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Eliza
Eliza placed her knapsack in the carriage her mentor had called for her. Inside the soft leather bag were chunks of clay, a journal filled with handwritten notes, materials for her bottled spells and, of course, charms and inanimate creatures of all different varieties. The
carriage itself was worn, with chips of black paint missing and slight chinks in the wood. The two horses that were assigned to pull the carriage were old, but they looked well fed and the coachman seemed to take care of them. Eliza couldn't be happier. It was as if she were a babe, taking her first steps out into the world without the guidance of her parent. She would no longer be coddled. The trials and tribulations she would face as she learned to combat evil would be great. In the end, she would come out a better, more learned person. The coachman took his place after checking the horses' gear and gave Eliza the okay to get in. With a grin, Eliza placed her foot on the small stepping stool and began climbing in.
"
Are you ready?" Eliza jumped as the smooth, somewhat melancholy tones of her mentor's voice flitted through the air and struck her ears. Stepping off the stool, she turned and threw her fist over her heart -effectively showing off her branded forearm- before bowing. It was the standard greeting between mentor and student. At least, it was what he had taught her to do upon seeing him. When she rose from her bow, he waved dismissively, stepping closer and wrapping her up in a warm embrace. "
I'll miss you dearly."
Eliza's eyes widened at the strength of his hold and his choice of words. During their two years together they had shared almost every meal, chattered endlessly about the different types of magic, and on occasion dived into their pasts, sharing secrets that no one else knew. They had grown close, but it was always a surprise when he showered her with affection, preferring to keep their relationship platonic. He released her only moments after Eliza relaxed into his grip and returned the hug, looking her up and down to see if she truly was ready to go.
"I've got everything I need, they'll provide us with food at the Keep I'm sure." She wasn't a picky eater, but she rarely found herself craving food, which was why she hadn't packed any for the short journey. Perhaps once she began training she'd grow more hungry.
"I'll miss you, but I should be on my way." He nodded, though it was barely perceptible. Tears stung the corners of Eliza's eyes without warning, so she hurriedly turned and climbed into the coach. Reaching outside the carriage, she gestured to the driver and in seconds they were moving. Turning to face her mentor one last time, she gave him her brightest smile before settling back and closing her eyes.
~
The ride to the Keep was relatively short, and Eliza occupied herself by making small figures out of the clay she had packed. The roads were bumpy, and the results were usually shoddy at best so she ended up squishing them between her fingers. She had plenty of clay beings that she had spent days crafting -all currently in cases to preserve their shape- so she didn't mind destroying the creations she spent only a few minutes on.
Once the carriage halted, she knew they had arrived. Outside, she could hear men and women alike shouting. Looking out the window, she realized they were herding them towards the drawbridge. Once she crossed, she would be trapped inside the Keep if they decided to raise it. Excitement, as well as a healthy dose of anxiety, ran up and down her spine at the thought. She opened the door of her carriage, careful not to hit anyone with it, and ventured out after slipping on her knapsack.
Almost immediately, she bumped into a man with dark, medium length hair and a large scar running down his left arm. Eliza tried not to stare hoping he didn't notice the way her eyes widened upon seeing it. She had experienced immense pain during her branding, but whatever had caused his scarring must've hurt to the same degree or even worse. When she took the time to pry her eyes away from the scar and look up at his face, she noticed he was rather striking.
Colin
Down the back of a back alley, about as close to the Red Hoods’ keep as Colin could afford to stay (which was, suffice to say, not particularly close), The Hung Shark was a surprisingly nice little tavern. Sure, the drink was very obviously watered down, and Colin didn’t know
what mysterious and terrible curse the barmaid had been placed under that made her talk so much, but it had a good atmosphere, taxidermied shark swinging from the ceiling supports notwithstanding.
