How to Prepare for Revenge
Spring 366
It's been eight days since I last saw the slightest hint of land. I'd heard people call my homeland a 'sea of sand' before but I never understood it fully until now. Everywhere you look, there is nothing but water. Even on deck, the crew use water to keep it clean. The song of water slapping against the side no longer bothers me as it did my first night out at sea. As I'm not a member of the crew and have no experience in sailing, I am left to my own devices generally. So, I've dedicated my time to learning more from the tomes I've brought along.
Each tome is a record left behind by a different member of my family. The easily eldest dates to one of the founders of my household, Amri. He was the head of the house's brother and spent much time protecting traders from the desert. He details little but has spoken of harnessing the winds. It was his spell that enabled me to create the sandstorm. He can even create small, sudden bursts of air to push an opponent away.
The second ancestor of mine that was blessed with power was Shera. She was Amri's daughter and as such, spent much of her time tending to family affairs. Her skills were far more practical in usage. She could start small fires or set wards against intrusion. After some practice, I began to set the wards on the floor outside my room. Every time they would walk over the mark, I'd hear a small bell. Unfortunately I forgot to undo the spell before I fell asleep. I will never make that mistake again.
It is worth noting that there is a long time gap between my ancestors with power; roughly eighty years until the tome writer begins. Even then, Rian is very secretive about his power. He was born to a common woman and his ruling father. Never practicing in the open, he only details small spells like moving an object using a 'hand of air'. Interested to test this, I stole a carrot from the galley. Making it hover and dance, I found myself realizing the convenience of never having to leave one spot. Rian never rose to high esteem or noblility and instead lived as a farmer.
Finally, there is a tome written by my great, great, great grandfather. He only learned of his power by accident when some stone nearly fell on his head. He created a shield to deflect it. His journal mostly covered the politics of his time. The rite to invoke his protective shield was poorly described, lacking anything to guide me. The trigger was a shape of his hands to be held in front of him. I'm still trying to get it to work.
Feeling sore after so much time spent studying, I decided to go above deck. The musky scent from so many people living together nearly choked me as I passed by some sleeping crew. Climbing up the creaking stairs the first thing I noticed was the feel of the wind. Though the sun beat down on me as ever, it felt cooler and I shivered a bit. I began wishing I'd decided to get some thicker clothing. I noticed the deck was busy with several elves on either side.
I heard a voice shout and turned to look upon one of the elves on the side. He was blonde with darkly tanned skin. Several of his comrades snapped at him angrily. Drawing closer, I noticed the entire group was focused on something that was over the side. A single rope remained anchored to the mast that the crewmates took hold of. With shouts in unison, they pulled on the rope. Again and again, in perfect unison, they pulled more rope in.
My eyes were drawn to the elven physique. We Djinni are mostly the same height as humans but Elves stand literally head and shoulders above us. Their bodies are nothing but lean, sinuous muscle. I could only watch in awe as even the female crew members flexed impressively. With a mighty heave, I watched a net be drawn in from the side to land on the deck. A tight weave of something almost cloth-like in texture restrained all sorts of goods from the sea.
As the others looked over their catch, the blonde elf came over to me. With a wide, friendly smile, he began to speak words I couldn't understand. Flustered, I held up my hands and tried to explain. After a moment, I saw one of the women who had been checking fish walk over to us. Though she was slightly shorter than the man, she said something to the man. His shoulders dropped before he gave the woman a sheepish look.
“I am sorry about him, he's young and forgets not everyone speaks our tongue,” The woman smiled patting the man on the back.
Flustered, I lowered my gaze and apologized, “No, I am the one at fault. I'm aboard an elven ship and do not speak the language. I am sorry.”
“And how would you have learned? You're from a place we would never live in,” The woman laughed as the man turned to help with the fish. Some were being cast back over the side while others were set into barrels.
I kept my eyes low as I explained, “I am sorry. I don't know much about your kind.”
“And I know even less about you except you have green skin, wear little and make strange markings on our ship,” The elf laughed, “Perhaps you are some sort of Goblin?” I recoiled in disgust at the thought. Goblins were small creatures that would eat anything and kill children in stories.
