Private Tales When the Night Comes

[Amelia]

Though the summer was still at its height, the fields and groves on the outskirts of the Allir Reach held an unnerving chill to it. Cold winds swept across the small impromptu camp as men and women of all manner of fates huddled around a fire for comfort. It had been a long journey to get here from Elbion and it was a journey that had only been made longer as rumors of ill-deeds reached them from back home. Yet as they sat around the fire and peered out towards the horizon to see the capital of all civilization — the pearl of the world, Alliria — rest upon its moonlight crested edge it was hard not to let a sense of comfort spread within each and every single one of their weary souls.

It was a trio of wagons, two of which contained crate loads of wines from ‘the Arcanist’s Vineyard.’ Atop the last wagon sat a single person who peered out towards her home. A slender hand reached out to tuck her hair back behind her ear before she let a faint sigh push through her nose as she put her lips to a small cylindrical instrument and gave it a gentle blow to produce a single prolonged tune. She followed it up with another that seemed to fall just a little lower on the spectrum, and then another much like it before she moved both her hands down the flute and gave it yet another whistle.

This was the third time she had tried this now. Each time she did it slow she could manage the harmony just, but the moment she sped it up it was as if she couldn’t find the correct position again. She gave the whistle another attempt, and much like she would have expected the final tune was just ever so slightly off-tune that it turned the entire melody into pure shit.

The woman cursed under her breath again and let her focus set on the capital on the horizon again. Her throat hissed with a vague yet clearly melodic hum that went far beyond even just the first few notes, the song that she had tried to play by ear on her instrument. Her head shook again as her attention went skyward to check for griffins or other creatures of the sky only to find herself face-to-face with the ever-imposing void beyond the clouds.

Her shoulder rolled on instinct again. Although she didn’t expect to find herself in trouble, enough time had been spent going from one place to the other that she couldn’t simply drop her worry. From lionpeople, to bandits, to said griffin, it had become abundantly clear with each passing trip that took her out of Alliria that the world was a lot less polished than it seemed to be in the books.

And yet, was that not the appeal of it? Amelia lowered her flute and gave it a lookover. She had every intention of finding the right time to start writing her own songs about it. The first step was just figuring out how to actually write a song.

 

[Renzo D'Agosta]

A few minutes later they'd overhear the beating of hooves on the ground.

It carried far.

The beating turned louder and louder, until finally it ceased some distance away. Their guard called out and a voice called back. Bright, young, full of energy. It said: "Oi, can a man find a place at your fire? It's mighty cold out here."

Some haggling occurred.

Jokes exchanged, until everyone was satisfied this wasn't a bandit. Or worse. A traveling actor. The horse was hitched and a young scrappy lad joined the circle of fire.

Right next to Amelia, in fact.

"Ohey, name's Lorenzo D'Agosta. You?" He said over the unpacking of his satchel. Pulling out a loaf of bread and a pouch. If she knew her nobility of the Reach, she might find the name familiar. Luckily for her she didn't need to guess.

"Mhm, son to Count D'Agosta, indeed!" He confirmed.... as if anyone asked, which nobody had. "Sure is a nice night, no?"

 

[Amelia]

Nobility had that way when they walked, they carried an air of superiority to them that made just about everyone turn their head in curiosity. As the horses had approached the camp and made introductions, Amelia would slowly disembark from the top of her caravan to approach the fire and get a better look—from afar, naturally—at the man that had just crept upon their camp.

He was young and handsome, and most likely a heartbreaker. She opened her satchel to deposit her flute next to mother’s books. As he stepped into the fire’s light it bathed him in an imposing light, yet as he sat down to open his mouth the mystique was all but eradicated.

Nobles had a way with words when they spoke. Either they spoke with an air of authority or they simply came across as pompous twats. When Amelia found herself having to pick and choose which one it was it was most certainly not the first one that came to mind. She had heard of his family, and who he was. With her mother being the person that she was, it was hard not to have overheard the rumor of a count’s son who seemed so set on going against his father’s wishes at every turn.

