Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Arcana Transcendant (runawayninja x RetroWitchcraft)

While she longed to push on through the dark forest, she was not inclined to continue on. The deeper they went, the more the moon was covered by the thick canopy of the taiga, and the less she could see. Even with her vision there still needed to be a fragment of light. Not only was there that but she was also exhausted and did feel lightheaded.

"I do not care to admit this but I must," she started. "I think it would be best to stop for the night. My magic is weak right now, just as my body is, and it has been nearly three nights since I've had a good rest."
 
He nodded slowly, looking at her as he looked around and found a comfortable place to sit. Rafe looked at her and looked down. "I admit, I've got selfish motivations, but if it makes you feel any better...I really do want to save you from a bad fate. There's something in you worth saving, that's true for everyone." He wondered if his words reached her. He sighed a bit. "You probably don't want to hear my preaching, I know if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't. But...you have suffered. I just don't want that suffering to be the end of you. I'll help you find out what happened and I'll try to see that justice is done. It's my place. It's my sworn duty to prevent needless death." He looked at her, but once again, it seemed as if his eyes saw more than just her. More than just the physical her. He looked her over. "My name is Rafe...Rafe, Journeyman Necromancer of the Order of Rathma. I'll be a Journeyman for a long time."
 
Was there truly something in her worth saving? Those sounded like the pretty words of a stranger that just so happened to be trained in comforting those who have no one else to comfort them. The assessment was harsh and she did not voice it, but the look on her face was plain on how she felt. It was good that it was dark and her expression likely was hidden by thick shadow.

The wind blew the treetops above them, branches scratching against each other in the chattering music the two elements together made. It was fortunate that the foliage was so thick in that part of the woods or else they'd feel the creeping chill of the blustery gusts. She sat next to him, behind a bush to make sure she was well hidden from any animals.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," she replied dryly. There was a hint of sarcasm to her tone. Was it really so nice to have met under such circumstances? Eowyn felt as if there was much to be desired here on the cold ground. "I am Eowyn Silverleaf, daughter of Lord Silverleaf of New Hope and his human bride, Miranda."
 
Rafe stared at her and nodded slowly, then began to gather some leaves and dirt to make a makeshift bed and pillow from. He yawned softly and started to lay back, settling down upon the ground. "I hope to find you much better in the morning...I'm sorry to have crossed you under such...circumstances." Rafe decided to let that be the end of it. Perhaps in the morning she might be more amiable towards him. He laid his head down and slowly closed his eyes, letting the land of sleep and dreams overtake him.
 
There was little sleep for Eowyn that evening. The cold ground offered no comfort for her, as she was accustomed to sleeping on heavily padded mattresses. She tried to do as he did, and create a bed of dirt and grass but it was somehow less comfortable that the forest floor beneath her. Finally she found a small amount of moss to curl up on. Only sheer exhaustion tore her from her thoughts in those moments before sleep claimed her.

She woke to a headache that drummed against the temple that rested on the moss. The pain was something that, if she stayed travelling with no bedroll, she would grow familiar with. Parts of her were stiff and sore and, when she sat up her head spun a little. At least the night had passed with no animals coming to claim them as the pair slept.

Pale yellow light drifted downward, tinted amber with early morning. Ah. Birds sang to each other in gentle trills. At least it was not the most unpleasant of scene to wake up to. While it seemed that she was not thrilled with her present company, something about him brought her out of that stupor that death of her parents had caused. Perhaps the reason was because he had the power to speak with them. That caused some calm to entrap her soul.

Not waiting for him to rise, she stood herself and stretched, wincing at the pain. She flexed her palms to get blood circulating through her fingers again. Hopefully there was a spring nearby where she could wash her face. The gods knew she had not done so in three days and she probably looked dreadful.

Meandering away, she listened for the sound of water that would bring her to a stream. Her cloak had been left at their campsite to tell the necromancer that she intended to come back. It was made of expensive, silver velvet. There was no way any one would leave such a thing behind.
 
