Private Tales Where the World Ends

[Mikaela Ryurik]

Withereach was not a place one really wanted to go to. At least not after what’s happened there during the last decades. Even before Mika was born things had been going awry. Nowadays, however, it was said to be better. That, of course, depended on what one considered “better”. As someone who’s spent the majority of her life in the capital, the young Ryurik found the reality that was the mining city harder than the stories. To hear about it was one thing, but to see it with your own eyes was something else entirely. Aside from that there was the cough. Its echoes never died as she made her way through the smaller streets with only a vague description of the one she was looking for and an even vaguer idea of where she was heading.

Mystery surrounded the witch she was looking for. From the queen’s hall all the way to the south of the Kingdom Mika’s been tracing the one who’s been at Faarin when the world had trembled. All types of stories were connected to this Nord with --apparently-- two different eyes. One matched her own, the other should be the color of the sea. Sigrith was supposed to have dark hair which turned white as bone at the tips.

When whispering her name near the fire last night, she had been pointed into a direction, but told to be cautious. No bad word was spoken about the woman, yet, there appeared to be some sort of hesitation when talking about her. Either the people of Withereach cherished her, or they weren’t entirely sure what Sigrith was like in truth. Mika planned to find out, if the woman would let her.

No, if she would manage to find her.

Right now, after a good night of sleep and a piece of a roasted rabbit, she rushed through the snow in hopes of reaching a small market where “exotic” things could be found. People spoke of Black Ice trading hands there for things that belonged across the sea. Surely someone who engaged in magic and rituals would visit those whenever they were held?

Mikaela certainly hoped so. Chances were bitterly slim, but the sight of a Dea’roh gave her spirit the fire needed to continue her journey.

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

The Withereach Folly Market, if one could really even call it a market, consisted of about two local tradesmen of the dingey town and whatever trade ships happened to be docked in the Folly. It wasn't much of anything to see nor experience, and it wasn't what Sigrith the Nord Tundra Witch was here for.

Sigrith was here to leave.

She'd said her parting words with Signe nights earlier, back in the bogs where the coven sisters held ceremony for her far travels. The ether called her south, and so as she always had, she would answer and, one day, she would return. Older, wiser, more broken for the worth, more ready to fulfill the duties of a Mother in the coven. She regretted nothing but the fact that Doggrave had not been near to bid farewell. Vand had fucked off to do whatever it was he did now and that was the least of her concerns.

The Witch and the Elf's journey back from Faarin, from the lands of the Pale King, had been long and cold. Sannoru had proven resilient, but she could tell the elf was tired and the cold had braced her bones for too long. What other she could tell were less obvious and more intuitive - something bothered her companion that wouldn't be aired. Not here, anyway. They'd bartered passage to the Hindlands with a regular Captain, one which Sigrith had a fair amount of familiarity with. For the price of five elk and a bushel of native medicinal plants, they'd come to an accord and would be leaving with the tide this very day.

Sigrith would have stayed on the ship with no reason to wander the market, but a curious shift in the winds and a pull of the lands bid her one final return. Someone or something was seeking her out - one of her coven sisters perhaps? Seemed unlikely, their ways were not that of prolonged miseries. So the witch found herself a seat on a crate on the docks just off the ramp of her ship and there she patiently prepared her smoking pipe to await whatever the fates had in store.

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

To say this market was a disappointment would be an understatement. Having grown up in the capital things outside of it always seemed small and fairly calm, even in the bigger settlements. Now, she couldn’t complain when knowing Withereach’s history. Roaming around the huts and stands she was followed by the coughing wherever she set her feet. A bit further, closer to the water and the port, her eyes fell upon a single figure whose hair matched the description she had been given. Among the dozens of people she’s met during her journey only this one had white locks.

Cautiously, carefully, she approached the woman. When her own violet eyes met those of different colour Mika’s hope grew exponentially. The emotion wasn’t all that hard to read. This journey she’s made all the way from the capital was in hopes of getting her hands on the one who might tell her more about her mother’s passing. About the horror that took so many Nordenfiir lives. Of course her eyes lit, lips trembled slightly, but she remained firm in her stance.

“You must be Sigrith? My name is Mikaela.” she started out quietly, politely. It was difficult of the young Nordenfiir to contain her story, to refrain from pouring all of her questions over this woman who might or might not have answers.

“My apologies for bothering you, but there are some questions I have to ask you. The Queen said you might have answers to some of them.” By the looks of it this one might be leaving soon. Mika really hoped that it wasn’t right now. Should Sigrith be taking her last look at the port, well, Mika would have to find a way to swim back to the shore without drowning, and that was after getting onto the ship without being noticed.

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

And much like one can come to expect the tide to return, the Witch greeted the young arrival with casual indifference. Eyes that looked to contain the night sky's aurora looked up through blackened outlines, ruddy hands carved a small piece of driftwood, the pipe sat pinched in her teeth through her lips. A stream of purple-hued smoke rose from the end, breathing into the frigid air like a resting dragon.

"Aye," replied the woman as girl spoke her name.

