Michellin

Wanderers

Elva looked at Lyta, amused at her reaction at everything, from finding out that Ysaryn was an elf, to the wide-eyed shock on her face when Ysaryn pointed out that she was a Wyvern. It was always entertaining to see how other people reacted to an encounter with the kind of otherworldliness that had now become everyday business for Kire and her family. She waited for the three to disappear, then turned her attention back to Lyta. “A Wyvern, yes, as the lady pointed out,” she said, pulling up a chair to sit by the bed, though not too close, not wanting Lyta to feel crowded. “But if it helps you ease your mind, I am simply your healer right now. Just as that awkward cousin of mine has Wyvern blood, but if he makes you uncomfortable, you are free to smack him upside the head. If you would rather not, I can do that for you.” She grinned cheekily.

Soup was brought in, and Elva had the attendant set it down on the bedside table. “Ysaryn said this magic of yours responds to your fear. ” Elva began, though she seemed to be thinking out loud more than to Lyta. After a thoughtful silence, Elva looked at Lyta again. “Healing is a difficult, tricky business, especially when you need to heal both your body and mind. You have been through much. But I will ask you, as I always ask the patients who come through that door and stay under my roof, that you will do your best to want to heal.” Elva tapped her temple as she spoke. “Mind and body are one in that regard. It is harder to believe that you will get better, and if you don’t put faith in that, it will be doubly difficult for us to help you.” Elva shrugged a shoulder, then gestured at the soup. “Now, do help yourself. They make good soup here in the North, will warm you right up. First step to feeling at ease is a happy belly, after all,” she added with a chuckle.

--

When Kire had returned to camp, Gavin was shaking and pale, slumped against the walls of the town, while Myka did her best to rope the camp into order. “Was it me?” he asked the moment he saw her. “Was it because I let go?”
“Gavin, no,” Kire frowned, concern in her expression as she crouched down beside him. “Look. The way I see it, the goddess was going to find a way to take him. But at least it looks like her power is confined to the forest and to the people in camp. With the wards you had worked on, so far things are contained.”

Gavin pursed his lips, bowing his head. “I should be back there. I should be helping Ruli look for him.”
“I won’t lose you, too,” Kire said firmly. “I need you here. Is there a way to maybe find him? Tracking spell? Anything like that?”
Gavin rubbed his face. “Maybe. Yeah. There might be. But I need Ruli’s help. Daryll, too.” She could tell his confidence was shaken to the core by this; even if he would have been certain with his answer, now he would second-guess his every move.
“It’s not your fault,” she pressed, a hand on his shoulder before perking up, sensing Ysaryn’s return nearby.

“There seems to be more people in camp,” Narda said, jerking her thumb at the tents.
Kire nodded. “We have an urgent situation in our hands. Envy is missing.”
Narda’s eyes widened. Kire gave an account of what happened: Gavin seeing a vision, Envy disappearing, the remaining townsfolk that had appeared, wielding fire in a trance. The giantess growled. “Well? Are you going to let them worship this mad god?”
Kire pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told them I need time to give them an answer. Till then, they are confined to the warded camp.”
“And Ruli?”
“Ruli refuses to leave.” Kire sighed. “I’m going back there later to check on him and to make another search.”
“Sounds to me like this goddess is holding him ransom,” Narda said. “If she wanted him dead, she would have made an example of him.”
“Exactly my thinking,” Kire said. “But there’s so much about this goddess I don’t know yet. I don’t know why Envy. If this is Solaralai, I’d have thought she hated elves.” Kire rubbed her nape, glancing at Gavin, who had flinched at her last statement, the young mage still wracked by guilt. She looked at Daryll. “What happened to your search?”

“We found her,” he replied. He looked torn now. Kire had noticed the excitement on his face when they appeared and had expected good news from him, but after Kire’s news, it seemed the scholar didn’t know what to feel now. “Kire, she has magic. She can move objects with her mind, but it depends on her emotional state. And something else, too. Something, or someone, is blanketing her whole town with sleep. We are—were planning to go back there to investigate it again. But…” He glanced at the camp.
“Gods. More,” Kire muttered.

