Leafblade & Freelight: The Barracks

[mistral4543]

The first brush with this suspension business had shocked her. Anyone in the right frame of mind would be. So don't you worry, Gatha. You're alright. She had repeated the words, willing them to come true. Those pesky gods - if they are indeed gods - they're just out to scare a newbie, and you almost fell for it.

Now that she was left to her own devices, and no one to harass her at the moment, she paused in her steps; she had left the forest some time ago, and now she settled herself to think. It was difficult, this thinking business. There had not been too much demand for it back there, where life was simple and all were her friends.

If I'm neither in Heaven - which is true, because I still see the world around me - nor in Hell - which I doubt would be so colourful and vibrant in a good sort of way, I am... She hesitated, the word 'suspension' tasting exceptionally unsavoury in her lips... which brought her to another point, but more on that later.

Aren't I a ghostie? The more she thought of it, the higher the likelihood this was. Everyone - at least before she had been dumped in the forest - had described it so. Souls which left their bodies and wandered around were ghosties. And they had much fun, scaring the lights out of people. Doesn't that make 'suspension' a pompous version of the word 'ghosthood'? Mentally, she made a note to ask Myron that.

Yes, she had pronounced his name so many times by now - for fear of forgetting it, another pompous name this was! - that she had come to regard him as a long-lost brother. Hey there, Myron! She'd wave to him... if she had the hands, and again this was a point she had to get a grip on again.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a few seconds before re-opening them. Scrutinising down, she found to her half-disbelief that she actually did own a pair of hands, at least in shape. They were fuzzy in a translucent bluish grey, and she could move them at will. Carefully, she raised them and shifted them towards her line of vision. Drawing them nearer, she nearly squealed with delight as they contacted with a surface; she had a face, then! Her confidence regained, she now glanced down and heaved another sigh of relief as she discovered a pair of 'ghostie' feet. All was well, and she was about to whoop for joy when she gasped.

Sharp bursts of energy had afflicted her mind and chest, and she doubled over, panting. The forest... something had happened, and she could somehow still feel a connection to it...

Moment by moment, she began to understand.

You silly, sentimental shrubs, shouldering such sadness. She must be one of them then, to reciprocate their feelings. You have work to do, now that I'm gone. Don't wither, don't dither, don't forget your promise to this sister. She had not known that ghosties could feel immense pain; now she did.

You whimpering willows, why waste water? For she knew that they, too, had collapsed in grief, and pouring their woes to their relatives and all who cared to listen.

Torch, you champion. She would waste no poetry on him. I've made the right choice. Nothing else needed to be said. Torch he had been named, and torch-bearer he would be, of the forest, from now on.

As for the lot of you impish louts... Her vision was blurring now, as she realised also for the first time that ghosties could cry. You're not to tell your children that you tripped the Great Gatha, you hear me?! Yet amid the tears, she was smiling, recalling those embarassing moments.

Ah... now, you feel remorse, eh? She sniffed, wiping her eyes. Didn't want to listen to my stories now, did you? Well, you'll never have to fear that again, blech! Her tone softened quickly, however. Now, now.. your parents and grandparents are so sick of hearing me relay them. They'll surely be able to share the stories with you.

To all the rest at large, she could only close her eyes and summon all her energies, radiating what love and comfort she had to them, these faithful friends who had set up a wake for her.

There now, no crying, I said. She flushed, glad that they could not see her blubbering. Just remember not to eat me, alright, after the wake? She tried to chortle, snorting in her efforts. Just dump me into my pool or something. No need for anything showy or fussy.

So it was goodbye, forever, then. I don't want to go... really, I don't. The bluish tint of her eyes were turning almost purple by now. But I've had to, and there's nothing we can do about it. Except to remember each other. Sighing, she nodded to herself and brushed away her tears. We need to move on, my friends, with fond memories.

Wretchedly, she kicked her right foot with her left. "Move on!" Wincing, she resumed her journey again, mumbling to herself.

"Hey there, Myron! Isn't a suspended soul a ghostie..."

[ 08-03-2006, 10:23 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

[Deiter Leafblade]

Is this the right choice? Her father could be dying and the longer we get there the less time he has. Then again, if we die on the way to Alesbridge what good would that do us... Allowing himself to be towed away, Altair walked silently next to Robyn.

