Brighid looked around.
Apparently no one needed healing. I guess that's a good sign. I need to do research on werewolves and I don't know that I want someone getting my hopes up if it turns out I'm not going to survive it. Also don't want to get someone else's hopes up as well.Brighid turned and started following the directions that she got from a random person she asked where the library was.
Brighid rubbed her eyes and caressed the spine of the book she had tucked into a pocket sewn into her black dress.
I’m tired of hiding in these clothes. I’m different than the timid girl before… Brighid shook her head and focused on the fact that she was lost now in going from the library to the great hall. Her yellow cloak fluttered as she turned a corner and saw a window that was open.
There was a storm on the horizon. In more ways than one. Brighid moved to the window. She closed her eyes feeling the wind run it’s fingers over her skin and through her hair like a lover. She took a deep breath in. She could smell the rain coming the scent of wet soil. The smell of ozone that came with a storm. The window was deep and a cushion lay on it. There was a bench that Brighid was kneeling on. She leaned her arms on the cushion and watched the storm. Exhaustion quickly took over and as hungry as she was Brighid soon succumbed to the lure of sleep.
Ryder dropped a few coins on the bar before giving Bud a lazy wave and taking his leave from The Stumbling Ass. The questionable alcohol, while possibly turning on him later, was at least enough to take the edge off now. As he walked out of the bar and found himself in the courtyard, he simply stopped for a moment and stood, surveying the his surroundings. He wasn’t even sure where exactly he was planning on going next. Finlay mentioned wanting to have words and then there was the dinner that was approaching soon.
There was a small sense of dread over the idea of talking with Finlay. Not because he thought it would be an aggressive conversation, but because it would likely be bureaucratic discussion and one he had no interest in. After a small stretch, he finally started moving one foot in front of the other once more.
Making his way across the courtyard and back into the confines of the keep proper, he moved down the hallway towards the great hall. All the while he just looked at the ground, his mind racing, but not at any one particular subject. The gift given to him by the alcohol; inability to focus. It was comforting. It wasn’t until he noticed a foreign body entering his line of sight that he finally looked up. A woman looking dazed at the sill of a window, sporting a yellow cloak.
One of the recruits, he thought to himself, answering his own unspoken question. His initial instinct was to keep walking.
Don’t engage. These people are temporary. Move on.“
‘Ey.” Ryder blinked for a second after hearing the word before realizing that it escaped from his own mouth.
So much for that plan. He shook his head subtly, disappointed in himself. The alcoholic swill was a double edged sword. The situation being what it was, he figured he might as well press on. "
You're one of the Yellows," he said, stating the obvious. "
What's your name?"
Brighid's eyes opened slowly and focused on Ryder.
“Brighid. Are you drunk?” She rolled her neck and stretched her arms over her head to wake up.
If he can be informal so can I. Besides I got woken up and I'm ravenous and exhausted. Plus I think he's drunk...cute but drunk.He looked at her with a raised eyebrow while he pondered on what he must've smelled like after his visit to the bar. "
No," he said finally. "
I'm Ryder." While he looked her over, several questions began to pop into his mind as he took in her features. "
The trial. You don't seem too worse for the wear. What's your secret?" Despite his lack of enthusiasm for the assignment he was given, he couldn't help but be curious about the people involved. He thought back on his own trial. His team of initiates all saw themselves as the alphas of the group, reacting accordingly, attacking their creature individually instead of as a unified force. The mistake cost many their lives. This crop of people didn't seem to have that problem, at least for the most part.
Brighid smirked at him.[color=aquamarine] “Well I could say that it's a secret but I won't. I'm a White Healer. I don't suppose you know what that is exactly, do you?” Brighid blinked slowly.
Ryder’s eyes closed into a slight squint and he pondered the response. He didn’t exactly want to come off as ignorant, but imagined some base assumptions would lead him to the general idea of it all. Too relaxed to put up a front, he finally surrendered saying, “
Remind me.”
Brighid raised an eyebrow and looked smug.
