Fantasy Of Ashes and Snow

[Solirus]

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Juju ​

There was a brief moment of relief, as he saw Brinne's form return to that of a person, a sign of sound sleep. Suriel wondered why they returned to their original forms. Was maintaining an animalistic form a sort of concentration, did they have to actively maintain the form instead of simply transforming into it? Was it like holding one's breath? Suriel let part of his mind wander through those thoughts while the cool breeze of the night flowed through, rustling leaves accompanied by the choir of critters and creatures. Standing watch, was always tedious, he could not imagine how guards could stand for hours with hardly any stimuli. Perhaps that's why town guards tend to be chatty, else they'd end up as mad as a lungless devil.

Amusing himself with stray thoughts, Suriel could notice the subtle rhythm of nature becoming silent until even the rustling leaves seemed to die. He felt an all too familiar sensation. Tonight was dark, but in the location of their camp, it was bright enough that Suriel managed to pop out, his golden eyes a useful tool for intimidation, but a poor means of hiding unless obscured.

Remaining calm, Suriel slowly stepped down from his boulder, searching around to pick up a stone the size of a fist. Suriel inspected the rock, appearing confident even when he knew someone or something was watching. Pulling his attention back, he scanned around the area, before returning to his sitting position atop the boulder. Going out there would be potentially dangerous without knowing their exact location. However, time was on his side, eventually the sun would rise again, and they would be forced to retreat or be revealed by sunlight. Thus, if there was someone here, they would have to reveal themselves, and when that happened, Suriel would be ready.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The tense silence stretched onward as Suriel waited for whatever was hidden in the shadows to make its move. He felt its unseen gaze linger on him, watching, waiting. After an uncomfortable silence, the source of the unrest finally emerged from beneath the cover of shrubs.

A thin, black stoat padded out from beneath some leaves, its beady eyes regarding Suriel from where it sat. For any other person, nothing would seem amiss, but for those blessed with divine sight it would appear otherwise. An uncanny energy cloaked the small carnivore, gathering behind its eyes which were too knowing, too keen for the average beast. As if there was more than just one set of sights locked onto Suriel. The unsettling feeling he had felt in the air seemed to indicate something more malicious than he had once thought. Should he inspect the creature closer, he could detect a hint of the demonic staining the creature.

It revealed this almost deliberately, a certain smugness to its ermine muzzle.

 

[Solirus]

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Juju ​

As expected, the watchful presence revealed itself, its soft and small paws, loud compared to the unnatural silence. Moving his gaze to meet the creature, Suriel identified it quickly as a black stoat, a harmless creature under normal circumstances, but its behavior was the first sign of warning he spotted. Suriel's eyes glowed further, revealing to him the sickly and unnatural aura of the stoat. Something that did not belong in this world, something demonic.

The stoat approached Suriel, smug, almost taunting him to focus on it. Years of experience were recalled to Suriel reminding him of a truth many demons shared, when they wanted something, they never played fair. Maintaining composure, Suriel was able to spot three further presences, a much larger one approaching him and two smaller ones approaching Brinne and Roderick. Though the situation was far from amusing, Suriel couldn't help but be reminded of how predictable demons were in their dishonesty.

Suriel sighed, standing up again from his spot on the boulder. He could alert them both of the incoming dangers, that was his job as night watch after all, however doing so would also cause the demons to approach faster. Suriel lightly tossed the rock in his hand, playing it and getting a feel for its weight. Instantly, Suriel appeared to throw the rock at the stoat only to have it change directions, throwing the rock directly at the presence approaching Brinne. The rock flew at dangerously high speeds, cutting throw the air, any normal creature with its guard down would likely perish to it.

Without waiting another second, Suriel sprung to action, charging towards the second presence approaching Roderick, ready to intercept both of them while also creating distance from the larger one.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The stoat remained perfectly still, unconcerned, even as the rock was thrown at it and changed directions. It thudded against someone within the bushes, someone who let out a grunt of pain, but continued onwards nonetheless.

With quick movements, Suriel easily intercepted a skinny looking man bearing a dagger and hood just as they approached Roderick and Tulip. The movement spooked the horse awake. She whinnied with fear and bolted up, sending Roderick's head crashing down onto the soil. The bulky man was completely unfazed by neither chaos nor blunt trauma, and continued to snore away as if nothing was amiss.

Brinne bolted upright, swapping into and out of a sheep form in her spark of fear and confusion. Bleary-eyed and groggy, she looked around wildly for some explanation. The first thing she saw was Suriel attacking a hooded figure and completely froze, sitting in the grass.

"What? N-no..." she sputtered, unaware that a hooded figure, crouched over at an odd angle, was rushing up to her from behind.

A hand fell over her mouth, dragging her back towards the glint of a dagger. In a flurry of white fur, the hand was engulfed in wolfish teeth, splattering blood in the pale moonlight. The person beneath the hood let out a cry of pain, but did not loosen her grip despite all of Brinne's thrashing. Using the dagger, they made a slow, deliberate cut across the wolf's neck, the black edge of it cutting through fur and flesh with ease.

Suriel managed to strike the figure before anything more than a small cut was made. Strangely, despite being heavily wounded, the figure seemed not to care for its pain or injuries. Reaching out a bloody hand, they gripped onto Brinne's paw and uttered some unholy incantation. Howls of pain turned into human cries as Brinne was forced out of her wolf form and immobilized from agony. Both her shed tears and the blood from her cut turned dark red, nearly black, as the attacker held onto her wrist.

Back towards the boulder, the stoat watched. Behind it, the large entity Suriel had noticed now crashed out of the shadows. Its body twisted in the moonlight, elongating into a painfully thin demonic creature. Demonic energy radiated off of it as it leapt for Suriel, extending infernal claws.

 

[Solirus]

Juju ​

Suriel tackled the hooded figure to the ground, who tried to retaliate by stabbing him with a dagger, which merely bounced off plated armor. When dealing with the demonic. Suriel raised both arms and putting both hands together to form a ball. Aim for their head. Suriel violently swung down, splattering the figure's skull into the ground. Then destroy the torso to minimize mobility should they rise again. Suriel stood back up, stomping the figure's chest and leaving a boot sized hole through their chest.

