Private Tales Now In This New Light

Kristen Pirian passed through the gates of Vel Stratholm and felt deeply the ache of excitement in her breast. For she waited now just beyond those gates, and she waited to see a familiar face likewise pass through them. A good friend—nay, the best of friends.

Zinnia St. Kolbe.

It had been that in Kristen's time in the Academy she first was thrown into a different class. Indeed, "thrown", as the Proctors didn't quite know what to do with this Pirian anomaly in the wake of the Revolution, aged much more than the typical Initiate starting out, until Proctor Magomo had suggested "throwing her into the deep end of the lake" to see if she would sink or swim. For two years she had been with this class, but this amount of time was deemed insufficient for graduation, and thus Kristen would be cycled into the next seniormost class.

And it was here, among the so-called "Gilded Class", that Kristen would come to meet Zinnia. Much would they endure together, and greatly would they support one another. Friends were most assuredly difficult to come by in the Academy, even so in the wake of the Revolution, and this made the closeness Kristen and Zinnia shared all the more cherished to her. They had both graduated, and a celebration, of course, was due!

Yet, as it happened, such a celebration did not come, for as fate would have it Kristen would be called away to Mount Dincia—in her heart feeling that it was Aionus himself who had done so. Many months would pass, Kristen gone away from Vel Anir all the while. Only a short time ago had she returned. First she reunited with family, her uncle Tobias, her father Neil, and her mother Josephine among them. Kristen had been bestowed with the Ladyship of Vel Numera, and with this new responsibility and other urgent matters tugging at her time, difficult was it to coordinate meetings with those outside her family.

But Aionus's blessings, Kristen now had that opportunity! Riding north from concluded business in the south, she meant to stop at Vel Stratholm, this to confirm some story the Rogue Dreadlord Zael Castomir had spun. But more importantly, such a stop had the right location and timing. Kristen had in advance sent a letter destined for Zinnia, and, barring some mishap or unforeseen delay, they could at last see one another again! Much would there be to speak of in all this time!

So Kristen waited, mounted, watching the flow of people in their comings and goings, paying keen attention to look for that signature hood, those golden eyes, and perhaps most of all that bright smile.

Zinnia

"Zinnia!"

And in that moment it was as though a great empty chasm had been filled, all the time spent departed now vanished, and here they were again just like the yesterdays prior to Kristen's pilgrimage. Worry unraveled to nothingness, and in its place came elation and joy in their full triumph. For all the ill tidings and perils of the present day, here at least there was cause for untarnished celebration.

Kristen bid her horse to come alongside Zinnia's own. She reached over and flung wide her arms and threw them about Zinnia in a long awaited hug.

"I cannot apologize enough for the suddenness of my departure! But I had to. I had to."

Zinnia

Kristen, with a similar mist clouding her eyes, said as they held their embrace:

"Woe to the written word! For ever does it fail in compare to this!"

A great sacrifice indeed had those two Priests—nay, the Holy Sentinel who spoke through them—asked of her. To forgo friends and family, indeed even the man she loved, so as to undertake the sudden journey to lands afar. She knew now the cost of her pilgrimage, for the price had been paid upfront, and only in time would she come to know the fruit of it. But in this she had faith. For no lean reason would she—and others—be so abruptly called to Mount Dincia.

At length Kristen and Zinnia would separate, and Kristen would yet keep a hand to Zinnia's arm in close kinship.

"But how have you been, Zinnia? Surely there has been some brightness to fill these interim days?"

Zinnia

In some sense, no change in one's fortune could be seen as a good thing. Certainly Kristen's chief fear was abated, for Zinnia by her own account was doing well as a Dreadlord (and Second Level too, goodness!), and there seemed no new cause for concern over her secret.

"Of my own accord have I returned," Kristen said. "I shall tell the story in full in good time, but know that I have done what I was called to do atop Mount Dincia. The Priests, though they meant well, would have prefered me stay, and when I gathered the notion of this I challenged them, and bade them tell the truth—so they did. I needn't stay at the Temple any longer, so with my new blessing I departed, and made at once for home."




Zinnia

Kristen bid her horse slowly forward down the main lane preceding from the Vel Stratholm gate, and spoke as she did:

"No such duty as that yet," she said, for it would still be some time yet before her first call to active service with the 44th. She continued, "But I've no doubt that it will come in time—or, at least, I should hope that it will. For I simply cannot feel that my assignment to the Fourth Level was anything other than punitive, prompted in large part by the mean-spirited designs of House Pirian's enemies. I know that I lack the years more typical of the Academy's regimen, but..."

Kristen waved a hand, as if casting off the frustrating thought.

"Regardless, the Third Level remains mine to earn, and I will strive to do so."

Zinnia

Kristen grimaced when Zinnia said non-combat roles. Blessed Aionus, she hoped that didn't turn into prophecy. To be disrespected and disregarded so! Yet there was a weight of truth to it, wasn't there? From all Kristen had heard of the Fourth Level Dreadlords, it seemed as though that rank were a mire in which there was slim hope of escape.

But she resolved to rise to at least the Third Level. That she knew quite confidently she could do. And what a blessed thing, this confidence, for alien would it have been scarcely two years ago!

