Ayuen
The hills of the Grey Crown Mountains, The Grasping Isle
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/926707024362885130/1045841100604186624/Ayuen-WayX.png]
Sighing, Ayuen fed the horses their daily ‘feast’. A feast consisting of some leftover grains and foraged grasses. They had been running low on supplies for a while. The group hadn’t left Maiden’s Vale with much and their encounter with Rove’s brother had not helped either. Rove was currently out foraging what he could from the forest while Trïeste was busy tending to the camp. The girl was humming, having braided her auburn hair to keep it out of the fire. They all had fallen into a routine in the last couple of days without much deliberation amongst themselves. It just hadn’t proven necessary. Scratching the side of her hairdo, she looked up to the sky while the horses were eating a couple of meters away. Couldn’t she have flown to the Clasp’s Spring herself? Her wings could’ve carried her all the way. She had asked herself that question as long as she had been on the Grasping Isle. But she always reached the same conclusion. Sure, she could’ve tried travelling on her own. But there were too many uncertainties and dangers she would encounter. By the Arals, she wouldn’t have liked to come across a party like Prado’s on her own. A Pyrn or Yrus warrior could easily chase her out of the sky. Even a Cloudiz would prove troublesome, even though the fish-tailed and fin-winged race was less agile in the air than her people were. And if they caught up, that would be it. It would be over.
She shot a glance in the direction of the camp, listening closely. There wasn’t anything going on at the moment, so why not take the opportunity to stretch her wings for a bit? They were in the middle of nowhere. They’d lost their pursuers. If she kept to the hills and near the treetops, things should be fine. She hadn’t flown in so long, the urge to feel the wind underneath her wings was killing her.
A tingle of excitement crawled its way up her spine as a warm feeling settled in her stomach, a mischievous spark in her eyes. After making sure that Trïeste wasn’t looking, she took off. With a couple of strong beats of her membraned wings, the poët flew over the treetops. Being as careful as she could, she avoided any major paths she came across while keeping low. The wings flowed past her wings and made her crimson hair flutter and whip. She loved the feeling of flying up high. But in the last weeks, she hadn’t had much chance to enjoy it. Rove had asked her once to use her flight for scouting, but they’d decided it would be far to dangerous. The ghostly sensation of an arrow zipping past her bubbled up from her thoughts as she sharply turned to avoid a large clearing. Careful. Had to be careful.
With the grace and skill of a born flyer, Ayuen landed on top of a small rocky bluff overlooking the area. Looking around at the landscape, she tucked her hair behind her ears and took her notebook out of her bag. The mountains and hills around her were covered with all kinds of trees and shrubs, the green and red leaves of the deciduous trees forming a mosaic of red, green, and yellow in the valleys. The pines higher up give the heights in the distance a more dark-green appearance. She just had to sketch it and save the sight for a poem later on, when she had some more time on her hands. Her eyes inquisitively wandered over the path they were roughly following, scanning the horizon for any sign of habitation so she would have some actual information to bring back to Rove.
But alas, she saw nothing of note. Just trees, mountains, and more trees. The everpresent Clasp river ran close to the road, the sound barely breaking through the sounds of wind and birds in the background. Due to the river, getting lost at this stage was practically impossible as long as they kept close to the water. It was almost too easy and too boring, she thought to herself. Not quite, but almost. She vastly preferred this over getting beat up by armoured men any day.
Her pencils scratched the paper softly as she skillfully sketched the area, leaving the colours basic to save time.
Ayuen’s mind wandered to Prado and the abuse-ridden relationship Rove seemed to have with his family. It was hard not to feel sorry for him. A proud man like him being reduced to a shivering husk at the mere sight of his family was a new experience for her. Her hand stopped sketching, and she tapped the point against the side of the book. Even though it was a new experience, she wasn’t sure if this was one she’d like to put on paper.
The feeling of having your father ripped away from you. By your mother, no less. The Pyrn poët shivered, it having nothing to do with the weather. She still had both her parents and a good relationship with them to boot. Sure, they had their differences from time to time, but who didn’t? Rove’s situation was distorted to a whole other level. Frowning at her book, she found that she’d lost her drive to sketch. Reaching down, she stowed her gear away. Muttering a soft ‘hop’ to herself, she took to the sky once more, swiftly heading back in the direction of their little camp. She landed a little distance away and snuck back, carefully looking for any signs of grumpy men skulking about. The camp seemed empty enough. Even Trïeste wasn’t around. Considering herself lucky, she straightened her clothes and her wings and sat down in front of the tents. Half a minute later, Trïeste returned, giving her a cheerful salute as she approached.
“Howdy! Had a nice trip?” The young woman asked, sitting down next to her. She was grinning, giving her a wink. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Rove about it!”
And she was caught. That didn’t last long. Ayuen glanced away, a slight blush on her cheeks.
“Quite, yes. I required a certain change of pace. Didn’t go far.”
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“Hah! I know right? Doing the same every day. Setting up camp, takin’ care of the horses, cookin’, repeat. I mean, horses don’t need brushin’ every day, right?” Trïeste ran a hand through her hair. “Like, even I don’t brush my hair every day!”
Ayuen laid herself down with a deep sigh. “I’m not an expert in horse tending, but I’m quite certain that once per day is rather exorbitant.”
“It’s what now?”
“… Unreasonable.”
“Aahh, check.”
The Pyrn fidgeted a blade of grass between her fingers. It wasn’t like they had anything to do until Rove came back. Cooking was rather difficult without food to cook.
“Hhmm, I hope that Rove can acquire some decent food for us soon.” She murmured, partly to herself and partly to Trïeste.