Seemed odd for an apology of the bother. No one much cared for the pressing needs or priorities of Witches. She lifted a brow at the words, adjusting her attention for the young one's benefit over the totem in her hands.

"Queen sent you..." the woman's eyes narrowed in thought at this. Gemaudelene had showed an impressive amount of interest in her, in so much as any interest was ever shown her beyond stock for breeding. Now to hear she thought so highly of her to recommend her word to others? Sigrith wasn't a Nordenfiir so she didn't have the nose to smell if the girl had yet found her Svalen, but her musk was pungent enough to tell she was of the blood.

"I see ..." Sigrith thought about pocketing her current project but opted to keep it out on a whim. Eyes narrowed, she gave a pull on her pipe before taking it from her teeth to hold it in hand. A moment was spent sizing up the girl, head tilted, before a plume of fresh smoke spilled from her nostrils and lips, "did the Queen also tell you that you must barter for answers from a Witch, kulean?"

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

“She didn’t, but I assumed so. If you have a safe spot we could talk, I could show you the goods you might be interested in.” Mika replied, calmly, but unable to get rid of the nervousness inside of her guts. All of the Nordenfiir and seemingly the Nords were into trading goods. Coins would bring you only that far, but Mika’s gathered some here and there throughout her travel down South. Aside from that there were a couple of other things she hoped the witch would find of interest. A sort of herb smelling of mint and a bit of tobacco. She had gotten that little bag from a foreigner she had managed to trace with the dragon. Then, there were the coins, worthless round pieces of gold, one would say down here, but should Sigrith plan to go further south, where money actually got you things, it might be handy. Aside from that there was the most precious thing she had, a small knife made out of Solstal steel. Quite rare especially so far from the capital. The interesting thing about it was how the curled hilt could fit a claw should one be helding it while changing shapes. Of course, if Sigrith was a Nord without the ability to shape-shift, that knife might be a bit lost on er. Regardless, Mika would show the items, once they were somewhere “safe”.

“I could hunt you elk or rabbits, bring you fur and bones, or herbs. Should you give me the time and find what I have to offer unworthy of the information you possess.” The young Nordenfiir let her know without hesitation. There was plenty she could do and would try to if that would lead her closer to the answer she was seeking.

“Maude spoke of a portal, one you were nearby. One that might have been the end of my mother’s life, of her entire party, if rumors are correct.” Now, they either moved for Sigrith to look at the good or split ways, with great disappointment on Mika’s side should the latter happen.

In fact, she wasn’t sure she would part way so easily. Stubbornness was a part of her just as pride was.

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

Sigrith did not budge from where she sat and instead only put her pipe back to her mouth for a fresh drag. She waved a hand dismissively at the notion of going somewhere safe, or collecting anything the girl thought she had of worth. Whatever Mika assumed she knew of Witches was about to be proven otherwise.

"We will speak here," said the Witch in a flat tone, purple smoke spilling from her lips, the narrowing of her eyes at the explanation the only token to any emotional response of what the girl spoke. The Red Mist Crisis was not something anyone who survived it wished to recount. Even for one such as herself, it was something that haunted her dreams and spoiled her rest. She wore the remnant scars of the corruption upon her left arm, hidden now by the many layers she wore.

It was a dark place of memory and one she was glad to leave behind her.

"For these answers you must give me one of your braids soaked in your blood."

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

The surprised expression marking Mika’s face wasn’t one she was capable of hiding. To speak in the middle of the street about quite sensitive matters.. well, while she knew that her people weren’t overly private about most matters, she had still expected that the witch would lead her elsewhere. But, out of respect for her as a person, mostly because of Maude’s words, Mika didn’t argue. Of course there was also the part where she worried that an argument would lead nowhere, but that’s where the bartering came in. It wasn’t less extraordinary in nature, though.

Both blood and hair could be used for magic. Whether Sigrith planned to use it to “see” beyond what was considered normal or actually planned to use those bits against Mika in some twisted way was unknown. It was a challenge, in the cub’s mind, a risk she had to take if she was serious about the things she wanted to know. Blood for blood. In a way it made sense. So, with little hesitation but plenty of confusion, she took out her knife and cut into the palm of her left hand. It sting, damn it stung more than she had expected it to. As the blood pooled in her palm she shook loose one of her longer, black locks and took hold of them. A handful of blood soaked into the bang she then cut off with one smooth motion.

Perhaps she was giving her life into the hands of a stranger now. Perhaps not.

Mika offered the blood-soaked hair to Sigrith, eyes wary but curious.

“Anything else?” she asked, politely. There was no challenge in her voice, no arrogance. She simply wanted to know if there was something else she needed before they could proceed.

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

The witch said nothing in return, taking the braid in her palm. Fingers wrapped around it briefly, squeezing the blood onto her own flesh and lifting the same hand to swipe a line of red across the bridge of her face, a line that ran from one eye and over her nose to the other. She then licked the remainder from her thumb.

Sigrith's eyes rolled slightly. The witch shivered.

"You may ask me three questions."