The entire situation he now found himself in boggled his mind. So many things could have changed or happened differently. The slightest event could have put him on a different path that would have ended up in the opposite direction of Robyn.

He glanced over at her as she walked next to him. The Robyn from his childhood was still there, but she had grown into a young woman. He realized he didn't know much about her anymore. His past memories were still with him, but she was no longer a little girl. People changed with time, and he was living proof of that.

Her hair was longer than he remembered, and her body had matured along with her age, which he felt his face turn warm at as he noticed for the first time her wet clothing clinging to her. Robyn's green eyes remained unchanged though. The energy and life he always saw in them was still there, along with the wisdom she had learned through the years.

Looking away, he busied himself with what he planned to do once they reached Alesbridge. Robyn would need to look after he father and rule the city in his absence, but what did that mean for him? He was just a thief now, and didn't know what he could offer to help her during her troubles. Altair knew he loved her, and he had known since they were children, but would that be enough?

Berad would laugh at you right now. He'd say how soft you're turning because of a girl. Are you really going to put away all those hard years of training? Did the experience mean nothing?

His expression turned serious as he thought of Berad. The older man was a teacher and father to him, but also his worst nightmare if he messed up a training session or didn't get out of his way after the man returned from the bar. If he had the choice to go back and change the course of actions he decided on with his path in life, he knew he couldn't say he regretted it.

If he had stayed at home he would be unhappily married to Vivian Jasper right now, dealing with his father's business affairs, and most likely out of contact with Robyn. His father would have saw her as a threat after the amount of work it would have taken to pry the two apart to begin with.

Breaking away from his thoughts, he looked up into the sky and noticed the sun creeping higher. The warmth attempted to dry their damp clothing as they continued on, unaware of what lay in their path ahead. Uncertainty and doubt with the touch of hope filled the young man beneath its morning light.

The dice keeps rolling in your favor so far Altair. How long will that luck last?

[ 08-05-2006, 04:18 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

[mistral4543]

Left... right... left... right... each step that they made took them nearer to Alesbridge, where her Papa was. She did not like to dwell upon it, but the word 'crippled' whispered itself with cruel malice into her ears, so that they stung against her eardrums and clawed at her soul.

Stop it, Robyn Mehlingard. An answering bark arose from another direction. You've caused enough trouble already. Don't think that by self-blame, you can lapse into a weakling who needs others' caring. For beside her, Altair looked as if he had his own share of things to worry about. You just move on with the cards you've been dealt with.

Yes... move on. Any other decision would be an act of irresponsibility. Chewing her lips determinedly, she continued to brisk walk, her green eyes glittering.

Then, feeling Altair's eyes upon her, she turned to catch his lingering gaze and the darker-than-usual shade of his cheeks. Almost simultaneously, her own flushed and she glanced away, walking even faster. This is just terrific, Robyn Mehlingard. At this rate, we'll reach Alesbridge in no time. The sarcastic observation, of course, was targeted at bringing herself to her senses. She could not deceive herself; she had been flattered by his expression, but it was folly and immodest to dwell on the thoughts behind them.

Altair. Yes, he had been, and continued to be the companion she opened her heart readily to. Yet the Altair today, as she had told herself last night, was not the Altair of yesteryears. Just the tales he had relayed were sufficient evidence that he had undergone a number of character changes. Please keep your word, Altair. Fear suddenly gripped her as a thought occurred to her. What if he falls? Will that give me an excuse to fall, too?

Then, as if the heavens took pity on her faltering courage, they sent the first beams of sunlight from above, shooting them into the pair's path. The effect brought a smile to her lips and leaning against Altair slightly, she whispered.

"Everything will be fine." Renewed optimism highlighted her features. "Everything will be fine, Altair, if we hold on to our beliefs."

[ 08-05-2006, 06:51 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

[dplax]

Troubled dreams plagued Esaha's rest, brought by the utter exhaustion her sudden release of energy had brought. In her dream beasts tore down the defences of Alesbridge, overwhelmed the guards and were making their way to the manor. Only one old man stood in their way, leaning heavily on a makeshift walking stick, which had been a spade just a few minutes earlier.

