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The Missing Bloodline
Ch. 11 -- Gillsberry and The Whiteflower

Ch. 11 -- Gillsberry and The Whiteflower

Godric, accompanied by Anarórë and her most trustworthy patrol trekked through the vast and vibrant woods of the great elven king Ithilien. He had informed them beforehand that he was not on friendly terms with the Houses located north of the king's domain, and they collectively decided on traversing through the forests instead as it provided them safety and cover from the prying eyes of those who wanted the boy dead. Godric originally thought that the journey would take longer than expected given the circumstances, however, they surprisingly progressed a considerable amount of distance; mainly because of the elves' knowledge of the area and that the forest itself was a natural wall that separated two other Great Houses from the race of Men, with one of the two being House Polifio.

After a long while, they had finally found themselves on the edge of where House Alastrassa's realm would end. The princess then raised her hand, signaling the entire company to stop.

"We're here," Anarórë said as she turned to look at Godric. "This is as far as we can go. We've done all we can to guide you here as instructed, but from here on out after you take a single step out of these woods you will be crossing the lands of Men, and we can help you no longer." She then signaled her squadron to turn back deep into the woods, leaving the two alone. Anarórë was the last to move as she stared at Godric with a blank expression on her face, she waited until the last of her kind was out of sight, then finally turned and began to walk away.

"Wait," Godric called out to her, stopping Anarórë in her tracks. "I don't mean to take up too much of your time and this might be the last time we will ever speak again, so at least humor me with an answer. Do you hate me?" he asked her, which made the princess sigh and bow down her head in silence.

"I do not hate you, Godric. I envy you." She finally answered, leaving Godric stunned at her answer.

Why? He asked himself. Why would someone such as Anarórë be envious of me? Before he could ask for the meaning behind her words, the elf had already disappeared, leaving Godric alone aside from his weapon and satchel. An uneasy feeling washed over him. He knew that there was something more to her answer. If he were to be honest with himself, he found that mysterious and brooding side of her annoying. A moment or two had passed until he finally brushed away all those thoughts, as he had to stay focused. There was still a task to be done. He then walked toward the edge of the woods and stepped onto the main road, acknowledging that he was finally on his own and that his quest had begun.

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He was unfamiliar with the lands beyond his hometown but the map that the elves had provided before they departed from Mistveil Forest helped him with this problem. The parchment was marked with the names of the roads, rivers, towns, and castles of Men which were written in the tongue of the elves, but Godric found this to be not too bothersome as his lessons with lómë taught him a trick or two. With a simple manipulation of mana onto the parchment, the words shifted and changed shape into the language he grew up with. He smiled for a bit, as he felt proud of himself for reaching this far and carried that spirited, cheery thought with him as he started to depart toward his destination which was still a daunting distance away.

He encountered a few people along the way who greeted him. Godric thought he would be raising suspicion on the spot due to his elven-made robes that hid his armor and weapons beneath, but those he encountered treated him as any other would. They must have already seen their fair share of adventurers and travelers. Hours went by, and he continued to traverse the road despite the potential dangers, as it was the fastest way toward the cavern. He hadn't grown accustomed to the land itself as well, for they were far from the flowery fields and farmlands of the Polifios. He thought he had grown accustomed to new things as he spent almost four to five fortnights in Mistveil Forest, but the world never ceased to amaze him.

Time passed, and the night was almost upon him, but in the distance, he saw specks of light coming from a few houses. He looked at his map to confirm his whereabouts. "If I am correct then Gillsberry lies ahead of me," he said to himself as he looked at the sky that slowly turned dark and gloomy, signifying that rain was about to pour.

I must hurry now.

Without hesitation, he set aside the paper and immediately quickened his pace, hoping to reach the town before the weather caught up to him.

The rain consumed the land moments later, soaking Godric's entire body and clothing while a few drops of water trickled onto his armor. It wasn't long until he eventually reached the small town that looked abandoned and dark. He immediately looked for a place to stay, scanning his surroundings, until he saw a building that would serve as his quarters for the night.

The Whiteflower, it was named. It was larger compared to the other structures and was well-designed too. Godric could see flashes of light inside signaling activity, and bustling noises of both men and women. He then entered and found the inn bursting with activity; a complete contrast to the world found outside.

Songs were sung, food was being served and consumed at every table and not a single hand in the room was without a mug of ale. "Another round of ale here!" a stranger shouted. "More meat stew and bread on ours as well!" another from the opposite side of the inn chimed in. Godric observed every face and noticed that some were not of Primera. He squeezed through the chaotic mess of people who sang and danced along to the bard's composition.