Removing his foot, Suriel could practically sense the larger presence near him. Along with cries from Brinne, afflicted by an unholy incantation. Her safety was his priority over the death of this creature and his dignity.

With his back turned to the lunging demon, Suriel's left wing unfurled, swinging at the demon with enough force to push it back, crashing towards the boulder. Surely broke into a sprint to the figure who was holding Brinne, his eyes increasingly golden, overshadowing the moonlight.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The demon was caught mid-leap by Suriel's wingstrike, flinging the lanky creature back against the boulder. It hissed, crumbling to the ground as it regathered its bearings. It gave him enough time to charge unchallenged at the figure holding onto Brinne.

She could hardly think straight, wracked with an intense pain that clawed through every inch of her body. It was as if the blood within her veins were boiling up, searing her from within. It all condensed in her chest, the pressure so intense that Brinne swore her very heart was about to burst. Her eyes were closed shut, forcing the bloody tears out of the corner of her eyes into thin trails down the sides of her face.

As the red demonic aura heightened around her, a sliver of light glow from within the fabric of her shirt. Sensing the shift, Brinne cracked an eye open. Both Brinne and the figure glanced down at the glow, sharing a mutual look of shock at the development. It lasted for no more than a heartbeat before Suriel was upon the figure, separating the two.

Brinne fell to her knees and doubled over, clutching her chest and gasping for breaths.

The demon creature had recovered from its tumble against the boulder and let out a shriek, once more lunging towards Suriel. At this point, it was completely ignoring Brinne.

 

[Solirus]

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Juju ​

Suriel wasted little time closing the distance with the figure in front of him once Brinne had been separated. With a single slap to the head, the figure was practically slammed to the ground. Not that it seemed to hinder them nor kill them, as they didn't seem to feel any pain. With the demonic beast approaching, it would be troublesome to try to finish off this figure whilst dealing with the larger threat.

An idea popped into his head as he reached down, grabbing the figure's foot and turning to slam them directly into the creature like a flail. Blood splattered and bone's shattered as the figure's body collided with the creature. Perhaps this way he could kill two birds with one bird.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The figure died on impact with the demon, its form unable to sustain the accumulation of their injuries. As for the demon, it crumbled to the ground, broken and gargling with the last of its infernal life. Part of its body was burning up, turning into embers as its form ran out of the energy sustaining it. Ever spiteful, the creature weakly lifted its claws in an effort to cause more harm before it perished.

At this point, the red-eyed stoat had turned away to hop off back into the woods, disappearing into the low-hanging vegetation.

Brinne continued to stay doubled over, still clutching her chest while grimacing. Her cries had died down into strangled whimpers, the bloody tears replaced by a more natural variety. The brief glow on her chest had also vanished, though she was clearly still in great pain.

Oblivious to it all, Roderick continued to snore in the bloodstained grass.

 

[Solirus]

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Juju ​

The figure had proven to be farm more frail than what he'd anticipated, freakishly so. Perhaps it was to be expected, were these individuals more powerful and prideful, they would not have resorted to such cowardly tactics. Then again, that was hindsight, demons always sought to get what they wanted through any means they deemed fit. And just so he saw the demonic creature on its last breath, weakly attacking for a final time as an act of pettiness and defiance. Suriel, raised his foot ready to crush the demon's claw, but the sizzling sound of flesh and the putrid burning smell froze him. His breath grew heavy as the demon slowly vanished from the land. He could feel the weight of the figure he held, their body nothing more than dangling bones in a sack of flesh. It felt wrong, it was grotesque how easily he'd shattered this body, staining all around him.

It would be Suriel's wing that would swat the demon's arm away, ripping it from his body as it shattered into ash, impacting a nearby tree. Unfazed and diligent did the wings remain as Suriel felt the rest of his body tense and shake, his heartbeat louder than ever. Clumsily, he would drop the figure's body, turning away and stumbling towards a tree. He felt dizzy, awful, almost in disbelief at what he'd done, why was it so easily dismissible before.

Finally, the smell was gone, the sizzling ceased, and the demon banished from this land. Suriel took a few deep breaths, only now hearing Brinne's cries and what had happened to her, but perhaps he too needed some time to recover.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The pain ebbed, enough to slow her racing heart and quell the ragged breaths. Brinne hugged onto herself and lifted her head, her eyes falling squarely onto the broken, twisted corpse Suriel had left behind. When she saw it, her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. She scrambled backwards on her hands and knees, trying to get as far away from the corpse as possible. Wildly, she glanced around, searching for some sign of what had just happened. A sign that this wasn't a nightmare.

"S-suriel?" she muttered, not even remembering the fake name she was supposed to be using.

Thankfully, she found him leaning against a tree, his back to her. Brinne felt relief wash over her, mixed with an intense spike of fear. She glanced down at her hands, the black blood glinting in the moonlight. Desperately, she wiped it on the grass and her cloak, anything to get rid of the stain. Questions flew through her mind like frightened birds. How had this happened? Why did this happen? Was Suriel alright? Had he seen something horrid? Something he shouldn't have.

Shakily, Brinne got up. She intended to just step over the corpse and forget about it, but she had to check. Hesitating for but a moment, she crouched and carefully pulled a little on the hood of the dead figure. She felt her stomach retch at the blood and offal, but she had to know. Peeling away thick black fabric, she spotted a familiar symbol carved into the temple of the dead man below her. Brinne quickly replaced the fabric and recoiled away, standing up. Her face had paled.

She glanced back at Suriel, still facing away from her. Consumed by his own pains, he hadn't seen her investigation. Although she was thankful for this, it made her worry. Was he hurt? She left the corpse where it lay and approaching him slowly, like a spooked animal. His helmet amplified the sounds of his laboured breaths. While it might just be the low light, she could swear he was shaking.

Please forgive me, she wanted to say to him, this is all my fault. Like so many others, she kept the words in her ribs.

"Suri-- sorry... Are you... are you hurt?" she said instead. It was all she could muster.

She covered her neck with a hand. The wound was shallow, but stung against the sweat on her palm, now red and sticky. The thought of leaving it to naturally heal had crossed her mind, but she thought better. The quicker she could get rid of it, the quicker she could forget all about this night.