For some reason the beasts did not approach him, instead trying to circle round, but the old man always blocked them from reaching the door, pushing them away as two magnets of the same polarity would. The dream shifted focus, and from the low altitude Esaha realized that she must be looking through the eyes of an animal. Everything appeared in a different shade as to what human eyes would have seen and it was this that made her recognize the figure leaning on his staff only after several seconds. Her father had the same loving look in his eyes as when he had last looked at her in the cabin. Esaha just couldn't understand how he had made it here.

The old lady of the forest suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere and pointed at Esaha's father. The gesture sent the beasts into a frenzy and they rushed at the old man. Their combined weight crashing against him sent them tumbling against the door, with a loud crash. To Esaha's horror it was the beast from whom she was watching who bent down and ripped her own father's throat open. As the blood splurted out, Esaha awoke from her nightmare with a scream.

*BOOM* *BOOM*

The knocking on the door sounded suddenly as had the beasts crashing against the door. Esaha had no idea where she was, but she drew the blankets over her head to hide from the danger on the other side of the door.

*boom* *boom*

The knocks were losing some of their intensity but still paralyzed from terror, Esaha remained under the blankets, clutching them intensely.

*knock* *knock*

A more human dimension had entered the sounds and as sleep slowly evaporated from Esaha's eyes she realised that it had all been a dream. A really bad one, but still just a dream.

"Who's there?" she asked, unable to hide a note of caution from her voice.

[mistral4543]

You've cried enough because of her, Gerald. He treaded the hallway slowly, as if buying time for a moment of pensiveness. To attempt any tears now would be either an act of gross deception or one of cowardice. Indeed, why should he deceive himself that he was miserable, when all he felt now was the numbness that came after grief and indignation? And why deceive the servants - who continued to receive his outward calm with bafflement - simply to stop their wagging tongues or accusatory glances?

You have done all you could, and you are accountable to no one. Another stride along another corridor. He had forgotten how large this manor was, and the stroll now reminded him of earlier times. Times that now twisted his nerves a little. They do not understand, but they dare not ask. It was amusing, to be this exalted position. He wondered how many of the help had discovered his wife's infidelity before he had. Forgive them, Gerald. You have your own faults.

One of them was curtseying now, darting an inquisitive gaze at him which he caught; the girl flushed, curtseyed again and pattered off. No doubt to confirm her conspirators' suspicions that my heart has changed so swiftly. For he had rounded the corner and was now approaching the room in the west wing, where just a day ago, he had been laying at death's door. Death's door. The words reminded him of Yasmine's unsent letter, and he clenched his fist grimly.

Suddenly, though, he heard a scream emerging from the room ahead and ran towards it anxiously. My saviour. Was she in trouble? He banged twice on the door, then again when there was no response. Momentarily, he considered knocking the door down, but it seemed overly dramatic, not to mention uncouth. One more time then.

He rapped the door twice and was rewarded with her tentative reply.

"It's me. Gerald Mehlingard." He spoke firmly to show that his intentions were honourable. "Are you alright, and may I come in?"

[mistral4543]

As the horse gamely tore through the plains and forests, guilt began to eat at her. You can't push her like that, Acacia. She needs rest. After hours of non-stop riding, she herself was aching all over, what more the poor mare who had borne her ungrudgingly for that whole stretch of time. "Let's stop for now, Canna." There was a touch of pride in her voice as she said this, as she had come up with this name in the course of their travels and her companion had accepted it naturally.

As they slowed down to a trot and finally a halt, she swung herself off and tied Canna loosely to a tree. There was no need for a secure knot; the soft-hearted creature had taken to her as much as she had, to it; yet Canna could be wild enough to take care of herself in times of danger.

Sighing, Acacia sat herself beneath the tree, leaning against its trunk. Glancing up, she saw Canna's lowered snout and grinned. "Alright then." Patting it, she heard the mare's contented neigh and smiled despite herself. The best things in life can't be bought. In the background she heard the horse chewing the grass happily. And now... at last, she had this rare instant of peace to study the unexpected gift from the steward. Fumbling with the package - for package it was, rather than a singular booklet as she had mistaken it for - she untied the string. When the cover of the booklet had been turned, several letters fell out and she skimmed through them, her eyes suddenly alert with concentration.

