AniThari

Along The Darkest Road

(( A co-post with Igraine and myself. ))

Navid carefully distributed little chalky, hard-packed packets to the travelers, in sets of three. "Set them in water, and then on fire. After that, run away. The smoke will be dense and blinding and everyone needs to see clearly."

Amber eyes locked on to Eri, one of the few he did not pass a set of smoke capsule. "We will need to walk through the smoke. They prepped the stage but we will steal the show. I promise that your brother and sister will walk with high heads. I know because I will cut the ropes around their necks - you just have to snatch them up." Navid would ensure that with his trail spell worked into the powder he made the imps would follow those scents as opposed to the Travelers. Unless he was wrong at which point he might need to splinter from the group. Imps did not look well on those who cast spells on them or tricked them onto the wrong path.

Then his gaze turned to Myra and his smile grew. He lifted his hand and pinched her cheek like she was a child. "I saw a shadow try to cover your face again. If you feel it happening you do the same, okay? Tell it that you know you are beautiful and you never needed the mask it tried to force on you. Tell it you are going to draw the sun, the sky, and all the colorful birds you want to see.

Edimér nodded grimly, his fingers playing about the scarf tied off at his throat as Navid's words played through his head once more. There would be little mystery to any of those gathered, what people would dare walk through smoke and fire and hell and shadow for their brothers and sisters, and certainly not among these shade-infested people, but breath would be hard to come by in all the smoke. "I'll be ready - as will the horses." Here among his people, his family, at a time of such dire need, there was no pretending he could not do exactly as promised.

His eyes scanned the heads of the crowd once more, before returning to Navid. His stomach turned, sick and empty at the sight of Mino, so obviously the leader intent on murdering his own family - no. No, so obviously the thing taken up residence within him. This was the devil, the true dark leader of all the other shades here... His stomach writhed, teeth grated together in frustration and fury... When did this happen? How!? How did they miss this thing growing inside him? And Edimér cursed himself for a blind fool, knowing how this would break Chavi's heart, and Abe's too were his heart not already cracked quite through when he fell.

Drust...

No, he couldn't get sidetracked, not now. Drust and Maggie, and then to the caravan and only pray they were swift and cunning and clever enough. Floure's arrival seemed a gift from the ancestors, like an omen of good fortune, that they were destined to keep all their family together, somehow. Some way.

Navid watched from his position with a serene look on his face as if nothing was amiss. Just two more deaths he was about to witness ready to be written down on his ever growing list. His eyes only glanced at Edimér once while he waited for the signal, his axes ready to be thrown but hidden close to his body. As he watched the crowd he made note of the people he might have to kill to further the escape. While it was something he wanted to avoid, Navid also saw nothing wrong with preparing for any atrocious possibility.

Edimér easily wrapped his arm around Floure's shoulders, pulling the young lady close for a very short moment before he turned to kiss her forehead lightly, with a small, sad smile. As relieved as he was to know his Traveler sister was alive, and well, this was no place for her now. "Run back to the caravan, little Flower. Turn away now, and walk slowly and draw no attention until you're clear - and then run for all you're worth," he murmured softly, his face as close to hers as a lover. "All hell is about to break loose here, and flowers are too easily trampled. Go now."

Eri's arm fell back to his side, slipping into the crowd as he pulled the scarf up over the lower half of his face. A nearly imperceptible twitch of his dark eyes was all the signal he needed as a flash of pale cream and purest white bolted in from both sides of the gallows, Beryl's muscular body knocking the sheriff straight of his feet, even as Pearl's sharp-toothed maw wrapped about the hand about to pull that lever.

The smoke began to trickle in heavy as the dogs went after began their charge, which caused Navid to grin rather wickedly. He actually had thought of a show using axes to free some little princess or some such story and he was pleased to test the idea on a crowd. Of course he learned the key to freeing someone from their bindings was to throw at an angle so the axe hit horizontally that way it had a better chance of cutting the ropes. Navid almost panicked when the axe in his left hand escaped his grip and flew towards Nevan. He thought he threw a little too low but the satisfying sound of metal on wood told him otherwise. As fast as his feet would carry him, Navid charged up the stage and spotted Edimér doing the same in the increasingly heavy blue smoke.

