Private Tales Travelling Companions

[Alistair Wren]

The Spine, en route to Molthal

The wheels of the cart churned through the sleet, throwing Alistair upwards as they hit a rock. Book in his lap, he pulled his eyes away from the pages with the impact, arching his neck over the edge to look at the mountains which soared beyond. Wearing thick, navy blue robes which matched the colour of his eyes, he huddled beneath the black and white which trimmed his hood, the temperature dropping as the cart headed into the thick of a blizzard. Alistair withdrew into the corner of the cart, fiddling with the charm in his gloves hand.

He did not know if the horses would make it through, or if the cart would be trapped.

Breathing in, he rubbed his hands and looked down, focusing on the runes in his book. One eye trailing upward, he caught a glimpse of the only other traveler sitting in the cart, a young woman with dark, curly hair. They had not spoken since she had got on at the last city. Alistair had been too shy.

Shifting his dark, blue eyes, the young mage exhaled, the condensation from his breath hanging on his the air. He lips were parched and his nose freezing, ice clinging to the strands of hair with fell around his forehead. He wanted to get some study in while he traveled, so he had spent the journey studying empathetic runes, in an effort to find a use to use them to calm the emotions of a target, rather than drain them of them. Running his finger down the page, he muttered aloud to himself, scratching the back of his head as he thought. Knees huddled against his chest, he looked up and saw the young woman staring back at him, her eyes as pale as the snow on the road.

Swallowing a nervous gulp, Alistair tugged at the clasp on his neck and breathed in, then exhaled.

"Hello," was all he said.

"Bugger, what do I say now?" The thought overburdened his mind. Panicking, he shifted his eyes, scratched his head even harder, then jolted up, a huge smile on his face, "so what are you going to Molthal for?" He asked.

A pause followed, filled by the dents in Alistair's cheeks as he smiled.

"My name is Alistair Wren, what's yours?" He asked, his voice soft and reserved, yet lacking in expressive nuance.

The sky darkened, threatening the onset of evening. The horses whinnied up ahead as the wind frightened them, the sleet in the air growing thick. The cart slid along the ice, veering to the side and throwing Alistair and the young woman aside with the impact. The young mage grabbed his book, hugged it to his chest gazed upward, worried, at the sky. The stars were not visible, so he couldn't use them to tell where they were. He breathed in and exhaled, then curled up into the corner of the cart, his nose peering over the top of his book.

"Oh boy, I hope the horses make it," he gasped, brow creased in concern.

Rose

 

[Rose]

Boy was it exciting to be riding IN cart for once. Usually Rose took to the shadows and hitched a ride on people without their permission. Or even knowledge. It was much more convenient to travel through certain places unseen, even if the action was taxing in its own little way.

On foot or by shadow, Rose had to expend energy to get somewhere. So sitting in a cart and visible for once? Well, it was like the best lazy Sunday around.

She never pushed conversation though. Frankly, it felt like pushing her luck. It was always the small things that cued someone into what she was, and it usually never ended up good from there. No, it was best to be silent and enjoy the ride. Except, her companion seemed awfully nervous...

She couldn't help fear that he had figured her out, and she was done in the moment he'd find the courage to squeak for the driver up again. She squirmed, uncomfortable as she watched him. The cart threw them about, the girl catching herself easily. Her gaze was unwavering, until he finally spoke up. She blinked, a friendly grin catching on her lips.

"Oh. Is that why you're so scared. I wouldn't worry about that. The drivers will know what they're doing." She said it so confidently, with trust only befitting a child that had never yet seen the faults of the authority figures around them.

"I'm Rose. Is that where we're going?" She looked bemused.

 

[Alistair Wren]

There was something haunting about the woman which perplexed Alistair, something off. The ends of his mouth kinked upwards and he smiled, a modest smile, denting his cheeks with huge dimples. He closed his book and shoved it into the bag, string back by his side and wrapped his arms around his knees, shuddering amidst the cold.

"Oh no, it's not that," brushing hair and fur from the trimming of his hood out of his face, Alistair blushed, "I'm just shy," he shrugged.

The cart jolted and one of the driver's barked a command at the horses. They whinnied, refusing to go any further. A huge gust of wind blew across the side of the road, almost tipping the cart on its side. Alistair gripped the edge, his navy eyes widening as he held on. There was another gust of wind and one of the horses reared.

Its neigh split the breeze, strained by terror and the stinging of ice against its skin. The horse bolted, tearing its reigns from the front of the cart and galloping off into the snow, where it would most likely get lost and die. Mouth hanging open, Alistair watched it sadly and clutched his charm to his chest. He kissed it, the metal frigid against his lips.

"Grant him shelter," he uttered a brief spell.