It had been a rowdy crowd, despite the ‘alcohol’ being served, and the carnage littering the previously well put together front of house meant that he had to carefully pick his way through a minefield of smashed bar stools and sticky puddles of something that he hoped to god was just spilt beer. He paused mid step, best to make one less check that he had everything with him before setting off. He set his stuffed pack down on one of the less wobbly chairs and released the hide string keeping it shut. A quick inventory revealed that he had everything he needed for travel, although his canteen was only half full, and he was a fair few coins shorter than he should’ve been. Satisfied, he closed the bag again and clipped his
bow and half-full quiver of arrows to the back. He swung it over a shoulder and did a quick check to ensure his
twin daggers, a gift and therefore perhaps the nicest items he owned, were still secured to his belt. They were, so he made for the door.
The sun had barely started to rise, and tomato clouds tipped orange light through the single window near the ceiling. What was it Angus used to say about red skies in the morning? Nothing good, that was for certain. Not there was a whole lot he could do about it. He stifled a yawn. The noise, not so much drifting as cannonballing into his room, had kept him up late into the night. Not that Colin minded at the time, in fact, after the long stretches of empty countryside on the journey up, it had been comforting to be around the noise and bustle of a city tavern again. He’d missed it, really; the atmosphere, the sounds of regular people enjoying themselves on a regular night, pouring out their sorrows and songs in equal measure…
Andi had said he would.
He allowed himself a not-quite-smile at that thought of his old boss, but then he pushed it away. He didn’t have time for that. As if to remind him just how little he had time for it, his scar itched. Almost of its own volition, his right hand reached towards the spot just where his rolled-up sleeves stopped, and scratched, stubby nails digging into the twisted, knotted scar tissue. He snatched it away when he realised what he was doing, it was a bad habit, one that he probably would have an easier time ceasing if he ever remembered to apply the ointment that Andi had found for that reason. Forcefully, he pulled his sleeves back down in order to serve as a deterrent, and made his way, finally, out onto the empty, pre-morning streets of Duncaster.
~
Colin saw the Red Hood Keep long before he arrived, it was hard to miss - grey stone harsh against the opulent buildings that made up central Duncaster. He made quick time through the immaculately cobbled streets, eyes drawn to the twisting spires and marbled walls, the warm, yeasty scent of baking bread drifting through the streets. What would it be like to live somewhere like this? It was unlikely the residents of these buildings had to sleep with a knife beneath their pillow and barricade their doors every full moon. He was uncomfortable, skin crawling with a feeling that he couldn’t quite place as he became very aware of his own scuffed, uncomfortable boots and oft-mended clothing. This wasn’t a place for the likes of him.
Soon, he arrived at the keep. He paused, taking in the scene around him. It was impressive to say the least. What was less impressive, however, was when a rickety carriage almost ran him over. He stumbled somewhat, before straightening himself, only to be almost bumped into again. He turned, irritation twisting in his stomach as prepared to face his assailant, only to be met by a young woman.
He couldn’t help but squirm as he noticed her soft brown eyes immediately flicking to the arm. He must have rolled his sleeves up during the walk and not noticed. It was too late now, he supposed, as he noticed a few others staring at the gnarled appendage. He knew what it looked like, what it said about him and his life, and the judgement it drew wasn’t something he particularly cared for.
The woman though, her eyes… he didn’t see judgement. Just kindness, and he instantly warmed to her.
"My apologies! I didn't mean to slam into you." She began, offering up a small smile.
"I'm Eliza, and you are?" “’S all right, no harm done” he smiled in return, his accent, though softened by the years he spent in Sinstead, was clearly of Northern origin,
“I’m Colin, you here for the initiation?" Eliza's grin only widened upon hearing his accent. She had grown accustomed to the throaty way Northerner's annunciated their words during her time as a barmaid. Once she processed what he had said, she let loose a light chuckle.
"I suppose I don't look the part, do I?" Where he had toned muscles and loved weaponry strapped to his back, she had little more than her charms and her overwhelming spirit. This would have to change before she got struck down on the field due to her lack of skill.