When Eowyn returned, there was a gamey smell coming from the area. Rafe had built a small fire and was cooking a pair of rabbits speared over it, turning them slowly. He looked at her as she came closer. The skins were laid out near the fire. "I'm drying the skins because they can be sold for some pocket change, that'll probably pay for an inn." He looked down at the rabbits he was cooking and smiled a bit. "You hungry?" The smell was certainly appetizing to someone that was hungry, but it was probably more wild and gamey than she was used to.

"So I have a question. You're a noble. You've got power. Why not engage your enemies from there? Why not use your resources to see justice done, why do you have to go out and do this personally?"
 
She came back with her bluish black hair plaited and pushed away from her face. Catching a glimpse of herself in the reflection showed her that her appearance was worse off than she had initially thought. Though she had never dressed her hair on her own, she fancied she did an alright job enough with it. At least she looked moderately less crazed than before.

The scent of the game made her mouth water. Rabbit was a personal favorite of hers and, while she was more used to the fatty hare that roamed her acres upon acres of land, there was no denying the delicious smell.

"I have gold plenty," she replied. Her hand moved to the heavy purse strapped to the silvery rope that encased her slender waist. Coins had been lost, certainly, but there was still a good amount there and all gold pieces or silver. "We'll have enough for, at least, a little while."

There was a pause as she considered his words carefully. "I do this because this is my vengeance and mine alone. Others have families and fellows that will mourn if they do not survive and be embittered towards me for sending a beloved out in that matter. I have no one who will weep if I die."
 
He nodded slowly as he poked at one of the rabbits and slowly continued to turn them. "I would feel badly if I simply took from these rabbits and left their skins to rot. At least if I sell them, they might find some use as a fine decoration, or lining for someone's clothing. They might continue to be in some manner." He looked at her as though she were his pupil. "You see, being alive is merely one state of being, there are many. Memory, existence, ghosts, a being can take many forms. Even a person can become an idea, like heroes and martyrs and in that way they can transcend mortality."

Then his lesson was followed by a story. "Rathma was the first Necromancer of our people, the founder of our order. He was trained personally by Trang'Oul, the World Dragon who holds in his talons the Keys of Life and Death, a symbol of balance. Once, in the Northern Wastes, Rathma encountered several splintered tribes of barbarians who existed in warfare with one another. But war so consumed their lives, that their dead remained as ghosts, fighting each other in a never ending conflict. When Rathma asked both the tribes and the ghosts what was the cause of this conflict, ancient grudges of all kinds came to voice. Theft, murder, territory, all extending beyond what the people could remember. When asked if any of them had been personally wronged by this conflict, none could say, save that they had lost their loved ones. The tribes laid down their arms and came together as one people, uniting to make their lives better and their peoples stronger. Their former loved ones now united, the ghosts simply moved on to their own paths after life." He looked at her. "What if these murderers have family? And you kill the ones at wrong here. If you give their loved ones to outlet, they'll carry that rage and hate forever and inflict it on others they meet, innocents that did no wrong."
 
Even in the foulest of moods, Eowyn could not deny his words were interesting to her. Good stories had always made her sit quietly and listen. Her mother had been a bard before settling down with her father and had always woven together the richest tales of gallantry, love, and forbearance. Although these were things that he believed to be true, she still was captivated with them. Such a simple act captivated her and made her feel much more at peace than anything else had.

His ending questions broke that moment of serene remembrance and rage flitted on to her fine features.

"No one thought of who my parents may have left behind," she replied coldly and she protectively crossed her arms over her chest like a willful child might. Such musings only lead to frustrate her and make her double think her actions. "There is no other way. You, who have never been through such a thing, may never understand. It is easy to be pious when all you have known is what you've been taught."
 