March the 13th, 931

Lord Freelight,

This letter confirms the admittance of Miss Anneliese into our temple. Once again, we thank you for your confidence in our services.

Brother Ambrose,
Temple of the Heironeous
-------------------
June the 18th, 931

Lord Freelight,

This letter seeks to inform you that Miss Anneliese's health is satisfactory. She is coping with her environment, but it will take time for her to adjust completely.

Brother Ambrose,
Temple of the Heironeous
-------------------
November the 11th, 931

Lord Freelight,

This is to inform you that Miss Anneliese's spirits continue to be rather low and her appetite, decreasing. However, her penitence is real, and in that you may be assured.

Brother Ambrose,
Temple of the Heironeous
-------------------
March the 14th, 932

Lord Freelight,

We received your letter yesterday with some surprise. We will respect your wishes, however, in ceasing all correspondences with regard to Miss Anneliese.

Brother Ambrose,
Temple of the Heironeous
-------------------
December the 1st, 949

Lord Freelight,

I understand from my predecessors that you had no wish for further news of Miss Anneliese. I am writing to you, however, because Miss Anneliese has caught a bad case of influenza. The temple urges you to prepare for the worst, and if you should desire it, we will be more than pleased to make the necessary arrangements for her to spend her last months with her family.

Brother Luthor,
Temple of the Heironeous
-------------------
January the 20th, 950

Lord Freelight,

We wish to inform you that Miss Anneliese passed away at the break of dawn today. She died peacefully, with no last words.

Brother Luthor,
Temple of the Heironeous

There was a horrible feeling clutching Acacia's heart as she perused the letters, as if... as if I ought to feel upset, or something. Perhaps it was the look on the steward's face that had hinted at this, and she carefully folded the letters, placing them aside.

Turning to the diary instead, she went through the pages, her eyes widened at her discovery as she uncovered the life of the mysterious Anneliese:

August the 5th, 929

I wanted to say hello to you, because you're really such a lovely gift from Aragorn (if you didn't know, already, he's my beloved brother and your benefactor, releasing you from the bookstore). He does have exquisite taste, I'll admit it as much. Well, take care and I'll share my secrets with you as soon as I've worthy ones to relate.
-----------------------------

August the 10th, 929

What do you know, dear Tatyana (for that's the name I'm giving you; do you like it?)? I have a great big secret at last, and you're the first one I'm sharing it with, so listen carefully!

I'm in love, Tatyana... and it's not a crush, not some half-baked romance that ignorant people speak of. He is perfectly gentlemanly and caring, and it matters not that he's not a noble. He's wonderful, I tell you, and you'd agree if you met him... but you can't (for I can't let him see this entry, can I?), so you'll have to take my word for it. I'll write again, if I've more news.
----------------------

December the 25th, 929

I'm sorry for not writing much, Tatyana. But I know you'll forgive the miseries of an inexperienced woman. Yes, I say woman and not girl - as the others like to call me, for that is how Shane views me, and I'll never leave him again. There'd been such uncertainties earlier, him being so worried about my welfare that he wanted us to part. But I wouldn't hear of it, Tatyana... I couldn't live without him, and I blurted this out so unmaidenly! Before I knew it, I was in total bliss... and today, oh, today I shall remember forever.

I am wedded to Shane, my darling Tatyana. I don't need your best wishes; I know a lifetime of happiness awaits us.
-----------------

April the 19th, 930

I wish I'd not spoken so soon of eternal bliss, Tatyana. Shane goes to battle today! My heart is heavy with worry, for he valiantly signed up to join Aragorn's battle with Arrakis at Seregduin - wherever that is, it is a horrid place!

I'd begged him not to go, for Aragorn doesn't know about our marriage yet and if he did... but anyway, Shane felt bad about not helping his brother-in-law, so he just took off. Tatyana, you must protect Shane and our unborn baby. I'll do anything to protect them both; I swear.
-----------------

July the 3rd, 930

It is all over, Tatyana.

I have lost Shane.
----------------

December the 26th, 930

I'm exhausted and in excruciating pain, Tatyana, but I had to tell you.

