Raea Stormcrow
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- 64
- Character Biography
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The last few letters flowed onto the page before her, ink gleaming in the light of her oil lamp. Elena studied the careful script in the flickering light for a long moment, following every curve and sweep of the quill across the thick white paper. Reading what it said, what it meant, and reminding herself that it was not too late to turn back from this foolish plan.
After a long minute, she signed the bottom of the letter with her characteristic, exaggerated mark. Sanded the thing and then carefully folded it in half.
And then stood, to walk to the window of her room. In it were all the things that reminded her of the things and people she loved, the things she would soon be leaving behind her. Outside the window was a world she had never seen, that had been denied her. Some would say it was well that she be kept out of the wider reach of the realm...but what could they possibly know? Come the morrow, they would be alive. Come her morrow...well, the next day was never promised to anyone, but her days were drawing to their close. A week, a month, a few years...who could say? The weak thump of her heart, the ache in her joints, the rattle in her chest - all these things spoke of the death that all the chirugeons had promised her parents would come.
Looking back into the room again, at a bed that she had spent far too much time in - racked by fever and dream, by nightmare.
She did not want to dwell on the past any longer. The folded piece of paper in her hands burned like fire, and twisted her heart beside. She was not sure if she feared death or not, any longer...but making Mother suffer, well, that was another thing altogether else. Both her parents wanted only what was best for her, and to that end they had sought the finest physicians throughout the land. Money being simply no object to bar their search, they had the finest. And none could anser the question of what ailed her, let alone how to remedy it.
One by one they came, and one by one they left with their little bags, with their staves and their auguries. Magicks bereft of effect, condolences and apologies on lips that did not really care. Well, not entirely accurate; they would have become independently wealthy had they come up with a cure.
Alas, it was not to be. Elena would not suffer the indignity any longer, nor put her mother and father through any more of this torture. Long a burden on the family, she would be no longer.
She slipped across the room, and set the letter on her pillow. The bed was neatly turned down, unused this night and forevermore after. She stood and stared at it for a long moment, torn between desires - family, the warm love of those who cared for her. Suffocated by their love, tied to this place and never allowed to leave the city and see beyond it. Their hopes and dreams were still tied into the belief that there was something that could be done.
The other desire, cruel and selfish though it was, was to be rid of this place, to go out into the world and choose her own way out. She did not desire to rush towards death...but the manner of it would be in her own hands, not some grim specter that could not be bargained with, that could not be sated.
Hesitation...and then a firming of resolve. A single tear rolled down her cheek, skin the color of ash, as she turned to the wardrobe and picked up the bundle in its bottom. Tied with string, it was quite heavy for just clothing, but then it was not just clothing. At the back of the wardrobe, her rapier - a finely crafted thing of the highest grade of steel, the basket inlaid with silver and gold. Despite the garish appearance, it was a workman's tool and not just for looks.
She looked at it for a long moment, before stripping herself down to her small clothes. The chill in the room made her ashen skin pebble and a thrill of chills run through her, but she ignored that as best she could. Untying the knot, she withdrew its contents. A simple dress, skirts divided for riding; a shawl of brown as nondescript as that of any peasant girl's. A small washleather purse filled with enough gold to possibly buy a small town, and along with it letters-of-rights that could get her as much more as she needed.
At least for a time. Those would have to be saved and used sparingly, as they would alert her family to her location.
Donning her new raiments, she stood before the long mirror in her room, and examined herself. These would do, she decided, The bundle still held other clothes - things more suited to adventuring; trousers and shirt, things that would make her mother gasp in shock to think her wearing. Even thinking of it made her heart twist in her chest again, and doubt flood back in. She steeled her resolve, though.
This really was for the best. On my own terms, she thought. A little sad, but determined all the same.
Elena returned to the window once more, and looked out over the city. It was dark, but the streets remained lit by lamps and the occasional watchmen on patrol. In this part of the city, their presence was a touch more conspicuous, but it shouldn't be much trouble for her to slip past them and into the wider world.
She took a deep breath, gripping the belted sheathed blade tightly in her hand.
"So long, Elena," she said at last. A tremble in her voice - fear, resignation, and sorrow - betrayed the emotions. Blessedly, there was none to see the tear roll down her cheek. A tear for her mother and her father, a tear for the love they had shared with her throughout her life. A tear for the marriage that would never be, the vast trading empire that would have been hers to run had she shown any aptitude for it. One day, one day in the future...
...that would never be.
She slipped out the window, and left behind her life an her name. Off to seek one last adventure, to experience the world for the first time, for the last time.
It was better this way. And if she kept telling herself that, then maybe it would sound true, some day.
After a long minute, she signed the bottom of the letter with her characteristic, exaggerated mark. Sanded the thing and then carefully folded it in half.
And then stood, to walk to the window of her room. In it were all the things that reminded her of the things and people she loved, the things she would soon be leaving behind her. Outside the window was a world she had never seen, that had been denied her. Some would say it was well that she be kept out of the wider reach of the realm...but what could they possibly know? Come the morrow, they would be alive. Come her morrow...well, the next day was never promised to anyone, but her days were drawing to their close. A week, a month, a few years...who could say? The weak thump of her heart, the ache in her joints, the rattle in her chest - all these things spoke of the death that all the chirugeons had promised her parents would come.
Looking back into the room again, at a bed that she had spent far too much time in - racked by fever and dream, by nightmare.
She did not want to dwell on the past any longer. The folded piece of paper in her hands burned like fire, and twisted her heart beside. She was not sure if she feared death or not, any longer...but making Mother suffer, well, that was another thing altogether else. Both her parents wanted only what was best for her, and to that end they had sought the finest physicians throughout the land. Money being simply no object to bar their search, they had the finest. And none could anser the question of what ailed her, let alone how to remedy it.
One by one they came, and one by one they left with their little bags, with their staves and their auguries. Magicks bereft of effect, condolences and apologies on lips that did not really care. Well, not entirely accurate; they would have become independently wealthy had they come up with a cure.
Alas, it was not to be. Elena would not suffer the indignity any longer, nor put her mother and father through any more of this torture. Long a burden on the family, she would be no longer.
She slipped across the room, and set the letter on her pillow. The bed was neatly turned down, unused this night and forevermore after. She stood and stared at it for a long moment, torn between desires - family, the warm love of those who cared for her. Suffocated by their love, tied to this place and never allowed to leave the city and see beyond it. Their hopes and dreams were still tied into the belief that there was something that could be done.
The other desire, cruel and selfish though it was, was to be rid of this place, to go out into the world and choose her own way out. She did not desire to rush towards death...but the manner of it would be in her own hands, not some grim specter that could not be bargained with, that could not be sated.
Hesitation...and then a firming of resolve. A single tear rolled down her cheek, skin the color of ash, as she turned to the wardrobe and picked up the bundle in its bottom. Tied with string, it was quite heavy for just clothing, but then it was not just clothing. At the back of the wardrobe, her rapier - a finely crafted thing of the highest grade of steel, the basket inlaid with silver and gold. Despite the garish appearance, it was a workman's tool and not just for looks.
She looked at it for a long moment, before stripping herself down to her small clothes. The chill in the room made her ashen skin pebble and a thrill of chills run through her, but she ignored that as best she could. Untying the knot, she withdrew its contents. A simple dress, skirts divided for riding; a shawl of brown as nondescript as that of any peasant girl's. A small washleather purse filled with enough gold to possibly buy a small town, and along with it letters-of-rights that could get her as much more as she needed.
At least for a time. Those would have to be saved and used sparingly, as they would alert her family to her location.
Donning her new raiments, she stood before the long mirror in her room, and examined herself. These would do, she decided, The bundle still held other clothes - things more suited to adventuring; trousers and shirt, things that would make her mother gasp in shock to think her wearing. Even thinking of it made her heart twist in her chest again, and doubt flood back in. She steeled her resolve, though.
This really was for the best. On my own terms, she thought. A little sad, but determined all the same.
Elena returned to the window once more, and looked out over the city. It was dark, but the streets remained lit by lamps and the occasional watchmen on patrol. In this part of the city, their presence was a touch more conspicuous, but it shouldn't be much trouble for her to slip past them and into the wider world.
She took a deep breath, gripping the belted sheathed blade tightly in her hand.
"So long, Elena," she said at last. A tremble in her voice - fear, resignation, and sorrow - betrayed the emotions. Blessedly, there was none to see the tear roll down her cheek. A tear for her mother and her father, a tear for the love they had shared with her throughout her life. A tear for the marriage that would never be, the vast trading empire that would have been hers to run had she shown any aptitude for it. One day, one day in the future...
...that would never be.
She slipped out the window, and left behind her life an her name. Off to seek one last adventure, to experience the world for the first time, for the last time.
It was better this way. And if she kept telling herself that, then maybe it would sound true, some day.