With the cart ground to a halt, the drivers jumped off and started to fix it up. Slumping his shoulders, Alistair regretting that they were stuck in the middle of a blizzard.

Condensation warm on his lips, Alistair turned around to face the girl, who had introduced herself as Rose, "Rose," he smiled.

"Yes, I'm going to Molthal," he nodded, the charm dangling in his hand as he leaned on the edge of the cart, "I need to retrieve a spell there."

A pause followed and Alistair looked over the edge of the cart. The drivers were scrambling to repair it, the remaining horse now panicking after losing its companion. Straight eyebrows creased, Alistair withdrew his arm from the side of the cart and wrapped it around his knee.

"What about you? Where are you going?" He asked.

Rose

 

[Rose]

"Uuuh, huuuh... Oh. Molthal, I guess," she finally responded, her gaze dragging off the empty void of snow where the horse had disappeared into. Should she follow it? She didn't dare. Not even if it was a free chance at nutrition. She hated that stuff. She hated even considering it. Nah, that was a situation for future Rose to endure.

Today she had a cozy wagon. And company to boot!

She snuggled deeper into her once fine cloak. The expensive fabrics showed sign of heavy use, dirt and holes and a stain of something dark marring what had once been a pretty little thing. Not that she cared much, the cold never bothered her anyway.

"Why do you have to go there? Why can't they mail it to you?" She challenged in an instant, more curious than anything. He looked cold.

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair smirked, not at the girl, but at himself for being so awkward. When she said she was also going to Molthal, he smiled, happy to have company on the trip.

The drivers scrambled to calm down the remaining horse, the blizzard growing thicker. Peering out from his fur-lined hood, Alistair noticed the girl eyeing the horse that had ran away. Did she feel sorry for it like he did? He couldn't tell.

"Oh, then we'll be going there together!" He chimed.

The girl then asked why he had to go all the way to Molthal to retrieve a spell, to which he hung his head and laughed.

"So it doesn't get intercepted," he winked, "we had an incident at the college not too long ago of a dark mage who assumed the form of a raven to trick people," huddling up against the corner of the wagon, he rubbed his hands blew on them. He didn't tell the girl that he had been the one to take the raven into the healing wards in the first place. Breathing in, he chuckled at his own foolish, kind heart.

"That dark mage is looking for this spell, so the archmages sent me to retrieve it so he doesn't assume the form of the raven who delivers it," Alistair nodded.

"What about you, what are you going to Molthal for?" He asked.

Wind blasted the side of the cart, the drivers almost invisible through the sleet. One of the ran around the side of the cart and looked at Rose and Alistair, a frightened look on his face.

"Blizzard's getting worse, milord, milady, and we lost one of our horses, you'll probably have to find an inn or make it on foot from here on," he tipped his fur-lined cap.

Rose

 

[Rose]

"Ahhh," Rose groaned, snuggling deeper into the provided furs. "But I paid you!" The man looked on, flabbergasted.

"But milady, the storm-"

"-I don't have money for an inn." An odd statement, considering someone would need to stay at said town they were traveling to. Rose didn't seem to be ungrateful so much as distressed. She had wasted all her coin on this bit of comfort. And now that it was in the thick of the storm, finding shelter to steal into would be all that much more difficult.

"Can't I just stay here?" She insisted, cutting off the poor man as he went to speak again.

 

[Alistair Wren]

"Bugger," Alistair sighed.

Huddling further into the corner of the wagon, he closed his spellbook and slid it into the big, string back by his side and looked over the edge.

The driver leaned against the side and beheld Alistair and Rose, ice clinging to his beard.

"Forgive me, milday, but the snow is too thick and we can't pull the cart with just one horse," the flustered driver exclaimed, a hand held down on his fur-trimmed cap. He tossed Rose the money she had paid for the trip, then Alistair's, "here is your gold, you would do well to find an inn before night falls," he tipped his cap and walked around the other side of the cart.

"If we stay here we risk getting buried underneath the snow," Alistair said, brow furrowed in concern.

Grabbing his bag, he slung it around his shoulder and pulled himself to his feet. He straightened his robes, brushed snow off his behind and jumped off the cart. Walking around to the side, he offered a hand to Rose.

"Come on, we need to get going soon before the blizzard gets too thick," he said, his voice soft and welcoming.

A pause followed.

"You can stay here if you like, but I'm heading out," he said sternly. The snow was getting thicker and if they didn't get to an inn soon, they would be buried on the road, or possibly trapped on the way to the inn. A hand held out, Alistair tilted his head towards the snow, inviting Rose to follow.