Shaking my head vigorously I said, “No! Nothing of the sort! I'm a Djinni! I'd never eat a child!” This caused the woman to burst with laughter. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she guided me to the steps that lead to the upper deck. We sat next to each other as the woman's laughter finally subsided.
“The Captain said he'd been saved by an odd one,” The woman chuckled, “I doubt you recall but I'm Tishrel, second in Command of the Drifting Leaf.”
A lifetime of etiquette kicked in and I bowed my head, “Oh, my apologies. I'm Tenni Lanquist Ishzark, fourth...” My voice trailed off and I felt a tightness in my throat. It didn't matter that I was his fourth daughter now. I'd been disowned.
“You're quite the interesting one, aren't you?” Tishrel giggled, “You apologize as if you could control the world but struggle with your own name.” I blinked and stared at the woman in a daze. She looked at me as the Captain had done, cold and unflinching. Yet, it was more as if she were examining me in search of something.
Some part of me cringed but I began to speak before I knew it, “I'm sorry. It's just that I've been cast aside by my father. I've done something stupid that cannot be undone.”
“Did you take a dagger and kill someone? Perhaps you plotted against your family? Or maybe you sought to bring about your father's downfall to gain the throne yourself?” Tishrel asked as her pale lips then became a soft smile.
“No!” I shook my head, “Nothing like that! I was given a task and didn't fulfill it for one day! During that day, someone important died!”
Tishrel giggled once more, “What a cruel father, to make a child do something so important alone. Sounds cowardly to me.” I winced at her words. My father, cruel? My first instinct was to speak up in his defense. Yet, the words died before reaching my throat. Instead, I felt a tension in my chest. Placing a hand on my shoulder Tishrel added, “I don't know the whole story but you're stronger than you look if you've gotten this far.”
I turned my head away saying, “Sorry for looking weak.”
“Well, some good hard work will fix that, come help us deal with the fish,” Tishrel teased before pulling me towards the others. While most continued to sort through their catch, a few others had some thread pulled across the deck. The woman explained, “I'll let you use my knife. For now, take one and run your knife over it from tail to head.” Reaching into her pocket, Tishrel produced a small blade with a single edge and a wooden handle.
It was obviously made for her larger hands so the tool clattered from my hands. I felt the eyes of the crew on me as I picked it up. Trying not to focus on my own ineptness, I was handed one of the smaller fish after it'd stopped moving. It's slimy texture made my entire body shiver. Sucking in a breath, I did as Tishrel instructed and applied the blade to the fish. Nothing happened so I tried again. This time the tip of the blade got stuck under the gill.
No translation was necessary for the comments of the crew. I felt like running back to my cabin. My books were there and they'd not harass me. I stopped for a moment. What had I been practicing these spells for? Surely something like this would be no problem for magic! But, how? I looked at the fish hanging limply in my grasp. Then, to the dagger that felt like some oversized sword in my tiny palm. I smiled and placed both items on the floor.
Rian's hand of air. I invoked the spell with several soft words and kept my eyes on both items. Reaching out with my right hand, the fish began to levitate in front of me. Then, my left took hold of the knife. Carefully, I guided the blade to the end of the fish and brought it down. This had the unfortunate result of burying the blade halfway to the gills. All at once a loud burst of laughter broke my focus and the two objects fell to the ground. The whole crew had apparently gathered to see my magic. Feeling my cheeks burn at the laughter, I threw up my hands.
“See if I ever help you all again!” I growled and began to storm off to the ladder that led below deck.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, Tishrel easily picked me up. Laughing at my fruitless flailing she said, “We're not laughing at you.”
“You're lying,” I argued and began to kick my legs hoping to get some traction so I could break free.
Squeezing me, Tishrel giggled, “Really, we're not. Just wasn't expecting you to use magic to do something so simple.”
“I need the practice,” I went limp so Tishrel would hopefully let me go, “I need to be powerful to take revenge on the one who ruined my life!”
I felt myself be lowered and spun around to face Tishrel, “Then, let me help you practice. Come on, let's go back and try something different.”
“I want revenge, something completely ignoble. Why would you help me?” I demanded feeling my cheeks start to become damp. A warm hand rested on the top of my head, then began to stroke the back of my skull. Looking into the soft eyes of the elf, she gave me a smile.
