Private Tales Broken Compacts

[Cal]

Cal did not wake, at least not immediately. He had spent more than half the night gathering what they had needed, talking to himself, and plucking quite a bit of equipment from Lorinth's corpse.

The now dead Inquisitor had come fully decked out, likely intending to show off, and Cal had decided it was best his things don't remain. When he did not wake after a few moments and Orlaith repeated his name, the young noble finally snapped awake.

His head spun around for a moment, eyes groggy, and he looked around.

"Wa-oh." He said as he rubbed his eyes.

Some of the nerves from the night before flickered through him, and he felt an immediate queasiness as he had the unreasonable thought that someone was right on their tail. It was ludicrous of course, but he couldn't help it.

"I found a Mantic." He said, pulling himself up from the chair. "They wouldn't sell me two."

Not enough Silver.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith's brow creased as she frowned at him in confusion having assumed he'd been sleeping through the night like she had, but clearly he'd been busy. She shuddered unintentionally at the thought of the mantic. They gave her the creeps and she'd have preferred a horse, of course, but she'd expected to be walking and it had clearly cost him and so she wasn't about to complain about his kindness.

"Where did you find a Mantic?" she asked curiously as she pushed herself from the sofa and limped a few staggered paces until she reached the table and had to lean with a soft growl in frustration. She looked down at the state of her legs and huffed.. "I don't suppose you have any spare clothes that might fit?..." a brow raised as she turned to look at him sheepishly over her shoulder.

 

[Cal]

Cal considered the latter question first. "My mother's wardrobe might have something."

If it had not all been eaten by moths, or collapsed in on itself. He motioned for her to stay put for a second, and then quickly headed up stairs. There was a creak in the wood with every step he took, and more than once he thought he was going to fall through.

Eventually though he returned from upstairs carrying a massive bundle of clothes. Most of it had holes, or was torn in some way, but it was at least better than nothing.

"My father sold most of my mothers more regal dresses." Cal said quietly as he dug through the pile, pushing out some of the less formal wear and riding clothes. "But apparently she got to keep some."

Had to keep up appearances. "There's a few farms nearby. They use the Mantic's to hunt Velin that come down from the mountains."

The Velin were large draconic creatures, not quite large enough to be called Dragons...but big enough that they liked to eat the local livestock.

 

[Órlaith]

"Regal isn't exactly my style.." she laughed under her breath as she started picking through the pile of clothes, pausing to spare him a small smile. "Thank you."

Órlaith, despite her father's wealth, had grown as little more than a peasant, better off only because she had no choice but to have a roof over her head to keep her sheltered from Rhagos, to keep her in line. Her two meals a day were always the same, stale bread and water for breakfast, and the same stale bread and water at dinner, accompanied by a lump of grey meat and some cabbage water. It was sustenance, but she'd never known any different.. "I grew up in the monastery." she told him, as though that much wasn't already obvious.

Her clothes were simple and well washed and worn, and so the clothes he offered, however shabby and tattered, were still like luxury. She picked out a few pairs of riding leggings, (deciding it was probably wise to pack some), and some shirts, and an old leather riding jacket which had obviously been grand in it's day and to her, still was. She held it against her like a child with a pretty gown and she smiled. "These will do perfectly." she nodded, glad his mother had been around her size.

She cleared her throat and twisted her lips as she looked at him somewhat awkwardly in mute request for some privacy to change.

 

[Cal]

Cal nodded his head as she mentioned a monastery.

With who her father was he truthfully would have suspected a dungeon. Her father's reputation was not a pleasant one, though Cal had never once met him. By the time he'd been born his family had already consigned themselves to the lower ring of nobility, his grandfather's ways having gotten them into more than a little trouble.

For a moment he seemed to space out, as if lost in some sort of void. After a few seconds he blinked, noticing that Orlaith was practically staring at him when she cleared her throat. He looked at her then the clothes and then nodded his head.