"Excuse me," he said to the innkeeper after he reached the end where a man had stood behind a bar. "I'd like to rent a room for the night if any is still available." Godric studied him more carefully and was surprised. He was an old soul, most likely in his late seventies. His body was frail and had scars all over. From the looks of how he approached Godric, he also seemed to have difficulty walking on one leg as he limped. Despite his worn-out features, the man wore the brightest smile. Amidst the singing, the dancing, and the joyful chaos inside the inn, it felt like he radiated happiness the most; almost as if he had already reached a level of contentment that every other soul in the room had hoped to achieve in life.

"And how can I help you, lad?" The old man asked Godric. "I-I'd like a room please, provided that there's still any available," he responded louder this time as he took out two gold coins and put them in front of the man.

"I suppose these would do?" The old man then looked at the stairway, which was crowded with people. "Not to worry as you're in luck: there's still a room left. Head up the stairs until you reach the window, and enter the last room on the right. That one's yours." He tucked the gold coins into his pouch and took out a key.

"Here's the key. Hold on to it and give it back before you plan on going. If you plan on staying longer, pay a coin before returning to your room the night before you want to sleep," the old man instructed Godric who nodded at his instructions. He looked at the stairway and saw it was filled with hunters.

"Are you always this busy, old man?" Godric asked the innkeeper who chuckled at his remark. "Absolutely lad. I used to think I would get used to all this rabble, yet despite my years of seeing all kinds of things, I keep getting surprised by the young ones. Oh, what I'd pay to be young again." He sighed but coughed hard afterward, which caught Godric's attention.

"Sorry to ask but are you sick by any chance?" Godric asked him.

"Bah! It's nothing, lad. A young one like you shouldn't be concerned with the problems of us old folk. Although truth be told, it would be nice for me to join the great hunt tomorrow one last time." The old man answered as he stared off into the fireplace, his eyes wandering toward a distant memory.

"The great hunt?" Godric asked. "Sorry, I'm new to these parts. Could you tell me what that is?"

"Oh, you're new to Gillsberry? Where are my manners--welcome to our humble abode, lad. There's nothing much to say about our town except that we're merely home to The Whiteflower, this beauty of a treasure constructed over two hundred years ago." The old man narrated to Godric who listened intently.

"Simply put, the great hunt is a local event held on the vast lands of House Huntingborne once every quarter of a century. Every twenty-five years, legions of wild animals and beasts migrate from place to place in search of a new home or for food. Most of the spirited folk you see here are hunters from different parts of Primera. Some of them even come from neighboring continents. The tradition started about nine hundred years ago. Back then, only the Houses Huntingborne and those who served under their banner participated in it, but as our culture expanded, knowledge of the event attracted other people, and of course--if you are a true huntsman, who are you to resist the call of the wild?" The old man rattled as the noises of singing and dancing surrounded them.

"Well then, why aren't they sleeping now?" Godric asked. "Shouldn't they be well rested and prepared for what lies ahead?" He asked, confused at what he saw.

"That's the beauty of it lad. They know they should be resting, but they're choosing not to. I've joined the hunt two times already, as you can see. When the hunt begins, we do not know what beasts we encounter. We go in with the idea of being the predators, but might turn into prey at any moment." He filled two mugs of ale and handed one over to Godric who immediately drank it halfway. "We know that our chances of dying are high, and so we celebrate this life as we see fit on the nights before the hunt begins, knowing that we gave it our all before falling to whatever beast awaits us. Glory in death, lad." The old man gulped down his ale in one swift motion.

"Ahhh... that hit the spot. Want another?" he asked Godric, who politely declined the offer. "Well, more for me then. Bwahaha!" He laughed but coughed hard again, cursing under his breath. Godric felt bad for the man, but he could not do anything in the state that he was now. He altered his sight using mana and saw the innkeeper's glow. The innkeeper's light was a dirty shade of white, blurry and faded; a stark contrast to the others who radiated a bright, radiant hue. Godric knew he wouldn't last much longer until his sickness was cured.

"Thanks for the drink, by the way." Godric reached out and attempted to place a gold coin on the table, but the innkeeper refused the payment.

"No need lad--this one's on me," he smiled at Godric who responded with one of his in kind. "I'll be off to sleep now," The old man waved him off as Godric climbed up the steps, passing by strangers from left to right. "Excuse me, make way please." The boy said as he headed toward his room.

