At the Southern border of the Ascainian Empire
After what felt like an eternity, the Champion suddenly stopped running. It was midday and the sun leaked into the glade where the group now stood. Emerald grass grew in the center, where the leaves overhead were shallow, and thick beech trees with gnarled roots ringed the area. The air was hot and humid, a telltale sign that they had traveled further west, towards the tropics.
A rush of wind spilled over the trees and into the glade, cooling off the area ever so slightly while whipping up the fallen pink petals of what wild flowers grew underneath. The scene was calm and serene, a complete contrast to what the group had just witnessed.
A loud sigh broke from the Champion’s hood, and she fell to her knees, back cracking from the sudden release of pressure. Her knees ached and groaned, unsure of the sudden rest. The bodily reaction was short lived however, as suddenly the eye sparkled, catching the sunlight despite the Champion’s position in the shade of the beeches. The arrow shaft fell from her shoulder, cut in half, and no blood could be seen where the pont penetrated, just bare skin. Her muscles tensed and relaxed, suddenly no longer exhausted or sore. She sucked in a breath, her lungs feeling renewed despite her long run.
“By the world-mother’s tits” The faery muttered, having landed on the Wanderer’s shoulder sometime during their run, “What was
that all about?” The Wanderer merely grunted from beneath her hood, having pulled it over her head some time ago. Despite the great distance they had run she seemed only slightly winded. A hand rested on the hilt of her falcata as she gazed at the woods surrounding them.
“Your dog,” the Champion began, not looking up from her kneeled position, “you need to get rid of him.”
The Wanderer ceased her perusal of their surroundings to give the Champion an icy glare. “No.”
“Acis?” The faery squeaked. “What’s he ever done to you?”
“They have his name,” The Champion stood up and turned to the two, “they can find us.”
“I don’t understand.” The faery seemed to be speaking for the two of them. The Wanderer’s icy expression had not thawed in the least, although she had shifted her attention back to their surroundings.
“I had you write your names down, I warned you to not speak them. But when you yelled Acis, they heard his name, and they can do whatever they want with him, including using him to locate us. Your quest requires you to not be located, for either of us to be ever found again. You saw back there what the Bannik are capable of, and that was the least of it. If they had both your names, I’m afraid I’d be standing here alone,” The Champion shook her head.
“And you didn’t think to mention ‘Oh hey, my enemies have super magic linked to knowing names’?” The faery asked, crossing her arms over her chest. The Wanderer simply shook her head.
“Why are the Bannik hunting you?” The Ethean asked after a moment.
“I warned you not to speak names,” The Champion hissed at the faery, unclear if out of anger of a long time of frustration. Turning to stare at the Wanderer, the Champion sighed, “there is no way I can explain that simply, but know that you have as much to do with it as I do. We have a quest to do, and time is limited I’m afraid.”
The Wanderer simply continued to watch their surroundings, although it was clear that a good portion of her attention was now fixed on the Champion. When she spoke next her tone was perfectly neutral, flat even, as if she was simply reading from a dry book. “The Champion and servants of Magalis should be aligned in interests.”
“If only,” the Champion replied, “but I’m afraid not anymore. Incursion has begun, and I need someone without a name to help me end it. Ethea has been tucked away for so long that the Bannik grew lazy on collecting your names, I was the only one who had yours, so I picked you to help me end this.”
“So you see, from this point on, you are as nameless as I am,” The Champion folded her arms, “and that goes for the faery too.”
“What? I like my name!” The faery looked and sounded legitimately dismayed. The Wanderer simply grunted. “I…. I’m not stuck with you two am I?”
“Think you can take on a group of Bannik alone?” The Wanderer asked.
“By the world-mothers tits…” Was all the faery said in response.
“Names are little more than labels given by one’s parents.” The Wanderer commented. “Is it…” It wasn’t quite hesitation that caused the Wanderer to pause, “safe to assume another label?”
“We can, but we cannot name ourselves, nor can those we are close to,” the Champion answered, “I would have to name you, and you would have to name me.”
The Wanderer grunted before stating “‘Champion’ is a good enough label for you.”
“Oh! Oh!” The faery jumped to her feet. “I can come up with a name for you!” The Wanderer’s grunt almost sounded amused this time.
“Wanderer would work,” The Champion answered, cutting the Faery off, “but not if we are questioned by other mortals. How about ‘Amyntas’, an Ethean name.”
A pale finger pointed at the Faery, “and you can be Ludda.”
“Oh! You can be Gwenyver!” The faery was practically bouncing.
“Ascainian for ‘white lady’” The Wanderer, Amyntas, commented. “Fitting.”