"And I would join you!" she said; why, she had many a cross word already composed in her mind for just such a day, when thin patience ran down to the point of snapping.

"Well. In other, more pleasant, news, I believe I may have told you before about the House Pirian tradition of granting the Lord or Lady-ship of Vel Numera to young Pirians for a time. And as it so happens..."

Kristen could hardly contain her smile.

"...my Father and Uncle have bestowed upon me the Ladyship of Vel Numera!"

Zinnia

Zinnia's effervescent excitement brought a big smile to Kristen's face.

"That's alright, Zinnia, it is easy enough to explain. To be a Lord or Lady, in the full and proper sense, is to be landed—to possess a title, or titles, granting ownership of some particular land. And so it is now with myself and Vel Numera. House Pirian has granted to me this land, the town and the fields and all that lay within the furthest reaches of its bounds, and while I retain ownership it is both my privilege and my charge. For not only is Vel Numera one of the many fertile lands which House Pirian holds, and on which Vel Anir depends for food, but the livelihoods of the Pirian loyal commonfolk are my responsibility—many of whom have lived there for generations. And I wish to see them prosper."

Her other question came back to Kristen, and she blushed slightly and said:

"And no. No arranged marriage, or anything of the sort, so far as Ladyship goes for me. Though...mayhap I shall soon be wed, I hope—if good fortune can be mine for but a while longer."

Zinnia

Well.

If ever there was a cause for more blushing.

"I believe you may know him," Kristen said, somewhat in the pursuit of being cheeky and jesting, somewhat in deference to a strange bit of anxiousness about saying his name. This latter part passed quickly.

"'Tis Alistair," she said, coming out with it now with a smile. "We had been courting even before our mission with the Mad Legion. On parting for Mount Dincia I sent him a letter, as I did with you, and now I am glad to have returned much sooner than I had anticipated. Yet circumstance has decreed that I, at present, cannot reunite with him—I consider it well a blessing for the two us to have the opportunity now! But soon, perhaps. Soon, sometime in the misty unknown of the coming days, it may be that pressing matters and duties no longer restrain the two of us, and we may enjoy what I have long desired. And...who knows?"

Gods, her cheeks were so warm!

"It may not be when we first reunite, but...when it pleases him, I hope he will ask for betrothal, so that I may be the happiest woman in all Vel Anir, and in turn make him the happiest man. I do hope."

Zinnia

Kristen spoke all that she spoke, but Zinnia's nervousness was not lost on her during this while. Now Kristen had mentioned the Mad Legion (and more to the point, what had happened during the battle with Redoran), and a wordless thought in her mind had it that this was the cause of her friend's blooming anxiety. And to Kristen, Zinnia's response confirmed it.

Seen me.

Kristen glanced around in a more or less "casual" manner as they rode down the thoroughfare in Vel Stratholm, taking note of passersby until none were at their sides, and then leaning over somewhat in her saddle she said in low tones to Zinnia, "You mustn't be so nervous. We the three of us all know, yes, but there is nothing to fear."


Zinnia

"Of course."

And to that end, Kristen now began her search, riding and glancing about. An inn, of course, would be the foremost choice, for certainly they would have to come to one eventually to retire once the day grew long—and that was not so far off. Still Kristen intended to visit the orphanage hinted at by Zael, and thought it to be better to purchase lodgings after that was done with. But if need be, they could go to one early.

Gods, what could it be? Anxiety had struck Zinnia keenly over this, and Kristen could do nothing but worry that some manner of incident had happened while she was away at Mount Dincia. Nothing so terrible as to make Zinnia invoke the promise Kristen had made to her in Elbion, but close calls could be distressing enough. Mayhap something like this had happened in the company of Alistair, and the mention of his name, therefore, bringing forth those bitter memories. If so, then at least Alistair was there, for surely he would have helped Zinnia in whatever fashion the incident called for.

Kristen was about ready to simply resolve for an inn room—this before the impetus of the moment faded. But to her left she came to notice a large courtyard alongside the thoroughfare, its lush green well-maintained, and in the center of that square which stood in contrast to the rest of the city lay an abandoned church, small and quaint. Long ago had Vel Stratholm been a religious center in the land of Aniria, yet there the church stood like some monument to a past not quite forgotten. Old, ancient even, yet preserved as best the Stratholm citizenry could, though whatever god or gods it once housed had long since departed.

Kristen dismounted from her horse before the church doors. An old, now rusty chain was threaded through the door's handles, and secured with a padlock no one seemed to have touched in years; mayhap the interior of the church would not look as preserved as the outside. Nevertheless, it would serve.

Kristen with her porcelain hand grabbed and squeezed the chain, and it broke under her artificial hand's strength. She let go and it slid like fleeing snake and fell to the ground. She pushed open one of the double doors and walked inside. Old boards creaked under her boots, and in many places there was naught but dirt. Emptiness pervaded throughout the church's small interior, all things save the floor and walls and pillars removed. Only the clouded glass of the windows remained, whereby faint light could still penetrate through.

And in here Kristen turned to Zinnia and said, "So...Zinnia, my beloved friend, may you speak your mind? What troubles you?"

Zinnia