He sighed a bit and offered her one of the cooked rabbits. "Yes, what would I know, I've only spent most of my life in education, training to be a philosopher, historian, diplomat, and a mage, not withstanding one who speaks to the vast and learned ranks of the dead who have lifetimes of information to share." He shrugged and redoubled his efforts not to let her attitude get under his skin as he started to bite into the rabbit meat. It was a little gamey for his taste, but it would suffice. He hadn't eaten more shabbily prepared food than he would've liked, but it was free.

"Listen, I'm not your enemy. I'm just trying to draw you towards a path I see as better. Were are roles reversed, would you do any less?"
 
Was it ever the occupation of the religious to push their views on others? Eowyn had never been a person easily swayed by the beliefs of those overly zealous about faith. On that morning, as he explained why he knew better than herself, it was particularly grating. Whenever the rabbit was handed towards her and she grabbed it, digging her teeth into the gamey flesh. That did not bother her any bit. It had been so long since she allowed herself anything to eat and she was famished.

The meager wild rabbit was gone within a minute.

"I do not know if I would try to belittle a young woman's mourning by saying her feelings are wrong," she added in remark. "Whenever you have finished, we should start moving agian."
 
Rafe destroyed the signs that someone camped here and he continued on towards their destination, mostly in silence. He continued towards New Hope until about midday when the walls of the city were in sight. "Here we are, New Hope." He looked at her. "So, do you know where we are going?" The way it seemed to Rafe, after this, they might part ways. She didn't seem to like him very much and she didn't seem to want his kind of help.
 
They had already spent quite a time resting and Eowyn was eager to make some headway with her quest. Not only that but being in the city where her parents were killed had, tragically, given her a strange sort of strength. That was home and home was where one gained strength. The half elf took in a deep breath.

"The sooner the better," she replied with a fragmented response. "I mean, if I were a spirit I wouldn't want to stick around the place I was killed. It'll probably be easier for you if we don't wait any longer."
 
Rafe looked around as they went, watching the hustle and bustle of the city at morning. New Hope was a large and cosmopolitan city, one that might be more open and accepting of a mage of his sort. Once they were inside, he was content to let her take the lead and follow her. "You'd be surprised. The spirit world is multifaceted and there are all kinds of spirits that can be left behind. Some are just phantasms, echos of past events left by trauma or powerful emotion. Some are the actual life force of a person that either refuses to leave or doesn't know that they're dead. And the dead sometimes don't think like us. Sometimes they stay around the area of their death, hoping to catch the person that did it to them or just for someone to notice them. Being in the spirit world, especially if you don't have a strong will or a strong sense of self, can warp and alter your perception of place and time." Rafe decided not to tell her that he could see spirits of the dead as they walked in the city.
 
Eowyn was not for superstition but, still, talk of communicating with the dead and what happened with spirits made her a little queasy. Imagining her mother and father 'moving on' was much better than thinking their haunts still roamed the section of the keep where they had been killed. She blinked away tears. No reason to get emotional! Three days she had spent in a horrible state of mourning and she did not intend to go back to that miserable haze. This was a time for action, not tears. She took in a deep breath and steadied herself.

As they walked through the town, the folk there turned to look at her, appearing to either be worried or intensely smug about something. She ignored them. Why should she care what they thought about her? Likely the arrogant ones had assumed her cravenly for returning with naught but a skinny man.

The streets were sprawling and lined with beautiful cream colored stone. Most of the building faces were smoothed with tiled roofs. Only a few small cottages on the outskirts of the were made of dull gray stone and thatched roofs. Clearly the noble who was in charge of everything had done well with the siphon granted by the crown. Her father had certainly done very, very well keeping the people well taken care of.

Another slight to her was that, since she was a woman, the responsibility of keeping the town well had landed on the shoulders on another noble family. One that was not as concerned with the common folk as they were with the coin that lined their purses.

Changing the topic, she replied. "My family's home is outside of the city limits to the north." she pointed to a hill that rose right above the city. Its walls were white and gleaming in the sun. "It will take a little over two hours to get to it on foot."
 