With a chuckle Tishrel explained, “I'm a lot older than you and have had to pursue revenge as well in my life. It's not always noble but necessary. So, let's go polish your skills.” Bringing me back to the others, many scales now littered the ground. I watched the others set to work securing the barrels with ropes.
“Since that trick of yours means you don't have to touch the fish, you get to gut it,” Tishrel grinned and held one of the shimmering catch. Pointing to a bit on the belly she explained, “Take the knife and put it here, then go down. Reach in the hole and the guts will come out with a good tug. Try it.”
Once more, I prepared the vocal invocation. Rian's power flowed through me and I took the dagger once more. Just as she showed me, I stuck the knife in and then cut down. Letting the knife hover next to me, I focused on reaching inside and pulling. Sure enough, something plopped onto the ground. A sailor yelled something at me. I blinked and looked to Tishrel who motioned to a barrel. I quickly apologized and moved the guts into the empty barrel.
“I got it from here,” Tishrel said taking the fish and saying something to the others in Elven. One of the crewmen held up another fish for me and I did the same. So, most of my day was spent gutting fish or waiting as the next group would be fished up. I somehow felt Rian would be happy to see his magic used for such a feat.
As the sky became shaded orange, the last fish was taken below deck. My sore arms hung limply by my side. Sitting on the stairs to the upper deck, the wind made me shake. It was so cold but I'd not noticed it while I was working. Tishrel held two cups that had steam rising from them. Holding it out to me, I took hold of the wooden container to examine its contents. Tishrel chuckled, “I suggest not looking into it. Some things taste better when you don't know what it looks like.”
Heeding her advice, I tipped the cup back. The food slipped past my lips and I felt a warmth instantly rise up in me. It was a strange, heavily spiced taste. As a content sigh passed my lips I looked to the larger woman. She kept her hair short and away from her face. Her hands were scraped and cut from a long time working on a ship, I imagined.
Noticing my staring, Tishrel asked, “What is it?”
“You elves are pretty,” I blurted out. My free hand clamped over my lips the moment the words left me. Staring daggers into the steps below me, I heard the familiar giggles from Tishrel. It rose into laughter that drowned out the tides.
Wiping a tear from her eyes, Tishrel used her strong fingers to raise my gaze to look into her eyes. Where they were brilliant before, now they drew me into the darkness; It felt like I was looking down into the depths of the ocean. In a soft voice she told me, “Thank you.” Then, our lips joined for a fleeting instant. She tasted the same as the soup. After that, she was called away by the Captain. Sitting alone under the moon, I shivered at the thought of that kiss. And I still do every time I think of her warmth.
Summer 366
After so long on the sea I feared I might never stop reeking of salt, we arrived at the Elven village of Sandport. My first observation was the number of trees. I'd seen some grow in our garden and at a few long lived oasis but here, they were an infestation! Everything was either a tree or made of wood! I dread to think what would happen if someone discarded a smoking pipe improperly.
To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement. So much towered over me. I knew I was not that tall, even among my own people but I felt like a doll to the Elves. More so because Tishrel insisted on carrying me on her shoulder so I wouldn't get trampled. Though I appreciated her concern, I felt a bit silly up there, mounted like some prize beast she'd arrived to show off.
The main roads were lined with smaller wooden buildings with Elven writing above the door announcing its purpose. Though, I was told that the largest trees were actually homes of the prosperous. Apparently it required considerable skill or money to grow a home like that so it was a mark of nobility. Everyone else resided in the smaller wooden buildings built in the shade of those trees or, for those who couldn't afford that, would sleep in tents hidden in the branches.
Tishrel had promised to bring me to someone who could trace the path of the mercenary who had so handily destroyed my life. So, we weaved through the populous trading village where merchants in gold and green outfits met with the Captain Lizrel. Since negotiations and reports would take a while, we were left to our own devices. We approached a particularly gnarled, leafless great tree. At it's base was a door that lead below. Down amidst the roots, it was the warmest I'd been since leaving my home.
A second door opened and we were presented with wall upon wall of books. Leatherbound spines and bound stacks of papers covered everything visible. Ducking under the doorway, Tishrel set me down. She called out, “Ria! Ria, are you home?” As she pursued the person, I began examining the books. Each one was different and countless volumes lined the walls. The only break in the books was a hearth with a fire going.