“Great,” Gwenyver nodded, a thread of enjoyment in her voice, but only under the fabric of urgency, “put a hood on the dog so that the sky might not see his face, and rename him, and then I think that order of business is all settled for now.
“How about Umbra, for what he shall be from now on,” Gwenyver quickly added, a sense of eagerness in her voice.
A great amount of tension seemed to ease out of Amyntas’s body as she pulled out a piece of cloth and wrapped it around the dog’s head, taking care to cover the top of his head in a way that would still allow him to actually see. “Good boy… Umbra” Amyntas mumbled. The good looked up at her before giving her a big sloppy lick on the face.
Ludda smiled as she hopped off of Amyntas shoulder with a flutter of her wings. She flew towards Gwenyver, hovering by her head as she quietly whispered “I think she’d have sacrificed you to save that dog.” Amyntas shot Ludda an icy stare, causing the faery to add. “Or maybe just me.”
Two crimson eyes peered at Ludda behind Gwenyver’s hood, they looked worried, “I’m afraid more than I would have been sacrificed if we did nothing.”
Sucking in a breath she let her eyes fall on all of her new companions, “I feel as though perhaps we should continue our quest if all are able bodied, but if you need rest, there is no shame in saying.” Despite her almost entertained tones earlier, she had reverted back to a serious urgency, her breezy voice cutting the words out with importance.
“We should rest for a few hours.” Amyntas said. “A- Err… Umbra doesn’t have the same amount of endurance as I.” There was just a hint of concern in Amyntas’s voice as she looked at the panting canine. “I will take the first watch.”
Ludda snorted as she whispered “If you don’t watch her carefully she’ll take
all of the watches.”
“Only because you can’t be trusted to pay attention for more than a few minutes.” Amyntas stated. “I doubt Gwenyver is as… unfocused as you.”
“You can sleep,” Gwenyver offered, “I don’t need to.” She stood up tall, as if proving a point, “feel free to rest, I’ll keep watch.”
Amyntas stared at Gwenyver for a moment before giving a slight nod of her head. She sat down, resting her back against a tree. Umbra laid down at her side, his large head resting on her lap. Amyntas had already closed her yes, her chest rising and falling in the tell-tale rhythm of sleep. Ludda eyed the two for a moment before setting down on Gwenyver’s shoulder, a distinctly Earthen aroma permeating from Gwenyver’s robes.
Turning her head towards the Faery, Gwenyver spoke softly, conscious of her sleeping companions, “do you always land without permission?”
“Yup!” Ludda exclaimed seeming oblivious of the fact that certain persons nearby were asleep. Despite the noise Amyntas didn’t stir, although Umbra did lift his head from her lap long enough to look at the faery. “Amyntas used to give me those icy glares of her whenever I did so. She doesn’t anymore.” The faery spoke with the smugness one would expect of a triumphant general or admiral.
Gwenyver pursed her lips in thought, eyes flickering across the small creature on her shoulder, “you’re a very happy being.”
“Mhm” Ludda agreed. “Amyntas says I’m audacis...Umm… audnosous… No… Audacious! Yes! She says I’m audacious and vexatious!” She beamed at Gwenyver. As if an afterthought she added “She’s nice, even if she doesn’t talk much.”
“I’m sure she is,” Gwenyver’s discolored lips formed what could only be described as a painfully forced smile that looked more uncomfortable than if she were to just frown.
“I do feel bad though,” her mouth snapped back to its serious line, “you weren’t suppose to be… well you weren’t suppose to get caught up in this, only her.”
Ludda tittered. “Someone has to watch out for her.” She gestured towards Amyntas. “And it wouldn’t take much more effort to keep an eye out for you.” Some, but not all, of the mirth slowly drained from the faery’s face. “What
have you gotten us into?”
“Something that could either destroy everything, or save us all,” Gwenyver answered cryptically, “the world is changing, and its change is felt in the Volcano. The forming of Antioch, the crusades, a wicked birth down in the southern isles, the sacrifices of the west growing heavier, and the structure of the east degrading. I can feel every light extinguished or lit, but our quest is more than that. We have a lot to do, and I didn’t want to drag anyone else into this, but it had to be done.”
Ludda tilted her head to the side as she parroted “Structure of the east degrading? What’s that? And what’s Antioch?”
Gwenyver waved a hand, “do not worry about the names I am throwing, they aren’t important for you to know, just know that once we are done resting, we go retrieve the Volcano’s heart.”
“Hmmm…” Ludda rocked from side to side as she thought. “Amyntas has mentioned something about an apple everyday since we left Ethea.” She commented. “Something about resurrecting an ancient princess. Or was it an empress.” She shrugged after a moment. “I don’t really know.”
