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Another Life (Cheshire Smirk & darkangel76)

Arzale's words resonated deeply, ringing in her ears while she drank of the water that tasted so good against her tongue, her lips. Amarylis found herself nodding yet again though she knew she'd never be the sort to purposefully cause trouble and show disrespect. Never intentionally. That just wasn't her way and never would be. It was ingrained within her blood to be there for others, to help and aid whenever possible, not to cause harm or hinder. Why start now? No. She would not. She could not.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't defend herself. If that woman tried anything again, she most certainly would bite her arm next if she had to. But only to prove her point. Nothing more. Though she had to admit, the idea of leaving another vicious mark on the woman appealed even if it meant having to suffer further blows and injuries to her person. It was rather strange that she felt such things, but then never before had anyone struck her merely for being someone who cared about others and claiming to find all things precious.

As Amarylis looked to Arzale, she felt certain that she understood what he was trying to tell her, to make her understand. A part of her suddenly wondered if he understood her. As it was, there were so many things that she didn't understand about the Sunderfang, but from where she stood, there were several that the Sunderfang didn't understand about her kind. Whether that mattered to any of them or not, she didn't know and in the darkest recesses of her mind she could hear a tiny voice telling her that those who took and those who viewed them as weak probably didn't feel it necessary to understand, but... then why did it bother her so much that they did?

Amarylis already knew the answer to that. She didn't like feeling so out of place, having other misjudge or mock the only culture and home she knew. Her life from before had been precious to her and to have others make her feel like it was something to be belittled... it didn't set well. Why was it all right for her to learn and embrace something new and not for others to return it in kind? She didn't like that and she didn't think she ever could.

Setting down her water, Amarylis looked at Arzale again. "I would only ever fight fairly and do what I felt was right. I am no warrior, but I am hardly the sort to strike someone when they are down or to do so without warning." She paused a moment. "Unlike some people." Her final words were a reference back to the pillaging of Belbarren, the poor town having been attacked without warning, the people killed who were most definitely weaker than themselves, a fair number unarmed, defenseless. What chance were they given?

Amarylis looked down at the water she held, her mind a fury of thought and swirling emotion. Her body hurt though she was now beginning to get angry, her wrath over what happened at the port town slowly seeping toward the surface. Trying to calm herself, she ran her fingers furiously through her hair, tugging on the mousy locks until she finally let out a soft sigh.

"The idea of hurting someone has never appealed to me," Amarylis then added. "Not unless you hurt me or someone I love." Her tone had become hushed, a seriousness she'd yet to display. For as quiet as she was, there was also a passion buried beneath and when unleashed she could be a force to be reckoned with.
 
"A bear does not mourn the salmon it catches on their journey up-stream."

Arzale had caught her comment on the raid on Belbarren. The warrior honestly did not understand why Amarylis kept on falling back to referencing that raid. Why was it so hard to understand that raiding was survival of the fittest? Did Amarylis find hunting immoral? What of cows that were slaughtered for meat? Where there lives not 'precious' and 'beautiful'? Or was it only humans that were exempt from the cycle of life and laws of the wild? It was a hypocrisy of the strangest sort and Arzale just could not wrap his head around it no matter how hard he tried. The sad reality was even if Amarylis did not agree with Sunderfang politics She was going to live them. Arzale was champion of the Sunderfang and first to lead the charge of every raid by tradition. Amarylis, as shield-maiden would be expected to be at his side.

As for fighting fairly: All was fair in strife and survival. Winter's frost did not only come when the tribe was ready and illnesses did not strike only the hearty and fit. The strong survived and the weak died, it was the purest form of justice. Amarylis would be relieved to learn that the Sunderfang did however take care of all of their tribe. The old and the infirm where not cast callously aside, every member of the tribe was given a chance to show their inner strength, to be of value to and help towards bettering the tribe. Even one single death weakened the Sunderfang, and so every step was taken to preserve the lives of their own when possible. Amarylis would find that the hungry were fed, the cold clothed and the sick taken care of within Vaern's walls.

Hopefully time and experience would open Amarylis' eyes to the grim reality of the world. The young girl had never seen war, had never seen the harsh truths of life until the raid on Belbarren. Arzale's eyes turned to the horizon and a small smile curved his lips; land was in sight. Even so far away Vaern's mighty walls dominated the horizon, it's silhouette casting the land around it into shadow. Arzale pointed towards the great keep and spoke.
"Home is in sight."
 
Amarylis shot a look at Arzale the moment his words left his mouth. "Yes, but... but the bear eats the salmon," she muttered before letting out a soft sigh. Again, she sipped at the water, her mind filled with too many thoughts and too many emotions, her body aching too much to wish to carry on this argument. Clearly they were going to disagree on the matter and nothing the other said was going to make the other change their mind or see things differently. It was hopeless. And she had no choice but to grit her teeth and smile, play the role as if none of that mattered. Was life trying to mock her? Test her? Was life trying to tell her that the inevitable had to happen...?

It was cruel, so unfair!

Again, Amarylis thought of the cave, of the darkness and the strangeness of time that had passed for her, but no one else...