 

[Solirus]

Juju
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Slowly, Suriel regained composure, his shaking subsiding. When that sound and smell had gone, he could feel so much more relaxed. A part of him seemed to despise how much he relied upon it, how easily he could simply allow this part of him to take the helm even slightly.

"Unlike you, I am unhurt." Suriel simply stated, turning back to face Brinne, examining her closely, his eyes were glowing brighter than she'd ever seen previously. "Get some rest, my watch isn't over." Suriel walked past Brinne regardless of how she responded, taking a seat back on top of the boulder, returning to his unflinching duties.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

She wasn't quite sure if it was the thickness of the night, or a trick of the moonlight, but when Suriel turned back around, she swore his eyes glowed much more fiercely than before.

Brinne laughed sheepishly, "It's um, it's nothing really. Don't worry about th-"

She practically froze up when the golden eyes began to examine her, searching. Fear tugged at her heart again, quickening under the piercing gaze. It was only a moment, and yet it felt like eternity. Relief washed over her when he merely urged her to get some rest, walking past her as he returned to his post. Did he seriously have nothing to say about the attack? About anything that just happened?

It was hard to believe that anyone could think this was normal, but she heard it was something common among soldiers and mercenaries. Suriel had branded himself a monster, so he could have easily been either at some point. But judging by the quality of his armour, he was more likely to be the former than the latter. If so, who did he fight for and why? Her father had told her tales of deserters, disgraced warriors who fled their duties and hid far away from their lords. Even the people of Northshire had rumoured Suriel to be one.

Brinne looked back at the corpses littered the ground, blood soaking into the lush grass she had just slept on. Copper clung to the air like a thick cloud of smoke, stinging the back of her throat. Her eyes flicked back to Suriel, "I have to... I'm going to move the bodies. I can't sleep with them... staring at me. It's just too much..."

Shakily, she approached the hooded figure she had previously examined and gingerly grabbed a hold of their arms. A shudder ran up her as she made contact with them, her eyes welling up with tears as she tried not to look too closely at the tangled mess of their body. With all her strength, she tugged the body into the shrubbery at the edge of the camp and settled them in among the ferns. Once done, she repeated it with the other figure. Crouched over them, she closed the lids of their eyes. In the darkness, it almost gave the illusion of sleep, if not for their horribly mangled state. Thinking on this, Brinne held out her staff and willed the ferns to gather over them like a shrouded tomb.

Only once the dead were tended to did Brinne seem to consider her wound. Retrieving her bag, she produced some of the herbs she had stored and began the incantation. She could feel her mana deplete, but the pain in her neck had vanished, and only the faintest red mark remained on her skin. Not that she could tell in the darkness. Although the spells had taxed her stamina, Brinne didn't feel the slightest bit sleepy.

She wandered over to the boulder where Suriel was and sat down beside it, her back resting on the stone. Placing her staff on the grass beside her, Brinne sat with her arms hugged around her knees and her chin resting on both. "I'm sorry you had to do that. I guess, I should also say thank you. I don't like to think about what would have happened if you hadn't helped me. Same with back in Northshire."

"Even after all that training, I still have to rely on..." Brinne blinked back angry, helpless tears, "Well, you. I'll do better. I'll... I'll be stronger. Master Nereis' lessons won't be a waste."

 

[Solirus]

Juju ​

"Just go rest already" Suriel remained still, seemingly unmoved by the elements and Brinne's words. "If you want to get stronger, find something to practice on." Suriel responded checking his arm fully covered in blood. With a single swiping motion, the blood was removed from his arm, and with a powerful gust from his wings, the rest of the blood and even loose flesh was tossed away.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

Brinne was not entirely sure what she had expected of Suriel. Reassurances? Comforting words, perhaps. Maybe even a little company. Anything to quell the dull ache in her chest and the fear that gnawed at the edges of her mind.

Suriel provided no such thing.

Brinne shrunk into herself, somehow curling up into an even smaller form than the one she already assumed. It was as if she had recoiled away from a cup of tea that was much hotter than expected and had burned her tongue.

“R-right.” She stuttered, scrambling back up. She made a show of dusting off her cloak and then forced a laugh, “Probably sounds silly, doesn't it? To someone as strong as you, I mean. Sorry to bother you, I'll let you get on with your watch.”

Brinne bid him goodnight and then returned to the bloodstained clearing. Her heart caught in her throat as she walked away, tightening it until she felt as if she could hardly breathe. She settled down among the thick grass, the dew carrying the scent of copper. She kept her back to Suriel this time, laying on her side with her cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She didn't want him to see her silently crying until sleep finally took over.

 

[Solirus]

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Juju
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Suriel didn't bother to turn and check on Brinne, she'd suffered, but she'd recover. He should feel bad, perhaps even awful, but he couldn't. It would take hours for him to feel again, like a person should.

For now, he would remain diligent, uncaring, and unfeeling, he didn't have the capacity to hate himself now. The wings retreated to his back, furling again, a small wish slipping through the cracks of his shell, wishing that he could rid himself of this fate.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The morning was bright and sunny, with hardly a cloud to be seen in the sky. Just as Roderick had predicted, it was fine weather for any gardener. When he awoke, he seemed a little concerned with the blood, but merely shrugged it off when Brinne mentioned they had been attacked by bandits. Brinne was completely aware that they were far from mere bandits, yet it was the story she was going with. She also kept any mention of it as short as possible, directing the morning conversations away from the previous night as if it was nothing more than a bad dream.

Despite the events of the previous night, Brinne had perked up back to her usual self. She smiled and laughed along to Roderick's stories of his youth, almost as if overcompensating for the unrest she experienced the previous night or to mask any linger fear she might feel. She didn't even seem slightly tired, despite the late night and its stress. Once again, she and Roderick filled the morning air with stories, talk of plants, and the anticipation of the festival to come.

By early afternoon, the city rose up on the horizon, its walls decorated with bright blue banners that danced merrily in the fresh breeze. The eastern gate was crowded in throngs of travellers and wagons waiting in line to enter the city. The buzz of conversation rose up like the hum of a beehive. Brightly coloured flags and banners were strung up across the gate, clusters of flowers tucked into twisting garlands upon lantern posts and the gate itself.

The signs of festivities were everywhere, even on the outer gate.

Brinne pointed towards the decor, grinning brightly as she glanced back at Suriel and Roderick, "Wow, do you see all this!?"