“White Healers take the pain of a wound as the wound is healed. Do you need reminding about the others? Or do you remember now?”Ryder let a subtle huff escape his nostrils. “
It’s coming back to me…” he said. A person who could heal by taking on the wound. Quite a bit of sacrifice involved, he imagined. In her shoes, he’d be very selective of who he healed. Who was worth the pain. A thought crossed his mind for a split second.
I wonder if it’s only physical wounds. “
...But do continue.”
Nodding Brighid continued.
“Of course Gray and Black ones as well. But I'm sure someone as knowledgeable as yourself knows about those as well. I shall spare you the lecture on the differences between sects. Any other questions?” Brighid was starting to relax and her eyes started to droop and the effect was like she was insinuating more in the conversation than she was.
She smiled as the wind blew through her hair. The strands seemed to reach out to him teasingly. Her hair was so long that even braided, which it wasn't, it went past her hips. Since she hadn't braided her hair she'd left it down.
Ryder gave a subtle grunt, a gesture of agreement. She seemed preoccupied with her thoughts as she let mother nature caress her. Ryder leaned over to look out the window. In the distance were signs of overcast, yet when he looked to her face, it was almost as if she welcomed it. “
Rain,” he said, as if it were its own declaration. “
Muffles the senses. Easier for the nasties to sneak up on you.” He straightened up again. “
Hopefully it passes by tomorrow. I’ve never been fond of hunting when it’s pouring.” He gave one last look toward the outside before returning his gaze to her. “
Will you be at the dinner?”
Brighid’s stomach chose that time to growl loudly. She turned her head up to Ryder and stood up.
“I was on my way there and got lost. I love storms. All the raw power of nature. Visceral. Primitive. Raw. So you're not training then why are you tagging along with Yellows?” She leaned back against the window sill looking at Ryder.
“
Duty.” He said it simply, showing no emotion. His was reluctant to make eye contact as he spoke. “
I suppose I will see you there. You’ve been with this troop longer than I have. Anything I need to know?”
Brighid was not satisfied with that answer.
“Duty? To what? Goddess? Country? Race? Or was it just something you were told to do? By the by, when someone is talking to you it's customary to look them in the eye. As for the troop… I've known them meer minutes before you. I know we've been through one quitting and one that just minutes before you showed died. I seem to be the opinionated one. There are two werewolves, two vampires, three mages and the rest are human fighters. Look at me when you talk to me.” Brighid stubbornly set her jaw and she invaded his personal bubble.
Ryder scoffed with a smirk. “
Well,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed. “
I’m not sure whether to scold you or offer you a drink.” He took mental note of her headcount before considering which category she fell into. Obviously not a vampire, and she did admit to being a user of magic. He thought back to the other faces he saw in the crew to try and discern if any of them were obviously of a supernatural ilk. He finally snapped back and focused on Brighid once more.
“
But always keep in mind that you are entitled to nothing here. Not an explanation, not respect.” He spoke not in anger, but as a matter of fact. “
However, I look forward to seeing you earn it.”
Brighid raised an eyebrow.
“Entitlement is more of a male state of mind. I earn my keep. Like right now. I earned it years ago, you're just slow on the uptake. It's okay, you men can't be pretty and smart. I get it.” She smirked holding his eyes in her silvery gray ones.
“So you want to ask? Go on ask your question? That will mean you weren't paying attention to me. I hate that. I don't like wasting my breath. And consequences come with my anger. So ask your question pretty boy.”He took in her stare, the color of her eyes. “
Vampires, werewolves and mages,” he said, as if musing on the thought. ”
And you’re one of the latter? Is that what makes your eyes that color? I’ve known mages who don’t quite share that quality.” The question was leading. Ryder watched her face for any physical cues, anything that could help him read her past the words that she chose to speak.
Brighid shrugged.
“I don't know what you mean. My eyes are what my mother referred to as a dove gray. She always said that her mother's eyes were that color as well. Yes I am a mage. As I stated earlier a White Healer. And…” Brighid shrugged again and started to step away looking around for a clue as to where the main hall was.
