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.

–

 

[Faelynwë]

"For good reason!" The gleemaiden exploded, wrenching back her hand from his grasp and throwing them dramatically into the air as though asking some forgotten god to give her strength not to strangle the man before her. "The forest is--" her mouth snapped shut as that mental door rattled in the recesses of her mind. Hidden knowledge she knew she possessed but that came with a world of pain.

"It's not safe. Certainly not without magic," her mind wandered down the safer route of song lyrics. Many of the tale she sung across the realm were based in reality, and there were more than a dozen that talked about the horrors of the forest. Of loved ones missing. Of the desperate seeking shelter to never be seen again.

"If you plan to just take us on a suicide mission we'd have a better chance sneaking onto a boat."

 

[Avros]

Well, he hadn't exactly expected any other reaction. The Altwood was feared for a good reason. Even when his parents had ruled, the people had been exceptionally respectful of the forest. Many villagers along its borders had held yearly festivals in honor of the trees, all said to keep the forest from growing beyond its own boundaries.

Avros had no idea if such magics worked, but in truth it didn't really matter. ”You said it yourself.”

The Prince reminded her.

”You can't leave, a boat might cross the border of the barrier and…” His lips turned to a frown before he finished the sentence. Not wanting to picture the scene of Fae being turned to dust as the Usurper’s magics were turned upon her. ”There will be soldiers on the road.”

Especially after what had happened last night. There might have been a chance for him to travel for a few weeks relatively quietly, but after slaughtering four men? There was no question the Usurper would send more and raise every alarm he could.

Many of Avros’ broken, but what had been shattered into bits could be put back together by the right hands. Even the bastard who killed his parents knew that. ”The Aldwood will have neither soldiers nor watchers.”

He contended again.

”And, we're not entirely without magic…” Avros said with a frown. ”I think we can retrieve my spell blade before we get there.”

 

[Faelynwë]

Faelynwë stared at him, aware that her mouth hung half open in her disbelief. She tried to search her mind for the words that might convince him but if staying alive wasn't enough, then she had no idea what was.

Hels she would kill for even an ounce of Root.

The Gleemaiden rubbed a hand down her face and turned away from the Prince then paced back and forth. If she didn't leave with him she might have a better chance on her own. Maybe they would try to pin the murder entirely on the fugitive rather than a lowly gleemaiden. But if the innkeeper admitted he had seen her use magic...

Hels she would kill for just a drag of Root.

"Fine," she snapped, throwing her hands up in defeat. "But don't be surprised when I say I told you so."

 

[Avros]

"I wouldn't dream of it." Avros said, trying to project some level of confidence before he lead them into the dragons den.

There was really no telling what lay within the Aldwood. If they were lucky, they would never have to find out in the first place. A handful of tales existed where someone managed to make it through, though oddly enough most of them centered around children. What exactly that meant had been pondered by scholars for a long while, but no one had done any serious study.

Scholars of Aveli had been too respectful of the ancient forest, and his parents had praised them for their restraint.

Now Avros was left wondering if it wouldn't have been better for them to solve the mystery. "Spellsword first."

He said, more to himself than to Fae.

Before his capture he had entrusted the blade to one of his closest Lieutenants. The man had known where it needed to be buried, but the Prince could only hope that he had actually followed his instructions. Taking a deep breath, Avros once again set off, heading north and fully expecting his new companion to follow.

 

[Faelynwë]

Fae hesitated in the mouth of the sewers one last time before heaving a big sigh.

"In for a penny...." she muttered beneath her breath. The idea of traping through the Aldwood filled her with dread. When did men stop heeding the warnings of elves when it came to places of magic? Probably when they got themselves all killed, whispered the dark voice in the back of her mind. She shut it down before she could dwell on that thought anymore.

The sewers had dumped them out on the edge of the port. Despite the city being at their backs, the warning bells rang loud and clear. The sound would reach even the boats that docked far out in the harbour. Fugitives on the run. Everyone would be on high alert for those looking to skip town tonight. Fae sighed and rubbed her temples.

"If we're stopping for some broken sword, I have something I would like to get too," the Root dealers hung around the town usually, but with the guards no doubt on every street they would likely head to the quieter docks.

 

[Avros]

Avros moved with purpose, not glancing back as Fae made her intentions of stopping known. "It's not broken."

At least it better not be.

A spellsword was perhaps the most important thing that any Aveli could own. There were dozens of different kinds, hundreds even. Everything from small pocket knives to the greatswords once wielded by the Royal Guard. His own blade was a bastard sword, forged within the fires of his fathers smiths by his own hands.