Wanderers

Elva had a smile on her face, though her gaze watched Lyta carefully. Now and then she and Nada would speak in hushed Taakalon, while Daryll, after the talking-to Narda had given him, decided to stay some paces away, trying to curb his excitement. It was clear the poor girl had gone through a lot, and that she would be fearful of new situations. The healers, thankfully, had seen similar cases, and Elva especially was no stranger to difficult patients. She did listen curiously as Ysaryn got Lyta to be more cooperative by telling her own story. Narda, too, listened, though she had heard bits and pieces of it already from Kire before. Seeing as the elf was the most calming presence for Lyta, Elva let her soothe the woman without interruption from her, until she let the healers touch her foot.

“We’ll give you warmer clothes to wear,” Elva said when Ysaryn stepped away to join the other two. “And when you feel a bit rested, you can have some soup, settle your stomach. I trust you have not been this far North of Amria? Then you’ll have a little tour.”

“Hm? Oh,” Daryll snapped his attention back to Ysaryn. “I am curious about the town as well, but I would like to see what’s happened back at the camp with Kire first. I feel I may need to consult with the other sorcerers about the phenomenon with Lyta and the town.”
“As much as I would like to stay and reassure the young woman, I will be next to useless when it comes to her magic,” Narda said, glancing at Lyta briefly before turning back to them. “And I can’t rest easy until we’ve ascertained the source of that lethargy back in town.” Narda paused, thinking something over. “The others might be helpful with the situation, but being around the Empress of Amria and being studied by her sorcerers might overwhelm the poor thing. I wonder if, perhaps, the company of the Wenches might suit her. They might be rough and tough, but they know how to ease a battered woman out of her shell, having been in similar situations before. What do you think?” she said, asking Ysaryn.

Wanderers

Daryll was too oblivious to the insinuations Ysaryn had about his fascination with Lyta, though Narda similarly caught on to the elf, holding onto Daryll before he could take Lyta’s hand before Shadow-walking. The cold of the shadows was replaced by the warmth of the hearth in the Great Hall when they emerged. Daryll was about to explain to Lyta where they were when Narda held him firmly by the shoulder and steered him away so they could look for Elva.

“Now look here, Dar,” the giantess said sternly, “did you see how utterly frightened that poor woman was?”
“I have eyes, Nard,” Daryll said with a frown. “Wasn’t that why we took her away and have Elva look her over?”
Narda turned him so he faced her properly. “You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you look at someone like they’re a guinea pig, or one of your little experiments in the alchemy chamber. You sometimes wear that face around Kire’s friends. I know you get carried away, and it’s a good thing, that brain of yours. But Lyta does not need that. People are not your alchemy rats. Did you understand that she was almost sold into slavery or some brothel back there?”
“I—” Daryll opened and closed his mouth, but stayed silent. Narda grunted, then gave him two strong pats on the back.
“Which reminds me, I will have to straighten out that mayor and the whole town,” Narda grumbled, as she let Daryll go. “Be more mindful of others, Dar. I know you get too in your head a lot of the time, but that will get you in trouble if you don’t pay attention.”
“Duly noted,” Daryll said, feeling foolish now.

“What’s all this noise then?” Elva called out. “Oh! Well. It was about time I had a visit!” The healer put her hands on her hips. “Out with it. What do you need?”
Narda and Daryll explained the situation as best they could, and Elva frowned in thought. “There have been…reports. From all over. Something peculiar is happening around Amria, and this just proves it. Come on, show me this Lyta.”

Back at the Great Hall, Elva’s attendants had approached upon her instructions to welcome the newcomers. “Hello, Lyta,” Elva said, smiling, once she approached. “Come on, let’s get you settled. You can either have a bed in the infirmary or your own room. There’s plenty of beds in the infirmary for you, and after an examination and some rest, we can give you a proper room. Does that sound good. Come, come!” She spoke in Taakalon to the attendants to prepare food and warm drink for Lyta while others gently guided her to the infirmary.
“Kire will want to know about this,” Narda said to Ysaryn.

As the attendants fussed over Lyta, looking over her foot and examining her for any other injuries, Elva poured her a mug of hot chocolate. “If you’re feeling up to it, maybe you can tell us a little more about yourself. Narda and Daryll here tell me you are from a noble family. The Glenn house? Though I admittedly know frightfully little about that lineage.”