Rose

 

[Rose]

Rose made of a noise of protest, clutching her returned coin tightly to her chest. She looked between the proffered hand and her comfortable furs for a long moment, clearly torn. It was the boy’s warm smile that won her over. Rose craved such a presence more than words could encapsulate. Kindness was worth more than gold. And as it turned out— more than warm furs during a growing blizzard too.

She took his hand, giving a huff that clearly read ‘fine’. Her fingers were as cold as ice, the girl clinging tight as she untangled herself and clambered down. She had nothing to her possession but a thin bag and that worn out cloak, but she tuck the coin into herself and look over at the drivers as if they were the one she was concerned about.

“But what are they gonna do? If they stay out here they’ll die. Or worse, get eaten.”

 

[Alistair Wren]

Rose had a point.

If the drivers stayed out there, they would most likely be trapped in the blizzard and die. Hand in the air, he recoiled, becoming increasingly turned and turned around to face the drivers, who were still scrambling to repair their cart.

Alistair was good at mathematics and runes. Not getting lost in the snow.

"D'oooh!" He screwed up his features and grumbled. His heart pounded at the thought of the men. He turned around to face them, regretting that they could do nothing to help.

When Rose grabbed his hand, he felt the icy touch of her skin through his glove. As cold as the snow around them. Her hand in his eyes, he shot up, suddenly unsettled by how cold her hand felt and hauled her apprehensively out of the cart. He had been correct in his first assumption. There was something off about her, from her pale eyes to ice-cold skin and the way she had looked at the horse when it had run off, there was something, but Alistair didn't know what.

Once Rose had stepped out of the cart, Alistair walked over to the drivers. The wind blasted them from behind, blowing up his robes like a woman's skirts. Huddling under his hood, he looked down, shielding his eyes from the sleet and started to help the drivers unhook the horse's rains from the cart.

"Many thanks, Lord mage, but there's no need," one of them said.

"Oh please, I don't want you to die out here," Alistair said as he unhooked the horse's rains. He grabbed hay from the back of the cart, fed it to the horse and patted it, calming it down.

One of the men had an axe at his belt, which was fortunate.

"Chop up the cart for wood, and take the horse to shelter," Alistair nodded. Reaching into his robe, he handed the driver a few coins, "build a fire and stay warm," he clasped the driver's hand, gave him the coins and turned away.

The driver thanked him, but the wind was too loud for him to hear. Alistair always felt awkward whenever he was thanked, even when he deserved to be. Wrapping his fur-lined, navy robes around him, he walked up to Rose, waved his hand and beckoned her to the side of the road.

He turned around, "that's all we can do for them, I'm afraid," he sighed, "they'll be fine once they find shelter and get a fire going," rubbing his hands, he strode off the road and headed into the woods beyond.

"Come on, let's find an inn," facing the trees, Alistair gripped the strap of his bag and trudged through the snow.

Rose

 

[Rose]

Rose walked dutifully besides him, shivering dramatically into her cloak. She wasn't truly that cold, but there was a bit of fun to the theatrics, and walking was boring.

As she walked one question came to mind again and again, until she parted her chattering teeth and voiced it. "Why would you have them chop up their cart. There's trees everywhere."

She looked behind them, then shrugged, knowing they were too far and too late now to redirect them if they so chose to do.

Rose cracked a massive smile, amused by the thought. "You really aren't use to being outdoors on your own, are you." It wasn't a question. She knew his studious type well.

 

[Alistair Wren]

Wrapping his furs around him, Alistair stopped midway through the snow and sputtered at Rose's comment. He slammed his eyes shut and snapped around, almost spitting as he glared at her. He was getting frustrated now. All he wanted to do was help and she was questioning everything he did.

"Because it was a nice thing to do," he stated, eyelids lowering.

Turning back around, the young mage trudged into the forest, the trees shading rose and himself in darkness. The wind hurled past, throwing ice and sleet in their direction. Holding down his robes, Alistair turned a corner and headed into the darkness, Rose following behind.

"I wasn't thinking about it, I just wanted them to be okay," slumping his shoulders, Alistair sighed, regretting that his street smarts suffered when he had to think on his feet. He was much better at thinking at his desk, in the university or an inn, surrounded by parchment covered in runes and with a glass of mead.

Scanning the wilderness for the road, he turned back around to face Rose, his features softening when she presumed that he didn't get out much, "no, I'm not," he managed a small bout of laughter.

"I hadn't left the Elbion college since I was sixteen, and I've only been away for a few months," he shook his head.

"What about you? Where did you come from?" He asked.

The sleet thrust in, covering any trace of the road and making it impossible to see. Hand against a tree, Alistair squinted, looking around for it desperately. It would take them less time to get to the inn if they went through the woods, but the road was more obscured.

