Xhala

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"Illinfer..." His voice drew her in while her breath hitched. It was getting harder to breathe and she was starting to feel lightheaded. Rhoynar drew his arm away. Was she bothering him? She cursed herself. Being this useless in such a situation! How could she fail to this degree? What would Jurlath have said to this? Surely he'd have been disappointed and shocked. He'd never seen his wife like this. Of course not! With him at her side she would never have faltered!

"Is everything alright?" The voice called her, pulling her in, making her lean towards it a bit more. "You're going to faint if you don't breath, you need to take a deep breath, slowly before you collapse." She was feeling lightheaded. The warrior started quivering, her grip on her companions arm weakening as she tried to concentrate on her breathing, her lungs straining as she could only draw quick shallow breaths. Her thoughts kept spiraling and she was unable to concentrate on Rhoynar for long. As he took her hand she was startled and actually amanged to look up at him . . . through him. Tears now welled in her eyes, threatening to overflow. Her gaze was distant. She felt distant, caught in her own mind.

"You need to breath right now, or tell me precisely what's going on. Just try to focus on what I'm saying, and slow down. Everything's going to be fine. It may seem strange here but the medicine is no different, if you do need a Doctor, it will be alright. Just try to slow your breathing down." Grounding. His words, his voice, was pulling her back. Something about the soft rumble and articulation spoke to her and drew her pack from her panic enough to draw a slightly deeper breath. Illinfer couldn't focus quite yet, but her laboured breathing eased the tiniest bit, allowing her eyes to focus on Rhoynar. His lips, the movement of them as he spoke drew her gaze. "Here, drink instead, just a little at a time."

With a slight jerky shake of her head Illinfer declined the drink she was offered. "I don't understand, its just wine..." Another slightly deeper breath, clearing her head just enough to try and attempt a verbal reply. Her voice was shaky and faint as she spoke. "Not ill. . . . Jurlath" Had she mentioned the name of her dead husband to her travel companion on the ship? Was that even important now? After having spoken those little words it felt a bit easier to continue. "We wanted . . . . . Wanted to come here together . . . someday . . ." She trailed off as her breath hitched again. The pain, the realization, the loss flooding her very being. The tears she had been fighting against now freely ran over her face. She barely noticed. The hurt was starting to change to numbness. "I miss him . . ." Her voice was barely a whisper.

It was then that she realized she couldn't come back from this right now. She hadn't had much time to grieve with her responsibilities crowding her days and challenging her every single day. Now that she was so far from all that she knew her grief came crashing down, drowning her in a tidewave of emotions. She'd never have thought she'd be so still, so paralyzed. She'd always thought of herself as more of the explosive type to burst out in rage and hurt and destruction. Instead she was here, trembling, hyperventilating and clinging to the only known thing close to her. A travel companion she was only starting to get to know better and who she had sword to protect.

Finally loosening her grip enough that her touch was only a slight wait on Rhyonars' wrist she lifter her gaze to his eyes. When had they moved so close to eachother. "I'm sorry . . ." Her breath was still laboured but she seemed to be calming down - or rather starting to become numb, her head spinning as dark spots clouded her vision. "Please forgive me!" A whispered plea. She managed to hold on to consciousness, focussing on her travel companion. Would he abandon her? She wouldn't even blame him. In this state she was a liability.

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Laying her sword aside, Illinfer watched her companion. "You'll have already noticed the heat, you'll need to drink." Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the fruit wine he had brought and poured it into two shallow clay cups. She drank in small sips, letting her gaze wander to the food he had brought. Although a lot looked unfamiliar the smells were appealing. Slowly she started to pick small bites from every dish, tasting them curiously. At first the spices overpowered her senses, followed by a hesitant acceptance and finally joy. With a bit of time she thought she could get used to it.

When Rhoynar spoke again she startled. She‘d forgotten his presence, entirely entranced in her curiosity and culinary experience. With wide eyes she looked at him, slowly chewing on a green fruit coated in oil that tasted salty and slightly bitter.

