Adrastos – 19th Harvestwatch 1383 AS
Wolvsbane, Trifectorate Confederacy
168 Days until Cloudbreaker's wrath
"The gods gave us this beautiful, broken world and then left us to bleed in it. Don't wait for their help."
- The Cynic's Proverb
My world, in the moments before a journey, always shrinks. It narrows to what my hands can control.
First, my potions. I wrapped each small glass vial in soft, worn leather. I had a slow, practiced method that was less about protecting the glass and more about the ritual itself. It was my way of imposing order before facing the world that accepted none.
My gear, what little I had, was already laid out on the floorboards. It wasn't nearly as dangerous as Qapla's, Knox's, or Velyan's and it wasn't as flashy as Annalise's . It was just an arsenal of mending. Shears with clean edges, my ashwood mortar, fresh bandages, and the peppery resinous scent of dried herbs.
Light streamed in through the open window in my room, warming the leaves of the small herbs I had planted around the space . A cool breeze followed it, carrying the city with it.
It smelled of the damp stone from last night, the smoke of cooking fires, and the faint metallic tang of a forge. Despite having faced death last night. The city was coming back to life, slowly, but surely.
The group had agreed to meet at the eastern city gate at noon, when the sun was at its highest. If anyone did not show, then no hard feelings would be held under the assumption that they left.
So, I came back to my room and began packing my bag for the coming journey. Although Helena had gifted us a teleportation archway, I knew they were too sensitive not to prepare for the worst .
If we weren't careful with it, or we lost even one stone, the arch wouldn't function. They were highly used in the United Tribes, but were a protected practice. The fact that Helena had one meant she either stole it or was given it by someone powerful.
I carefully folde d another set of robes. I didn't know how long it would be before we got back to a civilized space. I buckled up the side pouch as a knock echoed off the door.
I turned to see Nox standing there. She was outcast, just as I was. Dark midnight skin, beautiful curling horns, blazing red hair, a long slender black tail with an arrowed barb at the end. All signs of a stranger in a strange land.
She stood in the darkened doorway, looking at me with orange, cat like eyes. Who knew hell was so beautiful.
"So." Nox said, looking down at my bag and back up to me. "Are those bags to come with us or to flee back home."
"My home is here. In Duskmere." I said, "Is it not yours?"
Nox let out a short, harsh breath that might have been a laugh. "Home is a strong word. This is at least a place that hasn't tried to kill me… yet, when I'm not in the sewers at least." She met my gaze, her own sharp as obsidian. "This guild is just a roof for now. You and I… we're just… tolerated. You, because you're useful. Me… well the jury's still out ."
I paused, my hands still on a leather strap. "Is that what you believe? That you are only tolerated?" I finished the knot and turned to face her fully.
"I defended you this morning not because you are 'useful', Nox. I did it because it was the truth. Yaelin is the Dawn Bringer; she illuminates what is. Qapla confided in me what you did in the sewer. I saw you run up the wall. Your heritage cannot change, just like mine. But the sum of your actions speak far louder than any way you may look."
She looked away, her tail giving a single, sharp twitch. She seemed… uncomfortable.
"You shouldn't have defended me," she muttered, "You don't owe me anything."
"And I did not do it as a payment," I replied, my voice quiet. "Trust isn't a currency. It is not a debt to be paid. It is a seed. It must be planted and grown with care."
"Then I must have burned that seed to a crisp then." A small, cruel smile touched her lips. "Qapla and Velyan were rightfully mad."
"Qapla is trying to build a clan." I responded. "Based on what I have seen, he was a part of one at the wall. Since that fell, he fears forming another one that will fall apart. And Velyan… she's not mad at you, simply trying to remain safe. "
"You hesitated."
I paused . "I am from the United Tribes. She is from the Holy Empire. My mother died to the imperial army. Her family was slaughtered by tribesmen.
I have no resentment towards her, because I know it wasn't her. We are a long way from home. But that doesn't mean that the ghosts of the past don't follow us."
She was quiet for a long moment. As if searching for words. Her eyes drifted off mine searching the ceiling. "Your magic…" she said at last, her voice awkward. "On the wall. It didn't hurt. It was… warm."