"Har! This isn't even the half of it. Wait until you see the inside." Roderick chuckled, guiding the cart towards the guards inspecting wagons entering the city.

 

[Solirus]

Juju ​

Suriel had remained awfully quiet, unable to even a modicum of sleep, yet he hardly felt tired. He could feel his regret mounting up again, the awful sounds of death, and that crackling. But now was not the time for such thoughts.

At the gate, Brinne exclaimed excitedly at the decor meant to represent the upcoming festival. However, Suriel was more attentive on the gate itself, with a group of five guards defending it, with more on the higher levels of the walls. With this new surge in people, tighter security was to be expected.

As the guards finished their inspection of the cart in front of them, and wishing them a happy festival, Roderick's cart moved forward, Suriel standing on the side.

"Halt" the first guard spoke, unlike other guards this one's helmet had a singular feather atop it. They did not appear to be the captain of the guard, but they certainly seemed of higher ranking. "I'll need to see your license" the guard referred to Roderick who'd already pulled out his license even before the guard had asked for it.

The rest of the guards moved, inspecting every inch of the cart. The head guard, returning the license to Roderick, turned her gaze towards Suriel. "What about you?"

"Bodyguard" Suriel responded, staring the guard in the eyes.

"Is this true?" the guard questioned, turning her attention towards Roderick.

"Tis true, he's done a great job guarding this body." Roderick flexed his body, his fresh shirt ripping from his bulging and impeccable muscles.

"Right, I'll still need you to take off your helmet." The guard stated redirecting her gaze towards Suriel

"Why." Suriel responded, his posture unchanging but clearly tense.

"We have some wanted men on the run, we can't have people concealing their faces. I ask again, remove your helmet."

"Not possible" Suriel responded again, the guard hesitated, almost shocked at the audacity Suriel showed.

"Sir, I shall not ask again, remove your helmet" The guard placed her hand on the blade, ready to pull it out should Suriel not comply. However, instead of doing as he was told, Suriel slowly walked up to the guard, until he was within breathing distance, clearly displaying the height difference between the two.

"Did any of the fugitives tower over you?" Suriel questioned.

The guard hesitated once more, before moving her hand away from the sword. "No."

"Then I need not remove this helmet. Blessed day to you" Suriel spoke, stepping back and returning to the cart's side. Just so, the rest of the guards returned to the head guard, who begrudgingly allowed the cart to continue forward into the city.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

Brinne didn't realize she had been holding her breath until after the guard retreated from Suriel and let them pass. She let out a long sigh, the stress from the encounter fizzling away in the bright sunlight. That could have been a lot worse.

"Wow... I can't believe that actually worked." Brinne muttered, glancing back at the guards after they had passed by.

She sneaked a peek over at Suriel, still fully helmed as he marched dutifully beside the cart. Once again, she couldn't help but wonder why he was so adamant on hiding his face. If he was really a fugitive, like the guard claimed, he wouldn't keep it on in the middle of the wilderness. Hell, he even slept with the damn thing on. She wondered how on earth he could even sleep at all. Just thinking about it made her feel claustrophobic and short on air. Whatever his reason, he had some serious dedication.

Serious dedication that ended with a delicious berry tart. It was something completely understandable, considering she was a sweet-tooth herself. Actually, all food in general. It was a little funny to think back on, considering how touchy he was about his face, but in a way it was also... endearing. She wasn't so prideful to think that she had earned his trust, but she was glad that at some moments he had felt able to take it off. She wondered if she could help those moments to become a bit more frequent. Life was far too short not to feel the kiss of wind and sunlight on one's face.

"Hey Thanalan..." she began, only to fall short when the wagon came to a halt. Brinne peered over to Roderick instead, confused, "Uh, Roderick? Is something the matter?"

The whole wooden frame of the cart shook as Roderick stepped off of it, walking around the side of his wagon, "M'fraid this is where we part ways, little miss. Got a few stops to make before noon. Ah, but before I go..."

He fished out a heavy burlap satchel. This he tossed over to Brinne, who caught it last second with a yelp of surprise. The bag made a metallic jingle as it was caught, a tell-tale sign of what was inside. "A little something for the festival, and as thanks for guarding this immaculate body."

The man flexed his toned biceps and then approached Suriel, going in for a dap of thanks and comradery.

 

[Solirus]

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Juju ​

As expected, the merchant Roderick was set to depart, but before doing so, he offered Suriel a hand in a most aggressive manner. Rather than leaving the hand outstretched, Roderick had swung his arm back almost as a test to compare strength. Suriel reciprocated, but held back, making sure he didn't hurt Roderick.

As both hands collided, they produced a gust of wind powerful enough to stumble nearby people. With a pleased face, Roderick tightened the grip, "May your day be festivious and your journey Oysterous" With the questionably coherent phrase, Roderick let go, flexing one final time before triple front flipping into the cart and setting off onto business.

He was certainly an odd fellow, Suriel thought, far preferring it to vipers posing as men.

However, with that being said, Suriel remembered the purpose of their visit, to wait out the investigation of the guild, and to simply enjoy the festival. Perhaps now more than ever would be a good time to enjoy something, perhaps with festival games he could earn something.

"Brinne, feel free to go off and enjoy the festivities on your own, I'm sure you'll find something to enjoy. It shall be safe for us as long as we remain in large crowds. Once you've had your fill, let us meet back at the central plaza." Suriel suggested, ready to depart, but waiting for Brinne to respond.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

The blast cause Brinne to stumble back as well, covering her eyes with an arm to shield against the gusting dirt and debris. Just how strong was that guy? When the dust settled, she watched Roderick depart and bid them an outrageous farewell. Brinne couldn't help but giggle and hopped up and down, dramatically waving him goodbye as he rode off.

"Goodbye Roderick! And goodbye Tulip!" she shouted after them, settling back down with a look of bitter-sweetness. "I'm going to miss him..."

Before melancholy could spread, the sound of life and revelry pulled her back in. Spices lingered in the air, children laughed, and somewhere nearby she could hear a bard playing a merry tune. All around her, the fruits of life were out in their full, unbridled glory. The joy practically simmered in the air, infecting her with mirth. She couldn't help but be swept up in the haze of it, her face plastered in a carefree smile.