Wanderers

Narda looked at the thing Lyta brought with her, trying to guess what it was. It looked like one of those toys peasant children cobbled together. Whatever it was, it must have some sentimental value to the young woman, and so, too, did this house, no matter how squalid it looked or how ill-treated she was under its roof. Ysaryn lashed out at the mother, saying what Narda had been wanting to shout at them from the moment the mother and stepfather opened their mouths.

Daryll ignored the fact that she didn’t take his handkerchief, picking it up and stuffing it back into his pocket. “Don’t worry about the Empress. She’s tougher than she looks—er, well, actually, she might be exactly as tough as she looks. You’ll see what I mean,” the scholar said, beaming at her in the hope that this helped put her at ease. “I do have to ask, though, and I know you probably don’t have all the answers, but did this ability to move objects around come at the same time as the sleepiness around the town? I noticed we don’t feel it as much around this house, but Narda and I feel it strongly outside.”

“Speaking of which, look,” Narda said, gesturing out the broken windows. From that vantage point, everyone who was outside seemed to have fallen asleep on their feet. Some were slumped against walls, posts, crates, others looked to have crumpled mid-step. “What in the gods…?”
“Hmm.” Daryll looked out the window, then at Lyta, head cocked in curiosity. “I don’t know. Even if Lyta doesn’t know how to control things, putting people to sleep and sending objects flying about seem to be two very different things.”

Narda strode out the room, elbowed her way past the husband and wife, who were still grumbling at Ysaryn. “Oy, mayor!” she called out, but the man had already left them, along with his guards. The giantess growled. Now that she was closer to the door and the farthest from the room, she could feel that sleepiness tugging at her. “Hrmm.” She turned back to Ysaryn. “We better go. But something is not right here. If the town goes back to normal after we have removed Lyta, then that would answer our questions about this lethargy. But if the sleepiness persists, Lyta is not the problem.”

Wanderers

Narda watched as Ysaryn demonstrated her magic in front of Lyta, hoping that this would get the girl to see this was the best option for her. This was always the difficult part of rescuing people, as she had seen during her time with the Wench. For those who had endured such difficult lives and circumstances, the promise of safety would sound too good to be true, the shackles in their mind harder to surmount than the physical ones. True enough, Lyta asked about going home, and Narda sighed. Myka would be good at this. Or Kire, to some extent.

Daryll, too, furrowed his brow, not understanding how Lyta would rather she stayed here. Then he flinched when she cried out, the hand with the cloth wavering when she moved. “We wouldn’t. I promise,” he said, something in his heart breaking at the sight of her. Had it been him who woke up one day with a strange ability to move things around him, he would have been both fearful and ecstatic. But Lyta, she had never had anyone else try to help her, from the looks of it. Everyone around her, save her mother, seemed to just want to be rid of her. “You can go anywhere, and nobody will stop you—”
“Daryll,” Narda warned, not particularly keen on letting Daryll make rash promises.
“—so long as you also promise you would let us help you,” Daryll finished. He set the handkerchief down in front of Lyta, then withdrew one step behind, watching her. “There are strange things happening in other places in Amria right now, and we are doing our best to get to the bottom of it. But you are not being taken prisoner. We are going to figure things out together.”

--

Kire took the Ring, trying not to look too relieved at having it back on her finger. She looked sidelong at him, the despair so apparent in his face, in his voice that it made her own heart ache, too. She wished she could swear to him she would get Envy back, but it would be an empty promise until she could figure out her next step. She wasn’t sure if leaving Ruli here was the wisest thing to do, yet as much as she wanted to stay here by his side, her own people were waiting back at the camp. “I’m not abandoning him either. If she really wanted to harm him or kill him, she’d have already done it. Making him disappear like this, though—this is something else. The goddess wants something. I may not read minds, but this I’m sure about.” The vision of the golden sands and the falling star, the dragon and the goddess, flickered in her mind. “I need to go back, but I’ll come back here and check again.”

Wanderers

I’m not safe for you. Narda raised her brows and looked at Daryll. ‘Interesting’, the scholar mouthed. Was her situation similar to that of the camp of potential fire-wielders of the forest-town? Though given the mother’s bruise, perhaps it was something else. The mayor’s description of ‘queer’ now made more sense, though whether or not his accompanying accusation about her being the source of the sleepiness was another matter. They kept silent, watchful as Ysaryn attempted to coax the woman out of her seclusion, with Narda grunting in agreement at the elf’s assertion that nothing about the woman would frighten them. They weren’t being attacked yet, so Narda assumed that whatever the girl was capable of, she only unleashed it as a means to defend herself. If she knew how to control it. Judging by her behavior, she did not.