"Right, sorry." Modesty had mostly been forgotten at The Tower.

Men and women both were kept together and trained together. Gender and the like didn't much matter to the Inquisition. One wasn't there to fornicate, but to hunt mages. That was what was told to them anyway.

"I'll..uhh." He motioned to the left. "Go get the Mantic packed."

Cal whirled on his heel and made his way out towards the delapitated barn.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith returned an awkward half smile at his apology and waited for him to leave until she rubbed at the back of her neck with a huff and gingerly washed by the basin and pulled on fresh clothes. She tucked the baggy shirt into her leggings and pulled on the leather jacket, smiling as she realised that it was fur-lined and warm. Her own clothes and blankets were always scratchy, and she hugged her arms for a moment, having never felt anything so sort in her life.

With a few other spare garments rolled together, she pulled on her boots and drew up her fur-rimmed hood to step outside, and limp down the steps with some difficulty. Her gaze cast over the dark patch of blood-stained gravel and she kicked her feet over it, scattering the stones as she crossed it to find him.

Her gaze settled on the mantic and her nose wrinkled with a quiet groan to herself. "I've never.. been this close to one. Will it bite?" she asked cautiously as she studied the beast.

 

[Cal]

Cal looked back as Orlaith appeared outside, a smile touching his lips. "Mantics? No."

He wanted to laugh at the question, but the very idea of doing so made him feel somewhat bitter inside. Orlaith had likely missed entire facets of her life. It made him resentful, hateful of people that he had never met.

An exact opposite of how his father would have felt.

"They're babies." Cal said as he patted the oddly armored creature on the side. It's mouth fell open and it's tongue stuck out a bit as drool dripped onto the floor. The Mantic clearly enjoying as Cal scratched it's throat. "Don't even exist in the wild anymore."

The Creatures had all been taken and tamed by the people of Rhagos long ago. "See?"

Cal told Orlaith.

 

[Órlaith]

She didn't have to see his amusement to feel it, sometimes she couldn't help but feel things other people felt, but as normal as it was to her, she found it irritated people and she tried hard not to acknowledge it. Doing so was an acknowledgement of her magic, of her sin, and such things should not exist.

Hazel eyes moved hesitantly between the man and beast and she watched the interaction with mild curiosity, giving a brief nod and yet remaining quietly cautious. "Alright.." she sighed and looked to him, edging around the creature to give Cal her roll of spare clothes, hoping he'd attach it for her.

"Where do you plan on going?.." she asked, her brow arching quizzically. She hadn't thought about where she was going really, she just had to run, but she wondered if he had a path in mind..

"Perhaps, if we find a town on the way, we can part ways there.. I won't burden you with my presence any longer than need be.. You've done enough." she nodded, stepping a little closer to the mantic and reaching her hand to carefully touch it's shoulder with the very tips of her fingers.

 

[Cal]

For a few moments Cal considered.

In truth he had not actually thought about where they were going. All he had considered was...getting away in the first place. Now that they were setting out it seemed more pressing, especially with her questions. Hand froze on the side of the Mantic's throat.

"I..." He slowly let his words die on his tongue, clearing his throat. "I'm not sure."

Cal admitted. "There's Therag."

It was a small town just a weeks ride from where they were now, nestled into the side of the mountains. Technically speaking it was not within the sphere of Rhagos' power, but...well the Inquisitors still made their way there sometimes.

"There's at least a week between us and where the Inquisitors will go." He told her quietly. "Let's worry about it then."

In truth, he only said the words because he didn't think they'd make it.

Their chances were slim. Rhagos had an army. The Inquisitors had a network of spies and informants that one could hardly imagine. Cal wasn't even sure if they would make it through the next day.

Despite that though he clambered up onto the Mantic, offering a hand to Orlaith.