Completely distracted by it all, she seemed a little surprised when Suriel gave her the go-ahead to wander off on her own. Come to think of it, they had been in one another's company for days now. A bit of time apart would probably do some good. Especially after the previous night. Originally, she wanted to ask him if they should check out the festivities together, but now she figured it might be a chance for him not to be babysitting her. No more burdens, no more attacks. Just some much-needed relaxation.

All she had to do was make sure she didn't get herself into trouble. Couldn't be too hard, right?

There was one thing bothering her though.

"Wait, Thalaran, what about the coin purse? Who will hold onto it? Wait, I'll just split it between us. I have a bag, so you can keep the satchel. Here, let me." With practised ease, Brinne split the earnings into a 1/3 to 2/3 split, pawing her portion into her back while handing over the lion's share to Suriel in the coin purse.

She tried to be discreet about it, not wanting him to object to her underhanded kindness. Well, maybe kindness wasn't the right word. He was the one who earned it, but more than that, she really hoped he would enjoy himself and buy something nice. Besides, she learned how to haggle at a young age. She had full faith that she could get the same amount of value as Suriel's share if she put her mind to it.

"Okay, I'll meet you at the central plaza, got it!" She nodded her head, determination and excitement bubbling up behind her blue eyes. "Um, and Thalaran? I hope you have lots of fun... and eat lots of food. Gods, cooked food! My mouth is watering already just thinking about it... ahhh, I think I know where I'm going first! See you later! And have FUN!!"

Flashing him a bright, happy smile, Brinne waved him off and set off at a run into the crowd. Within seconds, she was swallowed up by the crowd.

 

[Solirus]

Juju ​

Suriel watched Brinne stride off into the crowd, practically losing her from sight. She had far too much energy, but perhaps it would serve her well in the festivities. He however also planned to, spend or waste some time around here. He'd never truly been to a festival before, only seen them or heard from them, but being in one now of all times felt rather curious. It all felt like a chaotic play, as people moved, played, and haggled, it all had a flow.

Following this flow, Suriel merely looked around, seeing the man merchants who'd placed themselves in the vicinity, their colorful cloths painting the streets with their items spread out. It was bold of them to leave in the open, where a thief could easily snatch it all, hindered only by the crowd. But perhaps it was the crowd the protected the merchants from thieves, and the both of them from would be cultists, or so he hoped.

Yet, as he walked, one individual caught his attention above all else. The man was as dirty as they came and as poor as they seemed, with broken rags for clothing, skin of dirt, and a missing arm to add to the misery. Yet to his surprise, the poor man acted rather joyfully, playing with a copper coin in his hand, twirling it with the finesse of a professional. Perhaps that is why he was missing an arm, Suriel thought.

Spoiler

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"Good sir, did I catch your interest?" The man asked, noticing, Suriel staring at him.

"You act weirdly" Suriel responded bluntly

"And how come I act so weirdly?" the man asked, his question almost as a prompt for Suriel to answer.

Suriel hesitated, not wishing to respond to the man so bluntly again.

"Oh please sir, I do wonder, I won't hold it against you." the man continued in an assuring tone.

"You seem miserable, and yet you act with joy." Suriel stated.

"My what an observation, but quite wrong, you see I am far from miserable. I am a merchant, and today I made some money" the man explained tossing the copper piece high up into the air, letting it fall in front of Suriel.

"You are a merchant?" Suriel wondered, checking the surroundings of the man, spotting nothing but the clothing in which the man was sitting on.

"Indeed, but unlike other merchants I sell something unique, I sell stories?"

"Like a bard, then?"

"Well, I suppose bards would be story sellers too, wouldn't they? But my stories are special in a way."

"In what way?" Suriel questioned, his interest clearly piqued.

"I can only reveal that, after you pay one copper"

Suriel stared at the man, but relaxed afterward, this man was clearly not a danger, and perhaps for a single copper, this could be humorous. Pulling out the pouch Brinne gave him, Suriel rummaged through, pulling out a single copper and tossing it to the man, Suriel watched the man swiftly catch it, betraying any sense of age or physical limitations.

"Take a seat sir." the man offered Suriel, unwrapping more of the cloth so Suriel could sit on it, "Or don't, choices are what makes us human are they not?"

Suriel stared at the man, regardless of what he chose, it was his decision regardless, and thus he chose to sit.

"Very good sir, but before we start, how do you wish to begin this story? As an epic, a tragedy, or perhaps a comedy?"

"An epic."

"Then an epic it shall begin. But an epic needs a hero, and what better hero to start off with than a young and humble hero, born in the fields and meadows, a lowly farmer in a lowly family. But he was happy, was he not?" the man paused, almost as if waiting for Suriel to continue.

"... Was he?" Suriel asked, rather confused.

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Are you not supposed to be the storyteller?"

"My stories are special, for I alone sell them, but we both tell them. Thus, I ask again, was the boy happy?"

"Yes... he was happy." Suriel said, almost awkwardly, almost wondering if what he'd said was correct.

"Of course he was happy! For although they were poor, they were in peace, and work at the farm was hard work, but fulfilling work. It was a simple yet humble life, but peace can never be a guarantee. Thus, what conflict shattered this era of peace?"

Suriel wondered, still unsure about his participation, but for a single copper piece, this could be certainly worse, "Perhaps some unnatural force enveloped the land, cursing it."

"Perhaps?" The man asked rather mockingly.

"The land was cursed by an unnatural curse." Suriel corrected himself, rather annoyed.

"It swept across the lands, trees withered, the crops rotted, and the very skies melted at the curse. Peace had been swallowed by this wretched curse, and soon it would tear down all the hero held dear, but what could he do, he was but a simple boy, what could he do against the curse besides lie down and die?"

"If he's the hero, then surely he had some way to stop this."

"'Tis true, for he is the hero, but what did the hero possess that could grant him even the slimmest of chances of salvation?"

"A gift."

"A gift from whom?" the man asked, intrigued, watching Suriel become more invested.

"A gift from his mother, an amulet that if brought to the heart of this curse, it would cleanse the lands of this curse."

"And thus it was, the hero's mother entrusted the amulet to his son and bid him to save the lands. But did the son travel to embark on this journey?"

"Naturally."