The Amrians looked around at Lyta’s room, wondering if the mess was her doing. While Narda looked with pity at Lyta, concerned at all the blood from her injured foot and from the state of her, Daryll only gaped in wonder for a few moments. It’s her. Like seeing something step straight out of a dream. “It’s you…” he murmured, stepping forward even as Ysaryn did—and almost got himself turned into a pincushion for the glass shards. Narda had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him back as she shielded herself with her other arm.
“You both alright?” Narda asked, brushing the shards from her cloak. She turned to Lyta. “You have nothing to apologize for. But if you keep yourself cooped up in here, you won’t learn to control—whatever that is. You’ll keep apologizing your whole life. Which,” she added, gesturing around her, “doesn’t seem to be much, as it stands.”
“That is magic. It can be a wonderful thing,” Daryll said. “I—think we were sent here to get you for a reason. I don’t put stock in fate or gods or the like, but know that we’ll be your best chance. This isn’t a punishment, we promise.”

Narda extended a hand. “Come with us. Like Ysaryn said, we’ve faced many great threats.” She grinned. “And if you come, you’ll meet the Empress herself.”
Daryll still stared at her, fascinated. He wanted to ask her if she had seen him before, if there was some sign of familiarity. But she was clearly not yet in the proper state to be interrogated about visions and prophecies. So instead he took a couple of careful steps forward, hands raised. He fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and extended it to her.

--

Kire watched as the strange scene unfolded before her eyes. The dragon, the light, and the gate. Always these three. It seemed to her then that she was caught between two gods, and as she saw the earth that cradled the falling star turn to sand, fear settled in her heart. She coughed at the hot, scorched air that filled her lungs, sinking onto her knees until the vision faded completely. She dug her fingers into the soil, breathed in the smells of the forest. And no sign of Envy. This….what was she to do with this? At least even in exile, her mission was clear: defeat Ikegai, regain her honor by taking the throne back. In all her other struggles, the goal was solid and sharp in her mind, and the sword of her Will knew what to do, where to cut. But this? “I don’t know what to do,” she said in a whisper, and hearing herself say it out loud deepened that fear in her heart.

Standing up again, Kire looked around her, hoping for some other sign, some other voice, anything that would help point the way forward. But she knew there wouldn’t be any. She rubbed her Ringless finger again, the absence of the jewel reflecting the uncertainty that weighed heavily on her mind. Now she had to walk out of the forest, to Ruli who had lost his foster father, and to her own people, now seemingly beholden to some unknown, omnipotent presence. She may have the crown again, but it felt more useless than ever. But she was Empress. And, whether she felt it in her heart or not, Kire had to go back out there and show them she knew what she was doing.

“I don’t know what you want,” she said, looking ahead of her. “Help me understand. You speak to my people now. And I am loyal to my people. I want what is best for them, and—and if this is what you want as well, then help me see it. But I need my friend back.” She frowned, the next word sitting heavy on her tongue. “Please. What do I need to do in exchange? Show me.” She let the silence hang in the air for a few moments before she sighed and turned around, feeling very much like a dog retreating with its tail between its legs. As stubborn as Kire was, she knew there was no other recourse, for now.

When she stepped outside, she still wore a frown on her face. She looked at Ruli, debating between words of comfort or being Empress now. She glanced at the villagers, then back at him. Just say it. Comfort could wait; what he needs, what they all need, were actions. “I can’t trace him,” she said. “But I’m not giving up.” She turned to the villagers. “She speaks to you, doesn’t she? Is she—” she gestured vaguely behind her, at the forest, “—is she asking you to worship her? Is she your patron god now?”

The villagers looked at each other. The man who had spoken up earlier said, “We—we’re not sure. But. We wish to understand, Your Grace. And for that, we wish only for the freedom to commune with her, to see why she bestowed these gifts to us. Right now, she wishes that the forest be treated as holy ground.”

Kire looked at the forest again, and then at Ruli. “If I do that, will we have our friend back?” she asked them.
“I truly don’t know, Your Grace. But if this is what you have thought of in your heart, then maybe She is speaking to you, too. I—we know it is a lot to ask, especially for lowly people like myself, to an Empress like you.” He placed his hand over his heart. “We feel she will keep your friend safe. We can’t explain it but—we have faith.”
“Faith.” Kire tried not to scoff aloud at the word. She took a deep breath. “Give me time to think about it. I need to confer with my—I need to think it over. But you would have to come with me, and stay in the camp with your other fellow villagers until you have my answer. So much as a spark is lit in attack, however, and you will be cut down, no questions,” she said. The villagers nodded.

Gavin had returned with Myka and reinforcements, and after Kire explained the conditions, the villagers were escorted back to the camp. Kire remained at the edge of forest. Once she was alone with Ruli, she turned to him, swallowing the urge to reach out and hold him. “I’m sorry.”

Wanderers

Narda glared at the mother, especially at the words she blurted out, confirming a suspicion she had been having ever since the greasy stepfather opened his mouth. Ysaryn had gone on ahead, up the stairs, which Narda was afraid wouldn’t hold her for long. But Ysaryn’s reaction was promising. She looked at Daryll who, a little more awake now, was looking eagerly ahead. She tensed when she heard Lyta object to opening the door, wondering what kind of cruelty she might have suffered under this roof for her to object to it. The elf confirmed it, and the mention of blood alarmed her.

“Lyta?” Narda called. “We are not from the Madam. We are representatives of the Empress Akire. We won’t be taking you to a brothel, and you won’t be harmed. You will be cared for, and if you need to find a new home, we can help with that.” She paused, then added. “Have you heard of The Green Wench? You’ll find other women there who have escaped lives from brothels and other bad men. They are good people, and if you want to learn to defend yourself, they would gladly help. Or you can join them, too, if you fancy riding ships and giving cruel men a piece of your mind.” She grinned.

“I saw you in a dream,” Daryll blurted out, and Narda frowned at Daryll.
“What are you doing? You might scare her.”
Daryll ignored her. “I saw you in a dream, and in it you needed help. You looked afraid.”

--

Kire tried to refrain from touching her Ringless finger as she walked into the woods. She knew leaving both her weapons behind was foolish, but she couldn’t let anything happen to Envy, nor could she just stand by without getting answers, any answers to the million questions that arose in her mind. Without the Ring she could still sense signatures, but everything else—her strength, her Portals—she had left behind. It was like that time in Lithilote, only then she didn’t have to deal with a wild goddess whose intentions were suspect. The forest was quiet. No songs, no rustling from mysterious strangers wielding flame. Gods, she wished she didn’t leave her Ring behind.

She stopped at the spot where they had last seen Envy. Though the walk hadn’t been too long, the tension made the brief journey feel like a whole hour of trudging through forest. If this was really Solaralai with all the anger and pride of a deity, perhaps there was only one form of communication with a mortal she was willing to hear.
“What do you want from me?” Kire asked, trying not to sound as demanding and as angry as she really meant. “What are you asking of me?”

Wanderers

Narda smirked when the scared little man told them that this Lyta wouldn’t leave the house. It also told her that there was definitely something suspicious about Lyta’s family. Any girl who wouldn’t follow their parents and would strike them must have some great reason, and the way this ball of grease and fear was acting, Narda had a good feeling he was a big chunk of that reason. “Come now, enough dallying, I am aging a decade as we speak,” the giantess growled, nodding to Ysaryn and half-dragging the sleepy Daryll with her through the door, leaving the fidgety mayor behind.

“May I talk to her?” Daryll asked. Oddly enough, the moment they were inside, the effects of the drowsiness had lessened. Was that what the mayor meant when he said they had some proof Lyta was behind this? “Where is her room?”

--

Kire felt the cold of the shadows as Ruli grabbed her and dragged them both out of it. Immediately she recognized their starting point. She was angry—angry that she had let this happen, that she couldn’t fight until she knew for certain what, or who, she was fighting—but her anger faltered when she saw the despair in Ruli. As hard as it was, she had to swallow her anger and think clearly. How would they get Envy back? She looked down at her sword, feeling impotent.

