Fate - First Reply Shifting Winds [Eretejva]

[Kol]

He considered her words. A dozen entries over the last moon.

How many people had been taken here? How many had suffered through those shadows? Lips thinned for a brief moment, and he glanced towards one of the grins which seemed to hang within the corner of the room. It watched him, wordlessly, as if waiting for some puzzle to be formed together.

"Some." Kol answered finally. "Though not much."

With a quick few steps he opened one of the trunks, pulling free a few rashers of jerked meat along with some hard tack. It was not exactly a luxurious meal, but one left behind to last. "It will last a day or two, if you're careful."

The Sorcerer said, clearly not intending to eat.

Slowly he stepped forward, crouching down besides her.

"If I may ask." The Sorcerer began as he placed the food before the Witch. "Why did you come here?"

 

[Sigrith]

Sigrith traveled with rations on her at all times, though she did not often carry a surplus. There was no telling just how long they would be caught here or what sort of dangers they may yet face. She needed to eat to heal from her spiritual wounds - at least having something extra was an assurance.

Her color-broken gaze moved to the rations he placed before her and then to the man's own face, studying him silently for a moment.

"I follow the pull of the ether currents," the witch replied, "and the whispers of the wilder." Brows lofting, she narrowed her eyes upon him, shrinking pale blue and green behind heavy kohl, "You smell familiar."

 

[Kol]

Kol mused. "We have not met, to my knowledge."

He had traveled south of the Lost Isles many times, but most of his trips had gone far beyond the Tundra. He had only visited the Frozen lands once or twice before. Each time had been a revelation of a sort, something the Dark Gods had lead him towards.

The Sorcerer was sure it was the same this time.

"Perhaps one of those who travels with me." A grin widened behind Sigrith, shifting closer within the shadowed darkness of the cabin. "An age past when they wandered with someone else."

He was not the first chosen of the Dark Gods after all.

Kol shrugged his shoulders. "They favor us, but their reach does extend beyond the Isles."

The Sorcerer offered by way of explanation.

 

[Sigrith]

She considered what he said for a moment, lingering where she was. Maybe it was not his smell after all that felt familiar, but the presence of his attachments. They'd both been far too saturated by the energies of the confluence that they had been nigh impossible to pick up, but now that they sat in this cabin she had noticed the myriad of ethereal energies shifting about his form. Not so unlike those that followed the coven Mothers, she thought, and even some of the sisters.

"Perhaps," Sigrith issued a slow sigh, thinking that an older and wiser witch might have more to say on the subject. Or further curiosities. Curious though she was, Sigrith was a woman of few questions and open senses.

The fire had taken to a warming glow from where she sat near its edge, "I have healing herbs and tools if you need me to see to your wounds."

 

[Kol]

Kol briefly glanced at the wounds that marred his body, head shaking. "Save them."

The Dark Gods would provide for him, as they always had.

"I suspect this will grow to be much more...troublesome, than it has so far." He mused. "And my wounds will heal."

Piece by piece his patrons had taken his body, so much had fallen by now that he was practically an amalgamation of their will. It was only his mind that kept his ragged body trudging forward, a pale shade of what he had once been.

Slowly he reached over and pulled a stool to Sigrith's side. "Tell me."

He asked.

"What are your people like?" There was genuine curiosity within his tone. "I know little."

The Sorcerer had always been eager to learn. Even without the Dark Gods urging him on Kol had always hungrily devoured knowledge. Every scrap, every little bit he could have. It was as precious to him as gold was to the Southrons.

 

[Sigrith]

While she was not inherently selfish, Sigrith was not remiss to save the supplies for her own needs. Truthfully she had no sound reason to use them on the stranger, but she had and likely would continue to tend to the wounds of others so long as there was a need. In this storm, though, it would be difficult to restore used supplies until she was able to make it to the next settlement.

Indeholm was not a stop she tended to count on. Her welcome into the city oft depended upon the mood of the guards at the gates. Sigrith took up the rations he'd deposited near her and set them upon the bricks lining the fire to warm and thaw. Wouldn't do to break a took on a frozen piece of jerk.

"My people..." Sigrith's tone was not without a hint of bite, "I do not have a people. I am a witch, nothing more or less."

 

[Kol]

Kol mused over the words for a few seconds. "So you make your way alone through the Tundra?"

The thought did not sound too dissimilar from his own life.

He had been rejected by his parents from early life. His father an absent raider, his mother a less than useless craven that had never cared for any of her children. His siblings had either left, or simply died before he'd ever reached his tent name day.