“Amelia Eastwater.” Amelia said and did as much of a curtsy as she could while sitting down. The man motioned for the night sky and her eyes would once more wander skywards. “It’s a good night. Colder than usual, but good.”

The man was full of himself. Pretty, but undoubtedly full of himself.

“It’s not often we meet a noble’s son on the road. Much less on his lonesome.” Amelia said as her eyes wandered back down to their guest. A grin spread on her lips to expose a set of almost perfectly aligned pair of teeth. “Another off-the-record escapade, or should we tell your father?”

 

[Renzo D'Agosta]

A lazy stretch there and then another smile.

This one was full of smiles.

"An off-the-record escapade, of course! Look at me- could I claim anything different?" Pompous? Oh, yes, but also with a brand of self-awareness that most nobles lacked. Which was a treat. "My dearest father was going to ship me off to the military academy. Imagine that."

Hand on his chest.

Outrage, but mostly theatrical one.

"Me. They say you need to iron your own shirts at the academy." Voice filled with self-pity, but there was something in the eye there. Like he believed it was immensely amusing. This entire situation. Like he was trying to hold back laughing at himself.

And then it was gone again, replaced by righteous indignation.

"Alas, enough about my sorrows. What brings you here, miss Eastwater?"

 

[Amelia]

It was a fact that skipping out of the military academy was a very good way to garner your noble father’s ill will. It would be a speck of dirt on his honor and something that Renzo D’Agosta would undoubtedly never hear the end of, should he not ‘come to his senses’ as his father would undoubtedly call it. After all, most nobles prided themselves on their armies and the glory of war. Whether said war was imaginary and on a game board or on an actual battlefield was of little consequence. The fact that this man seemed to brush said traditions off in favor of something else was unusual to say the least.

Amelia let her hand sweep against her dark brown hair once more to tuck it back behind her pointed ear once more before she spoke. “I run errands for my mother.” She said and patted her own satchel by her side. “I gather books and ingredients, mostly.”

The rest of the people began to disperse from the fire. It was getting late and the road had been long. Tomorrow they would reach the capital and with it Amelia’s trip would come to an end. It was hard to deny that a greater part of her missed home and her soft and neatly cushioned bed. Her back had been sore for days now and her neck was ever the same. The plan after all of this was almost certainly to sleep a whole week away if she could find the chance to do so.

“You might have heard of her,” She said and shrugged. “Ariawyn Elsatra.”

It was fair to say that if he got to pull his name, so did she.

 

[Renzo D'Agosta]

A laugh there.

"Ol' Elsatra? You're her kid?" Another laugh, almost a giggle there. "Oh, yeah, I have seen that tyrant around. Absolutely dreadful, when you are a young innocent child with the coughing fits." Smiling warmly there, thinking back to those memories.

"She never did let me have that extra candy."

Pausing briefly there and inclining his head. "No offence meant, of course. She is a true master in her field -- my father always said as much."

The fact that Renzo didn't actually think much of his father's opinions? Well, that ... was ... irrelevant to the larger point of saying something nice, right? That seemed to check out for him, yes. A shrug there. "So, I am running away from my dad and his duties, you are running for 'em."

Curious look there again.

"Overall- enjoying your time doing your duty or is it a disappointment?"

That could be taken as a veiled insult or barb, but his eyes were gleaming curiously. No smirk in sight this time around. The fact that he so royally applied them elsewhere? Truly suggested he was interested in her answer.

 

[Amelia]

Amelia recoiled at the man’s initial reaction to who her mother was. Not because he knew her name but rather because he had quite clearly been one of her patients at one point or another. Although in retrospect it made sense and the smallest of coins trickled into the bag which said that those ‘maidservant rumors’ was in fact not a maidservant’s rumor at all but rather her mother’s own experience.