 

[Órlaith]

When the creature didn't toss it's head to bite off her hand, she slowly eased enough to shuffle just a little closer. She had been on a horse only once in her life, and she recalled how spooked the thing had been by her after she'd tried to use magic to keep it calm only to have the exact opposite affect and be thrown. The mantic didn't seem to mind her, and she pressed the palm of her hand against it and stroked gently to make sure.

As his hand was offered to her she glanced at it and looked up at him, her teeth capturing her lower lip to chew upon nervously as she considered. Not that there was really any alternative. She sighed and grabbed hold of his hand, allowing her to pull her up onto the creature's back, and her body went rigid with tension.

"Shitballs." she murmured, forgetting to let go of his hand..

 

[Cal]

"It's fine." Cal told her softly.

The Mantic seemed to rustle beneath them for a few seconds, shifting on his legs and prancing back and forth before Cal grasped it's reigns and pulled back.

His hand slipped from Orlaith's, patting her thigh for a brief moment to reassure her. "Hang on."

That was the only warning that she received. Within half a heartbeat of him saying the words, the Mantic beneath them suddenly jumped forward. It lurched into a huge jump, bounding forward in a great leap and practically rushing across the lands.

It moved faster than any horse could have, the wind rushing through their hair and over their skin.

 

[Órlaith]

Her arms wrapped tightly around Cal's ribs as he let go of her hand, her grip probably a little too tight to be comfortable. A gasp stuck in her throat as the creature launched itself forward, and she closed her eyes and muffled a frantic "Fuck fuck fuck!" against the man's back as she clutched on.

Slowly but surely, her rigid tension began to ease, and her eyes opened to watch the world rush by. It was not an easy or comfortable thing to ride on the back of a galloping beast's back, her legs were in enough pain without having to grip on for dear life, but she found herself enjoying the speed in which they travelled, having never felt the wind in her face like this before. A smile broke across her face and she laughed, letting one hand slip from her grip on Cal to let her fingers splay into the air to feel the wind pour through them.

 

[Cal]

A mantic's run was not as smooth as the gait of a horse, but the damned things were fast.

The world rushed on by as they moved, dashing over the plains surrounding Cal's home before eventually breaking into the forest. They rode for hours without stopping, the pace of set not so much by Cal, but whatever the creature could manage without falling dead.

Hours passed, and by the time the sun was getting ready to set they had penetrated deep into the Forest. Eventually the Mantic could run no longer, and it's pace began to slow until finally it fell only into a simple walk. "Think it's time to make camp."

Cal said to his companion, pulling gently on the Mantic's reigns.

The creature trudged to the side and into a nearby clearing, coming to a stop before Cal slid himself off the side of it's saddle. A second later he offered a hand to Orlaith.

 

[Órlaith]

By the time they slowed, Orlaith had grown used to the rugged ride, and her body had relaxed enough for her to close her eyes. The jacket kept her warm enough to keep the cold off of her back, but the air was frigid and it bit at her bare skin, and so she held onto Cal for more than just stability. She pressed her cheek to his back and nuzzled into the warmth, and when she felt the rumble of his words, she found herself waking from a light doze and straightened herself up with a few heavy blinks.

"Mhm.." she yawned and her muscles shuddered as she stretched.. Her gaze drifted over the thick forest around them and her brow furrowed at how pretty it was. She had never been outside Rhagos before, and she felt her soul breathe at the sight of her unfamiliar surroundings.

"Where are we?.." she asked and cleared the grittiness from her voice as she took his hand and slipped to the ground with a stagger and a wince, her body sharply reminded of her wounds.

 

[Cal]

Cal half caught her to make sure she didn't tumble onto the ground. "Rhagel Forest."

That was really as accurate as he could tell her.

Rhagel was a massive Forest just to the north of Rhagos, nestled at the foothills of the Spine. The Wood went on for miles upon miles, having provided sanctuary and a way of life for thousands of people over the years. It was a good place to disappear, at least for a little while.