"But yes, I am here for initiation." "Are you any good with that bow of yours? Or do you have some other trick up your sleeve?" She asked him, beginning to walk. Her strides were small, in the hopes that he would follow alongside her. She was curious about Colin. Being the first person she met on her journey toward greatness made him all the more intriguing.
“Shit, sorry, that, err, I didn’t mean you weren’t…” his ears burned as he stumbled over his words, the thought that he might’ve made her feel insecure with his carelessness impossible to ignore. He pushed away the impulse to scratch at the scar, “
I just meant, y’know, that I am too, here for the initiation,” he paused momentarily as she started to walk towards the drawbridge, before quickly making to follow. There was something about Eliza, more than just friendliness, she just seemed… light, in a way that not a lot of people were, and that couldn’t really be ignored once you’d noticed it.
At her question about his bow, his tone became enthused,
“You mean Nessie? Yeah, I can shoot an arrow into a bloodsucker if that’s what you’re on about, not as good as the hoods archers though, although hopefully I might get to be one day,” he loved archery, there was something about that moment of utter concentration, that breath, and then… he pulled himself away from the momentary distraction,
“I s’pose I can stab pretty good too,” he continued,
“but generally if a vamp’s that close you’ve gone wrong somewhere down the line.” He tried to figure out what Eliza’s preferred style of combat might be. He couldn’t see any visible weapons on her person, and regardless, her small frame meant she’d probably struggle to even lift the kinds of swords some of the gathered crowds were lugging around, never mind fight with one. That left only one option really,
“So…” he began nervously,
“I'm guessing you do some sort of magic?” Eliza accepted his apology with a dismissive wave. She had made the assumption that he hadn't meant to offend her, he just didn't seem like that type of man. She also wasn't one to linger on harsh words, even if they slandered her race or family. Many considered her a pushover because of this, but she was keen on taking the high ground. After all, everyone she knew had moments of weakness where they said the wrong thing without meaning it, and she was no exception. Before she had made amends with the people of her past, she had been filled with regret at everything she had let slip whilst drunk or angry. Now that she had done all the fixing her heart required, she retained the ability to remain remorseless.
Eliza gave Colin her utmost attention as he spoke, her eyes lighting up with mirth as he told her his bow's pet name. When he regaled her with his talk of slaying vampires, she couldn't help but look around at their audience. She assumed there were vampires in the crowd, sentenced to serve under the Red Hoods. Still, she didn't bother to shush Colin, because she didn't particularly care for the vampiric race. It was wrong of her, but her religious teachings told her that vampires were not embraced by the Goddess, as they feasted upon the lifeblood of humans and Spellcasters alike. Perhaps once she got to know what their kind was like, she'd begin to understand them and sympathize with them more. For the time being, she would keep her prejudice.
"I'd hate to be on the receiving end of a vampire's outburst." She commented, watching as his gaze wandered over her. Not in a strange, perverted way. It was more like he was sizing her up, trying to see what she had to offer. She could see the shift in his gaze, the moment he noticed that she carried no weapons, and came to the conclusion that she must be a magic user. Her continuous smile faltered, but she took off her knapsack anyways and began to rummage through it, eager to show him that magic was more fun than frightful. Digging out a case labeled 'flight', she opened it to reveal a painted clay butterfly. Though the clay was still soft, it was incredibly lifelike, with veins in its thin wings and two spindly antennae. She also pulled out one of her bottled spells, this one labeled 'ice'. It contained a small blue flower and a few crystals, all floating in a clear, iridescent liquid. She offered them up Colin, hoping to impress him.
"I'm a charm maker. I can bring that butterfly to life, and that bottle is actually an elemental spell! If I activated it, your hand would be frozen in a block of ice." She showed off her toothy grin, incredibly proud of her work. It had taken a week to craft that butterfly and nearly a month of going through different recipes to finally perfect the ice-in-a-bottle spell.