Mikaela Ryurik

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

The stress almost caused her to shake. An almost unbearable pressure settled down upon her shoulders when she got to ask three questions. Three. Not one, not four. Just three. This meant she would have to word them as carefully as possible in order to get a clear answer instead of an ambiguous one. With what she wanted to know that was nearly impossible. There were so many things she had to put together in order to grasp even a tiny fraction of what had happened in and around Faarin. With mother dead, or high likely so, but with no body ever seen or spoken about, she wondered if there was a chance that the woman had crossed to the other side. And if so, if there was a way to return those potentially lost to the other side of the portal.

“You were there, at Faarin, I’ve heard that from the Queen, tell me, please, should one enter the portal, could they return back alive?” Swallowing hard, she waited for an answer. Cold sweat covered her back, she almost felt feverish standing here in front of Sigrith.

The next question was on the tip of her tongue, but she had to be careful not to spill them before a reply was given. Should the reply be “no”, then asking whether they would return in a potentially turned form would be useless. Hence, Mikaela waited with fear in her heart.

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

If the witch noticed or felt sympathetic to the young cub's obvious state of duress she did not show it. Witches were fickle creatures - empathy was as valuable to them as information. Showing this cub compassion would gain her nothing and pretending that what happened at Faarin in the Red Mists was anything close to hopeful would grant her nothing but ill will.

"None who entered the red mists before us returned alive. None will enter or return again. The portal is destroyed." Sigrith's expression remained inscruitable.

"Next question."

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

Somewhere she had expected that very answer to be the truth. Yet, in the back of her mind, somewhere in the inside of the curvatures of her brain, she had hoped that she would say something else.

Taking the punch like a fist to the stomach she had to recover. Pale in the face, hands turned into fists she inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm down the upcoming panic and pain. Mental pain, one she had to bite through. A bitter pill to swallow.

“Is there knowledge in this world we can gain to open a portal like that again?” she wondered aloud. Perhaps feeling slightly insane to ask for a disaster to happen again. Though, it would be the only way to see whether they could get close to the nightmare that’s been there, in Faarin.

The tension was palpable. Mikaela waited again.

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

The witch blinked at her. Bold, confused, crazy young cub. No one in their right mind would wish to return to that place, especially not if they had already been there. Sigrith had, and she rightfully never wanted to go near it again.

"I do not know."

She replied shortly.

"Last question."

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

Despair was the feeling flooding her mind. If this one didn’t know then nobody would. Mika’s spirits started to fall. Rapidly she felt her hope crumble. During her trip she had made plans, had thought of ways to either get her mother back or avenge her. Unfortunately fate wasn’t on her side. For a brief moment she wanted to accuse Sigrith of telling lies. In fact, she almost tried to punch her with the fist that’s been forming throughout their conversation, but managed to control the jerk in her arm. It probably came across as a tremor, certainly to an untrained or unsuspicious eye.

Torn apart by the answers, she stared blankly at the witch. There were two questions now eating away at her soul. One was to ask if she was lying, but surely if she did then she could lie again. Above that, surely.. surely if someone with her renown would be saying nonsense then she wouldn’t have been such an extraordinary Nord. Most likely she would have been dead long ago, for lies were offensive and people living in the Nord were proud.

So, if she cast aside that question, the other one left was: “Did one of the traitors, one of the Boid'valhar kill her?”

* * *​

 

[Sigrith]

Brow furrowing, lips thinning, Sigrith blinked at the younger woman as if Mika had asked her if sky whales made the storms come. Had the Blod'valhar killed her mother? What in Broken Dreams did she think happened during the Red Mist Crisis? To lay blame on such a simple thing for such a horrendous event was near insult to those that had survived it and all those that had not.

"No," she replied, voice level, "those that died in the Red Mist Crisis were slain by the demons on the other side."

Her fingers uncurled from the braid in her hand and the hair suddenly caught flame - burning in a sudden flurry of purples and blues and greens until the entire thing vanished into thin air. The blood drawn across her face dissipated in a breeze, the witch cocked her head to one side, eyes rolling oddly upwards under their lids. She shuddered, blinked, and stood from her seat.

The young cub was given a cursory glance, "Honor your mother with a proper send off and ceremony. She is gone from this life."

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

Unsure if it was a relief at all, Mika stood frozen in her spot. There was no way of avenging her mother, no way of finding those responsible, or getting to them. Throughout her gazy thoughts came the realization that even if it had been possible to go ‘there’ wherever those demons resided. Nobody would go with her. Perhaps her father would, but he wouldn’t want her to die so.. there was no solution to this problem, to this sorrow, aside from what Sigrith suddenly told her. A proper burial. A hard thing to do with no body. Yet, with her hopes of getting her mother back ever again, perhaps that was the only option left.

“Thank you,” she slowly said, eyes still distant. Even the flames hadn’t spooked her, so deeply sunk in her own thoughts she was. “thank you for your time.”

There appeared to be nothing else to be said. An answer she had wanted and that’s what she had gotten, even if it wasn’t what her heart had truly desired to hear.

“Perhaps we’ll see each other again one day. I wish you good fortune.”

* * *​