Just then, Amarylis' thoughts were interrupted. Had Arzale mentioned 'home'? In that moment, she felt a feeling of uneasiness suddenly wash over her. She looked over and up at the warrior, his face full of happiness and light. It was that same look she'd seen come over him when he'd played the mandolin, a look of peacefulness. A pity he didn't look that way more often.

Biting down on her lip, Amarylis dared herself to look in the direction in which Arzale was pointing. She squinted her pale eyes, letting them adjust to the light as it shone over the water. Finally, she saw it. That great expanse. Almost instantly a shiver ran along her spine and there was no doubt that her body shuddered a little. Trying to hide it, she shifted a bit.

"I... I see it," Amarylis mumbled almost inaudibly. "Though you'll have to pardon me if I do not share in your reveling of that fact." Again, she looked up at Arzale, her face bruised and battered from the earlier fight with that woman, her heart filling with fear of the many more she knew she'd have to endure—ones far worse, she was certain. "I don't think it will ever be 'home' for me."

Amarylis took another sip of her water before finally setting the tankard down. Her hand went to her face. It was so tender, aching badly from that woman's blows. What she wouldn't give to see her parents right then—to see them, to hug them, to tell them just how much she loved and missed them. All of that seemed so far removed now, like a memory best forgotten, a dream of the past. The next time they saw her, if she was even fortunate enough to survive what lied ahead, they wouldn't recognize her. And in her heart, she truly believed they'd weep at the sight of her.

"Though..." Amarylis continued. "I'm glad you are finding happiness upon your return home." She looked down at her feet, her eyes blinking as she thought on her own home. "May you find the rest, peace and revelry you seek before the need to leave arises once more."
 
"There is a rough road ahead for you. Malya does not make life easy for new recruits."

The words weren't mockery or an insult. Arzale was doing his best to acknowledge the many facets of Amarylis' plight. Patience was what Amarylis needed, time to see the truth. The grim reality was that Arzale's life and standing depended upon Amarylis adapting to the Sunderfang way of life. The aggressive, near-suicidal battle tactics Arzale had honed were dependent on having a Maiden at his back. Without a Maiden Arzale was a spear with no shield. When Amaraylis mentoned her feelings of displacement a small frown curved Arzale's lips. It was rare that outsiders were assimilated into the tribe, even moreso when the outsider was not a captured warrior or hunter. Most would question Arzale's decision, wonder why he hadn't simply cast the girl into slavery. Faith guided Arzale's decision, a firm belief that Larethia's spirit would guide Amarylis to strength, honor an ferocity.

"Vaern may grow on you, if not grow around you."

Closer and closer the ship drew to Vaern, and as it did the sheer size of the keep became apparent. Eleven stories tall the keep sprawled across five square miles of land. The structure was a wonder of construction and awe-inspiring to behold. Few Southernbloods had ever seen Vaern, and even less had lived to tell of it. The land around Vaern was dedicated to the herding of Caribou, both for the purpose of transportation and food. A few hardy cultivars of cabbage and carrot were farmed in the permafrost, but farming was a profession of relatively small yield on the tundra. Cold and unforgiving, the tundra was a great place to learn the truths of life, a crucible in which even the meekest of souls was forged into a warrior.

"May you someday find beauty in strength and solace in survival."
 
Amarylis was hardly a fool. If the taste of what that woman had given her had only been a fraction of what was to come once they reached Vaern and her training finally began, then she had no doubt the road ahead would be rough. In fact, she half wondered if it would turn out to be impassable. For herself, for her own satisfaction and need to show them all, she'd try... but she felt the fear growing deeply within her bones, settling upon her core as the knot formed and twisted, making her insides roil to the point of unsettling. In some ways it made her feel queasy, like she'd get sick on the spot and lose all the water she'd just taken in to help ease her thirst.

At that, Amarylis just sighed softly. Fate was cruel as it mocked her, finding its way to weave its tangled web about her slight body. No matter how hard she'd tried in the past... apparently it was inevitable. She hadn't been meant to stay where she'd been. But what purpose did it have for her then? She could only begin to speculate. The web it was weaving was far too intricate and the one she'd run from far too delicate and now she was stuck having to face an unknown future it had chosen for her—one that was frightening her the closer she came to those great walls looming on the water's horizon.

Amarylis looked over at Arzale, her cool blue eyes narrowing just slightly though not in maliciousness, but with curiosity. "Perhaps one day we'll understand each other," she then said trying to smile, though it hurt a little to do so. With a tiny groan, she tried to stand up right, but her body ached from the earlier display she and the woman had put on for everyone to see who happened to watch. "Though, I..." She glanced at those ominous walls fast approaching in the distance and winced, fear filling her heart. "I think I need rest before we reach your city. If I'm to be at my best, I'll need it..." Her cheeks, though bruised, turned a bit pink as she admitted as to just how much pain she was in. "I apologize if this makes you look unfavorable to your people," she then added, genuinely hoping that it didn't. After what she'd experienced, she knew that actions reflected upon character and seeing as she was to be his Shield Maiden, she was unsure if what she did outside of any battles that may or may not come would impact him directly or not.
 
