Chapter 4

Meetings

It took almost everything in Raynn to not vomit over the edge of the carriage. She wasn't sure exactly what had gotten her ill, but it was becoming abundantly clear she needed medicine or she'd likely parish.

But her mind raced, her forehead dripping with sweat as she pondered how she'd gather the money to even afford such things. She had gotten herself a good gig, but it wasn't nearly enough to compensate for the prices most merchants asked for.

It seemed there was a drought in Everdale, or the Eastern Province of Hyvak. A drought for just about anything you could imagine. Wine, thread, wheat, and of course, medicine. The only thing there was an abundance of was fish. But most people were growing increasingly tired of it.

“Just please not on my dress, dear.” Jasra turned her nose as she looked away. Her friend coughed, forcing back a gag of her own. The young girl pushed away her long blonde hair, which were accompanied by emerald green eyes. Her human attributes really stuck out to Raynn in ways she couldn't explain. It was a beauty that was rather unique to the human race.

An elf such as herself had a light, almost golden skin tone, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes. Jasra, having been born East of the Needle, had a blistering white skin tone that matched that of most born in the Drench-Gulf.

“I’d never dream of it.” Raynn grabbed her canteen and guzzled down the remaining water. They were only a few miles out from the small town of Fernwrath, and figured she’d manage the rest of the trip. Besides, she could always steal a bit of Jasras, as it was Raynns carriage she was riding in anyway.

"Are we almost home? It's going to rain soon." Jasra looked up through the trees, clouds clustering into heaping masses of gray and black. It was going to be an ugly storm, no doubt. Not the kind you cozy up to the fire with, but hide in the center of your house from. Cracks of thunder could be heard bouncing off the mountains only a few miles away. Raynn didn't need more convincing to hurry her pace.

"I need to ask a favor of you, Jasra." Raynn said suddenly, sliding the back of her hand across her dampened head. Luckily she hadn't felt feverish, yet, as it would've made navigation much harder. Her friend turned to her, green eyes glowing despite the dimness that surrounded them.

"Yes?" She perked.

"I need some coin, so you might see me tomorrow, not within a wooden box." Raynn tried to chuckle, but the seriousness of it was too thick to elude dismay. Her friend couldn't help but frown, not at her request, but at the implications.

"Of course. I'm sure I can finagle some from my father. Hyvale knows he has enough rattling around in his baggy pockets." She turned her nose up, raindrops falling across her smooth cheeks. "We have our dinner soon, anyhow. Perhaps I could convince him to give me some coin for a proper dress. He always seems to give in when it pertains to my beauty." Jasra smiled, running her fingers along her silken dress.

"Why is that?" Raynn managed between coughs. A metallic taste stung the back of her throat, but she kept that to herself.

"He has always been rather delicate with my self-esteem. I guess my mother suffered from it." Jasras smile faded as she mentioned her mother, who had passed away only four years ago. It was a wound still in need of healing. Suddenly, thunder clapped within what felt like an inch of them and the sadness was sapped from them both.

"In any case, I appreciate it. I hate to be a beggar but it's just been rough lately." Raynn reached down and comforted the horses as best she could, though their unease wasn't so simply swayed. They neighed anxiously, kicking up dirt and quickening their pace down the beaten path.

"You seldom ask for handouts…I can provide with confidence you don't intend to abuse our relationship." Jasras trust in their friendship brought an ache to Raynns heart. It was something she hadn't felt for the longest time until she'd met her friend. It was a feeling that had been stripped away from her. Killed from her.

The carriage rolled over a particularly stubborn rock, tossing their shoulders together for a brief moment. Their now annual trip to Brightrock had started to turn more and more dangerous. It was their third year doing so, and each year so far had its own list of complications.

The first year, they had encountered a pack of Roncks that refused to leave the road. And could only be persuaded once an oblivious deer ran by. The second year a drought had seemed to strike Brightrock just at their arrival. Now, this year, there were rumors of green monsters living beneath the city, taking animals and stealing arbitrary items from peoples homes.

Of course, these rumors shook Jasra to her very core. But Raynn was not likely to fall victim to such dramatic tales as she. Despite it, Raynn made the trip quicker than she usually did just to ease the young girl's anxiety.

She knew Jasra didn't get away from home much, which was the very reason why she insisted she join Raynn on her yearly expeditions to Brightrock. She often complained about being inexperienced, but regal and eager to explore. It was clear her life of pampering was beginning to turn dull. Raynn admired her yearning for change rather than sulking in misery.

"I wonder if it'll be enough." Raynn puzzled. The two both turned to look into their carriage. In the far back was a trunk filled to the brim with fabrics and cloth. Ones that places like Fernwrath and Whalerot seldom carried. The red and blue fabrics oozed out of the trunk, begging to be tailored into a fine dress.