My beloved Anya was born one day after what would have been Shane's and my wedding anniversary.
-----------------------


Jolting, Acacia nearly gasped as she read the sentence. Anya. This was what Grandma had called her, ever since she could remember anything. I'm the Anya. She choked on her breath, grasping the reality of the situation. My mother Anneliese... she's been in a temple since shortly after I was born!

She did not have to read the rest of the diary to guess what had happened next. Her dear, generous uncle - the one who had so readily paid maintenance fees to Grandma so that both of them could live in comfort and he, in some form of conscience - had sent her mother away to exile. Left her there to repent her so-called misdeeds.

Wave upon wave of consternation hit her as she considered the enormity of the history that lay before her. Parents she had never known... an uncle who had till his death still insisted on his being right... and whom she would have remained grateful towards, had she not chanced upon this ugly web of falsities... with revulsion, she snapped the diary shut, tied up her bundle and kept it safely within her belongings.

There would be plenty of time in the future to deal with this.

For now, what she had to do was catch up with rest, alongside Canna. How nice it is to be a beast, without the cares of the world. Rehan was still alive, and the alive needed more help than the dead.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a troubled sleep.




[ 08-05-2006, 11:44 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

[dplax]

Gerald who? she thought for a moment. Gerald, Gerald...she mulled over the name, finally realising that it was none other than Lord Gerald standing outside the door. Shaking the last vestiges of the nightmare from her mind, she stood up, smoothing out a crease in her shirt.

Once standing, she found that she had barely enough energy to keep on her feet, and had to balance herself against the wall. Opening the door also took quite an effort. Esaha wondered how she had lost so much energy, and then remembered the events of the last night, how she had called upon a power she did not know she possessed and how she had made Lord Gerald whole again.

And there he stood outside, his armor and garments soaked with the blood of what she hoped was foes. Gerald looked definitely to be unharmed and the look on his face was not one of pain, but of concern. For her, she realised.

"Err...I'm fine. It was just a pretty bad dream. I do still feel exhausted though, despite all that sleep." A sudden pang of hunger made her realise that the exhaustion was most likely from a lack of energy. She did not exactly understand what had happened the last night, but whatever it was, it must have taken a large amount of energy from her.

"I..." she broke off, not sure how much she could intrude on the Lord's hospitality. "I'm also quite famished." She had meant to say 'hungry' but the word had just blurted itself out, as if her body knew better than the mind what needed to be done. Esaha glanced sheepishly at Lord Gerald, hoping that he brought good news from the battle.


OOC: I'm also working on a post for Sean, but right now I'm too tired to finish it. Tomorrow it shall be. [img]smile.gif[/img]

[ 08-05-2006, 06:41 PM: Message edited by: dplax ]

[mistral4543]

"Of course." Gerald spoke gravely, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress his amusement. Amusement it was, but of a fond and not derogatory nature. He had not expected her to have awakened so soon after what must have been a lifeforce-draining feat. Excusing himself, he strided to the hallway and shouted his orders before returning to her, helping her to an armchair. Sensing her tired but concerned eyes upon his bloodstained armour, he quickly stopped himself from lowering himself onto the other chair.

"You're worried about the battle, I can see that." He pursed his lips, wondering how much detail he ought to go into; some of the scenes he had taken in were not exactly pretty, and there was no need to be to graphic, especially for a girl young enough to be his daughter and who seemed still in a trance at times.

"No one won." It was true. Had the animals not departed, he doubted that Alesbridge could have claimed a victory. There was no triumph, only relief on this day. Once upon a time, he might have twisted the outcome to his advantage, paraphrased the ending so that it reflected well upon his leadership; but she who had advised him to do so was deceased, and the instructions she had given were no longer palatable, in view of her act of disloyalty to him.

"There have been casualties on both sides, as can be expected from battles of such scale." He fixed his dark green eyes upon her pale complexion. "You need not be overly concerned; the injured are being nursed back to health." That was all she needed to know, really. He heaved a sigh of liberation as he finished his piece.

Watching her, he made no further attempt at heavy conversation topics, apart from finding out her name. I will find out more about her, at another time. In the silence that followed, he perceived that the mannerisms of the stranger were a complete contrast to Robyn. The diversion lasted briefly, however, when his anxiety for his daughter returned.