He noticed that not everyone joined in on the festivities. As he headed toward his room, he noticed a few open doors. He caught glimpses of others in the loving embrace of their respective lovers. He saw a person or two pray to their gods. He even saw others who slept through the noise that resonated from below. Godric silently walked on the wooden floor, careful not to disrupt their evening, and eventually found himself at the end of the hallway where his room was found.

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Before he entered, Godric noticed that the room across his was slightly open, and caught sight of a bruised and bloody man being tended to by a girl who seemed to be only a few years younger than Godric. He stopped for a minute and watched as she cleaned his wounds delicately. A moment came when she turned in his direction and briefly locked eyes with him, causing the two of them to blush. The maiden quickly moved to fetch a fresh batch of linen while Godric awkwardly turned around to unlock his room and entered, feeling surprisingly flustered.

Despite the price, the room was better than he had expected. It had a well-made bed, enough space to move around, and a functioning faucet. I can see why this place is always full. He thought to himself. After removing his cloak that covered his armor and weapon, he locked the door and hung his bag onto the door handle. He removed his boots and slowly nestled onto the bed, eventually drifting into a deep slumber.

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Morning came, and Godric woke up feeling well-rested and in a good mood. It was a refreshing thought for him, waking up to the idea that he wouldn't be meditating for hours on end with lómë, or being beaten until he was on the verge of dying because of Anarórë. It was not that he did not find their sessions useless--it was the complete opposite of this thought. He only missed the feeling of not being restricted to doing the same thing again, which was, in many ways, liberating.

He washed his face and suited up for the journey ahead. He planned on eating downstairs first before he continued and wanted to say his goodbyes to the innkeeper. Godric opened the door to his room and found the hallway full of sleeping people, still drunk from last night. Godric sighed and looked at where he was stepping on, being careful not to disturb them. As he walked down the stairs, he heard huddled noises coming from an open door just behind the innkeeper's counter.

He slowly made his way and the noises became clear enough for him to understand what was happening.

"How's he holding up?" a voice asked. "Not good. From the looks of things, he has a week left at most if the Divines were generous enough," Godric entered the room and saw a group of hunters surrounding the old man, who lay coughing and wheezing on a bed. Sitting in front of him was the blonde-haired girl he encountered last night. Her eyes were swollen from crying, with her face full of concern as she wiped his forehead and chin with a wet cloth.

The old man slowly reached out and patted her head, attempting to comfort her. "Worry not, sweet child..." he spoke weakly. "I might not be able to go out the way I wanted to, but your presence comforts me greatly. Knowing that you're here, I know that this place will be in good hands when I pass--" he was cut off short as he began to cough hard again, staining the cloth with blood as the girl attempted to help him.

A hunter stepped between the two, pressing her hand on his forehead. She then followed through with a worried look on her face. "His fever is getting worse. I'll do what I can to ease his pain, but you'll have to find a remedy soon. Otherwise, we might lose him faster than expected."

"But where do we even start? We've been looking for a cure for the old man for five autumn seasons now, and we still haven't come close to finding a cure!" another remarked, frustrated. "We've searched every corner of Primera, and have asked countless medical practitioners, but the only thing we were able to do was to prolong the old man's agony." The room fell silent as the girl rushed out of the inn, passing by Godric. She sobbed as tears flowed from her eyes.

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Godric followed in pursuit and found her weeping at the nearby stables. He slowly approached her while thinking of a way to comfort the girl. "Hello there," he began to speak, catching the girl by surprise. "N-no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I saw what happened there earlier. Are you okay?" he asked as the girl wiped the tears from her face and tried her best to stop herself from crying.

"I'm fine, t-thank you for asking," she responded weakly. "I'm sorry that you had to see me like this. I'm usually a more cheerful person, I promise you, but happiness is hard to find nowadays. My name is Coraline, Coraline Appleway." She courteously introduced herself to him by fixing herself up and curtsying.

"Godric of Rosetown, at your service," He replied, bowing down.

"You have no house to your name?" Coraline asked, curious about his status. "I'm afraid not, milady. I was born without a house to claim me. I was found on a floating crib near the riverbanks of Rosetown, and have since called that place my home. Well, at this time not anymore." He corrected himself, as he forgot his situation for a moment.

"Oh, I see. Well, it's very nice to meet you, Godric," she said as she began to turn toward the inn. "I should get going, I have to tend to the old man. I wish you luck on your journey, and may the Divines guide you." She began to walk away, but Godric reached out and softly grabbed her hand, startling the girl. "Wait," he said. "I want to help him. Can you tell me what happened to him in the first place?"