"Without hesitation, the boy journeyed out onto the darkness ahead, amulet held closely and tightly. The once lush forests and proud mountains he traveled through now laid to waste, barren and devoid of life besides the horrors that were born from the curse. What did he find in his travels?"

"Misery, so many left suffering, but he helped them, he saved them."

"For what is a true hero if not selfless and righteous, yes, for each step he took, the humble hero only found misery, people like himself, suffering at the hands of the lands or the horrors, but even with the stake of his world at hand, he still took the time to save them all whether, but was he left unscathed from all of this?"

"No, he must've been wounded in the struggles and just like the lands, he too might've been corrupted, but he still pressed on."

"For every soul he saved, he could only feel the curse attempting to seize his very being, but the boy did not cease, nay, he pressed on, and through it all, he finally made it to the heart of the curse, the amulet now brimmed with power, ready to smite down this curse, but the boy felt something was wrong, something terribly wrong."

"If the amulet is meant to destroy the heart, wouldn't it also kill him now that he was corrupted by the curse?"

"Should he use the amulet, the lands would be cleansed, innumerable lives would be saved, but the boy would surely die from the process, his very being gone along with the heart. He would never see those he saved, he would be unmade. Did he do it?"

"It would be difficult, but he'd go through with it."

"Are you sure... it's your choice, surely there'd be another way?"

Suriel hesitated, the man's words almost seemed uncharacteristic, no longer seeming as if they were directed to the story. "Perhaps, that is what he believes, yet regardless, he goes through with it."

"And?"

"His assumptions are incorrect, instead of being unmade, he is merely cleansed. Something changed, but regardless, he remains now a humble hero, and lives out his days happily."

The man smiled, "bravo, I'm always a sucker for happy endings, and you seem to be too. Anyway, good sir, it has been a pleasure crafting this story with you."

"I suppose it was rather nice" Suriel commented.

"Well said, but before you go, a word of advice. You should always seek the freedom to reach your happy ending." the man spoke in a rather serious but uplifting tone. The man leaned back now, tossing both copper coins with his hand.

Suriel remained seated for a while, taking in the words of the man. He wasn't sure what to make of that entire experience, but it seemed now he had an idea of how to let himself be carried by a certain flow. "Blessed day to you" Suriel said, rising from the ground.

"Blessed day to you too, enjoy the festival good sir" the man responded, giving a small bow while seated.

Turning away from the man, Suriel looked around, wondering what he should try next.

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

It didn't take Brinne long to find the food stalls. Scent alone would have guided her, if not for the trailing tendrils of steam and the throngs of festival goers carrying their delicious plunder. Brinne's eyes shone brightly in anticipation, her steps practically skipping as she fluttered between them, eyeing their prizes as she tried to decide on what to try.

Candied hawthorns? Steamed buns? Honey-roasted boar? The choices were too numerous, their flavours too tempting. It had been weeks since she had a cooked meal, and who knew how long it would be until another opportunity presented itself. So long as Suriel kept up his boycott of fires, it would be cold meals and preserves for the foreseeable future.

Perhaps she would just have to try a bit of everything…

Brinne went from stall to stall, trading coin for food until her arms were filled with a small feast. She ate as she wandered, freeing up her hands for new samples as she waited in line. It garnered a few odd looks from those around her, which she didn't notice in her hedonistic joyride.

One of the stalls had a small wooden table propped up beside it, which Brinne used to hold her haul as she waited for her order of spiced noodles. The girl devoured her snacks in the amount of time it took for the noodle merchant to come back with her bowl, and an even shorter time for her to bring back the empty bowl and ask for another.

The chef, a tall muscled woman with weathered, mahogany skin, seemed impressed. She gave Brinne a once-over and then grunted approval, “Now there's a proper appetite!”

Brinne looked up at her in mild embarrassment, “Oh really? I only had a little bit today. My master said I should try to have some restraint with food, so I’ve been holding back a bit…”

“Worried about your figure, eh? If you ask me, that master of yours has got it all wrong. Someone as scrawny as you needs more meat on your bones. Go on then, eat up! Also, a little something, on the house…” The chef placed down Brinne's second helping along with a small plate of three steamed dumplings, each coated in a fine layer of seeds, “What's a festival without a feast, eh?”

Brinne gasped in joy and picked up one of the dumplings, biting into the fluffy dough that surrounded its sweet paste filling. The girl's eyes lit up, her mouth turning upright into a wide grin as he chewed. The dumpling disappeared in two more bites. Once finished, Brinne seemed to remember her manners, “Oh thank you so much! A-are you sure you don't want anything? At least a few coppers?”

The chef smirked as she shook her head, pointing a thumb towards the other patrons now sat at the table. Brinne hadn’t even noticed them until now. The noodle-master snorted, “Don't mention it. Seems like you wolfing down your food like a rock-lion has attracted some attention. Thankfully, you haven't eaten my whole stock yet. Hah!”

The woman chuckled as she returned to her stall and its bubbling pots, leaving Brinne with a rather sheepish look. Maybe she should stop for now. Well, after this next bowl and dumplings, of course.

Brinne cleaned off her plate in record time and stepped aside from the table, giving a stretch and a contented sigh. She felt like she could definitely eat more, but she was satisfied for the time being. Quickly checking her bag, she was also happy to know that she still had a good chunk of change left.

Before Brinne could even consider her next step, she felt a small tug on her cloak. She looked down to find a boy staring up at her with wide, curious eyes. “Excuse me, miss, are your horns real?”

The question made Brinne laugh, “Why yes, they are!”

“Can I touch them?”

Children, full of innocent and shameless curiosity. Brinne chuckled and knelt down to the boy's level, “Of course! But don't pull on them, please.”

In wonderment, the boy poked at Brinne's horns, inspecting the little pendants she had hung from them. As he admired the unusual feature, another boy walked up to her. He pointed his finger at Brinne's staff and exclaimed, “Hey lady, are you a wizard?”

“Gods, I wish… uh-” Brinne clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. If her master heard her say that, she would end her apprenticeship then and there. For reasons still unknown to her, Nereis strongly disliked wizards and their arcane arts. Their status of reverence in society was something she had little patience for. “What I mean to say is no, I'm not a wizard.”

