguishing sun only permeated the decrepit feeling that hung over the room. She collapsed face first into the small couch which faced the room’s only source of heat, the fireplace; unlit. There time passed at a snail’s pace, and long before she knew it, the rays of the sun were replaced by the beams of the moon; only a crescent. She gazed blankly in front of her as the night drifted past, sleep not once overtaking her with everything that was going through her head.

~

As dawn came Riley rose from the couch, and just as she had done so, the front door opened once more to the sight of her uncle. He scrapped every foot on the tarnished wood below him and escaped the burden of his own weight by collapsing on Riley’s desk chair. He took a sigh of relief before noticing the hard glance of his niece. “What?” he asked, dumbfounded as to what could be bothering Riley. She stood without a word, and closed the distance between them. The witch roughly placed her hands on his knees and leaned in close to his face. An awkward moment passed before she finally spoke. ”What was my father actually like, Horace? I don’t want any bullshit, either; you were his brother, you obviously knew him the best. Now spill it.” The tension in the room was almost tangible as her uncle relaxed and let out a gruff sigh. He rubbed his bearded chin as he swatted his charge away and began to pace around in the little room he had. He cleared his throat, and began.

“He was...the favorite of our parents, for obvious reasons; he was one of the rare few men who could use magic.”