Pearl sank her teeth deeper still into the arm of the sherriff, even as Beryl's teeth closed about his throat, keeping the shade-filled man's body entirely away from the lever as the pack master seemed to materialize from the crowd, hopping up onto the gallows planks. "I got you brother," he hissed in Drust's ear, pulling the dagger from its sheath and slicing swiftly at the ropes that bound his hands. In seconds he had his cloak removed and around his brother's shoulders.

As the smoke rose all around them, Eri's eyes sought out Navid, a piercing whistle cutting through the air and the sound of pounding hooves and furious shouts and screams from among the crowd.

And Navid's ears picked up when he heard Edimér's whistle just as he began to cut Maggie free. He then loosened the noose from her neck and threw it to the side so the crowd would have nothing to grab onto. "Madam if you would follow Nevan." He said as he pulled her towards his friend so they could get onto the horses as one group.

Still in an eerily calm tone, despite the noises that began to rise from the crowd, the amber eyed man added, "And your daughter has been a lovely little queen since you have been gone, although I think she dearly missed her mamma."

It was then the screams and shouts rose to near fever pitch in a matter of seconds, and Eri knew the shades wouldn't be fooled for long. He simply couldn't help the longing gaze in his eyes as he glanced toward Mino, his little brother Mino - the man who would turn every last man, woman and child in this shade-infested crowd on them in a heartbeat.

The horses Mino once loved so dearly appeared at the edge of he stage. A short, terse bark toward Beryl and Pearl had the bully dogs instantly off and away from the sheriff, leaping from the gallows stage and tearing through the surging crowd of people, disappearing into Navid's smoke. He didn't doubt Drust would have Maggie in his arms in an instant and, without a single glance back, Edimér leapt for Ruby's back. Wrapping his arms tightly around her great neck, he dug the heels of his boots into her sides as he never had before, stampeding heedless through the crowd back to the waiting caravan, the face of his precious Fae foremost in his mind's eye.

After he guided the dear innkeeper to his friend, Navid took an extra moment to jump up and snatch his axes before he sprinted over to the horses. As he leapt into the saddle his amber eyes pierced through the haze to someone who looked familiar to him. But only in the vaguest, frightening sense like looking at someone you knew who stretched chicken flesh across their face. Sure they look like they always do only a little more disturbing. In retrospect he should have made a pot of tea before the raid.

Along The Darkest Road

Navid, who had only resumed his pleasant rest an hour ago, heard the commotion and startled awake. It took seconds for him to realize he must have frightened Miss Myra when he bolted upright so quickly, but for the moment his concern was too focused on the noises outside the wagon. Regretfully he made no move to act beyond staring out the window as if to assess the situation – doing his best to pretend this was normal.

But as his eyes scanned the sky he realized an all too familiar kind of storm brewed and boiled in the not too distance fairgrounds. It was then he suddenly stood up and immediately hissed while his still bandaged feet painfully proclaimed their dislike of his deliberate disregard for their injuries. Admittedly he probably would have fallen back to the bed had Myra not been there to lend a gentle hand.

“I am well, thank you.” He replied with a painful smile while he weighed out his options and carefully considered her situation. Navid knew something was wrong and he might just be needed to help. However in his current state he was also next to useless. He could ask Myra for help, but he also did not want to take her into the storm for fear the trauma it might cause her barely healed soul. But he could think of no other options but to take the poor dear with him.

“Please trust me we need to go out there soon,” he said as he took her hand quickly and then released it as he tiptoed cautiously toward his bags. “I need to make a small thing first, but I want you to pack any pouches I give to you.”