“Aww…” The new boy pouted, “I wanted to see a magic trick.”

“Oh? A trick, you say?” A catlike grin spread across Brinne's face, “Well then… prepare to be amazed.”

In a flutter of fabric and fluff, Brinne transformed into a sheep. With a proud bleat, she trotted in place and then struck a dramatic pose for the two children, who squealed with glee and began to pet the fluffy creature.

The children had but a few moments of play before a woman's voice shot through the humming crowd like an arrow, “Robb!? Tanya!? Just what are you doing!?”

The mother of the two children rushed over to them, taking them each by the ear and drawing them away from Brinne. Not wanting to get them in trouble, and feeling a little scared of the mother herself, Brinne quickly resumed her human form… much to the astonishment of the woman. She let go of the kids’ ears and instead placed a hand on their shoulders, just in case. Her shock faded somewhat when she realized Brinne was nothing more than a short girl.

“By the seven! I… I beg your pardon, miss! I'd thought these two hellions had somehow stolen from a shepherd's flock. Don’t see much magic where we're from. I hope they didn't cause you too much trouble.”

“Oh, not at all! They were well-behaved, actually.” Brinne waved her hand dismissively, her chuckle warm, “I have two younger siblings who are about their age. A brother and a sister, just like them. They're also like to cause a bit of trouble!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Brinne realized how inaccurate they were. Come to think of it, her little brother might actually be taller than her now, if he was anything like the eldest. The two children she remembered would be far from little at this point. It was a sobering realization that left her a little quiet as the woman ushered her children together.

“Well, thank the heavens they're capable of some manners. Perhaps they ought to remember that for home as well. Now, come along you two, or you'll miss the show we came all this way for.” she said, guiding each of her children with a hand. Before leaving, she gave Brinne a slight nod, “Blessed day to you.”

Brinne smiled as she waved them off, feeling a twinge of homesickness after the interaction. She shook her head a little, as if the physical motion of it would somehow dismiss the nagging feeling. She sighed. Now wasn't the time for thinking about that. She was only here for a day, so she had to make the most of the festival while she could.

The mother's mention of a show had piqued her curiosity, so Brinne decided to wander in the direction she had seen them go. Perhaps she could also catch a glimpse of the show. Whatever it was.

 

[Solirus]

Juju ​

The closer Brinne approached the central plaza, new sounds infiltrated her ears: Cheers and celebrations upon festivities, followed by the loud banging of the drums, the soothing touches of a lute, and the whimsical dance of flutes. The visuals too grew far more distinct even to the rest of the city, with red pieces of paper in the shapes of petals scattered about. The smells too were far more bold and potent, spices she would've never even dreamed about permeated the air around.

The place too was packed tightly like the bag of a farmer right after harvest season, there was hardly any space to move, let alone breath, with several people converging into the growing music. The song sped up in tempo as many of the watchers started clapping along to the beat. The claps grew louder and faster as drums beat like thunder, the flute turning from a whimsical air, to a striking and deadly whirlwind, and the lute, barely hanging on, almost on purpose for the story of the song.

Like a crashing wave against the shore, the players finally slowed and eased the song, a far more melodic and peaceful tone, with a layer of hope at the end turning into silence.

The crowd erupted into cheers at what Brinne could assume were three distinct and talented bards. The individuals gave their bows before taking their leave, breaking apart the great blob that hindered Brinne's own movements.

With the people moving away, far more space for breathing as granted in the central plaza, and the true size of the place could be truly appreciated. Yet, from all that had been revealed, Brinne quickly noticed something in the center of the plaza itself, something important. With wings outstretched, blade in hand, raised in victory, Brinne would recognize a statue with the exact likeness and face of Suriel.

Spoiler

 

[Juju]

Solirus​

Brinne hadn't found the mother or the two boys, but she found the show they had been looking for. The sound of music washed over her in a tide, sweeping her up into a lively whirlwind of mirth. All around her were the sound of clapping, carefree laughter, and the motion of dozens of people all united in celebration.

She joined in the action, clapping her hands and bobbing in sync with those around her, and yet something felt off. The more she took in the atmosphere, the more she became aware of a growing sense of isolation. The crowd suddenly felt too vast, a sea of strangers. This was a community, and she was the outsider. Try as she might to act the part, she would never belong to it.

A few dancers, their arms covered in petal and vine, pranced through the crowd and passed around floral crowns to the crowd. Like the summer wind, they whirled past. One placed a circlet upon her own head, catching it on one of her horns, and then fluttered off. Surprised, Brinne reached for the floral circlet. It was blue and white, woven from familiar wildflowers. Placing it properly on her head, she gave a small smile and decided to enjoy the music a bit longer.

Once the crowd began to move, Brinne drifted along with it. That's when she noticed the statue, placed squarely in the centre of the grand plaza. It depicted an all-too familiar figure. Eyes wide and face blank with utter shock, she stared up at the stone man looming above her, "Suriel?"

She rushed over to it. Below the statue was a plaque, reading "In Commemoration of Suriel, The Liberator of Crestbourne, The Wings of Ash. May his divine light guide us to a blessed tomorrow."

Brinne stepped closer, hardly believing the words she read. She had heard of Crestbourne in her father's stories, tales of wicked kings and hoards of demons so dense they turned the day to night from the shadow of their wings. It had seemed like a fairytale to her, far off and fantastical with its details. She hadn't even considered that it could be a real place, let alone any truth to the tale.

If Suriel had been the liberator of that kingdom, then that would mean...

"You're a hero?" Brinne whispered, searching the cold, stone eyes of the statue above her, as if he could answer. His face was the same, yet she saw one stark difference. The scar he bore, the one she presumed to be the reason for his face-hiding, was missing. It could be just an idealized touch, but it was hard to say. He certainly looked regal, composed in an inspiring light, "But if you're a hero then why..."

She thought back to the state she found Suriel in, the decrepit shack in its forgotten solitude. Here he was depicted in glory, a far cry from the folk-legend that haunted the woods of Northshire. The comparison made her chest feel heavy. How could someone worthy of commemoration ever become so forgotten and forsaken? Why did he claim to be a monster?

"When the adventure ends, where does the hero go...?" Brinne muttered in melancholy, echoing the words her master once said.