Kol had spent most of his life seeking, searching, until the Dark Gods had called him to his blooding.

Since then he had wandered, roving from Isle to Isle and collecting what his Patrons desired. Over time he had collected allies, tools, but never friends, never a family. The Nordwiir were his people, but only because he had decided to make them so.

"The Isles are close to the Tundra, but in many ways...far." He mused. "I know little of the ways here, aside from what has been told to me."

By both the ancient stories and those he had met along the way.

 

[Sigrith]

"So you make your way alone through the Tundra?"

Sigrith lifted her chin faintly at this question, issuing another soft sigh, "Aye." It wasn't something she seemed saddened by or ashamed of. If nothing else, the woman was at peace with her lifestyle. It suited her and her wanderlust quite well and she felt she was gaining something from it that her Nordenfiiri brethren who remained within their settlements did not.

"There are many peoples of the tundra and no one way to know. I wander because the world calls to me, and I return to my coven sisters to bring them the gift of new knowledge. Sometimes I also bring them new sisters." Her gaze shifted back to him, a hardness in it only vagabonds of the world seemed to recognize, "Not everyone is meant to belong to one place. Not all witches give knowledge freely. What is it you wish to know about the people you think I belong to?"

 

[Kol]

Kol lifted his shoulders. "My own path is not too far from your own."

The Sorcerer lounged back on the stool for a few moments.

"After I passed my rites I spent years wandering the world." The Nordwiir let his hands brush over the leathers he wore, a trinket he had taken from the South. "I took the portal stones to the Southlands, each time letting fate and the Gods guide my way."

He considered for a moment. "I only wish to sate my curiosity."

"I've fought with the Northmen before, traveled with one of the Nordenfiir for a time." Though he'd met more than one now. "I simply like...knowing. Understanding."

An inquisitiveness that many of his people simply did not have. In fact, such a thing was almost unheard of among the Nordwiir. "In the north we are often trapped on the Island we are born upon. Stuck in one place, with a limit of what we can see or learn."

Until it came time for the raids, at least.

"I've tried to be...more." As he spoke, the grin behind Sigrith seemed to widen.

 

[Sigrith]

She listened without annoyance. Never annoyance. Sigrith was not intimately familiar with his people, but she was certain now that she was no stranger either. Her own travels had been wide and far, including the north well beyond where the Nordenfiir often drew their own limits. The recollection of a new sister within the Eirie Coven lingered in her near thoughts - though several years ago, she remembered it well. Along with her own interactions with the Nordwiir.

Though she'd never been to their isles.

The haunting grin behind her may have widened, but the Witch remained immutable.

"You have not answered my question."

No, indeed he had not. Talked around it in vagueries is what he had done, hoping to fish conversation out of her that included what he was after. Sigrith took no issue with silence, but she took issue with those who sought to take advantage of one of the few valuable resources the witches could claim: knowledge.

 

[Kol]

His shoulders rose. "There is nothing specific I desire."

The simple truth.

He'd had this same conversation with Ruvsa, with Brenna even. There had been an air of paranoia around them, as though enemies lurked around the corner. He supposed it was true in a way, and likely where his own people had gotten them.

At least the start of them.

"Where was it you were born?" He asked finally. "What was it like?"

 

[Sigrith]

Personal questions from a stranger. The witch's brow leveled in consideration of that. Wasn't often people came to witches to ask personal questions - though he'd not sought her out. Their meeting had been strange happenstance, or perhaps fate. She'd not yet drawn a conclusion on that either.

"Hjerim," Sigrith replied quietly, turning her attention back to the grisle by the fire and taking a piece to chew, "up in the highest peaks of the Bathir mountains. It was empowering. On clear days you could see until the sky swallowed the snows. On foggy days our settlement drifted above the clouds, a world away from the rest. When it stormed you discovered just how much strength you really had."

 

[Kol]

Kol considered for a moment. "Interesting."

He had always liked mountains.

The Lost Isles had none, save for the great Volcano on Irideth. The mountain that rose from the sea and spewed flame at an almost constant rate. No one had stepped foot there in centuries, not even those blessed by the Dark Gods.

It was said a great Dragon slept there, one touched by the divines and chained within the flaming abyss.

Kol had never been able to get the Dark Gods to tell him the truth of the matter. Whenever he'd asked the only answer he'd received was laughter. A typical thing from his patrons.

"Did you like it there?" The Sorcerer asked softly.