"We should check the temple first, the monks there collect knowledge from far places most have never heard of. I've never seen their library but it is said to be stretching far into the sky, with walls of tomes that pass back in time beyond the Gods we know. If anyone is to know where we might find what Grey was asking of us, it's them." As he spoke her eyes were fixed on him. Having him close calmed her somewhat. She would never have imagined a journey into a foreign land would rattle her into such a frightened state. Indeed, she had seen the temple, looming, marvellous and imposing. Lost in thought she tilted her head slightly, eyes unfocused. Would she be deemed worthy to enter those halls? She‘d also noticed quite a difference between the clothes given to her by the guild and the garb those here seemed to favour. They should get the proper attire before trying to set foot into a holy place.

Illinfer barely heard the next words he spoke, but his laugh captured her, bringing her full attention back to the man in front of her. Instinct made her reach for him and grasp his wrist tightly. On the ship this had not felt real. It had not felt like the big change it was. She‘d been on ships before, even on the open sea. Never had she felt this uncertain, this lost. Not since her husband had died. The prick of loss and sadness came suddenly and threatened to overwhelm her. He‘d spoken of adventures like these, her Jurlath. Her grip grew tighter around Rhoynars wrist. „Forgive me....“ She whispered, her breath shallow as she was trying to gather herself, to not break down here in the strange place so far away from home and in the company of one she‘d sword to protect. A shudder went through her body as she quietly gasped, her lungs constricted. „... forgive... me...“ Illinfer slumped over the table, her hair spilling over her shoulders and hiding her expression, her breathing growing more laboured as the panic grew. Tears started to well in her eyes.

This was not happening. Not now. She wasn‘t alone, she couldn‘t afford this right now! Why?!

All the while the warrior was trying to gather her senses, her iron grip on Rhyonar did not loosen even when her body started to tremble.

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They talked well into the night, the wine loosening their tongues. When they fell asleep it was close to each other, lulled by the drowsiness of alcohol. The days past in a blur as they settled into a strange routine: discussing customs and language lessons over a small breakfast, sparring and exchanging different fighting styles after and long personal conversations in the evenings. One evening a few crewmen joined them in merriment. At the end of that night Illinfer hand danced the dance of swords, impressing the crewmen and captain with her controlled and swift movements. Then they all sang drunkenly, teaching each other different songs. Although Illinfer felt right at home with the crew they still kept wary of Rhoynar. His noble status discouraged some from challenging him the way they did the warrior. She however had other plans and made him dance with her - well, swaying with her, laughing, as it was well into the night.

A few days later they reached Juhad. The climate had gotten warmer, making them change into more appropriate clothing, preparing to leave the ship. Illinfer stood at deck, Rhoynar beside her, both staring at the huge city coming into view. As it grew closer the soft sounds of the sea were replaced with bustling liveliness and yelling. Around them the crew bustled past. Soon they said their goodbyes and left the ship to step foot into the next chapter of their journey.

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Illinfer stood on the pier, looking at the strange mass of people milling about. They men wore some sort of short dress, reaching to the middle of their thighs with open shoes that left their toes poking out. The women wore draped fabric, wrapping around their bodies in different manners. Awestruck the warrior stood there until Rhoynar nudged her shoulder with his and motioned her to follow. Overwhelmed by the spice filled air, the strange sounds of a foreign language surrounding her and the unfamiliar buildings she soon found herself unable to move. When he noticed the noble doubled back with a soft curse and pulled at the northern woman, grabbing her arm in an iron grip to pull her along.
He led them to a tavern just by the market, weaving in and out of the crowd. Finally he shepherded Illinfer into the small room he‘d booked for them in passing. She came from her stupor when she was pushed onto a bed. He‘d said something, hadn‘t he? „Sire.... I do not understand.“ But before she could ask any further questions he had left the room. Was he mumbling about food? Irritated, she pulled off her shoes and leaned back against the wall, legs tucked close to her body. The bed wasn‘t big so she almost occupied the entire space of it. Her thoughts drifted to their mission. A lot had happened this past week. She thought back on it.