“
And…” It came out in a whisper. Ryder looked her over. There were no blemishes forming on her skin from the kiss of sunlight. He looked away again and down at his feet, a grin forming across his face. “
What’s wrong. You look like a dog trying to find its bone.”
Brighid's eyes snapped back to Ryder.
“More likely that I'll be dead in less than two weeks. Declan had it easy. He's dead. I'm still alive trying to pick up pieces of a shattered existence and refit them.” Brighid started to visibly shake and the volume of her voice rising as the wind blew the windows open and the breeze picked up. Her eyes flashed like lightning as the wind curled through the hall in a mad rush around the corner.
“But by all means provoke the caster wolf. The only one in history from what I can tell. I have the sword of Damocles over my head but a joke about a bone makes everything better.”Brighid shoves at him to get around him. Barely aware enough to keep it in check so she didn't hurt him. Unknowingly she had allowed herself to be boxed in.
“Let me pass!!” Her temper flared and she snapped the phrase out. Glaring up at Ryder. Her eyes defiant sparks her hair blown back showing the delicate bone structure. Her shapeless dress blown to mold her form. Lean arms and legs, gently rounded hips and large breasts that looked even larger due to her petite bone structure. They were glimpses as the wind changed direction and shifted to and fro.
Ryder’s face remained stoic. It wasn’t that he wasn’t impressed by the display (and perhaps even a little intimidated), but he would never willingly offer that information through body language. If your opponent can’t read you, then they can’t predict what you’re going to do next. It was an essential skill to learn when every day could be your last.
“
I didn’t take you for being sensitive,” he said.
Declan. He’d have to remember to come back to that later. “
Two weeks. What makes you think you’re dead in two weeks?”
“Because no caster has survived the transition. How do you function in ignorance? I don't like not knowing if I'll live or die. I'm amazed that I survived the fever after the attack. And it only serves to anger me more that a complete stranger cares more than the few that I know!! Everything is so different now… and the same. I look back on how I'd have dealt with this and cringe. I was a doormat.” Her voice lowers to a whisper and thunder rolls almost covering her next sentence.
“And I like this new me.”She seemed to remember he was there and shook her head and raised hands out to the sides to palms up and the extra wind stopped. She moved them together in front of her and titled her hand to point at the ceiling thumb first and middle finger touching. The windows shut one after the other till the only one unaffected was the one that had already been open.
“I'm not sensitive...and even so with what I've got in store will make what I've gone through pale in comparison.”“
Seems like you have two choices in the matter,” Ryder said as he glanced over all the windows after they had shut. “
Own it or let it own you.” His eyes shot back at Brighid. “
The way this life works, dinner isn’t guaranteed. You show up for a feast or you never feast again and it can happen at any time. You’ve got an upcoming challenge that you’ve never faced before in two weeks. Hell, woman, you might have one tomorrow morning.” Ryder shifted his weight and pivoted until his back was leaning up against one of the walls, facing outward to the courtyard, his eyes staring out, but looking far beyond the image that was in front of him. “
Shit gets rough and there ain’t a soul in here who’s had it easy. Otherwise why the hell would we have walked through those doors? I’m sorry for your demons. But fuck ‘em.” His neck turned to look at her and he gave a stern, but shallow nod.
Brighid ground her teeth and advanced on Ryder poking him in the chest.
“I have a name Ryder,” she made his name sound like a dirty word and stabbing him with a slender long finger.
“I'd appreciate it if you use it since I gave it to you. Leave my demons to me. They're old enemies and familiar.” Staring off into space she murmured.
“Life is short live it well and in the moment...for you don't know your last…”She blushed as she realized that she was very close and snatched her hand back. She cleared her throat and swallowed stepping back as far as she could. Which wasn't far. Judging from the length of his arm probably still within arms reach.
“If you could possibly forget my attitude and point me to the great hall, I'd be eternally grateful.” She smiled weakly, as if to say, pretty sure you know you now have the upper hand.
“
Nearly there,” he said, locking eyes. “
Keep going down this corridor and make a left. It’ll be at the end.” He didn’t move, didn’t point. Just spoke. “
I hope you find what you’re looking for. Brighid.”