“Ah! There you are!” Tishrel sighed reaching behind a bookcase. From behind it she pulled another Elven woman. She was much more slender with deathly pale skin. Her blue eyes blinked several times.
Registering the woman holding her, she asked sleepily, “Tishrel? What are you doing here?”
“I bring a client and you don't even answer when I call you!” Tishrel lectured her. Her voice was stern but far from any true anger.
Knuckling the sleep from her eyes, Ria let out a long yawn. Her blonde hair almost white in color only added to her frail look. Tishrel continued to fuss over the woman for several minutes, straightening and adjusting her gown. Ria seemed indifferent to the touch of the other woman, continually trying to keep her nose in the book she held. In the end, the three of us were at a table together.
Ria produced a stack of cards from a shelf and placed it on the table. She then shuffled them for a silent minute. I looked to Tishrel unsure but she merely motioned for me to remain silent. I watched her lay a card with its back before me. With a warm smile she said simply, “Place your hand on this card.” I followed her instruction and then she returned it to the deck. She did this several more times before shuffling a final time and arraying cards before her.
Flipping over the first card with an some eldritch mark on it, she announced, “Your desire is beyond you.” Her voice deepened as she continued to flip over cards, “What you seek is will soon draw close but shall lead to a fateful encounter. Blood shall flow. However, time must be given its due first.”
“What does that even mean?” I fell back in my seat.
“If I had to guess, whatever you're looking for will come to you if you wait,” Ria shrugged, her voice losing all the mystical majesty it gained while she was reading the cards. With a smile, Ria asked, “Then, while you wait, would you like to live here with me? I could do with a live in assistant.”
I blinked several times, before Tishrel explained, “Oh, I'm sorry. I never did give you a proper introduction. This is Ria, this village's Witch of the Wood.”
“Since I know Tishrel will need to go for a while and you've been eyeing my books like some bit of juicy manflesh, I figured you'd like to stay here.” Ria said extending a hand. I nearly fell over at the thought of it! The idea that I'd be given access to such a wealth of knowledge by a Witch! I could hardly contain myself on the trip back to the ship to get my possessions. Waving goodbye to Tishrel, I begin my days as an assistant to a Witch!
It's been eight days since I last saw the slightest hint of land. I'd heard people call my homeland a 'sea of sand' before but I never understood it fully until now. Everywhere you look, there is nothing but water. Even on deck, the crew use water to keep it clean. The song of water slapping against the side no longer bothers me as it did my first night out at sea. As I'm not a member of the crew and have no experience in sailing, I am left to my own devices generally. So, I've dedicated my time to learning more from the tomes I've brought along.
Each tome is a record left behind by a different member of my family. The easily eldest dates to one of the founders of my household, Amri. He was the head of the house's brother and spent much time protecting traders from the desert. He details little but has spoken of harnessing the winds. It was his spell that enabled me to create the sandstorm. He can even create small, sudden bursts of air to push an opponent away.
The second ancestor of mine that was blessed with power was Shera. She was Amri's daughter and as such, spent much of her time tending to family affairs. Her skills were far more practical in usage. She could start small fires or set wards against intrusion. After some practice, I began to set the wards on the floor outside my room. Every time they would walk over the mark, I'd hear a small bell. Unfortunately I forgot to undo the spell before I fell asleep. I will never make that mistake again.
It is worth noting that there is a long time gap between my ancestors with power; roughly eighty years until the tome writer begins. Even then, Rian is very secretive about his power. He was born to a common woman and his ruling father. Never practicing in the open, he only details small spells like moving an object using a 'hand of air'. Interested to test this, I stole a carrot from the galley. Making it hover and dance, I found myself realizing the convenience of never having to leave one spot. Rian never rose to high esteem or noblility and instead lived as a farmer.
Finally, there is a tome written by my great, great, great grandfather. He only learned of his power by accident when some stone nearly fell on his head. He created a shield to deflect it. His journal mostly covered the politics of his time. The rite to invoke his protective shield was poorly described, lacking anything to guide me. The trigger was a shape of his hands to be held in front of him. I'm still trying to get it to work.
