Erika woke up and groaned in pain. Not a good start to the day she just about managed to think between the heartbeat of white agony blazing in her forehead.
Part of the problem was how little sleep she’d gotten and the whole spending a day in an anxious haze but the mead was also part of the problem… yeah, the mead didn’t do her any favours, she could see the light creeping in under her shutters, she didn’t have time to be hung over. Reaching out with a single dainty finger Erika traced a pattern in the air, into the air, cutting into it like blade into snow.
She’d tried to explain it before of course, every Vitki tries at least once, tries to explain magic to someone without it, how it feels but... well I could use the blind/colour cliche but it isn’t like that at all. The best way to describe it is a story, magic isn't maths (unless your one of those vracian weirdos) it’s nothing mechanical or formulaic, it’s a saga, poetry, a day dream, it’s something you feel not think, you tell a story and the realm stops and listens.
Even the shapes she cut into the air were the same as they were yesterday, they were part of the story, part of the saga and her magick. Erika clenched bits of herself that didn’t exist, sucking in Odium from the realm around her and pushing it into her Sal, access to one of the schools of magic was linked to igniting one of the parts of the Sal, an arch-sage had all of their Sal ignited, Erika only had one part, but it was more than enough for this.
Her Hamr drank from her Odium Well, fuelling itself as she thought of the story, of a traveller dying to thirst on a little island, surrounded by nothing but the sea, and how she smiled and laughed and lived when it rained.
The story told the mystery unfolds; Erika felt her Well dry by about half as she cast the 2nd circle spell (Restorative Draft).
“Ooooooooh, thank Sigurn for that. Felt like Thor was trying to break out from behind my eyeballs.” Muttered Erika slouching upwards in the way teenagers do and downing the glass of water she habitually kept there, even when she wasn't drinking, she often woke up parched which was paying dividends today. After another few heartbeats the spell finished working through her and Erika stumbled off her bed and into the middle of her room.
Stretching thoroughly as she did every morning Erika felt a suddenly melancholy wash over her as she looked at her cosy little room, wondering for a moment if today would be the last time she saw it, this expedition would be dangerous, more dangerous than anything she’d ever done but she needed to didn’t she, even if she might… Shaking her head desperately and beginning to hum Erika grabbed that thought, tied it up and threw it off a cliff. She was a Vitki she would come back alive and she would make her mother proud.
A few minutes of very light exercise and Erika felt fully woken up and strolled over to a fur hung doorway set into the wall leading to a small water closet with shiny brass equipment and running water in cold or hot. Erika went through her ablutions and cleaned herself thoroughly, nothing said unprofessional like smell after all, then selected a simple cloth tunic for the day, a moment later she took out a satchel she’d bought a few years ago and filled it with enough clean clothes for a month and a bit, as long as she could wash them regularly at least, but the trip couldn’t be that uncivilised, could it? Preparations practically complete already Erika bustled around grabbing the small dagger her mother gave her, her money pouch and a handful of books she might want. Taking one last look around her room Erika threw on her Vitki’s mantle and slowly opened her door.
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Creeping out into the hallway Erika saw that both of the other doors in their little basement level were open which meant her siblings must already be out and about. Scowling to herself she surged up the stairs, along the landing, up another set of stairs and into the ground floor of the house, through the main room, across the hall from the workshop and…
“Erika I made breakfast!”
…She was stopped by her elder brother Egil who was stood behind their roaring heart with a big beaming grin and had three plates of something steaming with a deliciously savoury scent. A few steps back from him was Erika’s sister who had already grabbed and was in the middle of devouring her bowl of… whatever it was, her raiment of chainmail and fur only half on, presumably she was either just coming back from one of her patrols, as one of the cities best rangers the Thing and the Jarl kept her busy.
Erika thought for a moment, she did need to eat no matter how worried she was and her brother really was a fantastic cook. Putting on her best air of false confidence Erika swaggered in and sat down at the table taking one of the bowls and a knife from her brother and muttering a thank you.
“Sup prude.” Said her sister, Kara, still nose deep in her bowl.
“Sup whore.” Erika replied without missing a beat.
Egil gave both women a long-suffering look then sat down and began to eat as well. It was a dish of lightly seasoned meatballs made from the meat of different game animals floating in a soup of herbs. Egil really was a fantastic cook Erika reflected as she dug in.
“Oh, we got a message from the temple of Hoenir yesterday,” Egil said between huge bites. “Mom says she’s coming home early, something about the wards and the army or something.”
Kara looked pleased by that perking up from her normal morning stupor, Egil was smiling as well but for Erika, the news was like a dagger of ice into her heart. Not much time, need to go, won’t get back, stupid, shouldn’t, should. The thoughts ran around and around in her head pilling into each other until her forehead throbbed.
Erika finished her meal in a daze, stacking her bowl next to the others by the cleaning rune in its alcove, then quietly slipped away towards the door. She didn’t know how long she’d wasted on breakfast she was supposed to meet at 6 branches right? She needed to…
“Hey Erika.”
Erika squealed with shock and jumped into the air, turning as she did so like a frightened cat and landing to glare at…
“Hey hey it’s just me.” Said Kara spreading her hands.
“Sorry.” Erika turned her deep breath into a sigh and let her metaphorical hackles fall, she was far to wired this morning.
“Are you ok little? You barely touched your food and you never flinch like that.”
Erika hadn't been called “little” in years, it was her sisters nickname for her back when she was the shortest in the house, it was… nice being called it again.
“Yeah, don’t worry I'm fine, you know how it is… I just had a nightmare, it left me on edge.”
Kara stared at her for a long moment before nodding. “Ok, I won’t press.”
As Kara wandered away Erika frowned Too damn sharp she thought (not for the first time), she knows somethings wrong, I need to go.
Erika kicked open her door and took a deep breath of the early morning air. Birdsong and voices mixed, the smell of pollen and steam coal smoke and meat washed over her, a bitter wind washed across her chilling her bones as Erika strode off into the city.