"Yaelin is life itself," I said, touching the silver pendant at my throat. "Healing is meant to be a comfort."
"That's not how power works." She shot back, a flash of her old, hard certainty returning. "Not where I'm from. Power is painful and comes at a price. My goddess, Vantara… she is at least honest about the cost. What is the price for your gift?"
Vantara, the sister of Yaelin and goddess of darkness, long exiled to hell. How could she have… my eyes crested Nox's form as the thought died away.
I finished packing and cinched the last strap, then peered up to meet Nox's gaze. Her eyes were filled with a genuine, burning question. She truly believed her way was the only way.
"You see seem to see your power as a chain. I see mine differently. It is my duty. Yaelin only asks for service, not for sacrifice. Yaelin is the Dawn Bringer, whom I serve. That is what I see in the morning's early light to the dusk's faint glow, she is the light itself, the purpose in which I live . You see Vantara as the Shadow Queen. A queen implies vassals, and with it chains and rules."
I picked up my satchel, the weight familiar and comforting on my shoulder.
"But the dawn does not destroy the shadow. It simply… gives it shape. It proves it was there."
I walked past her to the doorway, pausing to look back.
"My place is not to judge your shadows, Nox. It is to walk beside you, so you do not have to walk in total darkness."
I left her there, her tail still, and her expression unreadable.
Heading down the stairs, I found a scene I chose not to interrupt. Annalise was holding open a large satchel while Qapla, with a look of intense concentration, was sliding a wooden chair into it. Impossibly, the chair began to sink into the bag.
As the final leg vanished, Qapla's smile turned smug. Annalise just shook her head, looking exasperated but resigned.
I walked over to Velyan, who was already by the door, wiping down a new crossbow, one that had no strings. Soft steps from the stairs announced Nox's entrance. A sword and backpack adorned her figure, her eyes narrowing as she gazed towards the two orcs.
"We have a quarter hour to make it to the gates, lest all of you are having second thoughts."
Qapla finally cinched the bag. It was time to go.
The walk to the wall was quiet at first. The walls of the houses towering over the road seemed to loom before the blue sky above, and I could swear I could hear the shuffling of feet as I imagined eyes peeping out of the boarded up windows.
The tribe had never lived so confined as the people of Wolvsbane did. It was in nature that the gods showed their raw will, and so it was in nature that we had resided.
But on Duskmere, it seemed that life was pitted against life. The will of Balu was a dangerous one to face the raw force of. I flicked my ears at the thought. Why worship a god with such contempt for its own followers? A strange place indeed, in more ways than one.
As we walked, I fell into step beside Velyan. "That crossbow is new." I noted.
"Just got it from the blacksmith." She said, her voice low. "He heard about what I did on the wall and gave it to me for free. It can shoot two bolts at once."
"What about Nox?" I said, "I saw she got new armor, and Qapla's looks new as well."
Velyan sighed. "They combined spent most of what we had on rations and their new armor. Although, I thought the silence might be the end of me. Those two aren't talkative in the first place. Qapla's mixed feelings about her didn't make it any better."
"How are you feeling about it?"
"I'm fine." Velyan shrugged, adjusting the crossbow on her back "A bit perturbed about being chased by a literal devil and all. Are you not worried about the whole hell thing?"
"The world is as Yaelin shapes it to be." I responded. "If hell opened, maybe it is for a reason. Maybe it is Yaelin offering the hellborn a chance at redemption. Out from hardship and into the light."
Velyan looked at me hard, scanning me up and down. "How come you trust so much in a god? Especially the primary god of the Holy Empire."
"My mother was a priest during the war."
Velyan's step faltered for just a second. "For which side? Was she a slave for the Holy Empire?"
"No." I responded, I could never imagine my mother being even captured. "She was a priest of the Tribesman. Different than your quiet priests, she was prideful and fiery in her faith."
"How did the other… tribesmen… like that?"
"Do you let the words of others determine your goals and beliefs?"
"No."
"Neither did she." I said, a brief image of her tall figure flashing in my mind, "No matter how much hatred the others had for Imperial gods, my mother never once faltered in her faith."
Velyan was quiet for several paces. "She sounds like an interesting person."
"She was everything and more." I responded softly.