She‘d been summoned by the guild to an audience with Lord Ilyn Grey, a council member to the King of Illium. She was to protect Rhoynar and help him retrieve a scroll of some importance to the crown. They‘d left the capital that day, happening upon an old friend of hers who woke unsettling memories. On their journey they had witnessed the Jakathra Plague, keeping a wide berth from those infected. It had made her spine crawl, thinking it was so close to the capital. They had then arrived in Astipor, at her travel companion's manor of all places. She‘d snuck out of the manor to make preparations - protection for Rhoynars family. He‘d been so afraid! And didn‘t she understand. The bargain she‘d struck could damage her reputation, but she hadn‘t cared and still didn‘t. The next day she was introduced to the people she had made those arrangements for. They were kind and knowledgeable. As thanks for her help Rhoynar had embraced her. He‘d been too close! It still made her feel uncomfortable and sent a shiver down her spine. She could still feel his fingertips lingering on her neck. Lifting her hand to her neck now, the bruises had turned a yellow and dark purple, slowly healing. Why had he touched her so intimately? Or was it perhaps just from a knight to a wounded warrior? It hadn‘t felt that way. But perhaps that had been her imagination. On their boat trip they were close throughout the days and he‘d never invaded her personal space as he had that day.
Had so much really happened in so little time? They‘d known each other for a week! It felt longer, thanks to the long conversations they‘d had on board. Thankfully he‘d taught her a few customs and some basic language. She had understood a few snippets of conversations in passing but had been too shocked and overwhelmed to actually piece anything together.

Now that she thought about it she felt a lot calmer. Nonetheless she moved with lighting speed and had her sword half drawn when the door swung open and Rhoynar appeared. With a huff she sheathed her sword. „You frighten me, sire.“ She mumbled, breathing deeply to quiet her heart. It would take a bit for her to get used to being so far from home.

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Yeah . . . so . . . working on it . . . sorry

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With a smile she took the cup from him and brought it to her lips. The sweet mead burned on her injured lip and made her flinch ever so slightly. But by Ardebit - this was just what she had needed! After her generous sip she handed the cup back to Rhoynar. They sat in silence, passing the cup between them until the last drop was emptied. Miraculously the cup was filled - by a passing sailor or Rhoynar stood up to refill the cup.
The sun set, colouring the sea into a deep dark orange before sinking into the waves and vanishing from sight. The moons came up as the sky turned dark and stars appeared in the evening sky. Illinfer leaned back, a sad smile on her lips. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, thought of home, the forest, the rolling hills, the snow peaked mountains - and her son. She had left him with his grandparents in a small village, not known to many. A tear rolled down her cheek as her smile widened. In her mind her son was playing in the fields his father used to play in as a child. He was wearing his fathers helmet, swinging a stick and shouting ‘Halt! In the name of the fire guild!’. Feeling the dizziness of the drink she opened her eyes and looked up at the dark night sky. Clouds hung over it like soft translucent cloth. „It’s so peaceful out here.“ She almost whispered, the wind tickling over her neck and playing with her raven hair.

Illinfer turned to Rhoynar, looking him straight in the eye. Her body was stretched across the floor, her ankles crossed, her upper body propped on one elbow. The ark of her neck as she angled her head towards him almost glowed of her pale skin, the dark mark of her brawl the previous day still visible, like a shadow wrapping his hand around her throat. „Do you have any regrets? In life so far? I mean . . . we might not be coming back. Are you . . . are you content?“ Her eyes grew a little bigger as the words left her lips. „I sure do! I have a lot of regrets - but only one thing I would change . . .“ her voice trailed off as did her gaze, wondering off into the distance. She couldn’t leave her son without a parent! If only she had been the one to go to the mission her husband had died in. Her son would still have a father - someone much stronger than herself.