Feeling sore after so much time spent studying, I decided to go above deck. The musky scent from so many people living together nearly choked me as I passed by some sleeping crew. Climbing up the creaking stairs the first thing I noticed was the feel of the wind. Though the sun beat down on me as ever, it felt cooler and I shivered a bit. I began wishing I'd decided to get some thicker clothing. I noticed the deck was busy with several elves on either side.
I heard a voice shout and turned to look upon one of the elves on the side. He was blonde with darkly tanned skin. Several of his comrades snapped at him angrily. Drawing closer, I noticed the entire group was focused on something that was over the side. A single rope remained anchored to the mast that the crewmates took hold of. With shouts in unison, they pulled on the rope. Again and again, in perfect unison, they pulled more rope in.
My eyes were drawn to the elven physique. We Djinni are mostly the same height as humans but Elves stand literally head and shoulders above us. Their bodies are nothing but lean, sinuous muscle. I could only watch in awe as even the female crew members flexed impressively. With a mighty heave, I watched a net be drawn in from the side to land on the deck. A tight weave of something almost cloth-like in texture restrained all sorts of goods from the sea.
As the others looked over their catch, the blonde elf came over to me. With a wide, friendly smile, he began to speak words I couldn't understand. Flustered, I held up my hands and tried to explain. After a moment, I saw one of the women who had been checking fish walk over to us. Though she was slightly shorter than the man, she said something to the man. His shoulders dropped before he gave the woman a sheepish look.
“I am sorry about him, he's young and forgets not everyone speaks our tongue,” The woman smiled patting the man on the back.
Flustered, I lowered my gaze and apologized, “No, I am the one at fault. I'm aboard an elven ship and do not speak the language. I am sorry.”
“And how would you have learned? You're from a place we would never live in,” The woman laughed as the man turned to help with the fish. Some were being cast back over the side while others were set into barrels.
I kept my eyes low as I explained, “I am sorry. I don't know much about your kind.”
“And I know even less about you except you have green skin, wear little and make strange markings on our ship,” The elf laughed, “Perhaps you are some sort of Goblin?” I recoiled in disgust at the thought. Goblins were small creatures that would eat anything and kill children in stories.
Shaking my head vigorously I said, “No! Nothing of the sort! I'm a Djinni! I'd never eat a child!” This caused the woman to burst with laughter. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she guided me to the steps that lead to the upper deck. We sat next to each other as the woman's laughter finally subsided.
“The Captain said he'd been saved by an odd one,” The woman chuckled, “I doubt you recall but I'm Tishrel, second in Command of the Drifting Leaf.”
A lifetime of etiquette kicked in and I bowed my head, “Oh, my apologies. I'm Tenni Lanquist Ishzark, fourth...” My voice trailed off and I felt a tightness in my throat. It didn't matter that I was his fourth daughter now. I'd been disowned.
“You're quite the interesting one, aren't you?” Tishrel giggled, “You apologize as if you could control the world but struggle with your own name.” I blinked and stared at the woman in a daze. She looked at me as the Captain had done, cold and unflinching. Yet, it was more as if she were examining me in search of something.
Some part of me cringed but I began to speak before I knew it, “I'm sorry. It's just that I've been cast aside by my father. I've done something stupid that cannot be undone.”
“Did you take a dagger and kill someone? Perhaps you plotted against your family? Or maybe you sought to bring about your father's downfall to gain the throne yourself?” Tishrel asked as her pale lips then became a soft smile.
“No!” I shook my head, “Nothing like that! I was given a task and didn't fulfill it for one day! During that day, someone important died!”
Tishrel giggled once more, “What a cruel father, to make a child do something so important alone. Sounds cowardly to me.” I winced at her words. My father, cruel? My first instinct was to speak up in his defense. Yet, the words died before reaching my throat. Instead, I felt a tension in my chest. Placing a hand on my shoulder Tishrel added, “I don't know the whole story but you're stronger than you look if you've gotten this far.”
I turned my head away saying, “Sorry for looking weak.”
“Well, some good hard work will fix that, come help us deal with the fish,” Tishrel teased before pulling me towards the others. While most continued to sort through their catch, a few others had some thread pulled across the deck. The woman explained, “I'll let you use my knife. For now, take one and run your knife over it from tail to head.” Reaching into her pocket, Tishrel produced a small blade with a single edge and a wooden handle.