Rafe politely ignored the people looking at them, or more precisely, at her. He was keeping an open eye as they moved through the city's open market. He found a pelt dealer and quickly sold the rabbit accessories for a fair price and pocketed the copper pieces. Not a lot of money, but enough. He looked at Eowyn with a serious face and a hushed tone. "As long as we're here, if we should find your parent's spirits...they may not respond to me. But they may talk to you. The Walk can be a dangerous ritual, but it allows for clear communication with spirits, but for it I'll need certain items. I'll need fresh well water, it helps with a person has died in the well, but it's not necessary. I'll need Nightshade berries and Mandrake root. As fresh as possible. The other things I can provide myself. But if you know where I can get the three here, that would be very helpful." Mandrake and Nightshade were known to be magical reagents and very toxic.
 
Well water of a person who had drowned inside of it? The ingredients he wanted were gruesome but there were plenty of wells that people had fallen in to and perished, though she would imagine the water would not be very fresh coming from such a source. Still there was no reason for her to question his wishes verbally. He was trying to help her and the anger she had felt previously had leaked out in nearly completely.

"We have several apothecaries and alchemist in this city," she informed her traveling companion. She pointed her finger to a corner that they were approaching. It was fortunate that they had, then, for there stood one of the better apothecaries that New Hope boasted. "That is a fine establishment and one I am sure you will be able to find many of your herbs."
 
Rafe nodded slowly and looked at her, his eyes still as serious as before. "Get the well water...here." He gave her a small waterskin. "Meet here back here when you're done and I should have everything I need..." Rafe was conflicted inside. Was he really going to help her take revenge? It wasn't to say that those that hurt her in such a way didn't deserve to die. But one couldn't be sure. Blindly hunting for revenge, such a dark motive, might make her as worthy of death. He shook his head and walked inside, meeting with the apothecary and haggling for price.
 
Eowyn did not know of any wells that had someone drowned inside of them and it was not exactly something that she felt comfortable with asking. Instead she went to the well partitioned for that block of the city: a large circular thing made of gray stone and white pitch. Picturesque moss grew between the cracks, making it look like something out of a fairytale. Before he parents had died, she might have looked for pixies dancing around inside of it or wights. Now all she did was heave the bucket up to fill her empty canteen with the water from within.

The apothecary's door was lined with drying herbs on the inside, each giving of a grassy and tangy fragrance. The store front was not large but served its purpose well and the owner had used what little area efficiently. Wide shelves housed various concoctions that were labeled with their purpose. Each seemed to be sectioned off by what type of remedy they were as well. The front desk was so old that it was stained with dust particles that had engrained themselves in the grain of the wood used. On top of the desk, pushed off to the side, were bundles of dried herbs. A middle aged woman sat behind it, a vaguely bored expression on her face. Even though she was older, she did possess a quiet sort of beauty that came with the onslaught of time.

When he entered, a bell sounded and she looked up.

"Welcome," she said with a smile.
 
Rafe entered and shut his eyes when the scent of the shop entered his senses. He took a long, slow, deep breath, breathing in the smell of the familiar and the magical. Yes, there was much magic here, something he had smelled before that reminded him of the classes at home where he learned of the potency of plants and minerals and the magic that the natural world had to offer. Potions and herbs were essential to a priest of his training and they offered ways to commune with not just the dead, but all sorts of levels of magical being. He remembered learning of the power of such simple things that the earth had to yield and these scents took him back to a time before he knew of the world, when knowledge was fresh and new and not yet dangerous.

He opened his eyes and smiled, nodding his head politely at the shopkeeper. "Good day, m'lady." Rafe took note of her beauty and acknowledged it, as one does a fine painting, but it seemed that, like with such art, little would come of it between him and her. "I'm looking for...potent herbs. I need Nightshade Berries and Mandrake Root. The fresher the better." He had received different reactions for asking about such items. Some people refused to sell to him. Some demanded some modicum of trust that he would not abuse them. Yet others still simply and maybe even cheerfully sold such things. He would have liked to have purchased more, but money wasn't something he was abundant of. Not that he took any vow to be poor like some priests, he simply didn't come by much money.
 