Behind them, she could sense the others that she had portalled out of the forest approach, all of them wary. She crouched beside Ruli, hand on his shoulder. “I sent Gavin back to the town to warn Myka and get help. We’ll get him back. Is there a way to trace him with magic?”
The villagers who approached had a different look on their face, like they were waking from a dream. A few saw her and recognized her face. “Your Grace?” They looked at the burned sleeve, her singed hair, the soot on her skin. They bowed, then knelt. “Forgive us. But we were simply trying to protect Her.”
“Her?”
One of them gestured. “The forest. Life giver. The one who sings. We didn’t know it was you, we were listening to her song.”
“Do you know where our companion is?”
They looked at one another. Then one stepped forward. “We don’t, but She might. And she wishes that none of this violence would happen. Will you go listen to her? There will be no fire, if you lay down your arms.” He raised his hands, palms-up, towards her. “Please.”

Kire pursed her lips. Then, with a huff, she sheathed her sword and gave it to Ruli, her eyes still on the villagers. “I will talk to her. I can’t leave without my friend. Take me to her.”
“All your arms, Your Grace.”
“What? But I—” She stopped, then leered at them. “No.”
The people looked at each other, then talked in hushed tones. “We will remain behind. Your friend can keep watch over us. If we move or go after you, your friend and your army can do what they will with us.”
Kire pursed her lips. “Myka and reinforcements should be here soon. If I don’t come back in half an hour…” She stopped there, knowing Ruli would make sure all hell broke loose upon them if they reneged on their promise and this goddess inflicted more harm upon them. She still hesitated as she readied to twist the Ring off her finger, but after one more deep breath she removed it, placing it in Ruli’s hands. “I’ll bring him back.”
She turned to the others. “Take me to her,” she repeated.

Wanderers

Narda frowned down at the pathetic man, then glanced at the mayor. Both men seemed fidgety, and she wasn’t sure if it was for the same reason. Gods, if only she could shake the fog from her mind away. “’Specialist’?” she repeated, the word sounding inappropriate when it came from his lips.
“Y-yes, we are to—we are—” Daryll yawned, blinking through the haze of sleepiness. “Take her, yes.” The wave of sleepiness was stronger now, and Daryll found it hard to stay on his feet.
Narda grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him, even as she felt that same wave of drowsiness trying to overcome her. “Where is she? Bring her out.” She looked at Ysaryn. Only she seemed to be clear-eyed and wide awake.

--
Gavin shook. He didn’t even hear Envy’s cry, or feel the Kartaian let go. The image of the woman, and the ominous declaration, the foreboding feeling l that made his blood run cold, that was all that filled his mind then, until he felt someone grab him in retreat. Then he was yanked back into the present, with Ruli, Kire—no Envy. His eyes widened in fear and panic, and when Ruli snarled at him Gavin flinched, an old reflex telling him to make himself small and to steel himself for an inevitable blow of a fist. “I didn’t do anything!” he cried out, arms shielding his head. But instead, Ruli paced in a panic, calling for their foster father before disappearing even as Kire, too, looked like she was about to bolt in search of him.

“Gavin, what did you see?” Kire asked, her voice firm but not angry. She could see plainly enough that whatever it was that he had seen had frightened him.
“I—I saw a—” Gavin cleared his throat, forced himself to speak straight, “there was a dead woman. Looked my age. She was dead, and then she turned into—like those mages around the Tower. All crystal. And the voice—she—it? I think it’s blaming me for it. Or it feels that way. Said blood follows everytime a Wyvern and a Gemini meet.” He covered his face with his hands, as if willing away the image of the dead girl from his mind. He had never seen her before, but something about the body frozen in death struck him so hard, like his heart would shatter if he saw it again.
As sorry as she felt for the lad, Kire held his shoulder and shook him gently. “Gavin. Tel me right now. Are you in any condition to continue so we can look for Envy? Because I will return you—”

Ruli returned then, but before Kire could stop him he had sprinted off, going deeper into the forest. “Ruli! Wait—Gods-be-damned,” she hissed. “Gavin, are you coming or not?”
“Coming!” Gavin replied, frowning. If he lost Envy here, after he broke down from a vision, he wouldn’t forgive himself. The two of them ran after Ruli, Kire concentrating on his signature and on Gavin’s beside her as he ran. If Envy was within the vicinity, she should be able to feel him, unless the goddess obscured her senses again. But even as she struggled to maintain focus, something else triggered her senses.
Other signatures.
There it was, the burning. Not exactly the same as the boy’s, but each distinct signature had that flavor of bitter smoke. “Ruli! Stop!” she called, just about ready to summon a portal in front of him to force him back when she finally saw the source.
People. Villagers? “Gavin, watch your back.” Her hand on her sword hilt, Kire raised her other hand. “Stand down. We are here to look for our companion.”
“Do not trespass,” the other figure said. “Please. This is holy ground now. The others will take your friend to you.”
Holy ground?
Kire took another step forward. “Not too long ago this was a town under the Crown’s protection, my protection. We can discuss this later, but right now, I need to find my—”