The Usurper had destroyed many, many of the famed weapons and tools, but Avros had more than a small hope that his had survived the last few years. The man he had entrusted to would have died for the blade, though he'd told him not to.

"Just, buried." He corrected as they continued slowly up the cliffside coast. The alarm bells tolling loudly in the distance. "What do you need? We can stop, but the further we get from Primm before we do the better."

Avros contended, glancing over his shoulder finally, though looking past Fae and more towards the town up upon the cliffs.

 

[Faelynwë]

The elven maiden gave a quiet snort at the Prince's optimism. She more suspected the blade had been sold and broken down or melted whilst he languished in prison; the Usurpers Alchemists paid handsomely for the blades to experiment on. Even a loyal man could change his colours when watching his family starve. She didn't say it outloud though; if the boy wanted to believe in something she wouldn't take it from him. The world would soon enough.

"Provisions," was all she offered as an answer and from the steely glare she levelled in his direction she wouldn't be elaborating any further on the matter.

"I can get them at the next town," she conceded. Root could be found in most places. Since the usurpers arrival it had spread like a plague and the authorities had shown little interest in stamping it out. A drugged populace were easier to control.

 

[Avros]

"Provisions." He echoed nodding his head, though sounding as if he only half believed her.

The Prince offered no other comment though, happy enough that she agreed at least not to double back towards Primm. He was fairly certain that trying to do so would quickly see both of them hanged. Even stopping at the next village would have an air of danger, but if only one of them went into town it would be safe enough.

At least he hoped. "Then let's hurry."

Avros said as he turned back towards the Gleemaid.

"They'll be searching with dogs soon, and we need to get as far as ahead as we can." He had played this game of cat and mouse enough times to know that. They were on the clock now, and the longer they lingered the more likely it was the guard would catch up with them. Primm wasn't exactly the center of civilization, but there was a garrison.

The Usurper had positioned many of them all around Aveli. Each ready to respond to rebellions if they were needed. With a long breath, Avros set their pace. Moving along the cliff and leading Fae as they began to move north. Avoiding the road as much as they could, cutting through farmers fields and as of yet untouched wilderness.


It took them nearly two days until they reached the next village. A small crossroad down called Tumilin. Their nights had been cold and blessed with rain, which at first had seemed a curse until he'd pointed out it would would make them more difficult to track.

Nonetheless, after the forced march, both he and Fae were set on edge. The lights of Tumilin coming into view did not settle Avros' nerves however, and as they sat on the edge of a large field just outside of town the Prince chewed his lip. "Looks quiet."

He said with a slight frown.

"But there could be a patrol." There was no way of telling, not from here, but getting closer might also mean getting caught. "Tell me what you need, I'll go in and get it, along with some camp supplies."

Something they'd been sorely lacking the last few days.

 

[Faelynwë]

It had only taken one day before Faelynwë began to feel the effects of withdrawal from Root. It had begun as a mild case of the shakes that she had been able to grit her way through. The headaches too, whilst painful, had been easy enough to walk through but by the morning of the second day they had reached a point where the sunlight made her feel queasy and she had refused food for fear of throwing up.

Her mood took a severe hit too. She became snappish and short with any prying questions and had stormed off when he had refused to give in and get an Inn on the second night of sleeping in the rain. She could have cried when she saw the spit of a town that they had been aiming for.

"Why don't you sit here and I'll go get what we need? I might even be able to make some coin down there," it had probably been a while since this shithole had had a decent performer.

 

[Avros]

The Prince blinked. ”You're kidding, right?”

It had been rather obvious over the last two days that Fae wasn't exactly used to the wilderness. She'd been grumpier and grouchier by the minute, despite him pointing out that they couldn't just wander the roads. Every logical argument he made was deflected, and at one point he was pretty sure she'd been ready to stab him several times. Though that might just have been because he'd suggested they could find a cave after he'd denied her an Inn.

”We need to avoid notice.” He reminded her, not for the first time that day. The conversation a simple cycle that they had done about four times now. ”Who do you think someone's going to remember better?”

Avros gestured to himself. ”Average looking man buying some camping supplies.”

And whatever else she still needed.

”Or.” He gestured to her. ”The beautiful elven gleemaid that swept into town and sang some songs for the local tavern, making coin and leaving an impression on a town that probably hasn't seen a singer in a decade.”

Even if she hid her ears, a gleemaid or man was always something people talked about. The Usurper may have dulled the minds of his people, but they were not so dead inside that a rare treat for entertainment was entirely ignored. He'd witnessed as much in the tavern the night before.