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No worries

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Bump!
@TheDookieNut I know, it's been a long time. Sorry 'bout that. Hope the post is to your liking ^^

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A slight smile played on her lips while she listened to Rhoynar. Then he suddenly stopped and for a brief moment Illinfer wanted to lean in a little closer to make sure she caught the words spoken next. The mood had changed so drastically that she felt her heart sink, her stomach clenching. She should remain calm and all would be well? The northern woman quickly bit her lip and looked out to the ocean, stifling a chuckle. Those were the words of the same man who a night before had almost killed a man who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. No, she wasn’t like that. Emotional sometimes, yes, but who could blame her.

Illinfer turned back towards Rhoynar, smiling gently. „I am sure, with your guidance, we won’t run into too much trouble.“ She paused for a moment, regarding his features. Something was bothering him. She could tell by the slicht furrow in his brows. Not daring to ask she closed her eyes and leant back against the railing. Her head tilted backward, exposing her pale neck with the bruises of the past nights fight. The wind caught her raven hair and made it dance in the sunlight. It was peaceful here and she would be damned if she didn’t enjoy it!

The day passed swiftly, the winds were with them and the sun had shone down mercilessly. Evening approached as Illinfer sat down on deck, rubbing her lips with the paste she had been given. Never would she have imagined feeling so dry and thirsty aboard a ship surrounded by nothing but water. Dinner would be ready soon. From what she gathered it would consist of bread and fish jerky. The latter she didn’t favour too much, but she knew she needed to eat to keep her strength. After all, they were just at the beginning of their journey.

She looked up as she heard Rhoynars voice. Had he settled where they were going to sleep? The captain had said something of the deck, which wasn’t a very comfortable place to sleep. Rhoynar had volunteered to clear things up and get them hammocks under deck.

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@TheDookieNut

Sorry it's taken me this long again. >.<
Hope it's to your liking

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The fruit was taken from her hand, replaced by the steady wind surrounding them. Illinfers grip on the railing tightened further, her nails biting into the wood as the ship moved in the waves. To distract herself from the moving horizon she settled her eyes on Rhoynars hands, watched as he peeled the fruit and listened to his story. A smile appeared on her face, soon replaced by the empty gaze of memory. It sounded so familiar, a boy tricking his parents into thinking something had happened when it was nothing more than a prank. She took the fruit from his hand, looking at the vibrant colour. The juice of the Rakt Phal stained her lips as she ate, giving her features a different look.

"Tell me more about yourself, Illinfer. You've spent your journey learning about myself. I know very little about you." A little surprised she took a step back, feeling the railing in her side. „That isn‘t true. You know the most important things about me. That I am in the fire guild and that I am a widow. Things not everybody knows . . . My life was moved. I lost my mother when I was still very young. I have a brother, but only Ardebit knows where he is now. He‘s always been one to wander.“ Her gaze drifted out towards the open water. She bit her lip. He had revealed a secret, the fear for his family. Was it now her turn to repay that trust? Would she dare tell him what was waiting for her upon her return? Her thoughts played in her features, the inner talk about the fine line between responsibility, loyalty and trust.

With her back turned towards the happenings upon the vessel she didn‘t see the man approach. „There is one thing I might . . . „ The foreign words made her jolt and spin around, hand upon the hilt of her sword. She quickly loosened up and smiled at the new arrival, likewise extending her hand in greeting. Had Rhoynar heard her? She didn‘t know if she could muster the courage to speak about her home later on, unprompted.
The captain and Rhoynar exchanged a flow of words she didn‘t understand before changing back to the traders tongue. The northern woman answered the questions towards her politely but without giving away any real information. When she could finally retreat from the discussion politely she did, turning her attention to the ocean. She got pulled into the view of the water rushing by.

At some point she felt someone leaning against the railing next to her. She looked up to find Rhoynar and smiled shyly, her lips still red from the fruit he had given her. „I had no idea the ocean was so huge!“ Illinfer had relaxed a little, her mind distracted from the moving floor and engaged with fairy tales, legends and the journey ahead. „Have you been to the Second East often? How is it? Tell me.“