A suspicious glance was casted towards Rafe. The dark eyes of the proprietor turning into black slits as she looked him up and down. It was almost as if she could see into the soul with her gaze and, no doubt, anyone with magical abilities would feel this doubly so. Clearly the woman was quite trained in working the craft herself. Seemingly she was pleased with what she found for her eyes softened considerably and she bent over to retrieve the things that inquired of.

The berries were so fresh that some morning dew still clung to them. The root was heavily gnarled and shriveled in appearance but one who knew of such things would realize that was just the way mandrake root was. Mandrakes themselves were shriveled, shrieking plants.

"I do not need to tell you to be careful with these," she told him. Like all of the gentlefolk within the city limits, her voice was well refined without a trace of local dialect. "Three coppers, please. My son gathers supplies for me daily, so I do not need to charge much."
 
Rafe nodded and smiled warmly at her. "You take very special care in choosing you customers I see, that's admirable. Such things should not fall into the wrong hands. It can be difficult to acquire such things from reputable dealers, so, I hope I might be able to call upon your goods in the future, while I'm in the area." He reached into his pouch and produced seven coppers that he got for the rabbit skins and he offered them to her. "Might I ask a gentle lady's name?"
 
The woman behind the counter was a fair business woman and, so, when he produced the seven coppers, she took the three she quoted from earlier and pushed the rest back towards him. A small pouch was produced from the front of her bodice. Opening the bag she carefully placed the coins inside before returning the small bag to her cleavage.

"I am Rodmilla," she informed him. "My small shop is open for your patronage at any time. You need only stop by."

Was there a double meaning to her words? The way her eyes glinted told as such but her tone was not of a sexual or deviant nature. Clearly she wasn't interested in that. She sounded more so a watchful parent than anything.

The bell above the door rang as Eowyn walked in with the skin full of water slung casually over a shoulder. There was no point for her to reattach it to the belt that hung at her waist, not at the moment anyway. New Hope had plenty of water so she knew no one was going to steal it and, besides, even if they did another skin could be purchased or gotten from her home.

"Did you get everything you required?" she asked softly as she approached.
 
Rafe smiled and slowly took back the extra coppers. He smiled warmly at Rodmilla and bowed his hand a bit, deftly taking her hand into his and kissing it softly. "I shall have to make to return to such a kindly shopkeeper." He nodded his head again and turned back to Eowyn, pocketing the reagents into a separate pouch for his ingredients. "Yes, I think I have everything I'll need. Hopefully, nothing unforeseen will be needed." He proceeded to head towards the exit. "You'll have to lead us to the site of your parents' murder..."
 
Eowyn's fine features visibly crumpled. Yes, the half elf knew that she was going to have to go back there and she thought she was fine with it. Now, as she heard the words from his mouth, she felt suddenly stricken with some strange sort of fear. There was nothing there by now. Their bodies had been laid to rest the day she left. The blood splotch had been washed away before that. Still. The place held a dark, twisting sort of depression that wrapped itself around her even know.

"Follow me," she managed to whisper. "We should be able to reach the grounds by nightfall. My house knows me and, so, none of the servants will sound an alarm."

She tried to smile at the shop keep but only received a sympathetic sort of look. The noblewoman heaved a sigh. Sympathy wasn't what she needed but the shop keep had known her family well. The older woman was likely suffering as well. Many of the townspeople did with the death of her parents.

"Peace be with you, youngling," Rodmilla said softly.

All Eowyn could do was muster a nod before she brusquely walked from the apothecary. The bell rang loudly as she let the door slam behind her and all the middle aged woman could do was heave a sigh.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom