Private Tales Moss & Granite (Caelistis no Elani)

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Gihada Kierkegarde

Gihada Kierkegarde

Grace & Might
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The road stretched beyond Gihada's reach. She sunk into the mossy undergrowth, sword unsheathed beside her. Horses on the loose rock & padded dirt. Pointed ears twitched. Heavy laden, the chink of armour and thud thud of weapons against sides.

No. Too heavy were the sounds. Too much metal for the young elf to dare an attack in the open.

"Oy! Dono, you hear anything, yet?"

"Swore the brats went in this direction."

"Don't be daft, Tuulu'll fish'em out, he's got the Westbank. Won't be long before there ain't a place left the scarpers can hide."

"And if they try another Noble again?"

"We kill 'em like the last ones."

Gihada sunk into the moss until her lips pressed into mud. She didn't dare move this close to the road. Every inch of her skin buzzed, as she listened for Caeli... please goddess please let Caeli stay quiet. Mystmarch wasn't safe, the net cast by Ada Kirkegarde was far more vast than either of the girls realized... a horse's hoof slipped on the grass mere inches from Gihada's hiding spot.

"Oy, oy! Watch the horse Dono!"

"Sorry, s'alright! Think it spooked."

@Caelistis no Elani
 
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Gloved hands sunk into the mossy ground, her face close enough to nearly bury itself in the dirt. The clicks and chinks of armor radiated the air. Hooves tapping along the road. How many weeks had it been since their escape? Ada Kierkegarde-sama relentless tyranny was over – if only they could catch a minute’s break from the never-ending guard patrols.

Caelistis, though, was used to the regular hunger pains, the uncomfortable beds, but even so – the ground itself, dirt and rocks, and the rather nasty bugs made their journey arduous. Already, the clothes she wore were stained and dirty.

She tried to keep herself from fully holding her breath – instead, she tried her best to create a rhythm, despite the overwhelming panic she felt.

Her body slightly shook – she was unsure if it was the fear or the need to flee which caused such a reaction. If they were found, she wasn’t sure what they would do. It sounded like several – Gihada couldn’t take that many. Caelistis was useless in a close-combat fight, and with her legs already sore from the never-ending walking and running, she wasn’t sure if she could get far enough to use her bow.

Tuulu was looking for them, too. She shouldn’t have been surprised. The horse spooked, it seemed, but the fear ran through her body in a paralyzing grip. She tilted her head to give Gihada a panicked look before her eyes peeked up.

Perhaps they weren’t found, not yet.

The group would leave soon. And they needed to run, run as fast they did when Ada Kierkegarde-sama sicked her troops on the Noble House. “Gods, protect us,” the quietest of whimper.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
In the distance, tied to a stump by a stream, the horse they stole from the stables neighed. Gihada grit her teeth. She didn’t dare look at Caeli yet. Her companion and friend was always the first to feel worry or fret. Gihada had to keep composure.

“You hear that?”

“Sounds like a horse!”

“Your luck it’ll be a mule.”

“Oy Oy, t’ain’t that bad mate. Means someone’s close by. Ginick, see to the horse.” Dono nodded in the direction of the neigh, and Ginick clucked his tongue and unsaddled from his own tawny, leading the war mount through the underbrush beyond the girls. He snapped his fingers and two of the others followed, fanning out into the copse.

Leaving three including Dono at the roadside. Gihada looked to Caelistis and reached for the fellow adolescent’s hand. A small squeeze, a nod. Just like Grandfather taught her. Reassure the troops, maintain an aura of confidence even when there was less bravery than could fill a thimble.

The gods wouldn’t protect them if they refused to protect themselves. But Tuulu on the move? Grandfather’s best warrior, the Champion of House Kierkegarde and Gihada’s personal combat tutor was far more deadly than the guards.

Another neigh and the scuffling of hooves hit Gihada’s ears. They’d reached the horse… Gihada snapped up with her sword, a clumsy upward slash cessating one of the three remaining guards from the waist. He fell with a gurgle, body falling in two. Mounting the horse’s saddle, she kicked its’ withers and charged Dono during the commotion.

“Feckin’she’s here! Oy!” Dono roared. He drew his sword and his horse reared, cleaving at the ground. The horses charged, too well trained to ignore their mounted riders’ commands. Gihada thrusted. Dono slashed.

One left, who dismounted and searched the undergrowth with his spear.

@Caelistis no Elani
 
Oh no. The distant neigh of a horse surely signaled their impending doom. Gihada, as expected, laid there strong. She saw no fear in her friend, despite the fear plastered on Caelistis face. Sure, the soldiers refused to talk to her at the Estate. Her old home, if it could be called that.

But she didn’t think they’d actually hunt her down to kill her.

She never would understand why Kierkegarde-sama hated her so. Or why anyone at the estate did, really. But this was no time to think about such things.

She squeezed Gihada’s hand in return. Caelistis knew what she was about to do and simply mouthed a quick, “Be careful.”

This would be her chance to get her bow and some arrows off her back. With the commotion caused by Gihada, she had the opportunity, although it took her a moment and with the cost of noise. The only problem was she held a huge amount of their belongings – partially so Gihada had flexibility with her armor and partially because the belongings acted as a fail-safe armor for Caelistis.

Dono and Gihada were about to wage a war on horseback while a man with a spear came for Caelistis. The soldier heard and was working his way over, stabbing at the brush with his spear. It was difficult, but Caeli managed to get on her side and load her arrow on the string of her bow.

The whistle of wind around the arrow as it struck the soldier right below his voice box but slightly above the collarbone. Cough, sputtering, as he pulled the arrow out – only leading even closer to his demise.

Caelistis knew this was her opportunity to get the other guard. She chose a hopefully smarter option - she prepared another arrow to be shot – she couldn’t get an aim on Dono without it simply bouncing off his armor but perhaps when the other man came back she could get him through a crack like the other guard who was likely taking his last breaths. Just maybe.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
The shock of the arrow’s aim caused the soldier to yank Caeli’s arrow. His death shot back with more noise, Ginick rushing back from the neighs of the horse.

“Oy what’s i-there she is! Shoot her!” The two footsoldiers with Ginick rushed, one with a hardwood club and the other with a bow and knocked arrow of his own. Gihada’s borrowed horse clove at the ground. Caelistis was on her own.

The first clang of swords dashed Gihada’s chance of thrusting between the thick plate and the leather of Dono’s breastplate. The elder swordsman parried and swung, slicing at Gihada’s back as her horse continued forward. She clung to the reigns and yanked. The horse reared and turned clumsily under her control as Dono was already turned and charging.

“Feck!” Gihada swore, rushing in the saddle to urge the horse. It brayed and clopped, righting round in time for the young warrioress to get her sword up for a parry. Dono thundered down on her sword, teeth grit and eyes dimmed by a familiarity with combat. Her grip on the reigns faltered. The horse bucked at the unfamiliar rider.

Gihada leapt from the saddle and tackled Dono in a foolhardy and uneducated motion. It took the man off-guard, spilling him and Gihada off horseback to the ground. They landed with heavy blows, Gihada’s elbow digging into his stomach. She scrambled, reaching for her sword, which fell out of her hand.

“Feckin’pointy eared.. stop strugglin’whelp!” Dono clawed at her waist and the straps of leather holding her one pauldron on, attempting to lock an arm, press her down while the others dealt with the half-breed criminal.

The one Kierkegarde-sama wanted dead.

“Oy, oy stop struggling, it’s for yer own preservation, girl! Feth if Kierkegarde-sama didn’t say what condition of ‘alife’ you’d be in when she got you back.” Dono wrestled the lighter woman, and Gihada barked out, missing her sword by inches.

But not the rock, which rested near. Turning in his hands, Gihada struck Dono with the rock in the face. She struck and struck.

“Caeli, shoot them! Shoot them in the face!”

@Caelistis no Elani
 
If it hadn’t been for the constant run, the hunting throughout her life, she may would have felt worse over the murder of someone. Even if they tried to kill her, it was still a life. Maybe he had a family.

But, her own life came first. And that of Gihada. The rest didn’t matter, no. “Oh no, oh no,” she whispered as she began to crawl up, so she could get a better aim. Panic began to set in as the nauseous from the stress overwhelmed her. “Shit,” she muttered as she shot one arrow – which while hit, it reflected off the armor of the archer.

She scrambled up to her feet to find a better position as an arrow flew by – narrowly missing her cheek. She needed to be in a position to run. Mud, grime, at least the worst of which slid off her dress as she stood. A quick glance to Gihada, as she saw the girl take down Dono onto the ground from the horse.

Another shot of her bow which, miraculously, landed through the man’s chest. He toppled down onto the ground with loud groans of pain. He probably wouldn’t die but at least he was crippled. The other two men were coming upon Caelistis faster than she realized. How was she going to get them both? Panic. Caelistis wasn’t a fighter – she cooked. And cleaned. And served. How was she going to get Gihada away? Herself?

A familiar voice snapped her out of her paralyzed fear. She aimed the arrow and let the arrow fly into Ginick – it landed in between the man’s eyes, his large body crumpling over itself as it ran.

"Goddess, keep my arrow straight," she whispered in thanks.

There was one more man standing, that she knew of, but it was too late to be able to aim and shoot her bow. He was upon her, ready to beat her to death with the club. She tried to run away, but he managed to grab her by her shoulder which pulled her back. The bags she carried fell, or spilled into the dirt padded road. A hairy arm wrapped around her neck and crushed in, blocking her ability to breath.

She tried to stomp on his feet and elbow him in the gut but ultimately just bruised herself over the metal armor, “H-help,” she choked out.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
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Gihada struck and struck. Don’t growled with a snap of his neck. He fell atop her, as she kicked and kicked her way out. Grabbing her sword, Gihada chased into the thicket with a rumbling grunt.


Caelistis cried for help. Sweet Caelistis, her only friend. There were acquaintances at Kierkeborg, or those Grandmama demanded she get close to for political or economic means, but friends?


All tutors kept her at distance. All servants treated Gihada according to her station as the Heir Apparent, or suffered Kierkegarde-Sama’s wroth. There were moments where Tuulu would be kind. Offer her a hand up, when in his training he beat her to the ground, saddle her horse when they were due to ride... but now he was chasing them, too.


Caelistis was the only friend Gihada had. The young elf would battle to the end for her one and only friend.


Gihada’s sword was true. The soldier’s head left his body. Her sword dropped to the ground. Gihada stumbled into Caelistis, panting.


“Are you wounded? Are you?! We have to go!” Holding a hand to her side, Gihada dropped to her knees and began shoving their possessions into the satchels. The Heir of House Kierkegarde crawled through the moss and mud to grab a hunting knife off the dead, coin purses from the wounded.. anything they could use.


Dono quivered. It wouldn’t be long.


“Horse! Where’s the horse?”


@Caelistis no Elani
 
Caelistis felt the life beginning to leave her body. She tried to get air, but the henchmen held firm. The spots flashing across her line of sight only confirmed that she was moments away. She’d die, and Gihada would be captured, forced back into Kierkegarde-Sama evil clutches.

But in a moment, she felt his grip loosen and he subsequently fell. His head rolled as her feet regained. She coughed, heavily, as she regains her breath. Gihada had stumbled on her, and she wrapped her best friend in her arms. A moment to breath, for both of them. They didn’t have time, so she released as soon as they both could stand without each other.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, are you?” She asked, her breath still heavy. She saw her best friend beating a man in the head with a rock, she only hoped her armor proved strong enough.

Gihada was on her knees gathering as much as she could.

She shook her head as she began to steal coins from the men and snatched her arrows back. She glanced at the quivering Dono. They were out of time. She dropped to her knees as she pulled as much of their items the bags herself, only increasing the tears in her dress. Coins, soaps, salted foods, waterskins, the furs from various animals they have eaten. Anything that could prove valuable and needed.

They wouldn’t be able to get everything, but they got a lot back. “We got to go, he’s wakin’ up,” she said in panic. She reached down to help Gihada up from the mossy dirt and stones. “We need to put the stuff on the horses, yeah,” she said as she ran over towards the horses. They were spooked from the commotion, but Caelistis managed to calm them and drive them with the reigns. She quickly grabbed as much as she could and throw it onto their backs.

They didn’t have time to tie it down, so they’d have to run. At least a horse could catch a pretty penny.

With Gihada in tow, she began to run towards the other horse along with guiding the current horses through their reigns. “We’s us will have three horses,” she said as she glanced back towards the mostly still out but slowly waking man. “Tuulu will know about this soon, he’ll be here befores we know it.”

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
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Caelistis’ arms held her aloft in the post-fight rush jittering through her limbs. The embrace was as short as their time, hours before the sun dissipated for the moon, but not long enough to get them far before nightfall. She looked at the shadows through the trees. Lengthening.

Gihada scooped up what she could from clumsy fingers.

“If he isn’t already in the trees.” Gihada glanced through the copse of trees. He could be on them in seconds, or come upon the thicket hours after the sun descended. Sliding around the moss, Gihada shoved as much as she could in the panniers on the war mount, guiding it toward the pony they stole from the last battle. A pack pony would do them well, “We’ll do better without over-ladening the horse.”

Leaving the horse by a Caeli and a tree, Gihada yanked the quiver off the archer. He, she recognized from Kierkeborg. A drunkard, if she recalled. The arrows looked fairly undamaged, but Caeli would be a far better judge.

“You’ll never get away. She will never let you go.” Ginick grimaced, pushing to his hands and knees, one hand clutching his chest. Gihada rushed forth and kicked him in the jaw. The man fell back to the moss panting, but stunned.

“Enough of that, shall we?” Rushing back to her friend and confidante, Gihada picked Caeli up and set her on the war mount. He was a mighty stallion, given to buck and rear. For a moment Gihada worried the horse might overpower her smaller, daintier friend… but survival was a most powerful motivator. “Ride hard. I’ll catch up. Go!”

The trees round her moved with her voice, a ripple in the air like water after a stone’s throw. Gihada slapped the haunches of the horse, to send the mount and its’ charge further on.

“Ride. Ride on.” Gihada rushed to the wounded Dono and tugged him off the road, into the underbrush with the other groaning men. She tugged at a pouch on his belt, yanking the precious leather off him and stuffing it in her leather chest plate. The fur cape was the last of her grabs, hitched to the pack horse before a rustle in the trees met her with the surge of amber eyes.

Gihada leapt onto the war mount she’d taken off her first kill and holding firm to both sets of reins, urged the horse on.

A figure stood from the shadows of the copse. A man draped in black and green leather, and the fur of a mighty wolf he once killed when Gihada was young.

“Yah! Yah!!” Gihada slapped the horse with her belt, goading it toward her goal of catching up with Caelistis, who sadly had less time on horseback than Gihada and Kierkegarde-sama’s many rigorous lessons.

@Caelistis no Elani
 
If Caelistis could actually feel herself without the motivation of trying to stay alive, the aches and pains from the constant walking and running itself would be enough to topple her over. Let alone the fights, the near misses, and the likelihood that they would be caught.

Caelistis nervously glanced at the trees and she tried to hear the sound of nature. It did not call back. “Gods, he probably heard all of this commotion.” The commotion, the clashes, the loud neighs from the horses, likely could be heard for a ways down the road and back. Gods only knew how many heard and who they might be telling, including their lords. Every House in Mystmarch probably knew by now – the criminal Caelistis and the run-away Heir Gihada.

She gave a little nod as she carefully, and as fast as possible, rearranged the items on the horses to the pony.

Caelistis shook her head as the stronger, more trained Gihada placed her on the war horse. “Lady Gihada,” the formality sometimes slipped out in moments of stress, mostly due to the conditioning that abusive and brutal Kierkegarde-sama had put her through, “I… I cannot, how? I do not… I have only fed the horses, I’ve never rode one,” She whispered, her eyes were wide with even more gnawing fear and anxiety. How long could either of them live like this? She nervously took hold of the reigns. A smack, a loud neigh from the horse, and off he went. The nervous and timid Caelistis barely held onto the reigns, her skin flushing white as the trees flew by.

In truth, the horse mostly ran by itself and Caelistis just hanged on for her life.

She glanced back and saw Gihada riding but the distance was fading. What if something happened to her? She wasn’t near her, now. She couldn’t help… And did she see someone step out of the bushes? Was it him? She would have to ask, but later, as she tried to line the horses up on the path. Her eyes stung - despite the terribleness of her life, at least it was stable. This, this was overwhelming, terrifying, and she just didn't know what to do in truth.

They had to get off the island, somehow. That was the only way out.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
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“The mount will guide you. Keep him pointed to the road, he’ll stay upon it. Hold your feet in the stirrups. Ride! If you panic, hold to the horse’s neck, if you fall, push away and roll to the side, not behind.” It was the only lesson she could give, while setting Caelistis upon the mighty steed more suited to battle than a maiden’s first solo ride.

If only… if only somehow she’d been taught to ride.

As Caelistis diminished to a speck, Gihada turned in her saddle. There, crouched upon the road was Tuulu. Her Grandfather’s most trusted warrior and hunter.

Gihada spurred the horses on, loosening her hold on the pack pony, so the poor creature could slack on her speed. By the time she dared look back, Tuulu was neither on the road, nor was his horse.

This road was banked by thick brush and forest on either side, before the open plain ahead. Gihada chose it to bottleneck any usurping riders, it being a game of dismounting and guiding a horse through such thick growth.

She came upon Caeli and her horse soon after ducking her head down and galloping on. Rushing alongside, Gihada blessed their luck that the mounts upon which Dono and his band rode were trained in the Castle stables. They were, more than average horses, trained to run abreast of each other.

She reached and grabbed Caeli’s reins, choking up to slow the horses down to a less hectic speed.

“Tuulu was behind us. I lost him in the trees. We have to ride hard through the open plain to the port… the port…” Gihada grimaced as she reached for the leather bag she stole from Dono, producing a rare and precious item of metal and glass. His compass.

“It was north of the wood… if I read the map corr-Caeli, the map! The map! I think it slid out of my bodice during the fight!” There was nothing for it. They would have to ride through the open plains toward the port.

“Did you see it? We... we dare not go back, but maybe a village. There should be a village. What do we do? Ride to a village, or heave on to the port?”

@Caelistis no Elani
 
Keep him pointed. Caelistis reheard those words over and over as the horse ran at the most frightening speed. She had no idea how to stop it. If she fell off, she’d have to roll. Somehow. But her feet where already in the stirrups! How would she get them out if she fell?

Her only luck was how well trained the war mount was. It knew to go straight unless told otherwise. It knew how to stop and turn. Granted, it simply followed the path with minor force from Caelistis.

But, she still had no idea how to stop the dang horse.

It didn’t matter, though – the path narrowed, brush quickly was enclosing. Panic yet again gripped the ever-worried woman. How was she going to get off this thing? But like the Gods answered itself, she heard the horse steps of Gihada. A breath of relief exhaled from the young woman on the horse. They had made it, yet again. It was too close, though. Both of them almost lost.

Gihada, her freedom. Caelistis, her life. Gihada managed to slow the horse Caeli was on down. And Caelistis couldn’t have been more thankful.

The bad news, though, was that Tuulu was hot on their trail. “He will track us. It is but a matter of time… We have to get off the isle. We are his prey… And he is a masterful hunter,” she said quietly as her hands continued to grip the reigns tightly. But then, worse news: the map was gone. Likely lost during the fight, they no longer had a map. Caelistis blood drained yet again from her face.

Right when she thought her lively skin might turn to normal, another obstacle. They had to get to the port, the port was the only way out. “The port… We have to get to the port. If we stop… Kierkegarde-sama likely has all the Houses on alert, or at least threatened. I… I do not know, will a village even be safe?”

Caelistis was not one for making decisions like these. Life or death. Slavery or freedom. How was she to decide? She chose nothing of her fate except that night – that night when her and her best friend, Gods bless her, ran. “I… The port is safest. If we can catch a boat… If... A village might…” She stumbled over her words as she tried to figure out what the best situation might be.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
“He appeared on foot… it buys us some length of daylight, but I could have been wrong.”

The Heir of House Kierkegarde shook her head. It was the only answer she had of whether a village could give solace or sword. The port, then.

“The wood to our south… we should hit the sea by going north’ard… and if not… we hit the shore and try one way then the other until we reach the storm port. Can you ride longer? If we can keep a firm canter on the plains, we could be graced with luck and hit the port as the sun fades.” Gihada remembered her Grandmama’s words. There were those graced by the gods with skill and potential, and others whose lives were meant to the comforts of simple living. Servants were simple folk, given to cook, and darn and clean and build under order of those whose capacities were of greater understanding.

Could Caelistis ride the horse? Maybe the pack pony would be better suited… but a war mouth without a rider was a surly beast… no. Grandpapa trusted Caelistis to learn and grow. He trusted all, whose value was dictated by passion and desire. Grandmama was wrong. A vestige from her adolescent years in the east.

“Raise your backside off the saddle, when the horse is moving fast. Use your thighs and legs to keep you a bit up and forward. It will hurt less. If it gets too much, pull back on the reins, like this. The horse will slow. Remember, in his eyes, you’re the larger beast.” The eyes of a horse were curious lenses, distorting and wide.

Tapping the compass, Gihada waited to see its’ needle equalize before spurring her mount and the pack pony, tied to her saddle, trotted on. She could start slower, help Caeli… spur the horses on slowly from trot to pace. Kierkegarde horses were rare beasts, given to more usual gaits than the others on the island. It was with these rare breeds that the House Kierkegarde built its’ original fame and power. To have three such horses in their possession was a blessing and danger in equal measures.

Pushing forth along the trail, Gihada set the compass back under her cloak and spurred on to a faster gait upon the opening of the plains.

“We can make it… Just a little farther, Caeli.” Ears twitching and eyes in constant search, Gihada continued to check behind and around them. “Oy, at least we’re not walking, eh? There’s a mercy if ever was one.”

Throwing on a smile, Gihada looked over to her confidante and friend. Was it foolish of her, running with a servant against the oppression of her grandmother? Many would be right in assuming it was. Yet, as the compass needle pointed and quivered so too did Gihada’s heart quiver to aide Caelistis. Born the same year, with mystery shrouding their parents, she felt at least with Caeli, she was not the lone star in a sky devoid of siblings or cousins.

As the sun lowered, Gihada refused to admit how sore her legs became. If she was suffering, how much more was Caeli, unfamiliar with riding at all? Stars began to peek through the vault of sky, as the sound of the sea hit Gihada’s pointed ears.

She slowed the horses to a walk, and rested her legs. “See? We covered amazing distance. There’s no way he’s on us before night, now.”

Lights on the horizon. A tavern? Had they gone the right course? Gihada chewed on her lower lip in refusal to display the uneasiness she had with their choice in direction.

@Caelistis no Elani
 
On foot. They had time, then. Perhaps this was one of his horses? Maybe they had taken one of his and so… Caelistis didn’t really know what she was thinking. Her heart beat so fast in her chest, she was sure it was to give out at any moment. How much longer could their bodies handle? Her eyes, weak, watched Gihada as she thought about their next move.

Naturally, Caelistis shook her head rapidly, somewhat speechless. No, she could not ride more. She wasn’t meant to be on a horse, let alone a war horse! She barely understood how to control the damning beast, let alone just riding it. “I’m not…”

This wasn’t what she was supposed to do, her entire life had been taught not to do this. But… Did that really matter now? A madwoman wanted her dead. Gihada believed in her. Sweet Gihada, who gave it all up to help her… Perhaps it would have been better if Caelistis just turned herself in. Gihada would at least have a comfortable bed, money, and lavish meals. No freedom but perhaps she’d be married into a House that valued it. The Houses of Mystmarch were quite various, after all. “Are you sure…” She whispered quietly, mostly in an undeclared question of – was it worth helping her?

Of course, not all of it was about Caelistis – there was the mystery of Gihada’s parents, which perhaps could be investigated and found out. And her own, of course.

But, it seemed she had no choice. Gihada gave her instructions, which she whispered in an attempt to remember such with a terrified look upon her face.

How many hours had they been riding? Her legs burned with a passion she had never felt before. Her eyes stung from the intense pain, but suffering was her entire life. Gihada mentioned that, at least they weren’t walking. That was true which brought a small nod but an honest admission: “I’m not sure I can hold on much longer.”

But alas, there was a light on the horizon. The horses walked. The sound – and smell of the sea hit Caelistis senses. Or she could only assume that the smell was that. The idea that they finally may be able to spot gave Caelistis the motivation to keep going, “Come. We’ll never know if we don’t’ go,” and she carefully began to make the war horse turn into a trot.

They came up to the building – lights flickered. Her hope began to diminish at the realization it was neither the port nor a tavern or even a place they could secretly sleep. The light turned out to be a shack along with an extremely old Elven man with a torch that stood outside. Perhaps no one else was there? Or maybe an old wife hid inside.

“Who’re ye goons?! Scat! Scat! Go away!” He yells while he shakes a walking stick at the two girls while also charging up to the war mounts. The horses, looking for clues from their riders, became nervous at the yelling. Caelistis glanced towards Gihada in panic, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t’ permitted to talk, right? Not until she was offered to speak. Either case, Caelistis wasn't sure if she could go much longer. The ache and pain she felt over her body, in her legs, were tremendous.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
“You can, Caelistis. You have to, or we’ll die.” A tough turn for the young elf. She used the same voice Tuulu used, or any of her tutors, who treated her with the harsh end of the indomitable will of her grandparents. There was no failure, only the destruction of all under House Kierkegarde. If Gihada did not accomplish the goals set by her betters, all would be lost. The pressure was often insurmountable, but Gihada was the Scion of the House. She could not fail. If she was strong, Caelistis would be, too.

She had to be, or all was lost. The truth clung to Gihada like her moist, moss-ridden clothes: she knew a great deal of things, but life? Cooking, tending wounds, the hunt of small game? How folk functioned? She knew without Caeli, Gihada would survive nought but days before having to go back. Gihada needed Caelistis as much as Caelitis needed her.

“We walk. Rest your legs, lean on the horse’s neck a bit, he’ll hold you. Let the reins relax.” Gihada blinked away the tears of pain in her own eyes, and trotted forward, taking Caeli’s reins and slowing the horses to a walk for some time. Reins tucked under her knee, Gihada took a bundle from the pack horse, and unfurled it to reveal a warm and dry fur cloak. She tossed it around Caeli, tucking it round her and doing up the bronze latch to secure it to her.

“There. Do not lose the latch. It’s Kierkegarde’s crest… you are my Lady in Waiting. My personal companion. Keep quiet, unless you can answer with confidence.” The shack leaned on the side, a once proud structure close enough to the sea to be the home of a ship builder, or fisherman. Odds were from the out building Gihada could barely make out in the dark, he was some form of craftsman. She glanced to Caelistis, and handed her the pack horse’s reins.

Clicking her tongue, Gihada charged forward with her steed and came within striking distance of the elder man.

“You would strike the Heir of House Kierkegarde and her Maid? We make for the port. After being beset by brigands on the road lost our way. The hour is late and my horses tire. We have provisions and goods to give in exchange. Allow us bed and board for the night, stable for our horses, and you will be compensated richly.” The gamble set, Gihada kept her bearing as high as her grandmother moving through the lands. Folk wanted orders, she’d said. They wanted to know the safety of boundary and rule, as much as the natural order dictated to the creatures upon the Stormy Isles.

“Elani, lead the horses to the stable.” Gihada did not know what possessed her to use Caelistis’ mother’s name, but for the quiver on the elderly man’s face, she maintained a hope it hadn’t been a mistake.

‘Please let this be it.’

@Caelistis no Elani
 
Caelistis heard Gihada’s words and it resonated with her. If they didn’t… She would die. And if Gihada wanted to keep her freedom, she would have to hide. While Caelistis couldn’t do the things Gihada could do. Ride horses (at least not well), be charismatic, play the ‘game’, and so forth.

They were a team and for Gihada, she had to be strong. She had to be stronger, despite what Kierkegarde-sama had told her throughout her life.

When Caelistis touched her feet on the ground, her legs gave out for a moment. She fell to the ground with a groan in pain, her muscles betraying her. A couple tears escaped her eyes as she used the horse as a way to help herself back up. For a maid, a handmaiden, her dress had been ruined. For someone who had to be meticulously cleaned and dressed before dawn, it was killing her.

Seconds later, Gihada wrapped a fur cloak around her. She gave a nod. Lady in Waiting. Don’t answer unless it is confidently. She could do that, but alas she had to use most of her energy on making her sore body move forward. She took the reins of the horses and leaned against the horse.

The old man yelled again as he reached in front of the horses. He knew well who’s horses those belonged to. And he knew very well the quiet girl should not have been riding one. He had put his walking stick back down though, using it. He stood right in front of Gihada’s face.

“Who are ye, trespassing on me and me wife’s land?” He was an angry looking old man but there was something in his eyes. Something Caelistis couldn’t quite gather yet.

“Hrmph, attacked by brigands, eh? Is that why both of yer faces are on the bounties in the town?” Was there a slight… Amusement, in his voice? A twinkle in his eyes. “Damn elf land, infiltrating ours. Ada whateverherface.” The old man huffed as he turned around and started walking back to his shack. “MIRNA! We got ye some company. Little elf girls, from those bastard Kie-whatever-garde’s. You remember? Those elf land tryin’ to infiltrate our Mystmarch! Poor girl are refugees, one’s even the granddaughter.”

He looked over his shoulder as an old elven woman walked out of the shack, washing a dish with a cloth in her hand. “Well, are ye two lassies comin’? We can help ye out for a wee bit, I s’poses.” Mirna, his old wife, quickly put her dishes away and ran over to the girls. “Oh my deary, Gods bless both of ye. So tired. Who’s done tried to strangle you, girl? Hmmm… You look quite familiar. Almost like a young gal’ who passed by, what, how many years ago now, dear?” She asked as she used her hand to Caelistis face up, yelling off to her husband.

Next, she went over to inspect Gihada, “Hmm, I bet ye got bruises and scratches everywhere. Didn’t get stabbed, did ye?” She asked as she looked over Gihada. "We'll get Marcius to fix this armor right up, he will."

“Well, c’mon, it’s not everyday me husband lets me have company. We’ll get you a tidied up, a good meal in your belly. I have just the ointments to help with your bruises and sores.” Mirna began to usher both girls into the shack as she nervously looked about – she knew someone would be out for them. But, her and her husband knew a bullshit bounty when they saw it. And boy, did they know.

The old man took hold of the reins and brought them to the stables, out back which was slightly hid.
 
Gihada stared down the elder elf, as he rattled on about her House. The noble house of Kierkegarde was one of pride and standing. It was no ancient squire made noble by a single act, but one of the Mystmarch Council’s shining stars.


‘A bit of tarnish on the star, but buff it up, it’ll shine true.’ Llyr’s soft-spoken way washed over his granddaughter, not days before she left. Not all Kierkegarde were evil or misled. The tarnish would wipe clean.


Somehow, amidst the mud and torn leather, Gihada remained regal as she dismounted the steed. Caelistis fell to the ground, overcome by the travels and dangers. Perhaps Gihada’s neglect to help her ‘handmaid’ appeared cold.


“I am Gihada Adetokunbo Kierkegarde. Only daughter of Anita Nuith Kierkegarde, Heir to the Council seat held by Sir Llyr Adetokunbo Kierkegarde, vanquisher of the Kraken, Hero of the Battle of Tar’hallr. The bounty is salacious, but not without ne’er do wells attempting to take what isn’t theirs. They were little match for the Scion of Llyr Kierkegarde.” Confidence in all things. Stand tall, even on unsure footing. Strike first, with word or sword.


Mrina bumbled through her dishes, a kindly woman from first glance. Dragging her body to the threshold, Gihada leaned against the wall to feel a sting on her back. “Familiar... you... you knew a woman like her? When? Do you remember when?”


The elder elf cane closer to Gihada than any but Caelistis or their enemies had gotten in some time. Gihada’s lips were drawn tight, skin pale and laden with sweat. Upon closer inspection, as Gihada peeled back her fur cloak and scant pieces of armour, wounds and welts seeped upon the linen beneath leather and metal. Pressure wounds from the armour. A slash through leather and fur. Blood, caked. Flesh swollen and yellow. Green eyes dulled, shoulder leaning against the wall. She set her hand on Mrina’s arm, shaking her head against alerting the others.


“Just scrapes and bruises to my pride.” Gihada mumbled. “Thank you for your hospitality. We have goods. We can trade.”


Her body tilted. She looked to Caelistis. “Attend to her first, please.”


Hopefully when Caelistis got attended to, she’d fall asleep before Gihada got sewn up.


@Caelistis no Elani
 
Old man Marcius didn’t care for the Yamatatatata in the East. One day, the Confederacy will take the land and drive the menace from their isles. It was clearly a war of ideal – the oppression from the East versus the choices in the West. Marcius knew that the heir of Kierkegarde might defend her House.

But considering she was on the run just like her little handmaiden, he assumed she wouldn’t be so brainwashed. “Yeah, yeah. Plenty o’ other Houses on that Council. One’s that weren’t born on the elf lands. What’s the Council do for me? Not a damn thing, girl,” he muttered as he huddled the horses behind into the stable.

In truth, the man saw the spirit in the young woman – not that he’d admit it. Meant for great things, Kierkegarde or not, he confirmed. At least, if she didn’t die from her wounds.

Mrina, though, was much more concerned with Gihada’s condition than Caelistis. Gihada had mortal wounds – Caelistis was just bruised up. But, alas, the heir chose to hide her pain to her companion.

Caelistis herself was too sore to really notice much. Barely able to walk, the poor girl meekly followed behind. But, the mention of a woman perked her brow with curiousity. “A woman?! How long? She… She looked like me? Do you know where she went?” Caelistis’s eyes were wide with wonder. She glanced to Gihada as if the whole world had turned around. Maybe they would find her ‘mother’ and find out why? Maybe?

Mrina missed the curiosity but did see saw the energy in both the girls – they needed each other, complimented each other. Lots like family would. It was quite strange for an heir to be trying to save a maid, though. That was what tickled the old couple. “Oh yessie, it was oh… Marcius remembers better than my batty mind,” as Mirna continued to take a look at Gihada. She held onto Gihada as she touched her arm. She only gave a nod. “Girl, go out back and clean yourself up. There’s a bucket, a bar of soap, and a gown.”

As Caelistis weakly nodded and began to slowly walk towards the back, Mrina took Gihada inside the old couples shack.

The shack was actually quite large – a large, living area with a fairly decent sized kitchen. To the side was two bedrooms, although with no doors. One use to house their 4 kids, and still had 4 bunk beds in it. The other held the old couple’s rooms and belongings. Mrina sat Gihada down on a bench that was against the wall. She began to slowly, carefully take the broken pieces of armor until Mrina had full access to examine the poor girl’s broken and bruised body. “Tsk, tsk… Sir Llyr should’s taken better of you, indeed he should’ve. Weak man never should have let that Ada run all over,” she muttered.

“Don’t you worry about trades, we will discuss first thing in the morn’. We need to sharpen you up first. That water is still nice and warm out yonder, so I'm sure ye friend will take her time. And don't you worry, I'll make sure ye get a nice warm bath tonight too.” She reached towards a nearby cabinet as she pulled several ointments in glass jars, a sewing needle, and some string. She gave the girl a piece of wood to bite down on.

Marcius, at this point, had reentered the room. “The other girl is cleanin’ herself, told her once she's done to come on in for a hot meal. I’ll find some spare dresses and clothes of the sort for ‘em.” Mrina replied, “Thank you, darlin’, what about that girl from way back when?”

Marcius was already in the old girls’ room, digging around for their old clothes. “Huh? Oh that ole’ maid from Kierkegarde? It was right after their girl Anita passed, what.. 40 some odd years now? Goddess keep her. Looks smack dab like the other girl, except she’s an elf! Girl said that elf lander was gunna kill her dead,” he said.

Mrina had already begin cleaning Gihada’s wounds with a hot rag from the boiling water next to her. “Honey, we’ll need to refit some of these armor for this girl. Look at all these wounds. I don’t know what was killin’ her more, the brigands or the armor itself,” she muttered as the hot rag rubbed dried blood and yellow away from a slash through her skin.

Marcius laid some clothes down – a few options, ranging from a dress to a shirt and trouser next to Mrina and Gihada. “I bet the maid will go for the dress. And here's a dress for ye, too, but there was some trousers if that's your like." The old man could tell Gihada preferred her armor, after all, "I gots to get the fish in, I’ll be back. I’ll work on that armor there for you, girl, in the morn’,” he muttered as he began to walk out of the shack and towards the nearby sea.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
“You speak of that which you do not know. Only Ada was born in the elfin lands. A bride bartered as part of an initiative of reconciliation. House Kierkegarde is as old as the isles.” The Eastern Elves were a cautious and puritanical breed, from all Gihada could glean from the few words spoken by others outside Ada’s ears.

One woman did not dismantle an entire House’s history. Not if Gihada could find the truth and return, adult and righteous, with a view of lands seen by her own eyes, not explained through the mouthpieces of her tutors.

At her companions questions concerning the woman who passed through, Gihada could only carry a mute concern. Could but share the widened express and desire for further knowledge. Caelistis left for the outside promise of a bath and a gown, and Gihada stumbled to the bench.

“The armour isn’t mine. It protects well enough, but the pauldron is beginning to wound me. He’s not… you wouldn’t understand.” Voice a whisper, Gihada’s tongue was numb in her mouth. She leaned heavily against the side of the bench, oily hair clinging to her neck and scabbing in with a wound. “Caeli would get worried… she ought not be worried.”

Wood pursed between her teeth, Gihada bared her back. Scars dotted her skin, in various modes of repair. Training accidents, the lot. As Mrina set to the wound, fabric stinging against her skin, Gihada grunted and a loose whinny echoed out of her lips. The liquid in the tincture bottles quivered. Fabric rustled, a slight concussive puff pressing on those inside. Taking the wood from her mouth, Gihada gripped it hard in her hand.

“Th-thank you. I’d have the trousers, if you please. Easier to ride. Caeli, she’s… she’s never ridden solo but for today… that woman, the girl who looks like my Maid… if it’s the same, she was to tend my mother. All I know is my mother Anita was smothered in her sleep, and the girl ran. But if she was here… do you remember which direction she went? I know none of what happened to my parents, and wish to discover such for myself.” Four decades was but a flash for those of their kind whose age ran hundreds of years. Maybe… maybe they would remember. “I can help… the fish or the armour, I can…”

Gihada stuck the wood in her mouth. She bit down harder, shutting her eyes. Her back muscles bucked and knees rose to her chest. Harder to see an adult in their kitchen this way, Gihada was showing her adolescent age.

Eyes shut tight, Gihada hugged her knees as Mrina worked. Knowing Caelistis’ predilections for tidiness, it would be a mercifully long bath.

@Caelistis no Elani
 
Mrina paused her dabbing with the smallest of chuckles. “One moment,” she whispered as she went and got a hairtie to pull Gihada’s hair into a very tight bun. There, she pressed, removing the caked blood and any yellow that had intermingled from the various scars. Mrina chuckled at the girls attempt to explain Kierkegarde to her.

But Mrina did not miss all the scars that dotted her skin. “I’ll give ye this. You are a stubborn gal. If they got rid of that elf land spy and Sir Llyr would take up his rightful places, we might not even have this conversation! That Ada though… A monster, that’s what they say. I’ll leave it at that,” she said with a small nod.

“Hmm, I’m not smithy but my husband Marcius has learned a trick or two. Sure he can shapen it up, some. Perhaps make it fix a bit better, at least so it won’t’ cause ye harm.”

It took several minutes for Mrina to get the blood, grime, and other dirt that had got nestled into Gihada’s wounds. She took a step back as she looked, tsking softly, mostly whispering to herself. “Should be in college learnin’ the world, or preparin’ for ye marriage, not on the run from ye own grandmother,” Mrina knew people weren’t treated well by that Ada, the rumors made it all the way to their little shack by the sea. “Bite down, these’ll burn,” She commanded. She shook her head as she began to carefully rub the various ointments she had into Gihada’s wounds.

They would burn. Meant to cleanse the skin, enhance healing, and reduce scarring. Alowa Paste, Ridilaes Paste, and Gralines Paste. All ingredients located right around here, mashed in a mortar and pestle. One to stop infection, one to enhance healing, and then the last to reduce scarring. Some liked to add a touch of magic – but Mrina learned the price isn’t worth it.

“That girl, out back. She’s a survivor. I sense the magic touch in her, too. Damn shame Ada didn’t capitalize on it. Hmm, I bet she didn’t even give you the chance to have a childhood, did she? So are you, gal. A survivor. Ye will make it, meant for great things. I can feel it and an old woman knows her feelin’.”

Before Marcius left, he left a pair of comfortable trousers and a top for Gihada.

Mrina nodded solemnly. She didn’t exactly like Anita, either, but the woman didn’t deserve death. “Caelistis. First time ridin’, eh? She did an ok job upon a war horse. Crash course, eh? I don’t know what happened to ye mama, Lady Gihada, but I know it wasn’t that weak maid that ran upon my shack those decades ago.” She shook her head; the last bit of paste being applied. She got her sewing needle and the string, “Bite hard,” she whispered.

And then, she began to sow the flesh back together. “That poor girl, she was as short as a donkey, maybe only a hair taller. Didn’t know what to do or say. She had a guilt in her eyes but not one of murder, no, no. Any elf could’ve thrown that human right off, and that’s saying somethin’!” She shook her head with each sow, the string forcing the flesh against each other to heal. “Went to that port, she did. She had to get out. Elbion, but Gods, she may not be there now. May not even be alive.”

“Now, I can tell you the rumors. But rumors are rumors and Kiergeborg is darn far away. Are ye sure you want to hear it?”

Outside, they could hear Marcius rambling about fishes. Looks like he had already gotten the fish out of the cages and brought 'em up. Probably getting them ready to be cooked or salted.

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
“My grandfather lives in silence for good reason. We are blessed and cursed by it.” None would understand unless they too felt the Hyleskrik take hold. Or so her grandparents stated.

“My thanks. It would do me well to have armour which does not scar. I have to get Caeli to Elbion and on… wherever we can find haven… I was in College, for twenty years, but the questions of my parents grew too loud to overwhelm my studies.”

The girl grit her teeth on the wood until it splintered her mouth. Keep contained. Never raise one’s voice in anger or pain. Gihada dug her chin into her knees, each pant another presence in the room. Taunting the air with a threat of uncontained pressure. She heard her grandfather’s voice, a lulling whisper easing her to silence. Her fingers dug into her shins. A pant broke out from her lips hard enough to brush against Mrina’s hand, bat it away. Gihada shut her eyes and breathed until the worst of the sting was over. The needle and thread slid through her skin, suturing the wound shut. Gihada kept her head down and cried.

“Grandpapa saw it. He taught us both to read, snuck books to her, taught her archery. Brought in old healer women as cooks. We were born the same year, orphans both. I must deliver her to Elbion… please if there is any rumour or knowledge you have, I would hear it.”

Gihada listened carefully, mind numbed with the pain of the needle and thread. “All I know is Mother was… she was wounded. Smothered in her sleep.”

@Caelistis no Elani
 
Mrina gave a little nod. The Kierkegarde's where pretty quite, she supposed. Still, she couldn't forgive Sir Llyr for letting Ada take his Council spot, run over the estate, and giving it such a reputation. Well, really, if it wasn't for that elf lander in there... Things wouldn't be as bad up there.

Mrina knew it hurt. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but no gentleness would ever stop the pain of needle and thread through an already open wound. Luckily, Gihada only needed to be sewed up in a couple spots. "Ye're doin' great, dear," she whispered encouragingly as she tied off the thread. Snip, the sound of scissors. There wasn't nothin' to help the pain but a few bottles of liquor. Mrina handed a nearly full one to Gihada.

"Sir Llyr educated her? Well, Gods bless. See? I knew he had a kind heart, wait till I tell Marcius," she said with as she began to stitch the last wound. "Well, this comes from that runaway maid but the whispers from others. Anita, Gods carry her soul, had a big ole' fight with your father. The maid said he did something terrible to Anita, but even I couldn't pry it out of her mouth." Mrina grabbed a lot of bandaging as she began to wrap it around Gihada - mostly to ensure that the ointments continue to soak and to prevent infection. "Some say it was his spirit in revenge. But, he did a doozy on your mama, dear. Beaten to a pulp, worse than you. Most say it was the maid that finished her off, but... I've seen killin' hands. Wouldn't have let her into me home otherwise."

She sighed as she finished wrapping Gihada up. She paused for a moment, "Born around the same time? How old are ye, dear? Anyway, the port isn't far from here. Once ye ready, we'll set ye on your way to the port to get to Elbion." She made Gihada stand up as she gave her one last look over. A little bit of a sad look came across her eyes, "If ye find that ole' maid, crazy hoot wouldn't tell us her name, you tell her she has a home with us. Helped us out more than our own children would. Anywho, ye can go out back to start bathin' and put ye new trousers on. Once you get back, we'll have us a late supper."

Almost as soon as Gihada would leave, Caelistis came in - completely refreshed after an extensively long bath. "Sit, sit. Some soup will be done, shortly, dear." Caelistis, timid and still in immense pain, just sat down on the bench. "Now, you can heal, yes? I'm going to give you some of my ointments. Make sure Gihada's wounds are cleaned every day, in about a week ye will want to remove the stitches. I'll write it down for ye." She said as she warmed the fire under the pot.

Caelistis, in a simple gray gown, nodded and leaned her head against the wall. "Is she okay? I know she is in worse condition than she is letting on..." Mrina chuckled, "Yes, yes, she'll be fine. She's a strong one, cuts and bruises won't tear her down."

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
The bottle’s cork hit Mrina’s floor before the bottle fully left the elderly elf’s hand. Glass to lips, Gihada chugged the liquor with an ability usually reserved for the woefullest of drunks.

“Don’t. Don’t tell him. I shouldn’t have told you as it is. Keep her secret. Say… say I was alone, or… I don’t know, but they will find this place. We’d best be gone when they do.” Gihada stared at the floor as Mrina sewed her up, hearing for the first time the dangers and fatal battle which killed her parents. Whispers passed the storm isles like gossamer upon a fine lady’s skin.

“You let me in your home.” Gihada looked at her hands, one trembling and the other clutched to the bottle. “I’m old enough. I’m… an adult. Old enough to travel by myself and keep my own companions.”

Young eyes flickered through the cabin, as rubbery legs stood. She bundled the clothing up in her arms, bottle still in hand and wobbled out of the hut. Breathing belaboured, Gihada cleaned herself off and dressed, fingers numb, in the trousers and blouse. She hissed getting the fabric over her shoulder, grunted and swore.

She’d given her life to keep Caelistis safe, but never did know why the servant meant so much to her. Yet, it had always been Caelistis… her one friend beyond all others. And now the prospect of being orphaned in a battle between her parents came to her mind.

“Did you kill each other, Mother? Father? For some… slight?” Eyes scanning the bucket of cooling water, Gihada sipped the liquor. “What could make you kill each other, that Grandmama wouldn’t tell me? That Papa would not say?”

The plain stretched beyond the cabin, horses stabled and unladen for the night. Gihada tipped the bucket of dirty water and wiped her hands on themselves, scanning and watching.

Nobody was traversing the plains tonight. There was not enough moonlight to see by, in the treacherous path. It was then Gihada missed Kierkeborg the most. In the quiet without Caeli by her side. Padding to the stable, Gihada walked to the war horse and patted his neck, ensuring each were properly tended. Delving into her saddle bags, Gihada set the leather pouch with Dono’s compass and a few things around her neck, safely hidden under her billowing shirt. She took one of the saddle bags back into the house, setting it down where she intended to sit with the bottle.

“What compensations would you best require? We have furs, salt meat, spices from beyond the storms… I can ensure your wells never run dry and are perpetually sweet of water… although I would need some rest before I did it.” Always pay one’s debts before the stay lost its’ sweetness, Llyr would say. “How are you? You should sit, Caeli… rest your legs, we’ll be off sooner than your muscles would like.”

@Caelistis no Elani
 
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Mrina gave a soft smile to the young woman. She chugged the liquor faster than even Marcius would when she had to stich him up. She was used to, pain, though. Any other soul would have let out a heartbreaking yell with how deep she had to stitch the worst of the wounds.

A quiet, soft chuckle, “Dear, no one is going to know you were here. Those guards came for that ole’ maid, too. Hadn’t a clue. Good thing we’re on a different Estate.” She would have winked but she was back to fixing her wounds.

Old, wrinkled, hands helped the young Gihada up. Mrina stepped in front of her and took her by the cheeks as she looked into her eyes. “Ye may kill, honey, but you have the spirit of a noble. Summin’ fightin’ for what’s right.” She released as she let her go and began to finish up the group’s supper.

Caelistis stared at the fire. She wasn’t sure what to say – or do at this point. Maybe she could just turn herself in. Maybe the Gods would pity her, give her a second life that wasn’t plagued by disappointment. Gihada could go back and beg forgiveness and live her life in luxury again. Caelistis wasn’t worth all this trouble – the hunger, the rare bathes, the living under tents and spending grueling hours walking and riding.

She loved her best friend, more than anything in the world. But Gods damn if she was going to let Gihada ruin her life over a worthless servant.

Marcius was already sitting at the table, waiting to be served by Mrina. Mrina was pouring bowls – 4 total. She placed one in front of Marcius, one next to him, and then two on the other side of the table right as Gihada reentered the room. Marcius huffed, “We’ll discuss it in the morning, yeah? It’s late and me old brain doesn’t quite process it. We do not need some furs, if the storms keep comin’ south, though…” He grunted.

Caelistis walked over to Gihada and carefully hugged her. “My friend, let me turn myself in. I’ll just suffer. It isn’t worth this…” She said quietly as she looked over the bruised, scarred, and broken Gihada. “I’m not worth this, Lady Gihada,” she whispered.

Marcius groaned as he wanted to eat. “Will ye two sit down? We need to pray to the Gods and then, maybe, you can debate your worth to ye friend.”

Gihada Kierkegarde
 
“Thank you. I fear it is your safety I worry out as well. There is one coming after us, my Grandparents’ most dangerous tracker. I saw him on the road. Tuulu, his… his name is Tuulu.” Gihada prepared to run once more. It would be a mercy on the couple, who took them in… but Caelistis needed rest and if Gihada were honest, she was too exhausted and sore to ride.

“Is that what this is? A noble quest? I hope you are correct, my saviour.” Gihada’s youthful eyes searched for meaning, or a crux. Something in Mrina to guide her. She found grace. The permission to experience peace. It would have to do.

The fire was a welcome warmth upon her. One she did not have to help build, or maintain or curl up to without burning herself in the night. She saw Caelistis tending the fire, as Mrina busied in the kitchen. Marcius seated at the table. It was the sort of scene Caeli should have been raised in. The sort of life she would have had, if she hadn’t been orphaned, if her mother hadn’t run away.

If she hadn’t ‘killed’ Anita Kierkegarde… a lie, according to Mrina, whose needle was sure and spirit appeared as honest and revealing as the tide of many calm seas.

“That is enough! Caelistis, you are never to speak like that again. In my presence or any other’s!” Gihada growled, her fist and it’s bottle pointed at her former servant. She drank long from the bottle, until it was dry. “I will never allow such words in my presence. You are worth far more than I can give you, but I hope what I have is enough.”

Easing into the offered seat, Gihada kept her back as straight as her breeding allowed. She ate cautiously, when her instincts were to down the soup without restraint.

“Pardon my raised voice. The day has been long and my fuse is short.” Gihada’s shoulder leaned into her friend. She slowly began to put more and more weight on Caelistis as her head swayed. Pale skin perspired as once brilliant eyes grew dim. “Tomorrow, then. We shall negotiate our stay’s cost in the morrow, while we prepare the horses for our venture to the docks. Do you know what sort of cost could be expected to pass the storms on a stout ship? We have to… t-g… Caeli..”

As she finished her soup, the Heir of House Kierkegarde flopped into her companion, far from lucid. Too much blood was lost in too short a time, for Gihada to keep conscious.

@Caelistis no Elani
 
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