It was obviously made for her larger hands so the tool clattered from my hands. I felt the eyes of the crew on me as I picked it up. Trying not to focus on my own ineptness, I was handed one of the smaller fish after it'd stopped moving. It's slimy texture made my entire body shiver. Sucking in a breath, I did as Tishrel instructed and applied the blade to the fish. Nothing happened so I tried again. This time the tip of the blade got stuck under the gill.
No translation was necessary for the comments of the crew. I felt like running back to my cabin. My books were there and they'd not harass me. I stopped for a moment. What had I been practicing these spells for? Surely something like this would be no problem for magic! But, how? I looked at the fish hanging limply in my grasp. Then, to the dagger that felt like some oversized sword in my tiny palm. I smiled and placed both items on the floor.
Rian's hand of air. I invoked the spell with several soft words and kept my eyes on both items. Reaching out with my right hand, the fish began to levitate in front of me. Then, my left took hold of the knife. Carefully, I guided the blade to the end of the fish and brought it down. This had the unfortunate result of burying the blade halfway to the gills. All at once a loud burst of laughter broke my focus and the two objects fell to the ground. The whole crew had apparently gathered to see my magic. Feeling my cheeks burn at the laughter, I threw up my hands.
“See if I ever help you all again!” I growled and began to storm off to the ladder that led below deck.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, Tishrel easily picked me up. Laughing at my fruitless flailing she said, “We're not laughing at you.”
“You're lying,” I argued and began to kick my legs hoping to get some traction so I could break free.
Squeezing me, Tishrel giggled, “Really, we're not. Just wasn't expecting you to use magic to do something so simple.”
“I need the practice,” I went limp so Tishrel would hopefully let me go, “I need to be powerful to take revenge on the one who ruined my life!”
I felt myself be lowered and spun around to face Tishrel, “Then, let me help you practice. Come on, let's go back and try something different.”
“I want revenge, something completely ignoble. Why would you help me?” I demanded feeling my cheeks start to become damp. A warm hand rested on the top of my head, then began to stroke the back of my skull. Looking into the soft eyes of the elf, she gave me a smile.
With a chuckle Tishrel explained, “I'm a lot older than you and have had to pursue revenge as well in my life. It's not always noble but necessary. So, let's go polish your skills.” Bringing me back to the others, many scales now littered the ground. I watched the others set to work securing the barrels with ropes.
“Since that trick of yours means you don't have to touch the fish, you get to gut it,” Tishrel grinned and held one of the shimmering catch. Pointing to a bit on the belly she explained, “Take the knife and put it here, then go down. Reach in the hole and the guts will come out with a good tug. Try it.”
Once more, I prepared the vocal invocation. Rian's power flowed through me and I took the dagger once more. Just as she showed me, I stuck the knife in and then cut down. Letting the knife hover next to me, I focused on reaching inside and pulling. Sure enough, something plopped onto the ground. A sailor yelled something at me. I blinked and looked to Tishrel who motioned to a barrel. I quickly apologized and moved the guts into the empty barrel.
“I got it from here,” Tishrel said taking the fish and saying something to the others in Elven. One of the crewmen held up another fish for me and I did the same. So, most of my day was spent gutting fish or waiting as the next group would be fished up. I somehow felt Rian would be happy to see his magic used for such a feat.
As the sky became shaded orange, the last fish was taken below deck. My sore arms hung limply by my side. Sitting on the stairs to the upper deck, the wind made me shake. It was so cold but I'd not noticed it while I was working. Tishrel held two cups that had steam rising from them. Holding it out to me, I took hold of the wooden container to examine its contents. Tishrel chuckled, “I suggest not looking into it. Some things taste better when you don't know what it looks like.”
Heeding her advice, I tipped the cup back. The food slipped past my lips and I felt a warmth instantly rise up in me. It was a strange, heavily spiced taste. As a content sigh passed my lips I looked to the larger woman. She kept her hair short and away from her face. Her hands were scraped and cut from a long time working on a ship, I imagined.
Noticing my staring, Tishrel asked, “What is it?”
“You elves are pretty,” I blurted out. My free hand clamped over my lips the moment the words left me. Staring daggers into the steps below me, I heard the familiar giggles from Tishrel. It rose into laughter that drowned out the tides.