Red eyes fixate on Ludda, “you mention the Golden Apple, a relic of the Volcano. Is that why you wander?”
Ludda shook her head. “I just keep Amyntas company. She’d get very lonely without me. She’s not out here
for the apple, but I think she’d leap at the chance to get it.”
“Lonely?” Gwenyver raised a brow, “then why does
she wander?”
“Cause she’s good at following orders.” Ludda beamed. “First the Emperor said to go make contact with the outside world.” She began counting on her hand. “Then the prince said to gather any information she could. And then the Praetorian. Well he gave her a huge list of things: terrian, um… important locations… and things… and stuff.” The faery had a sheepish look on her face.
“And yet, she accepted a quest from me,” Gwenyver challenged, “a quest that won’t allow her to do any of those, at least not that I can foresee. What else should I know?”
“She’s… pee-us?” Ludda half answered half asked.
“Pious?” Gwenyver looked confused, “do you mean pious?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“No, not it is not,” The woman shook her head, “‘but yes, I could tell she was pious. I wonder how pious.”
“Super!” Ludda threw her hands over her head for extra emphasis. “Sometimes she gets into theo...theologibible… um.. Arguments with Arch Matriarch Cy-” Her eyes suddenly widened. “No names.” She whispered.
“I appreciate the discretion,” Gwenyver smiled genuinely, pearly teeth being revealed, “but it is just our names that need to remain unspoken. I’m sure many a Bannik already have her name.”
“Ok. Well sometimes Arch Matriarch Cynthia gets really annoyed.” Ludda continued. “She never lets it show on her face, but I can tell by the way she shortens her sentences. Oh. And Amyntas looks really smug. She says the Arch Matriarch doesn’t appreciate being called out on… bad interpretations.”
“That’s pretty funny,” Gwenyver replied, actual amusement in her voice, “I wonder what both their interpretations are. I’ve come across so many different ones.”
“It all sounds the same to me” Ludda said with a shrug. “She sometimes argues with the prince, but she never looks smug when they are done.”
“And why is that, you think?”
“I don’t know. He must be good at arguing.” Ludda said after a moment. “Amyntas’s cheeks are always red. And she
always walks away fast.”
Gwenyver crossed her arms, her chest vibrating with what might be a hidden chuckle, “very good.” was all she said. After a moment she looked at Ludda, “and yourself?”
“Hmmmm….?” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at Gwenyver.
“What about you, you said so much about Amyntas, but what about you?”
“I stay with her in the palace!” Ludda beamed. “I like to sneak into the kitchens cause the cooks give me sweets. Sometimes the prince gives me some too. Amyntas gets mad when she finds out though.” Ludda gave her best impression of an icy glare. “She says I’ll get too fat to fly.”
“That’s sweet,” Gwenyver simply replied, “have you always lived there?”
“I think so?” Ludda answered. “I don’t remember not being there.” After a moment she asked “So why are you so white? Are you sick?”
“I am very sick,” Gwenyver answered, looking down at her shoulder, “very.”
Ludda gasped, jumping to her feet. “Its not… contig..config… I’m not going to get it too, right?”
“It’s too early to tell,” Gwenyver nodded solemnly, “much too early.”
“Why would you let me land on your shoulder?” Ludda sounded both shocked and dismayed. She jumped off the shoulder and hovered by Gwenyver’s head, seeming unsure if she was “safe” yet.
“I didn’t, you just did it on your own will,” Gwenyver shrugged, “You’re probably fine, maybe.”
“Aaaaaaaah!” Ludda yelled as she darted towards Amyntas. Umbra lifted his head as if to glare at the faery in place of his master. The faery completely ignored the dog, however, continuing her cry even as she fly into Amyntas’s hood. A long sigh could be heard from under the hood even as Ludda yelled “I’m going to be sick!”
“And this is how it spreads.” Amyntas commented.
“Am I going to die?” Ludda could be heard asking from under the hood.
“Only if you don’t get enough sleep.” Amyntas answered. There was a gasp and then blissful silence. Amyntas shifted, carefully moving away from Umbra so she could stand. She reached inside, grabbed the faery, and carefully laid her down on Umbra’s back. “Now sleep.” She ordered before walking towards Gwenyver. The faery had already curled up into a ball and was trying, intensely, to fall asleep.
“Did you rest enough?” Gwenyver asked, her arms folding over her chest.
“Yes” Amyntas answered, folding her own arms over her chest.
“Are you sure?” Gwenyver tightened her hug on herself.
“Yes.” Was the only reply given.
“Ludda was happy to tell me quite a bit about you while you slept,” Gwenyver let her arms fall to her sides.