"You spent all your savings on this, it better be. Considering you have the nerve to ask for help now." Jasra teased, flashing Raynn a grin.

"I plan to turn a profit, I'm just not sure I can do it before I'm dead." Raynn shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. The human chuckled, shaking her head.

“I was only kidding, darling. We wouldn’t want these to be the last dresses you make.” Jasra always had a way of comforting Raynn, often in ways she never knew she needed.

The two rode the rest of the way to Fernwrath is relative silence. Enjoying the sounds of birds chirping angrily at the coming rain.

Raynn steered toward the house at the top of the hill that overlooked most of Fernwrath. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and often was the topic of discussion for newcomers and travelers alike. Its massive presence spoke volumes over even the fortress that rested in the north-west side of the village.

It was known as Moonrock, and had been the crowing gem of Fernwraths history for well over two centuries. The legends had it that during the Green War, it was used as a place for the injured and homeless to seek refuge in. As even though the house acted as a beacon, the Jorinian seemed to want nothing to do with it.

Now, though, it was the home of Captain Damonor of the Mollusk. That being the largest and most prominent trading ship in all the Drench-Gulf. He also happened to be Jasras father.

“Do you think he’ll be upset?” Raynn asked, bringing the carriage to a stop just at the foot of the hill. Jasra stopped grabbing her things, and looked at her friend softly. She could tell from the bags under her eyes, and the strain in her voice that her issues were not only physical.

“Quite frankly, I’m sure if I ask he will be more than willing to help you out. No need for petty white lies.” Jasra smiled weakly, her gaze thoughtful. She certainly didn’t like lying to her father, but he already had a strange prejudice toward Raynn. And Raynn felt she knew why. Though, she hoped she was wrong.

“I don’t want to risk your father becoming upset at you. That’s the last thing I need on my conscious.” Raynn held back bitter words, her train of thought broken as rain began to sprinkle over them in full. Luckily, there was a cover over the carriage, and her fabrics would remain untainted.

“Just, let me handle it. I’ll come by your cabin tomorrow morning and inform you of my efforts.” Jasra leaned over and hugged Raynn, and with surprising strength too. Accepting the embrace, the elf rested her face on her shoulder. And for a brief moment, it reminded her of her sisters, or, at least one of them. “Get some rest, I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.” Jasra assured her, gripping her by the face and pulling their eyes to look at one another. Raynn nodded with a smile, unsure of what to say.

The elf watched as her friend jogged up the hill with her coat over her head, hurrying inside Moonrock. Raynn found herself sitting there for a long while, letting the rain fall over her as she wondered what exactly Jasra was doing. Probably drying off, changing clothing or talking to her father.

She caught herself daydreaming, and shook her head. Being weird, once again. Not for any particularly obsessive reason. At least, she didn’t feel so. She did it with almost everyone, imagining them in their natural environments. Outside the realm of her perception. Raynn sometimes wondered if they would simply vanished when out of view, only to reappear when she came within their vicinity.

“Move it, lady.” She finally told herself, jostling her horses awake and continuing down the road. Her cabin was only a few minutes ride away from Moonrock, hidden in a trail just beyond the reaches of Pigbridge, the main residential district of Fernwrath.

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The road muddied quickly as the rain picked up. Wind stirred the trees surrounding her, blowing orange and red leaves in her path. Their colors didn’t shine as much as they did in the sun, naturally. It made her feel drab, more than the rain itself did. After all, she respected the rain, understood its importance. And the same for the sun despite its blistering heat in the summer.

As everything seemed to brace and coil in wake of the storm, Raynn hurried her pace at last. Reaching her cabin just in time for the first real crack of thunder, the kind that makes one think the sky is opening up.

Her horses shouted in protest as she led them into the stables beside her cabin. The rain hit the wooden roof hard, a waterfall of runoff sealing her inside one of the stalls. She sighed, knowing that she’d be a whole different realm of wet once she stepped through it. With a defeated shrug, Raynn ran through the runoff and toward the cabin door.

Throwing it open she quickly slammed the door shut behind her and locked it tight. Her senses had been overwhelmed, her nerves getting the best of her as the rain pounded above her. Letting out a breath that had been held for far too long, she palmed her face and wiped away most of the water.

Her cabin was relatively small, with a small living room area with a fireplace, a kitchen crammed into the far left corner, and her bed in the far right.

The fireplace was empty, just a pile of gray waiting to be rekindled with fresh wood. Hastily, she built a pyre of sticks and cut logs and lit the kindle. Blowing gently into the flame, she laid it atop the ash and let it bring the pyre to life.

The room was quickly consumed with a deep orange warmth, where she laid flat on the ground and simply breathed. Soon the heat soaked her to the bone, though her clothing was still rather wet.