The doctor’s daughter closed her eyes with a snicker at the man’s complaint. “Glad to know I wasn’t the only child who fell for the candy trick.” She said and slowly began to shake her head. As much as her mother would claim it wasn’t so, the man did have a point. For as great as Ariawyn Elsatra was, her mother had a way with children that was not so much care through sugar coated words as it was a dance of manipulation and — to some, false hopes. Amelia herself used these tricks when taking care of children, albeit mostly to the spoiled brats that could stand to be knocked down a peg or two.

And so it was that Amelia, the ever loyal daughter, sat by a fire next to a grown man running from his responsibilities. Her glances wandered up and down to take in the sights again, almost as if to size him up.

A contemplative expression fell upon her as she considered Renzo’s question. “A bit of both, I guess.” She finally said and shrugged. “On the one hand I get out of the house a lot. On the other hand I need to haul back heavy books and sometimes ingredients that feel so insignificant that anyone else could do it.”

Her shoulders rolled in another shrug. “Still, it saves us money. I suppose the son of a count doesn’t really have to worry about that.” Her eyes set on the heir-apparent again with an equally curious glance. “And why is it that a son of such status wouldn’t want to go to the academy anyway? Pretty sure Ser Leon will have your father’s skin for it.”

 

[Renzo D'Agosta]

"Children by the dozen fell for it." He declared sadly, before the expression cleared up again in a shine.

It became quickly clear that Renzo had little time for any negative emotions.

They flew off of him like water.

"Sure, but you could be traveling for yourself, rather than your mother yeah?" He questions lightly there. What she said made sense. It was nice to get out here. To explore and travel. Being penned up in the estate the entire time was dreadful.

Just seemed to him you could cut out the middle man.

Kinda like he did.

"See the world- explore. Not be stuck with your mother." Echoing that again, because that was the best thing about it. Not being fixed to your parents.

Who alwaaaays seemed to know better. Except that they didn't.

The mention of his father however. And of Ser Leon. That brought doubt to his expression. Maybe even a little cringe at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, my father will be fine. He still has a firstborn son, who is the perfect big military man. "As for me- can you imagine me at the academy? They expect you to iron your own trousers there. Hell, they apparently only allow one pair of trousers and two pair of boots!"

Shaking his head.

"You can't even wear a hat, until you are a Captain. I look amazing in a hat, you know." Conversational there again. The mention of his father already disappearing over the horizon. Better that way.

"Besides- I can already fight and command. I don't need a Sergeant-at-Arms yelling at me early in the morning for that."

 

[Amelia]

Her lips curled into a mock frown at the man’s story of woe for other children. As she had grown older she understood the intricacies of getting children to cooperate with what you were saying. Yelling never worked, and neither did threats of violence. You had to appease them, and every now and again if they had been good they would actually get the treat. Though the treat was really just to instill them with a false sense of hope that sometimes you got the treat, and other times you did not. By the sound of it Renzo was one of the children that did not cooperate.

Amelia laughed again at his remarks about the academy. While he did have a point, she had also seen enough of the world to understand that not everyone on the road was a friend and that not every creature had your best intentions at heart. There were cattle and cats, but there also were the wraiths and nomadic abominations of magic. So far she had encountered neither of the latter, but part of her knew that it was only a matter of time.

If only she knew…

“To travel without a plan is to wander.” She said quite simply at his remark. The man didn’t really let her follow it up with something. So full of his own words was he that Amelia found herself at a loss for words. He had his charms, she had her lost trail of thoughts.

“I can imagine you do.” She said and gave him an appreciative nod at what she had seen so far. “So, tell me, where do you plan to get your new hat then?” And there it was, that elven glance her mother had given her so many times. Amelia’s deep brown eyes peered into his with a curious if not outright questioning stare that tore at his soul. Had he ever lied about his condition to his mother, Renzo would know exactly the one.

“Hats aren’t just handed out for free, you know. They have to be earned.”