Wiping a tear from her eyes, Tishrel used her strong fingers to raise my gaze to look into her eyes. Where they were brilliant before, now they drew me into the darkness; It felt like I was looking down into the depths of the ocean. In a soft voice she told me, “Thank you.” Then, our lips joined for a fleeting instant. She tasted the same as the soup. After that, she was called away by the Captain. Sitting alone under the moon, I shivered at the thought of that kiss. And I still do every time I think of her warmth.
Summer 366
After so long on the sea I feared I might never stop reeking of salt, we arrived at the Elven village of Sandport. My first observation was the number of trees. I'd seen some grow in our garden and at a few long lived oasis but here, they were an infestation! Everything was either a tree or made of wood! I dread to think what would happen if someone discarded a smoking pipe improperly.
To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement. So much towered over me. I knew I was not that tall, even among my own people but I felt like a doll to the Elves. More so because Tishrel insisted on carrying me on her shoulder so I wouldn't get trampled. Though I appreciated her concern, I felt a bit silly up there, mounted like some prize beast she'd arrived to show off.
The main roads were lined with smaller wooden buildings with Elven writing above the door announcing its purpose. Though, I was told that the largest trees were actually homes of the prosperous. Apparently it required considerable skill or money to grow a home like that so it was a mark of nobility. Everyone else resided in the smaller wooden buildings built in the shade of those trees or, for those who couldn't afford that, would sleep in tents hidden in the branches.
Tishrel had promised to bring me to someone who could trace the path of the mercenary who had so handily destroyed my life. So, we weaved through the populous trading village where merchants in gold and green outfits met with the Captain Lizrel. Since negotiations and reports would take a while, we were left to our own devices. We approached a particularly gnarled, leafless great tree. At it's base was a door that lead below. Down amidst the roots, it was the warmest I'd been since leaving my home.
A second door opened and we were presented with wall upon wall of books. Leatherbound spines and bound stacks of papers covered everything visible. Ducking under the doorway, Tishrel set me down. She called out, “Ria! Ria, are you home?” As she pursued the person, I began examining the books. Each one was different and countless volumes lined the walls. The only break in the books was a hearth with a fire going.
“Ah! There you are!” Tishrel sighed reaching behind a bookcase. From behind it she pulled another Elven woman. She was much more slender with deathly pale skin. Her blue eyes blinked several times.
Registering the woman holding her, she asked sleepily, “Tishrel? What are you doing here?”
“I bring a client and you don't even answer when I call you!” Tishrel lectured her. Her voice was stern but far from any true anger.
Knuckling the sleep from her eyes, Ria let out a long yawn. Her blonde hair almost white in color only added to her frail look. Tishrel continued to fuss over the woman for several minutes, straightening and adjusting her gown. Ria seemed indifferent to the touch of the other woman, continually trying to keep her nose in the book she held. In the end, the three of us were at a table together.
Ria produced a stack of cards from a shelf and placed it on the table. She then shuffled them for a silent minute. I looked to Tishrel unsure but she merely motioned for me to remain silent. I watched her lay a card with its back before me. With a warm smile she said simply, “Place your hand on this card.” I followed her instruction and then she returned it to the deck. She did this several more times before shuffling a final time and arraying cards before her.
Flipping over the first card with an some eldritch mark on it, she announced, “Your desire is beyond you.” Her voice deepened as she continued to flip over cards, “What you seek is will soon draw close but shall lead to a fateful encounter. Blood shall flow. However, time must be given its due first.”
“What does that even mean?” I fell back in my seat.
“If I had to guess, whatever you're looking for will come to you if you wait,” Ria shrugged, her voice losing all the mystical majesty it gained while she was reading the cards. With a smile, Ria asked, “Then, while you wait, would you like to live here with me? I could do with a live in assistant.”
I blinked several times, before Tishrel explained, “Oh, I'm sorry. I never did give you a proper introduction. This is Ria, this village's Witch of the Wood.”
“Since I know Tishrel will need to go for a while and you've been eyeing my books like some bit of juicy manflesh, I figured you'd like to stay here.” Ria said extending a hand. I nearly fell over at the thought of it! The idea that I'd be given access to such a wealth of knowledge by a Witch! I could hardly contain myself on the trip back to the ship to get my possessions. Waving goodbye to Tishrel, I begin my days as an assistant to a Witch!