“I see” Amyntas said, her tone revealing nothing. Her gaze shifted to the forest around them before setting back on Gwenyver.
“Well.” Gwenyver digressed.
“As soon as we are ready, we head for the heart of the volcano.”
“By heart you mean the artifact?” Amyntas asked. “Why?”
“We need it to complete our quest,” Gwenyver answered, “it is crucial.”
“How is it critical?” Amyntas asked. It was becoming blatantly obvious that neither party wanted to reveal more than was absolutely necessary.
“Without it, we cannot find the rest of the pieces that belong to the volcano,” Gwenyver answered, “it is our map.”
“We should hasten to obtain it then.” Amyntas stated. “It would be unfortunate if someone else reach it first.” The way she said unfortunate made it sound like she would have preferred to say ‘bothersome’ instead.
“I agree,” Gwenyver replied, her tone almost confused, as if she had forgotten what it was like to talk to Amyntas in the time she spent chatting with Ludda.
“Shall we wait a while longer for Ludda to nap, or wake her up?”
Amyntas glanced back where Ludda and Umbra were sleeping. “She’ll be especially vexatious if we don’t let her sleep.” She commented. “An hour should suffice.”
“What would you like to do in that hour?” Gwenyver asked, curiosity in her tone.
“Wait.” Amyntas said. She pulled out a rag and dampened it with some of the water from her waterskin. She then pulled out her falcata and began to scrub some of the dried blood from the blade, taking extra care to clean the runes on the blade’s sides.
“Where did you get your blade?” Gwenyver asked, shifting towards it.
“It was given to me by the prince.” She didn’t look up from her work. She seemed to be content to say little more, but sensing that Gwenyver would push the conversation further anyways added “I will offer it to Magalis if the opportunity arises.”
“We’ll see,” Gwenyver slinked back suddenly, “who knows what’s to come.”
“Yes” Amyntas agreed. “Especially when certain individuals seem unwilling to explain why Magalis’s servants are after them.”
“There was an insurrection,” Gwenyver answered, “I said this. Not all the Bannik see eye to eye.”
“Curious” Amyntas said. “Perhaps they are not worthy of being Magalis’ foremost servants then.”
“They are more than worthy,” Gwenyver seemed to spit fire under her words, “trust me, they deserve their title.”
Amyntas just grunted before turning her attention fully back to her work. After a few moments she put the freshly cleaned weapon away. She stood and stretched before turning towards Umbra and Ludda. A sharp whistle had the massive mastiff jumping to his feet and dashing towards her. Ludda let out a cry that was equal parts shock and enjoyment as she clung desperately to the dog’s back, doing her best to not fall off.
“Is it breakfast time?” The faery asked as the dog sat before the two women, his face seeming to ask the same question.
“Do you have sufficient supplies for yourself?” Amyntas asked.
“I’m not hungry, but thank you,” Gwenyver answered, patting her dusty robes, “you three should eat, and then we must head for Antioch.”
“Antioch?” Amyntas asked. She pulled out a piece of jerky, broke it into two pieces, and gave both Ludda and Umbra a piece.
“Yay!” Ludda yelled as the grabbed the piece of meat that rivaled her in size. Amyntas was already munching on another piece of meat.
“It’s a crusader state,” Gwenyver answered simply, “I won’t attempt and try to explain its politics, but it is where we need to go.”
“And is it close to Ascain?” Amyntas asked. “Are they faithful subjects of the world-mother?”
“I think we would be better off not mentioning Aketa while we are there,” Gwenyver answered thoughtfully, “Ascain helped them form their crusader state, they are Eleutherian.”
Amyntas’s expression hardened at the mention of Ascain. “Heathens then.” Her tone was flat, but even so it still managed to communicate a large degree of loathing. “I will take care to ensure they don’t learn of my heritage while there.” She glanced at Ludda as she stated “You will not mention our homeland.” The faery nodded once, but otherwise was too absorbed in eating breakfast to pay attention.
“Good,” Gwenyver seemed relieved,” I was slightly worried that you might’ve been opposed to hiding your faith and ethnicity while there. I appreciate fervor, but it is a small sacrifice for our quest.”
“Hahaha!” Ludda exaggerated her laugh as she gave the uneaten portions of her breakfast to Umbra. “Amyntas knows
all about hiding and stuff!” Amyntas gave the faery an icy glare. “That’s what the emperor’s left hand does!”
Gwenyver looked between the two and smiled her awkward smile, “good, then this should go swimmingly.”
“Follow me,” Gwenyver said as she tightened one of the ties on her robes, “we just need to follow the river there, so a few hours march south and then west.”