Coraline took her hand from Godric's grasp and looked at him, wondering whether or not she would need to burden another soul.

"His ailment started back when he joined his second hunt," she answered Godric. A tone of sadness was present in her voice. "It happened when he and his party hunted near the mountain ranges. They were looking for beasts but found none that suited their fancy. If I recall correctly, they only found an eerie cavern. A woman's voice called out to them and without hesitation, he said he felt compelled to walk towards the source. A few moments later, he said his entire party along with him were knocked unconscious. The moment he woke up he remembered nothing but felt a stinging pain in his leg. However as he attempted to exit the cavern, he was terrified to see that his fellow hunters were found dead--their bodies mutilated and disfigured. He immediately returned here and swore to exact revenge but never got a chance to do so as the pain turned into a sickness which changed him forever."

Upon hearing her story, a thought passed in Godric's head. He hoped that if the old man had indeed come across the caverns of Araphne, and if he came across the Witch, he might be able to get answers and somehow find a way to cure him.

"Did he say anything about where this cavern might be found?" Godric asked. "He once warned us about going to the foot of the mountain range past the ancient city of Stagvalley, where the animals are scarce."

Godric thanked her. "I see. Do you have any horses that you could spare? I have money," he asked. "Surely you do not plan on entering the caverns?" Coraline asked, concerned that she might have already sent Godric to his death. "Rest easy, Coraline. My true destination is still very far, and I require a companion." He lied, as he had full intention of entering the caverns. He wanted to hide his real intention as to why he was here and spare her the details of his past.

"Well... I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I gave you Cloud," Coraline responded. "He is one of our fastest and strongest horses, however, we have had trouble in finding someone who can tame him. I have a feeling though that you might be able to." She said as she touched her hair.

Coraline asked Godric to follow him to the other side of the stables where they found a white horse with streaks of black lines across his body. Godric glanced at the horse using his mana-imbued vision and saw the horse radiated with life. "Thank you, Coraline." He approached Cloud, and the animal responded aggressively, almost as if to say it did not like being mounted again.

"Easy now, boy..." Godric carefully approached the horse this time and was able to cup his hands on the horse's head. He looked into Cloud's eyes and saw a fiery passion but also a tinge of sadness.

"This horse... he had a rider before, didn't he?" Coraline quietly nodded to confirm Godric's suspicions.

"He did. This horse belonged to the old man's son who died five autumns ago. He was the only one bold enough to enter the caverns as he wanted to find a cure for his father, but he never returned," she said, sighing. "The old man waited and waited, but eventually accepted the truth. I was but a child back then, yet I still remember the old man weeping in his room almost every night, his cries drowning out the noise of the Whiteflower's usual singing and dancing. The others you saw back there were his son's companions, but they refused to join in on the search. After knowing what had happened, I do not know whether it was out of guilt or shame, but they eventually took on the mantle in finding the cure for the old man."

"Where do you fit in all of this?" Godric asked her.

"The old man saved my father's life twenty-five autumns ago, in the last hunt. I would not be here in the first place if it wasn't for his bravery. He keeps telling me that I owe him nothing, but I do," Coraline answered. "Eventually, I came to love the Whiteflower and its people so I decided to work under him instead. The old man was honored, and my family had no quarrels about it whatsoever--Father even visits the inn from time to time as well. It seems that the old man even treats me like his granddaughter." She began to tear up again, but quickly stopped herself from doing so.

Godric looked at Cloud and calmed him down. He opened the gate to let the horse out and patted the horse. "Easy boy... I might not have the bravery of your former rider, but it would be an honor if you would accompany me on this journey." The horse seemed to understand him, and in the following moment, Godric had mounted the horse successfully.

"I knew you could do it. I think he likes you already," Coraline smiled seeing Cloud having a rider again. Godric approached her and took out fifty gold coins from his pouch. "I know it's not much." He said, which made the girl laugh.

"This is already twice the amount for a horse. Surely you jest." She proclaimed.

"I'm being serious," He then took out another ten gold coins and handed them to her, softly. "This is for the old man. If you can, send a rider out to Rosetown. Buy extracts of the Damali flower, and pour it in his drink. Hopefully, it will help null the pain and make it easier for him to sleep." Godric instructed her as he turned in the opposite direction. "We'll be off now. Goodbye, Coraline Applewood." With a kick of his foot, he signaled Cloud to move, and the two took off as quick as lightning.

"Wait, Godric!" Coraline shouted with all her might as she attempted to run after them. "That might be impossible!" She cried out, but the two were already far off in the distance, with only the autumn breeze left to accompany the girl.