"Nonsense. You earned some rest after that thrashing." Arzale said with a chuckle.

The odds of another maiden troubling Amarylis today were slim and so Arzale decided to depart. There were preparations that needed to be made and tasks to be finished. Boarding required all hands on deck, and all hands were expected to be garbed for battle. Goods were being brought up from the depths of the decks, all sorts of spoils from the raid on Belbarren. No slaves though, the Sunderfang only took the exceptional as servants. As Arzale hefted cargo he could think only of the days to come and the trials that lay ahead. More and more spoils came from below deck, crated and barreled for transport. This Revel would certainly be one to remember...Belbarren had been a richer town than the Sunderfang had previously thought. It was unusual that such a wealthy town would be caught so defenseless. A sudden stop and Arzale looked around at the gathered loot. Was it worth it? Was all this worth a life? Everywhere Arzale looked he saw Larethia's face, saw her bright eyes staring back at him. Sorrow wrenched at Arzale's gut and robbed his arms of strength until the warrior found himself unable to continue. There were no questions, no attempts to stop Arzale as he made his way to the ship's railing. The others on deck knew exactly what Arzale was thinking of, knew the pain he was experiencing first hand quite well. Losing a Maiden was painful for the entire tribe, but the sorrow was deepest for her warrior. Hopefully this strange newcomer would prove her strength, would carry the honor that Arzale and Larethia had fought so hard to establish.

Honor was a weight heavier than any other, a weight that would crush you if you faltered in the slightest. Amarylis had deep shoes to fill, Larethia's fame had almost reached that of legend in her short life. Every move Amarylis made within Vaern's walls would be scrutinized, her every word weighed and judged. Malya would pull no punches when it came to Amarylis' training. A veteran of combat Malya fully understood the caliber of skill that was required to match Arzale on the battlefield, knew just how hard she'd have to push Amarylis to ensure that the girl did not unwittingly get herself and Arzale killed. Beyond Malya there was the issue of the Younglings... Again Arzale's mind drifted back to them. How would Amarylis react to girls who had barely started their cycles attempting to push her around, to fight her and order her about as if they were her elders? How would Arzale deal with those budding warriors that started to sniff around the pretty newcomer? Something in the pit of Arzale's stomach tightened at that thought. Incidents such as that would end quite poorly. Rage was something Arzale had in spades, something he kept chained until it built past the point of restraint and burst forth in a deluge of destruction.
 
Amarylis gave Arzale a nod, her eyes drifting for a brief moment toward the horizon and those walls she saw looming in the distance. She knew beyond those walls her life would alter further than it already had, that once she crossed the gates there would be no turning back and she'd be forever caught within the tangled web Fate had purposefully designed for her all along. It truly had been inevitable, a matter of time. Though the stitching might be different from the original weave of the web, the web did in fact remain—fully intact and in waiting. For her.

A shiver ran along her spine and Amarylis gave Arzale yet another nod, this time shifting her stance so as to move to take her leave of him. She was sore, so very tired and more than in need of some rest. As her eyes drifted away from the sight of the ever-approaching city in the distance, she knew that sleep would be her only form of solace now, her only form of peace.

How she missed her parents, her people. How she missed her home.

"Thank you," Amarylis then said softly as she leaned against whatever she could for balance as she made her way back to where she'd been set up to sleep, in the adjoining room off of Arzale's quarters.

Sleep, much to Amarylis' dismay, was not coming easily nor was her rest seeming to be fitful. Instead, her mind spun and was filled with wild thoughts of what was to come, of things outside her control.

"Damn you," Amarylis cursed, her words directed at Fate itself. Closing her pale eyes, she could feel them dampen, growing just as sore as the rest of her body. She knew that when she next opened them, all would change and be different. She'd be at their destination no doubt and having to accept more of what Fate had in store. All she could do now was hope that somehow she managed to survive it all, that somehow she'd be able to retain this honor Arzale spoke of. Of course, she knew of honor, of right and wrong... but even still, everything seemed so foreign, so different. So with a heavy heart, one longing for home, she finally softly cried herself to sleep.
 
While Amarylis slept the crew of the Priderunner came to discover that they had in fact been followed through the mists, all the way from Belbarren. Four galleons loaded with soldiers from Evera, the empire that claimed Belbarren as it's northernmost port. Arzale had completely forgotten about Amarylis when the threat of battle arose, the warrior instead taking his proper position to lead the boarding charge. A hunger burned in Arzale eyes, and a fierce hatred. No southernblood ship had ever been this close to Vaern. It was time to make sure they drew no closer. The entire ship shuddered as it's heavy steel bow crashed mercilessly into the port side of the first Evera vessel of the small fleet. Splinters and heavy boards went flying in all directions as the dragon-shaped ram on the bow of the Priderunner punched a gaping hole in the hull of the enemy ship. Now entangled, Arzale lead the charge up the ram and over, into the enemy ship, bellowing battle-cries in the oldest of tongues.

"The Golden Halls await us!"
 
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