"If you're curious about how anything works, I can explain it to you. It's nothing bad, I swear." Colin watched as she retrieved a small case, curious in spite of himself. In truth, he didn’t know very much about magic. Street performers mostly, especially in recent years, hoping to earn coin with tricks of the eye and the mind. He’d heard rumours of course, of dark practitioners, and sacred things traded away down dimly lit alleys in exchange for a moment indulging in fantasy, or more often, revenge.
Eliza, bless her heart, did not look like the type be doing anything down a back alley, dimly lit or otherwise.
And so, he allowed himself to indulge his curiosity as she handed him the beautiful sculpture. He took it in his hand, gently, afraid to break it. Colin had never seen anything like it before in his life, it was soft and delicate, although it was clearly modelled from clay, he could not fathom how. It looked like all he would have to do would be to blink, and it might fly away before his very eyes. The bottle, although less spectacular, was equally beautiful. Enamoured, he held it to the light for a better view, allowing the sun to shine through and dance between the crystals.
He listened diligently to her explanation, the passion she had for her work obvious in her expression and the way she spoke. He could imagine her, sat in a little workshop, or wherever it was spellcasters honed their craft, pouring hours into the creations she’d presented. But still, it seemed… he wasn’t sure, but there was a part of him that recoiled from the idea of the otherworldly,
“That’s… amazing, really, but isn’t it, I dunno, risky to be messing around with stuff like that?” He gave a barely perceptible frown, considering the bottle,
“I mean, you could really hurt someone with something like this if you did it wrong or something,” he handed the objects back to her, right hand twitching slightly towards his left at that thought,
“sorry if that seems harsh, in all honesty I don’t really know much about magic and stuff, for all I know it’s perfectly safe.” his brow wrinkled, a thought crossing his mind,
"Do you think... do you think you could maybe show me, sometime? How it works and all that? I would like to know more, even if it is risky. Only if you want to, of course." Retrieving her items, Eliza took a quick glance at her surroundings. Surprisingly, during their brief conversation, they had made it all the way to the drawbridge. Countless amounts of people were funneled into the opening of the Keep, to the point where Eliza wondered how they would all manage to fit inside. She hoped there wouldn't be any conflict once they entered, but with all the different personalities she was sure something would happen. Of course, the threatening presence of the Red Hoods would keep some people quiet. Pausing, she waited for a space in the crowd so they could continue walking side-by-side without interrupting the conversation. It was quite an interesting one, after all. She had always had a difficult time convincing people that magic was a good thing. She supposed it was similar to the way a vampire would have a difficult time convincing someone that they weren't evil. Some people were more open to the idea, while others had shut off their mind completely. She could tell that Colin was walking the line, his scale balanced between the two ideas. She wanted to tip him towards acceptance because there were so many people out there that didn't accept her kind.
"The same way you could mortally wound someone by throwing your knives around carelessly, I could mortally wound someone by setting off a charm bottle without warning." She began, flipping her knapsack's cover shut and slipping it over her shoulders once again.
"It all depends on how the magic is being used. Some mages use it for evil deeds, and there are others that utilize it for the greater good. It's a weapon, but so is Nessie." Of course, there were mages who only used magic for pleasure, but she'd explain that to him later. When he commented on the fact that magic could be completely sound, she paused, reaching out to grab his good arm and halting him for a moment. A few people behind them cursed at the interference, but she didn't mind. Her eyes went hard, and her pitch turned low.
"That being said, never blindly trust magic. Yes, there are some practices that are 'perfectly safe', but there are others that appear safe on the surface only to end up being devastating. That is how most mages end up being taken in by the dark arts." Releasing him, her eyes softened once more and she continued walking. Merrily, she nodded her head at his final suggestion.
"I'd love to show you some things about the safer side of magic, if you could show me how to wield a dagger." She figured she would at least try to get something out of this. As much as she loved teaching people, she loved being taught even more. Plus, if her magic ever failed her, she would need a backup.