Brighid looked Ryder in the eye and stopped breathing.
What's that supposed to mean? And that look… Brighid straightened and said breathlessly.
“A cure. And to make a difference, what I've always wanted.” Brighid was mentally kicking her own butt all the way to the great hall that she still hadn't moved toward.
“
For now, you have control over the latter. You’re in the right place.” Ryder pushed himself off the wall. “
The other bit… Well, let’s start by walking and see if we can’t figure out how to run together, ya?” He had never heard about a cure for lycanthropy, but he had seen enough in his life to know that nothing was impossible. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe… This woman, this Brighid. Fiery, to say the least, but also a force to be reckoned with, as she demonstrated. Ryder was already certain that she was interesting. He was curious to see what the future held. “
You and I. We good?”
Brighid blushed and the only thing that kept her eyes on Ryder was if she turned away she was sure that it would reveal that she connected to this stranger in a way that she was afraid couldn't be undone. Couldn't because it was to intertwined with who she actually was now.
“Yeah we're good. Why wouldn't we be?” She turned and walked a few feet away hips swaying. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“You coming?”Ryder’s eyes squinted for a moment, taking a half second to consider. “
I suppose so.” His initial steps were quick, catching up to her pace before he found a more relaxed stride as he trekked the hallway. He started thinking of the dinner to come. He hadn’t had a meal that he didn’t have to catch in over a fortnight. The thought was beginning to make him salivate. “
Did you have to travel far to get here?”
Brighid grinned at Ryder as he caught up. For a tiny woman she was used to her brother's strides. Calpernia had insisted that if she could still move with the grace of a swan and take man sides strides then she could dance. Brighid pushed the memory away.
“Yes from a village in Chillwood. They took me in when I stumbled in to town out of my mind with fever and blood loss. What about you?” Brighid looked over at him and took in his expression into consideration.
“
Mm,” he grunted, a little surprised. “
Spent most of my life just outside of Chillwood.” A place he hoped never to have to return for any extended period. Too many happy memories drowned in blood. “
Did you say fever and blood loss?” His interest was piqued.
Brighid pressed her lips together.
“Werewolf bite. So yes.”Ryder’s stride was a bit of a rhythm. He found himself focusing on it as his mind wandered toward other things, constantly calculating his next move. “
A new home where they knew they were inviting danger,” he said finally. There was no judgement in his tone. If anything, that was a curious admiration.
“
And what motivates you to be here,” he asked with waved arms, showcasing the keep.
Brighid scoffed at his reference for a new home.
“No. Not a new home. Hunting party. Declan…” she shook her head her voice choking off. She swallowed audibly and cleared her throat.
“Wolves. Not normal.” Brighid stopped and wiped her cheeks and eyes as she breathed in shakily. Consciously not looking at Ryder.
“
Mm,” came the familiar grunt. “
Declan. That’s twice you’ve said his name.” It was an inquisitive statement. The pieces were coming together in Ryder’s mind, but he was still curious if she would talk on it. He noticed he was taping each of his finger tips to his thumb as he walked. A tick often executed when he was in thought, calculating. As soon as he realized he was doing it, he forced himself to stop. No telegraphing.
Brighid cleared her throat.
“My older brother. I shouldn't be surprised. He's a big influence on my life even though he's dead.” Brighid had noticed that he wore a ring. So he was probably married and just being nice.
“So your wife is pretty lucky if she gets this kind of focused attention.”Ryder looked at his hand, connecting the dots that lead to the question. He opened his mouth to speak but paused, even ceasing to breathe. His figurative armor was chinked. Reluctance was building up. After a beat, he let out a sigh of surrender before saying, “
She was anything but lucky.” He spent many nights letting loose tears for Alice and he was sure there’d be more nights to come, but tonight would not be one of those nights. He wouldn’t allow it.
Brighid watched Ryder say that his wife wasn't lucky and stopped breathing. She reached out and put her hand lightly on his arm for comfort.
Oh Goddess...he's a widower. His tone and posture say it was bad. I'll change the subject quickly.
“So how long did it take for you to become a Hood?” Brighid had left her hand on his arm and gently squeezed to get his attention.