At any rate, the filly was not sighted at the battle, and the forest seems to have lost some of its power. There is hope, then, that wherever she is, she is relatively unharmed. Striving to rid himself of unnecessarily depressing thoughts, he made small conversation with Esaha.

Before long, a basin of piping hot soup and a basket of freshly baked bread had arrived, followed by several slabs of choice meat. Excusing himself so that Esaha could eat without any reservation, he headed for his own bedroom to clean up and catch up on some rest.

[ 08-05-2006, 07:33 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

[Deiter Leafblade]

Beliefs? He was uncertain what his beliefs were now. Meeting Robyn was the start of a path he knew he was willing to attempt but was unsure of the ending. What would someone else do in his position?

"Hold the bow like this, and then pull back the string and shoot." Altair let the arrow fly and was rewarded with a soft thud of the arrow biting into dirt. His uncle shook his head disapprovingly and notched an arrow into his own bow.

The frame of it was a stained black and made from black locust wood, or so his uncle had told him. Altair wasn't quite sure what difference the wood made, but he absorbed the information he was given.

"Watch again. You need to make sure you keep your arm steady and pull back far enough for the force required with the distance." Quickly aiming for the distance target, Jeremiah let the arrow loose and watched with satisfaction as it plunged into the bull’s-eye. Altair felt his face turn red that he was bested repeatedly, and the target wasn't even that far away.

"Altair!" The young boy looked over his shoulder to see Robyn running to them. She explained how she had been watching them and wanted to give it a try. Jeremiah chuckled at the thought of a young girl trying to shoot a bow, but handed it to her at her determined gaze. The taunt string was hard for her to pull back, but she managed well enough and both males watched in astonishment as the arrow whistled through the air and hit the target.

Jeremiah slapped Altair on the back and laughed that he had just been beat by a girl younger than himself. "Good thing your father wasn't out here! I have to admit though, the look on his face would have been memorable." Altair felt embarrassment, pride, and envy all in one. While he was proud Robyn had managed to pull off that shot, he also felt ashamed it wasn't him who had done it and impressed her with it. The thought was foolish though, and he decided he would have Jeremiah train him later on.

Jeremiah was an honest man and stout warrior. Altair would often look up to him when he was dealing with uncertain choices, and had wished Jeremiah would trade places with his father. Ruben Swizec was a caring man in his own way, but the majority of the time he would only look out for the family as a whole rather then individuals within it. If marrying Altair to Vivian Jasper would help the Swizec family regardless of if his son approved of the idea, he would set it into motion.

He offered Robyn a faint smile at her words and then turned his gaze ahead.

[ 08-05-2006, 09:48 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

[Deiter Leafblade]

Rehan sat down heavily at a spare chair inside the kitchen. He had been helping wounded soldiers into the infirmary, and when there was no longer any room there into spare beds and other places of medicine inside the city. The heat from the stoves warmed his body after the stormy battle not long ago. Soup and a chunk of bread were placed before him, which he inhaled quickly.

Across the table sat the man he had met earlier with the gash slicing open his chin. He had the unpleasant experience of having it stitched back up and Rehan could sympathize with him. "I was supposed to stay in bed, but I got hungry and made my way down here to get some food. Not suppose to do that I recon, but I need my energy for my girls."

Rehan nodded and gulped down the ale that was given to him. At the sound of shouts, he turned and noticed the cooks shooing out soldiers that had wandered in. "Get back to your rooms! We don't need blood or any disease inside the kitchen! An older woman shouted sternly.

"I think that's our cue that we're unwelcome." Rehan grinned at him and helped the man up as they made their way out into the hall. "I'll take you back to the southern wing, and when you wake up tomorrow you can go see your family." The older man nodded and allowed himself to be lead to where the rest of the wounded soldiers were located inside the manor.

Shutting the door behind him, Rehan slowly made his way back to his room. Fatigue ate away at him as thoughts of a warm bed and secure room began to lull him to sleep. Snapping his head up, he stumbled the rest of the way to him room kicked off his blood stained armor as fast as he could. Darkness overtook him the second his head hit the pillow.

[ 08-05-2006, 09:49 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]