So engrossed in her thoughts was she that she hardly noticed the elderly man approaching her. "Here to pay your respects? Hmm. Few young'ns are interested in the history of the festival these days. The reason why the cinderbloom grow."

He was a short man, shorter than Brinne herself. It made her wonder if he was part dwarf or one of the other shorter races she had heard about. He looked up at her in a deep look of approval. It made her somewhat uncomfortable, considering how little she knew about Suriel. Even if she had literally been travelling with him for a few days. She pressed a palm to the back of her neck, shifting a little, "Uh, well, my master said that history is like the soil of a garden... or something like that."

The old man dipped his head and grunted in agreement, "Indeed. Determines the quality of what grows, and what weeds sprout. Once upon a time this festival was all about that. Now it's about the food and them damn fireworks."

Brinne laughed awkwardly, not having the heart to admit those two things were the whole reason she came here, "R-right. Erm, so you mentioned something about cinderbloom. I've never heard of those flowers before. Are they unique to this area?"

"Aye, they bloom every three years around this time of year, starting back on the Fields of Ashes left in the great demonic war. Back then, Lordshaven was under the control of the demons and their cultists, led by the Traitor King." He tapped his cane against the stone steps of the monument, "Least until the mighty Suriel and his army defeated them, liberating Crestbourne and restoring peace. Without his heroism, this place would not be the same as it is today."

The Traitor king was a familiar name to Brinne, along with the demon war. Between Nereis and her father's wild stories, she was familiar with snippets of the conflict, yet never the full picture. Her master had warned her about time's warping of history, but there were so many questions burning in her mind. As convoluted as it got, there had to be at least some truth in legend. Right?

She leaned on her staff, "After it all ended, when everyone was free and the great demons were slain. What happened to Than.. erm, the hero Suriel?"

He scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm, can't say. I've heard mention that he died in the final battle, but my grandmother told me that he returned to the heavens, being an angel and all."

A cough and a sputter was all Brinne could manage. She tore her eyes away from the statue, instead staring at the elderly man in disbelief, searching for some sort of joke, "An... angel? An angel?"

There was absolutely no way that could be true.

Looking a little taken aback, the old man stubbornly insisted, "Yes, young lady. A warrior of divine radiance. How else could he have the power to have slain the demon spawn and the traitors? They say he wielded the divine flames, smiting down entire legions."

She thought back to the way Suriel's eyes glowed in the dim light. They certainly looked divine, but she couldn't say for certain. As for the other powers, well, it was hard to believe that someone so shy of flames could have ever used them to light a fire, let alone a field of demons. Then again, he gave no reason for why he refused any source of flame... but that could be so many reasons. Here she was thinking to get more information when all she was left with more questions. Perhaps she should listen to Nereis' wisdom after all.

These claims were outlandish, and yet she felt uneasy. With how little she knew about Suriel, she could not deny nor believe this man's claims. Brinne placed a hand upon her chest, fingers pressed against the shape hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt.

She bowed her head graciously to the man, "Thank you for your stories, elder. I will take them with me."

"Good, good. You run along now and enjoy the festival. You've listened enough to this old geezer." He smiled in good humour, mock-shooing Brinne away before he shuffled over to a nearby bench and sat down, watching the passing crowd.

Brinne turned back to look at the statue one last time. It felt strange to see it, almost as if it was a secret she shouldn't be looking at despite, well, being a national monument. Would it be right to ask Suriel about it later? He certainly hadn't mentioned being a war hero, but there was hardly anything he had said about himself other than his shameful admittance to being a horrible person. But would they really make a statue of a horrible person?

A few flower crowns had been placed under the shrine, perhaps in tribute, as the man had mentioned. Brinne glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, making sure he didn't catch her leaning down to sneakily pluck one from the stone and carry it away with her.

 

[Solirus]

Juju ​

The sword had always been Suriel's weapon, they were versatile, coming in different shapes and size, capable of slashing, puncturing, and bludgeoning too if one was keen to strike with the pommel. Even then, however, the sword was still outshone by other weapons such as the spear, a simple stick with a pointy end that even a farmer could kill with. The true power of the sword, was in who held it. Time and dedication were required to wield a sword effectively, and to make a sword required care and money, thus only the wealthy could wield them and as such, the sword was a symbol of authority. But for as much as nobility and royalty wish to display their blades, normal blades suffered against armored opponents, whether from finely crafted armor or the scales of a beast or demon. But a hammer? A hammer could crush those, dent them and tear apart the opponent, splatter the remains of the opponent. It is such a messy weapon, and yet it is also a tool. With a hammer, one could crack a skull, but they could also build a home. If the sword was the weapon of nobles and the spear the weapon of peasants, was the hammer not the weapon of craftsmen?

Suriel pondered as he weighed the hammer, feeling it out before thinking about striking. If he had a choice, perhaps he would've liked to wield a hammer, to not only strike, but to build. But today, at this very moment, he held the hammer to strike. Suriel raised the hammer, winding it up behind is back, and crashed it down upon his target.

In a short delay, Suriel heard a clang of a bell and attained the awe of a man, "Blessed be, Good sir you certainly weren't lying about your strength, you almost knocked the bell out with that one." The man commented as Suriel carefully placed the wooden hammer down next to the wooden high striker.

"I did warn you" Suriel chuckled a little. He found he was enjoying this festival far more than anticipated, with all the games and merchants around displaying the trinkets and baubles from far away lands.

"That you did, but I am a man of my word, here you go." the man gave Suriel a necklace with the symbol of a red and unusual flower, perhaps this was it represented the flower upon which the festival was born from.

"Blessed day to you" Suriel left as the man waved goodbye, quickly returning to his attraction to check for any damages.

"Oi" a new voice called out to Suriel who turned to face it "You almost broke that damned, thing, gotta say, 'mimpressed, man like you must be proud of that strength. How bout you entertain us with a little game of arm wrestling." It was a large, burly man sitting on one of the outside tables next to the caravan as a travelling cook. The man sat next to other several men, each rather dirty, much like himself. Suriel could also feel two other men approach from behind, with one even placing their hand on his back. "Don't be shy, although, for the arm wrestling game I like to place some bets, makes the game more interesting." the man continued. Although usually Suriel would deny such requests, he felt rather adventurous today, perhaps he could win something from these men.