Private Tales Who Says Aerai Eyes are Blue

[Erën]

Erën should have known better. But he, like many others, was tasked by this conflict. It drove him to push boundaries he'd long stayed away from, and go places he knew all too well to avoid. Arkhivom and his would have no such compunction, but of all places in this land, Nórë Sérë...

No soul who entered into what remained of that city ever left there the same. Erën, for his part, hadn't even made it so far as to see it. Ambushed by a pack of Gwathui, he wound up separated from his party and given chase.

More swift than most, he rushed over gnarled roots and through the cracks of thick brush. And for some time did the monsters chase him, long enough for him to be far away from that place, and after a while, far from the dreaded monsters, finally giving up their pursuit.

For a short while, knelt down near a softly running creak, he lingered and listened. He remained cautious, as the enemy was often times quite persistent. But, on his own, Erën was able to cover a great deal of ground very quickly. He doubted the fiends would be able to find him. Then, in the distance, he heard the sound of some voices calling to one another. They did not sound urgent or like the rallying of troops. Rather, more like the beckoning of one home for dinner.

Intrigued, he started through the forest toward the voices, and he started to wonder just how far he'd wound up taking himself.

 

[Hilte]

History always had a way of catching up and this was exactly why the surrounding forests and glens beyond the Village of Crue and the home of the elf hermit Hilte had been peppered by magical barriers, traps, and alarms.

Amidst the evening warmth, Hilte returned from a long wander through the trees with one arm looped through the handle of a wicker basket and the other pressing ferns from her path with the length of her wooden staff. Though the trees were thick near her home, sometimes the late evening sky broke through the canopy within the clearings along the deerpath. Hilte paused within such a place to take in the view of wane stars beginning to appear and the light of the moons pooling through the leaves overhead.

That was when she felt the tingle along spine. Normally the raising of hairs was only in response to a cool evening breeze. Tonight she saw the faint flash of her broken wards flare through the sky overhead like a shooting star that faded well before it fell.

"Hm," said the elf, "been a while since that's happened..."

She would need to investigate. After all, her traps were set off by the presence of malignant beings the likes of which had ruined far more lives than any had the right to count. Not just was their demise the drive to hasten her steps home and don her armor and mask, but many of those creatures contained essences and elements that were quite useful in crafting medicinal remedies.

The years had shifted a mind that so readily went only for the kill to one that also sought out purpose and use.