"Maybe a day or so from Tel-Amos." A small vassal city of Rhagos, famed for a specific type of pork rib which was often said needed pages of description to properly be understood. "Though I'm not sure we should head there."

As with all of Raghos' Vassal's, the Inquisition had a watch post there.

 

[Órlaith]

Órlaith gave him an apologetic look as he caught hold of her, straightening up with a sheepish smile and trying to find her balance. "Thanks.." she breathed quietly and let her gaze wander.

Her her head upward, feeling her hair tumble further down her back; the pines were several houses tall, reaching toward the golden rays of the last hour of sunlight. Birdsong came in lulls and bursts, the silence and the singing working together as well as any improvised melody. A new smile painted itself upon her face, semi-illuminated by the dappled light.

"Hm.." she sighed as she finally looked back at him, her eyes heavy and tired. "I'd quite happily live here, I think..." she smiled warmly at him, her hazels glistening with appreciation as she dipped her chin. "Afraid I've never camped before, just tell me what I can do.."

 

[Cal]

He blinked for a second, taking a breath.

It would stand to reason that she had never camped before, hell it would stand to reason that she had never really done much of anything. From what Orlaith had told him she had spent most of her time in the monastery.

Briefly he thought about asking her how she had thought she could survive in the wild alone...but it seemed cruel to do so. "Clear a space for the bedrolls."

Cal told her, deciding it was best to start her off easy.

"Leaves and such, so no bugs crawl on you at night." Bare earth was always better. "I'll get a fire going."

 

[Órlaith]

The sad reality was that Órlaith hadn't held up much hope of surviving in the wilderness on her own, at least not for long; but if she stayed then death was certain, and so the gamble had been her only choice. She nodded sharply in understanding and started clearing an area large enough for the bedrolls. The thought of bugs would no doubt have been an uncomfortable thought for most, but she wasn't phased, she'd slept in worse conditions in confinement.

When the patch of earth was clear she limped over to fetch the bed rolls and blankets and sat by the fire pit he'd been building, rubbing at her face.. "Do you think they'll follow us out here?." she asked as she curled her arms around her knees and gingerly pulled them against her, settling her chin atop them as she watched him.

 

[Cal]

Cal set up the small twigs and logs that he gathered up off the forest floor, setting a small circle of stones before piling the wood carefully. "They'll track you."

He told her softly.

A part of him wanted to lie, wanted to tell her that she would be safe and that she did not have to worry. Yet deceiving her seemed wrong, like driving a knife into her back while she was not looking. It was better to be honest.

"They might not follow us into the Forest, but if someone sees you or overhears the wrong talk it'll reach their ears in days." He told her. "When we go into town we'll have to disguise ourselves."

His head shook. "Slipping past the Inquisition won't be easy, but at the very least I know how they work."

That was an edge, if only a small one.

 

[Órlaith]

Her brow furrowed at his answer and she paused to look at him in pensive silence for a short moment. She supposed she had already known that, but as blunt as he was, she appreciated his honesty in favour of empty words of placation, and she nodded in resigned agreement.

She sat herself down on one of the bedrolls and pulled a blanket around her to shiver off the cold as she watched him build the fire, nodding in understanding of his precautions. She was sharply reminded of the reason why he knew how the inquisition worked, and she studied his face with a soft frown in consternation, in wonderment of how he had ever been part of that and what he must have endured.

"Are you afraid of me?.." she asked out of nowhere, her head tilting with a soft frown, hoping he'd be as honest about that as he had been with her previous questions.

 

[Cal]

Cal stopped what he was doing for a moment, freezing as he held flint and steel in his hand. A breath filled his lungs, and slowly he sat back.

The twigs lay there for a moment. "I do, in a way."

He admitted quietly. It was hard not to. Years upon years of living in Rhagos. Decades of hearing his father speak of the 'disgusting' sorcerers. Countless days spent in listening to preachers and town callers railing against the monsters of magic.