“We’ll be fine. Besides, give the guy some slack. He probably is still gettin’ over the whole ‘my family wants to kill me’ thing, the poor sod.”
“Certainly true. Which reminds me, Trïeste… I’d like to know your view on this whole family conundrum Rove has going on.”
“Rove’s family?” Trïeste raised a finger to her lower lip, frowning. “First thing that comes to mind is that I don’t envy the guy. I mean… Murderous mother and brother with lots of mercs at her beck and call? That’s kinda scary.”
Ayuen hummed in agreement. “Indeed. But you have to pity him as well, right?”
“Eh, a bit.” The girl’s face soured while she looked at the leaves laying at her feet. Somehow, it made Trïeste look older, more experienced, and more hurt. “I guess I can relate a lil’ bit to his situation.”
Ayuen sat upright and tilted her head while she observed the alchemist girl. People carried a lot behind a façade, and it would seem that Trïeste was no exception.
“Losing a loved one always leaves a gouge on the soul, they say,” Ayuen spoke, her voice soft and compassionate. “If you feel more comfortable dropping the subject, I don’t mind if we talk about something else?”
“No no no,” Trïeste said firmly, shaking her head violently and sending the thick cinnamon-coloured braid flying around her face. “As Rove would say, the more we know what makes us tick, the better. It’s just... my father died quite recently, so it’s still rather difficult to talk about.”
Ayuen nodded and softly put a hand on Trïeste’s upper arm, choosing to keep silent for now. Trïeste just nodded, her smile turning more sad she continued.
“Long story short, father came across some thuggish and brutish people while doing his duty, and they took his life without a second thought. Maybe for sport, or to send a message. Or a bit of both, even.”
The world was a cruel place, Ayuen thought to herself. The more she saw and heard, the more she realized that she had been one of the lucky individuals. Even though her parents were most likely in prison at the moment, she was sure both of them were alive.
“That’s… monstrous. Your mother and your siblings, are they all right?”
Trïeste took a deep breath as she seemed to struggle. Nonetheless, her voice was composed and unwavering, even though sadness rang through her words.
“My mother is alive and… well. As well as she can be after what happened to dad. As for any siblings, I’m an only child. So that’s a silver linin’, y’know?”
“It’ll be fine,” Ayuen said softly. “Maybe time won’t be able to heal the wound completely, but the pain will dull.” Feeling a bit motherly, she wiped the tear from Trïeste’s cheek. “And you’ve acquired some new acquaintances now. If there is anything I or Rove can do for you, feel free to ask us. Rove can be gruff and uncouth, but we can both see the soft spots in that shell of his.”
The girl gave Ayuen a small smile. Somehow, Ayuen had the feeling that this was the first time she’d seen what was below the surface of Trïeste’s façade.
“Oi, who exactly are you calling uncouth?” A deep voice suddenly called out from the undergrowth. Rove made his appearance soon after, carrying dinner with him in the form of three rabbits. “Not something you ought to say to somebody who has just caught you a luxury dinner.” He reprimanded, but his eyes glistened with amusement. He raised the rabbits and threw them next to the campfire.
“Pfft,” Ayuen responded, pouting her lips. “As if you can deny there’s truth behind that statement, Rove.”
“What? The uncouth part or the part where I will help Trïeste? Because I’ve got things to say to at least one of those.”
Effortlessly, the Herhor dodged a pinecone aimed squarely at his head. While Trïeste let out a soft ‘tsk’ when her throw failed, Ayuen settled for giving the man a raised eyebrow.
“At any rate,” The Herhor continued, pointing to the rabbits. “Can you two cook those up? We could all use some tasty dinner.”
With all their stomachs growling at the thought of cooked rabbit, the two women couldn’t do much else than agree. They went to work, with Ayuen getting the fire and utensils ready while Trïeste deboned and prepared the rabbits for consumption. Although the poët preferred to cook and take care of the fire, deboning the animals themselves was a tad too gruesome for her. Good for her that Trïeste and Rove didn’t mind doing the dirty work. As the two of them worked, Rove took stock of their supplies and checked the traps he’d laid nearby to ward off any unwanted company.
“So, Rove,” Ayuen spoke up, having ignited the fire and just beginning to fry the meat, licking her lips in anticipation. “Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“You know. Provide some help to Trïeste.”
“Maybe. If the price is right, or if I have another good reason.”
“Is ‘empathy’ a good reason?”
Rove’s eyes peeked out from behind a tree, frowning at her.
“We aren’t main characters in one of your fairytales. Favours do not pay my bills and don’t put food on the table. As much as I would like it to. Sure, I’ll help. But I cannot afford to help for nothing.”
A thought popped up in Ayuen’s mind and before she could stop herself, the words just flopped out of her mouth.
“Even if it would mean you could take revenge on your family?”
The rustling of leaves stopped suddenly, and Rove stepped onto the campsite again. He opened his mouth to say something but appeared to decide otherwise, sighing instead and sitting down.
“Maybe…” He muttered. “Maybe. I’m not sure yet myself what I want to do. Having your past haunt you like this? Makes a man need a good drink, that’s for sure.” And to place some emphasis on his words, he promptly took out his waterskin and gulped some of its contents down. Ayuen raised her hand to reach for him before she dropped it slowly.
“Let it sink in for a while. And if you want to share your thoughts, I’m always available.” Ayuen said with a somewhat worried tone. He acted tough, but he’d been through a lot in the last couple of weeks. Probably even more than she had.
Wiping the water off his lips, the man nodded solemnly.
“Thank you. I …. Appreciate it, Ayuen.”
Ayuen gave him a warm smile and offered him the first piece of rabbit meat before offering Trïeste one as well.
“This will make the both of you jubilant, I’m sure. Eat up and enjoy!”
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