Rose

 

[Rose]

Rose grabbed at his sleeve, her grip firm but gentle as she pulled him off the tree and started guiding him. Her steps were confident inside the storm, the girl having no trouble seeing the outline of the road through the flurry of the storm.

Perhaps it was just her street smarts kicking in?

Either way she gently tugged him forward, unrelenting.

"North. Very north. Nice place on the edge of the sea. There's colleges there too. I know your type well."

She once was his type.

"You'll get the hang of it soon enough. Just don't die," came her wise advice. "Here! Walk in my footprints. S'easier." She shot him an easy grin, turning to lead him forward as promised.

 

[Alistair Wren]

As Alistair walked, he felt a slight tug and turned around to see Rose gripping his sleeve. She pulled him off the path he was walking in and guided him in the right direction. Glaring slightly, Alistair turned around and walked onto the road where Rose was guiding him.

"Thanks," he stated, not failing to hide his frustration.

He had spent most of his childhood in Elbion, where it was warm, so he had never been caught in a blizzard before. It wasn't that he didn't know how to look after himself, it was just that he had no experience with certain situations, such as surviving in the cold, and skills such as those were certainly not taught at the college!

At Rose's mention of where she came from, Alistair froze slightly, looked up at the sky and turned to face her, "it wasn't Elbion was it? That's where I'm from," he asked.

Wrapping his thick robes around him, he continued to trudge through the snow. He watched where Rose was stepping to make sure he was going the right way and looked down, shielding his eyes from the sleet. The wind howled, thrusting ice down the path and blowing up Alistair's robes. He held them down and walked beside Rose, trusting in her street-wise eyes to find the nearest inn.

"Heh, thanks, I'll try not to!" He laughed.

Truthfully, Alistair was tougher than he looked. Behind the soft features and robes was headstrong young man who could amputate infected limbs and treat dysentery, he just hadn't been out of his shell for very long.

When Rose shot him a grin, inviting him to walk in her footprints, he took one huge step to the side and stepped into each hole her feet made in the snow, walking behind her.

 

[Rose]

"No. Gods, no. It's west. Like. Much west. Think like-- Spine region. Ixchel wilds? 'round there." She didn't talk like an educated person. Her speech was improper, slang and dropped words saturating every sentence.

It had driven her brother nuts, once upon a time. Despite being taught otherwise, seeing his temple throb kept their old speech alive in her.

And now it was all she used.

Because she wasn't that girl anymore.

"Where are we, anyway?" She chirped, utterly unaware of just how twisted her sense of location was. Home wasn't north anymore, but south. She had been traveling with no map. No sense of care. For all she new, they were near Alliria. Now wouldn't that be cool?

 

[Alistair Wren]

When Rose said the place she had come from was much further west than Elbion, Alistair nodded, "ah."

Her speech was unrefined, not well articulated and made Alistair presume that she hadn't been educated, or maybe he was wrong.

Wrapping his cloak around him, he pulled his feet through the snow, trying to walk in Rose's footprints as she kept him on the road. The wind hurled around them, bringing in sleet from an abyss of white which soared beyond. His vision was blurred and he could not see anything for miles ahead. He had been certain there had been an inn in this direction, but any lights were blurred by the snow.

Rose then asked him where they were and he snapped around, "I don't know! I thought you knew where we were!" He cried.

Turning around, he walked to the side of the road and held his hand above his brow, trying to see any lights or sign of a town. The snow hurled in, building up against the trees and blocking their way back to the road.

"Shit," Alistair muttered.

The snow was getting thicker. It was getting harder and harder to walk, and very soon, it would be dark and they wouldn't be able to see without a fire. They were trapped in a blizzard with no way out. Breathing in., Alistair swallowed, rubbing his hands to keep them warm. Brow creased, he turned around to face Rose and shifted his eyes, unsure of what to do.

"I don't think we're going to make it to the inn, the snow's just too thick and it's getting darker," he cried, his voice muffled by the wind.

"Should we make a fire?" He offered, an eyebrow raised.

 

[Rose]

Rose stopped short, glancing in panic between his sluggish form and the snow forming around them. They reaaaally shouldn't stop now! Moving was what would keep him alive. But likewise, even she was struggling to see which direction she was heading now.

Turning back wasn't an option, the flurry of snow thoroughly disoriented the girl's sense of direction.

She whined.

"We reaaaally shouldn't have left the caravan." Why did she listen to him again? Oh, cause he was older. Duh.

"Now you're gonna die, we can't make a shelter in this." Well perhaps they could, but she dismissed the thought without consideration. She did not hold a shiver like he did, though that was not to say her nose didn't run with cold induced snot.

She would be fine.

He on the other hand...