It was hard not to be scared.

"But..." He swallowed. "I didn't just...I didn't just not kill a mage at the tower. I chose not to do it, but it wasn't because I was a weak or somehow randomly thought it wrong."

Quietly he looked down at the unlit twigs. "Someone opened my eyes. Showed me the lies they've been telling. Made me believe the truth of them-you. That you're just people like everyone else. Not monsters."

 

[Órlaith]

She tried to maintain a calm expression, and yet the brief furrowing of her brow at his answer betrayed the sinking feeling, like her heart had sunk to the pit of her stomach like a rock. To think that people were taught that she was something to be feared gave her the understanding as to why they hated her and her 'sort' so much. Some, she knew, would have found some pride in being feared, people much like Lorinth, she imagined. But not her. Despite it all, Órlaith held onto a hope that all people weren't the same. The hope had been singed and frayed, of course, it was a tattered thing that she kept with her like an old comfort blanket.

Órlaith listened to him speak, noting each idiosyncratic movement and note in his tone, and it seemed a subject that she ought to either avoid or broach carefully. She was too curious for avoidance..

"Oh.. You all can be monsters just the same as we can. I've seen people use magic with the same look in their eyes as Lorinth used that whip. It's those who give into the fear and hate that become the monsters, it doesn't matter what the weapon.." she shrugged and narrowed her gaze slightly, her tone softening..

"I am grateful to that 'someone' that you speak of. Seems I owe them a great deal... A friend?" she asked carefully.

 

[Cal]

He nodded his head in agreement, remembering the way that some of the Inquisitors had looked at even the students.

Goosebumps rose across his flesh as he took in a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment as he tried to refocus himself. He tried to push the memories away, tried to at least pull himself together long enough to ensure that they would survive.

Slowly Cal leaned forward, starting to light the fire as he spoke. "She was."

He told Orlaith.

There was a solemness to his voice, an untold story that perhaps did not need to be said out loud. Mages did not last long in the Tower. Not long at all.

Sparks flew onto the tinder he had set, and within seconds a fire burst into life ahead of him. Warmth spread through the small campsite, the flames casting a light onto Cal's face. "She was executed."

He told her.

"A final test for some fucking ponce from the inner-city." His voice was as bitter as the taste of dirt.

 

[Órlaith]

She captured her lower lip in her teeth and gently chewed as she watched him try to fight off the memories she'd made him conjure, her gaze narrowing with apology as he explained..

"I'm sorry, Cal.." she told him quietly, the apology carrying a depth, an apology meant to encompass everything he'd gone through, what she'd dragged him into, the hand life had dealt him. Hers wasn't exactly a winning deck either, but Órlaith had always been one to consider others long before herself. He'd clearly had a difficult time of things.

"Seems we have more in common than I thought.." she let out a huff of a laugh, hoping it would melt the ice a little, and she decided to try and divert the subject of conversation away from absent friends, she had too many to count.

"You've never asked me.." her head tilted. "About the abilities I have..". Her lips pursed as she studied him with a shrug. "If it frightens you then you needn't, I understand."

 

[Cal]

His head shook, as if rejecting the idea that an apology was ever even necessary.

She had gone through twice what he had. At least he'd been able to walk around the world, find some hobbies, some sort of entertainment. Who was he to claim he was some sort of victim? Even as a sham of a son he'd had ten times her life. "I haven't asked..."

He trailed off, clearing his throat.

"Because it's your choice to tell me." Cal closed his eyes for a moment, letting the heat of the flame run over his skin. There was a comfort there, something familiar at least. "I have no more right to it than you do my own mind."

A lesson she had taught him. One he would not forget. "Your abilities don't...don't make you something different."

The words were hard for him to say. It was clear that the concept was still hard for him, but that he truly did believe it. A lifetime of lessons was hard to undo, but it was clear Cal was trying his best.

"If you want to tell me, you can." He offered, finally looking at her.