So off she went into the twilight.


~~~

"Daesca! Fallin!" the voice of a woman hollering into the edge of the woods, "Come in now, supper's on the - oh!"

She startled at the movement within the trees, spying the glimmer of white hair and the gleam of bright eyes, "That you Hilte? Have you seen ma pups? They went your way not an hour ago."

 

[Erën]

Long had it been since Aeraesar had been plagued by such evils. While their most hallowed grounds, their great cities had all been cursed and shrouded in darkness, even the spans in between fell victim to the monsters. While not everywhere was blighted, he had not yet fathomed that some place could be so... untouched.

And indeed, it was as he had thought! But the closer he drew, the more questions begged an answer.

Hilte?

As started out from the treeline, he lifted his hands as to show himself as friendly, and he declared, "I am Erën, and I'm afraid I've not seen any... pups."

He cast a look over his shoulder as a dour feeling fell over him.

 

[Hilte]

The woman's lip twitched at the absence of any pup sightings and she gave a sharp grunt in response, "Rangey kids... well they know the way home. Probably off catching firebugs."

But she gave Eren a look over, curiosity strong amidst assumption, "You her brother then?" A brow arched as she looked him over again a bit more slowly, then seemed to change her mind and dismissed the idea of a lover altogether.

"Too dour for that..." she muttered, "well if you're waitin' on her you can wait at the table. Got enough for a guest, 'specially if those pups don't come home soon! Come on then." With a wave she turned and headed back up the path toward the village.

 

[Erën]

Despite the caution that ebbed at him, the confusion of this place seemed to outweigh that by a degree. His attention snapped back to the lady in front of him as she made mention of a brother. But then this again was surmounted by the sheer audacity of this woman! Turning her back and meandering back toward her home.

He was of course not insulted by any means, but how casually she had taken to her children not being immediately present, that seemed peculiar. Still, he resigned himself to remain silent on the matter. After all, if they had persisted for this long despite everything that was happening around them, then perhaps this was just like any other time for them.

"Very well, then," he said. He wasn't particularly hungry, but some water would do.

 

[Hilte]

"Not seen another one of you around here before," said the woman as she walked, her stride slightly hobbled by an old injury or perhaps arthritis, "then again I suppose you lot like your privacy and I cannae fault you for that. With those two pups runnin' amok I can hardly hear meself think half the day..."

She continued to natter on about simple country living all the way back to town.

The Village of Crue was not a large place and hosted a population of less than 50 people with a smattering of multi-story homes to house families within in order to keep the footprint contained upward instead of outward.

It had an air of magic about it, though nothing actively detectable. Something about it would strike a newcomer as strange, off, ethereal. If the woman was any indication of the other residents, it seemed the people here lived without any worry or, perhaps, any knowledge of the wider horrors beyond their little hamlet.

"Name's Quinn," said the woman as she lead him past the first home and to the one that stood just beyond it. In through the front entry and down the hall to the kitchen, "Arn, got a guest."

"Is it Hilte?"

"No, not Hilte, think it's her brother..."

 

[Erën]

He couldn't help the feeling over wonderment that fell over him as he was led into this place. Crue was not a place particularly known to him. If he delved into the depths of the Shoraes with the intent of finding such knowledge then perhaps he would indeed find it, but for himself he could safely say he'd never heard of this place.

And too, the feeling the prevailed here, beyond his wonderment that it remained so untouched, was perhaps the reason why. The magic that was prevalent here did not go unnoticed by him, so attuned as he was. It was far to familiar to go unnoticed by the likes of he.

Even still, he could not place it, only perceive it in some distant sense. And it filled his mind with questions, evermore, as all of this had since the beginning. Further mentions...

Not seen another one of you....

Is it Hilte?... Brother?

They obviously saw a resemblance between he and someone else, and before long he surmised - with a relative surety - they were no doubt referring to none other than another Aerai.

As he entered into the dwelling, he asked, "This, Hilte you speak of? I do not know them, but I would speak with her if I could."

 

[Hilte]

"No?" Quinn asked as she moved about their kitchen and began to pull out extra setting pieces for their guest, "Huh - I'm sure you could when she comes through town on her evening walk. Every night, sure as the moon rises, she comes walking up the lane."

But on this night, even after supper (or just water, as it were for the stranger elf) the one called Hilte did not arrive as she usually did.

"Hmmm," remarked Arn as he sat in his chair on the porch with a pipe and a small cup of local brew, "late tonight."

The moons were risen and showing crisply in the clear skies above, washing everything in a silver sheen. It was a calm and peaceful night with the din of frogs and nightlarks broken only by the sounds of the evening insects or a hooting owl.

Time passed and Arn finished his pipe, tamping out the char in his cup and standing to go inside.

"If yeh need a place to stay for the night, we've a spare room in the back."

He bid the stranger a good evening and stepped inside, presumably to take himself to bed.

More time passed. The moons hung high. The Village of Crue lay tucked in and quiet.

In the darkness from the edge of the wood at the far end of town, a lone figure emerged caped in the color of bone with the shadow of a dark creature slung over one shoulder while a tall staff of white birchwood lead the way in the other. Violet eyes blinked out from behind the mask of an owl.

 

[Erën]

On through dinner, and out onto the porch, Erën talked with Quinn and Arn, and the mood very quickly became quite casual. Already eased by the likeness he shared with someone they knew, it was made all the more simple for the two countryfolk to hear only a little more of Erën to bid him quite welcome.

As Arn retired for the evening, Erën was left to his thoughts as he sat there on the porch, his sword-belt slung over the backrest of the chair he rocked on. And as his eyes peeked out from beneath the canopy, he beheld the moons above.

Embers burned within his own pipe as he mused the lights in the sky. Then as he settled back into his seat and looked out before him. The land looked silver and grey out in the near colourlessness the light of night showed to his eyes. But though some deeper beauties of the world may become lost in the night, an Aerai's eyes were all the more keen for it in even the dimmest light.

He saw at first only movement.

Then, as she drew nearer, he saw clearly the lines and features of the one who approached as they passed through the treeline, and so vibrant were their eyes did he see their brightness - just like any Aerai. But, he could not help but fixate on the luminosity in this ones eyes. It was different. Darker, yet still bright. Violet?

He was reminded of his trials in the Spine, and the twisting of hues that overtook the sword he once wielded...

He stood, as if on ceremony, and stepped forward to the edge of the porch.

 

[Hilte]

She walked through the dale calm and content, the horrible creature slung over her shoulder like a sleeping child. Her steps were quiet among the gentle swishing of her cloak and the songful sounds of the evening. This a path she took every night, walking beneath every phase of the moons one could imagine. All weathers. All seasons. Year after year. For over 100 years she had walked the sloped road through the Village of Crue, allowing her presence to permeate the lands, the homes, the people that lived here to protect them for another day.

On no night had she ever come across another of her kind. Not until tonight.

Hilte could sense the presence of another, for by now she had given so much of herself to Crue that she was the village and the village was she. The Aerai's step never slowed and her calm never rippled. She did not stop until she her path crossed in front of the home of Quinn and Arn where the stranger stood on the porch watching and waiting for her.

For several moments she gazed up at him from behind her mask, contemplating his arrival and what it would mean for her. For Crue.

"This explains the gwathui," she said finally, tone level though hollow as it sounded from behind the mask. "You likely have many questions," for it had been as long as she had traveled this road that she no longer heard the voices of her people and could not, tonight, hear his own, "you may follow."

Without another word, she turned, adjusted the dead gwathui on her shoulder, and carried on along her route as she would any other night on her way home to her cottage deep in the forest.

 

[Erën]

In the silence that lingered between them, each one seemed drawn into deep thought at the sight of one another. Erën surely was, for as though he could see as plainly before him someone who's mind he should also feel, and quite readily, he did not. So when she said plainly that he likely had many questions, he replied with a nod.

And so, grabbing up his belt and stepping down from the porch, he began following after her down the road to wherever it was she'd lead him.

After only a short while, he spoke, "the others, they said your name was Hilte? I am Erën.

I did not know of this place, or that any place in Aeraesar could be so..." he cast his eyes around, "...peaceful."

As he followed, his eyes tended to linger on the gwathui she'd draped over her shoulder. He found it curious that she would bring such a thing along with her. He was content to let them lay where he slew them.

 

[Hilte]

That name meant something. Maybe. Eren was not an uncommon name, but perhaps a shortened form of a longer one. She decided not to spend too much time on it, as the consequence of his name would make itself known when it needed to.

"It was under the protection of a Priest named Heiter before I arrived here," she replied to him as she continued along the path, now taking them out of the village and along a winding road that lead back into the forest.

"He helped me in my own time of need and in return I agreed to watch over his people after his death. I've been here ever since." Three generations now, that she was aware of. Quinn had not even been born when she arrived. Nor Arn. Nor many of those that would now be considered the adults of the village.