The flare of a nearby signature—several of them—made her turn and draw her sword, only to be met by flame. Kire, on instinct, jerked her other arm up, pushing the person away, her dragon-strength tossing the person several meters away from her.
“Kire!” she heard Gavin shout, just as she disappeared in a blue flash, reappearing beside Gavin. The portal had put out the flames, though she could still feel the heat of it on the arm she had raised to protect herself. The lad’s eyes were on her, wide in shock.
“Warn Myka,” Kire said. Before Gavin could object, he was swallowed up by a portal. She looked around; five men and three women, their hands aflame, surrounded her.
“This is holy ground,” they said. It seemed to her then that they were looking through her, all of them having the same expression on their faces. No anger, just—blank. Until she knew what was going on with these people, Kire couldn’t fight them like this.

As the group lunged at her, the flames surging in their hands, they, too, disappeared, the other end of the portal spitting them out a ways away from the forest. Kire, too, disappeared, reappearing in a run near where she had last seen Ruli run off. “Ruli!” she yelled.

Wanderers

Narda looked about the squalid homes and frowned. It reflected badly on them as rulers that such squalor exists, limited resources or not. She looked at her companions and neither seemed overly bothered. Daryll was too focused on observing and watching for signs, and Ysaryn seemed to be doing the same, too. Ahead of them, they saw the home that was allegedly the place where these pariahs of the town lived, and her gaze shifted to the man who had revealed himself upon their approach. He struck her at once as a shady character, not unlike the slimy men she and the Wenches had had to deal with. She particularly didn’t like the look he cast at Ysaryn and Daryll. Her opinion of him did not improve upon hearing his question.

The mayor sniffed, displeased with the man’s lack of tact. “Darus, these are friends of the crown. Honored guests! They are here to, ah, investigate the matter with Lyta.”
“Oh, no,” Narda said with a grin, her hand on the handle of her battle axe, “why don’t you elaborate for us what you meant by ‘taking her’ somewhere.” Even with sleep tugging at her mind, she would make short work of any of these men by herself, should they be stupid enough to act against her.

Daryll, though, was half paying attention, his eyes moving to the door and the grimy windows. “’Lyta’? Is that your daughter’s name?” he said, looking about as if expecting the woman to pop out and introduce herself.

--

Kire smirked at Ruli’s response. As Gavin held Envy’s arm, Kire took Ruli’s and stepped closer. “First sign of danger, Walk out.” While she was prepared to do this alone, she was still grateful they had made up their minds about joining her. One ready, they stepped in. Maybe because they had spent a day here already, but Kire didn’t find the heat too unbearable this time. Or maybe the goddess had started worming her way into her mind. Hopefully it’s the former.

Gavin was quiet as he helped guide Envy. “Just tell me if you need to look,” he said to his mentor. While nothing about this forest felt familiar, it did remind him of the last time he had seen his mother. She didn’t explain herself, only said they were in danger and she had to send him away for his safety. Only, he got sent away with a brute who taught him to steal or face beatings before he got himself killed at the hands of a blood mage and his doll. His childhood was a haze. That last distinct memory had taken place in a forest like this one. And the dream…

Ahead he saw a hooded figure and stopped, grasping Envy tight. “Does everyone see that?” he asked. He squeezed his lids shut and shook his head, pinching himself with his free hand. When he opened his eyes the figure was still there, only farther away. Their back was turned to him. Illusion, or vision?
“In every thread, blood always follows you…”
Who said that? Gavin drew breath. Don’t let go.
“When the Wyvern and the Gemini cross paths, blood always follows.”
At his feet, the body of a young woman with sand-colored hair, eyes open and glassed over in death, her body twisted in a manner that betrayed her horrible fate. In a blink, her body frosted over as if covered in ice, turning into crystal.
Gavin screamed, stepped back, and let go.