The hairs on the back of Ryder’s neck began to stand on end. He let out a small huff of breath as he found himself a bit surprised. He hadn’t felt that kind of electricity in a long time. “
Roughly a year,” he eventually answered. “
They make you earn it. Some get to Red faster than others and there are no defined prerequisites for what makes you qualify. If you ever asked the Commander what you needed to do to get the hood, she would simply say ‘Prove you deserve it’. I brought down many enemies, performed several tasks, but it wasn’t until I nearly got myself killed that they finally decided it was time. It’s different for everyone.” And immediately after getting full fledged membership, he took off on his own to tackle a personal vendetta, solo, breaking a cardinal rule. Part of him was surprised that he wasn’t demoted entirely.
Brighid looked intently at Ryder.
“Well that makes it even more difficult. Just out of curiosity how many female werewolves are there in the keep? I am hoping I'm not the only one. From what I've gathered they seem very close to wolves.” Brighid bit her lip. She hoped he didn't want to know why she was asking.
A shrug was the simple answer. “
There’s too many wearing a hood for me to keep track of. Potentially there are others, but I’ve not fought alongside any of them. Worried about competition?” Ryder allowed a small smirk to escape.
Brighid felt herself smile.
“Competition? For whom? No more like wanted to know what I was in for, assuming that I make it that far of course.”“
Mm.” Ryder stared off for a moment. Her question birthed more questions within himself. He’d been with this organization for a while and he was so fixated on his own goals that he truly didn’t know much about his brothers or sisters in arms. Maybe there
were other werewolves and he was too blind to notice. As a race, they could blend in quite well most of the time. There were certainly tells, though…
“
When do you turn,” came the question with a businesslike tone.
Brighid sighed.
“Two weeks...If I survive. Why?” She sounded puzzled not offended just puzzled and that came across in her speech.
“
I suppose I’ll need to make myself available when that time comes,” he said as a matter of fact. “
Off to a decent start taming the woman. Perhaps I can tame the beast as well.” Ryder let loose a wink in jest. Something to take her mind off the grim aspects of what was coming.
Brighid gapped at him and sputtered.
“I… well… it wasn’t like… not likely. Can’t prove it!!!” She finally lamely spat out as she stopped out of arm's reach as she stomped her foot lightly and put her hands on her hips as she glared at him.
“You couldn’t tame anything let alone me.”“
Uh huh.” Ryder didn’t stop walking, nor did he make any attempt to conceal his crooked grin. As his footsteps echoed down the corridor, he faced straight ahead and listened to see if they would be accompanied by another pair.
He was walking past… Brighid shrugged and caught up with Ryder not making eye contact. She looked around. Wait where were they?
“Shouldn’t we already be in the great hall?”“
About that,” Ryder smirked. “
We missed our turn just a little ways back, but I figured the conversation was worth the extra travel time.” He executed an about-face and placed his hand on Brighid’s shoulder, pulling her in a little so that her line of sight would match his as he pointed to the corridor over yonder. “
That’s our target.” WIth that, he led the way. It wouldn’t be long before they heard the rumblings of the other occupants of the keep.
Brighid’s head titled.
“Worth the extra travel time? You make tha-” He reached out and touched her shoulder pulling her in. He smelled like the forest after a rain. He was warm too. His breath caressed her temple and she shivered lightly.
Maybe he didn’t notice that. I’m not hungry...maybe... I’ll feel differently after eating.Brighid walked behind him noticing his stride and the play of his muscles as he walked. She shook herself she only noticed anything remotely like that on one person. Sadon. She blushed and quickened her pace to over take Ryder.
Brighid poked at her dinner forcing herself to eat not really tasting anything. She was sure that she’d either lost both friends that she could have counted on in Eliza and Sadon. And she didn’t want to ask to make sure.
She saw the archer who had tried to shoot Vitius try and push buttons. Vitius didn’t look phased and the archer walked off.
Wasn’t his name Rivington or something like that? Brighid shrugged and with her plate clear, surprisingly, she turned it in and went to her room. Getting the directions right.