She had a point, he supposed, if he looked at it from that point of view, then it made sense. Magic was a tool, like Nessie, like his knives, like the swords and the armor carried by the people around them, and in a sense, like the red cloaks worn by the hoods themselves - all ways to exert power over another, whether for good or for bad. At their heart, spellcasters were essentially human, just with the ability to do the things a normal human could only want to. Not like the monsters - they weren’t motivated by a maddening thirst rendering them soulless creatures, nor driven mad by the tides of the moon and the beast, both literal and metaphorical, inside.
A hand, out of nowhere, grabbed his arm. For a moment, his heart stuttered, muscles tensed, and then he relaxed. Just Eliza. He would have laughed at himself and his overreaction if he hadn’t noticed her voice taking on a very serious tone. Her eyes darkened, and he grew wary in response as she spoke, warning him of the dangers of magic, the rest of the world seeming to fade into nonimportance in response.
And then, just like that, she was off again. Colin took a moment to recover from the sudden change back to their light-hearted tone but was soon following. He grinned at her offer
“Sure, I can show you a few things, word of warning though, I’ve mostly only ever been the student, not the teacher. It’s a useful skill to have though, especially if you get cornered or something.” They were approaching the inside of the keep, and Colin couldn’t help but momentarily forget about his conversation partner, opting instead to stare in open-mouthed awe. It was huge! If the outside of the keep made little attempt to match its surroundings, then the inside was quite the opposite; marbled walls trimmed with what surely mustn’t have been real gold, lacquered wood flooring, so shiny he was scared to step on it, a lush red carpet, draped in opulent heaps over a central stage, and not to mention the amount of
people. It was yet another new experience, in a day that had already been full of them, and Colin’s head was starting to spin with all the new information.
The older redcoats stared at them as Colin and Eliza, along with what he assumed must be the other new initiates thanks to their lack of the characteristic red cloaks, were ushered to the centre of the room. A thrill of dread ran through him. What was going to be asked of them? He glanced at Eliza - at least he had someone he seemed to get along with for whatever lay ahead.
He was ready, he decided. There was no goin-
“
Watch it, dobber!” Colin winced at the sudden unexpected impact and the accompanying harsh words. He’d done it again, hadn’t he? He was not having a good day as far as the whole ‘not bumping into people’ thing went. He looked up at the
man - he had a reedy build, but judging from the combination of battle scars, red cloak, and the authoritative way he moved about the keep, he was not someone to be crossed.
He tried to hide the angry aching of his arm, biting down on the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t that bad, and the impact had been quite hard. He held up his other hand to concede,
“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” he said, trying not to invoke the man’s apparently bottomless well of ire.
Upon entering the Keep, Eliza marveled at the magnificent interior. The outside had appeared stony and cold, but the inside offered a touch of lavishness that she hadn't been expecting. She only hoped that this would carry into their bedrooms, but it was more than likely that they were going to be sleeping on the ground since there were so many people to accommodate. She turned to look at Colin, her brow furrowing when she wasn't able to spot him. After a few moments of frantic searching, she narrowed in on him. He had been pushed back a few paces by the flood of people, and though she couldn't hear what he was saying over all the chatter in the hall, she saw his lips moving as he spoke to a man in a red cloak.
Attempting to get back to him, she paused upon seeing a flash of deep red hair. Hair that belonged to someone just a tad bit shorter than she. To a
woman in loose-fitting clothing that concealed a beautiful figure she had only seen once, on accident. But, it simply couldn't be her, could it? Glancing between Colin and the woman, she decided she would finish up her conversation and pray she could find the girl again. Rushing through the crowd towards Colin, she tapped him on his good shoulder and hurriedly said,
"I have an old friend to catch up with, but I promise I'll find you later. Remember our deal!" With that, she was off. The Goddess must've blessed her path because it only took a few short minutes to find her again. Eliza would recognize those grey eyes anywhere. After all, they had been good friends up until last month.
"Brighid?" She questioned, reaching out to grasp the girl on the shoulder.