After he handed her an empty bag he began to pass different herb pouches to her, all of them vastly different shapes, sizes, colors, and fabrics. Some were closed with cords, others were tied with simple string, not a few ringed quietly as vials clanked against one another, and then there were the four closed with silver pins. Between the trades he would sometimes pause, open a pouch and remove an herb which he then set between them. The last thing he did was remove one of the silver pins from one of the other pouches he possessed and set that with the tiny pile.

“Pack anything else you think I might need.” Then he looked up at her and with a smile he added, “I think you might be better at finding anything I missed, signorina.”

His eyes fell to the pile then, quick hands beginning to work their own magic. A simple spell he concocted when he met a group of Travelers in his youth. Even now he hummed out his own instructions to himself as he crafted the little trinket.

“Give the black threaded star,” he wrapped an anise seed in black thread before picking up a three sprigs of angelica, “To a bright trio of angels.” Then he picked up a picked up a group of lilac flowers and an orange cord.

Navid’s hands went to work to tie the sets together to the silver pin while he continued his little spell. “Gift the trio royal flowers, wrapped in sunny cord. Tie them to a shining pin, one crafted from the Moon’s metal.” Then he carefully snatched a piece of cloth near Myra’s collar and pinned the little collection to her clothes. “Place these sisters on your chest, and you will be safe from the rest.”

After he exhaled deeply he smiled at Myra, and held his hands up in mock defense before she could speak. “Before you say a word, I have run too low on orange cord to craft another for myself. But so long as one of us is protected and strong, then we can all are saved from doubt.”

As he began to make his way out ever so slowly and carefully, he talked while he walked as if to distract himself from his trembling footsteps. “Each color has a meaning, each plant as well. The black thread would normally apply to spells involving the dead, but wrapped around a seed it sows new and humble beginnings. The orange cord is encouragement, wrapped about the lilacs it gives the angels even more strength to ward off evil spirits. I am now hoping that perhaps-!”

Just as he was about to mount the horse Edimér had left behind, Navid gasped rather dramatically as the hound – Jasper, he reminded himself - bounded toward Myra and his miserable self. “No! Stop! None of that. To your master. I know. Go back and we will be right behind.”

He offered his hand to Myra once he was seated in the saddle. When he thought she made a move to hand him his satchel he flashed a mildly amused smile of gentle admonishment. Once her hand was in his, he hauled her up and into the saddle. As he snapped the reins he said with a weak and nervous laugh, “You know I have never had an assistant before, although I could get used to it.” He was a little scared right now but Jasper proved quite easily that Navid was needed at least by Edimér if no one else.

When they arrived in front of the ring of Travelers, he let Myra slide down first, before carefully following her to the ground – although his drop was followed by a shudder and muffled grunt. With a quick inhale and a light laugh at the pain, he began to hurriedly tiptoe to the only one on the ground. He beckoned Myra closer as he got near the daughter and father.

Amber eyes scanned the man from head to toe as he began to pull out vials from his pack with a nod to Myra as he opened it. While he began to mix his ingrediants he asked questions, “Was your father attacked? What was he doing before that moment? Did he clutch his chest? How long as he been like this? Can you keep him awake?” To each question, save the last, he adjusted his mixture accordingly. Willow salt, finely crushed parsley, two juniper berries, the last of his dragon’s blood, and a half vial of lavender honey was mixed together until it was a loose paste until it became the color of amaranth petals.

At the moment Navid was unsure at this moment if it was age alone that had caused the Traveler’s leader to fall but took no chances. If it was natural, then the earth would need to wait to stake her claim. If it was the magic of imps then this should dispel it at once. But with Chavi’s encouragement – because Navid could swear on his ancestors – nothing could force a nearly dying man to move except the voice of a beloved daughter. “Please stay with us Master Traveler. I know this is a bitter spice but it strengthens the heart and soul.” Small spoonfuls of gooey medicine was the best he could prescribe. If something else was wrong there were other methods but their chance of saving a man were too insignificant to count on.