Private Tales What Remains

[Avros]

A smile pulled at the Prince's lips, feeling as though he had succeeded at something.

Perhaps not all hope was lost afterward. "We go inland."

Avros said as he lead the way. There weren't many 'safe' places for him. Most of the countryside would be teeming with soldiers, not to mention the Questioners which would eventually be sent. His friends were few in number after all these years, but a name did stick out to him.

"Orria." He intoned, wondering if she would know the name of the city. It was one of the largest in Avelin, or at least had been. While Avelin sat on the coast, Orria was situated within the middle of the small nation. Having grown up around a series of mines, the city was the manufacturing capital.

Where once the Rune Marked blades of his people had been made. "I have a contact there."

A man in the army. He had stayed after the Tyrant had taken over, but acted as a double agent. Avros had no idea if the man was still alive, but there was no doubt that if he was he was still resisting. Not in the same way others would, but the Prince knew he could count on him.

"He'll be a good place to start." He said as they finally stepped outside.

 

[Faelynwë]

The longer she was without drink or root, the more that irritating knowledge that she tried to suppress crept in. Her mind sparked at the word Orissa and conjured up maps, facts, and snippets of memories. She tried to push them away. All it would take was one trigger to send her back to the memories she kept locked behind the vault.

The fresh air hit her as they stepped outside and she tugged the scarf down from her nose to breathe it in. It would take a few hours for the stench of the sewers to truly leave her system, and probably only after she bathed and changed clothes would she stop catching whiffs with her sensitive nose, but this was a start. She had always loved the smell of the ocean spray.

"I haven't been there in a few years, they don't tip singers well despite their earnings," she rolled her eyes. "So are we going by boat? The roads out will all be locked down now."

 

[Avros]

There was something intensely relieving about once again stepping out into fresh air. His nose had gotten used to the stench, or so he had thought, but it was only when they stepped outside that Avros was reminded just how truly bad the sewers were.

He shook his head, and then said a quick prayer in hopes they would be able to enter Orissa through other means. "We'll cut through the Aldwood."

Avros said suddenly, knowing that the words would likely be met with objection.

The Aldwood was a, relatively, small forest that cut the nation of Avelin nearly in half. Two roads and a single river cut their way through it, but most of the Aldwood was entirely untamed. It was an ancient and deeply magical place that even the Usurper had not yet dared to tread.

There were many reasons for that of course, but chief among them was the truth of the Aldwood; those who went in, often did not come out.

Whether that was by the hand of the forest itself, or some creature lurking within was unknown. Though within the ancient histories of the Aveli people, it was said that their knowledge and understanding of the Runes first came from the Aldwood. Taught to their ancestors there long ago.

"They won't expect it." He said, turning back to her and readying for the argument.

–