Eventually, Raynn lifted herself up off the ground, and began to undress. Laying her wet apparel on a rack, she kept it close to the fire to let it properly dry.

Stumbling over to the bed, she laid down, naked and exhausted. Grumbling into her pillow, she mustered the strength to put on her night gown. It wasn’t much, but it felt nice against her skin, and most notably: she’d made it herself.

Her stomach churned with hunger, growling at her with utter indifference to her condition. Despite her aching body, she manged to slog over to the kitchen and prepare herself a stew with dried meat. It was more than enough to fill her belly, and excitement rose in her chest as she set it over the fire to warm the stew.

As she waited for it to be done, she sat at her table and watched the storm grow outside the window. The rain was almost so heavy that the nothing could be seen outside, as if it had turned to a milky window, or stained glass.

A heaviness wore Raynn down, her eyes flickering as thoughts pounded against her skull. It was no longer the aching she’d felt with Jasra, or the aching of her legs, but a deeply upsetting one instead.

One might inquire what brings someone to such a place. A place of loneliness and degradation. Of emptiness and dismay. For what reasons, despite the obvious? It had been twenty years, but she could never sit in a silent room alone without this feeling eventually catching up to her. Grabbing her by the legs and dragging her into its embrace. So cold, and callous. No amount of joy could deflect its sting.

Suddenly, there was a jarring knock at her door. The silence, and the subsequent feelings that it entailed, vanished, replaced with stark fear. She leaned forward, trying to see out the window if a carriage had strolled by. But it appeared whoever was at the door had been walking on foot.

Frantically she spanned the room in an instant, shoving her hand under her pillow and brandishing a dagger. It had seen very little action, no less, the inside of a living being. Nor had she ever been the reason a blade had been within a living being. Or in other words, she’d never stabbed a damn thing in her life.

“Raynn!” A voice called. It was vaguely familiar, but the downpours intensity made it hard to discern. Whoever it was, clearly knew who she was. And she had revealed herself to very few people over the last two decades.

Biting her lip, she slowly approached the door. Whoever it was knocked once again, and in a surprisingly calm nature for someone trapped in a storm.

The elf debated opening up, as for many reasons it could be a terrible mistake. But she also would hate to be the reason someone died from getting terribly lost in the forest during a storm. Grunting to herself, she laid her head against the door and waited for one more knock. Then she would let them in.

Sure enough, they knocked.

“Raynn, please, it’s Rod!” The voice said, now sounding much more clear. Raynn opened the door, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Why didn’t you just say that? Get in, you idiot.” She grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him inside. His long black hair was drenched, along with his shabby clothing.

“I didn’t know if shouting my name out was the smartest idea.” Rod said, stepping further into the room toward the fire. Raynn became aware of her attire, and covered her chest as the fabric was someone see-through.

“It’s pouring down rain, Rod. Even I could barely hear you, no less a passerby.” Raynn sighed, taking a seat at the edge of her bed, the room at grown ever so slightly colder after opening the door. She waited eagerly for the chills to subside. She slid the dagger just out of sight beneath her blanket, still gripping its handle tight.

Rod paced in front of the fire, licking his lips. Raynn didn’t much like the animalistic look in his eyes. Like the look a rabbit gives when it realizes a wolf has it in its sights.

“I can’t be too careful. Not today.” Itching his arm, he finally looks at Raynn, his eyes tensing even more.

“Sure. Sure.” Raynn nodded, knowing it was probably best not to challenge him. “Why are you back so early? I thought you’d at least be a few more days. A week even.” She added, swallowing whatever was caught in her throat. Fear perhaps. The mylian shifted on his feet, chewing on his lip.

“Things aren’t great, Raynn. There’s this group that attacked the city, apparently around the same time as Tavernkeep. They are demanding some relic that supposedly one of the Noble Houses had hidden away for the past few centuries.” His frantic behavior still didn’t make much sense, and Raynn failed to see the relevance of it all. But she knew better than to interrupt Rod during his debriefs.

“Your family, Raynn. House Mirthorn. Or at least, the manor which your family occupied.” A weight seemed to be lifted from his chest, and Rod sat himself down on the chair by the fire. His body deflates against it.

Meanwhile it felt as if an icicle had been jammed into Raynns spine, her whole body frozen to its very center. Just hearing that name, Mirthorn, made her want to scream. The memories that flooded her was enough to catch her breath.

“I don’t know why they think your family had the relic, whatever it may be, but they were willing to hold an entire street hostage in order to get it. But the Torches slayed them long before they could breach the manor.” Rod finished in a much more flat, dreary tone, as if defeated by some great force. For a moment it seemed the man had fallen asleep, falling utterly silent as he stared in one place.

“Is that it?” Raynn asked before clearing her throat with a cough. Rod was shaken from his trance and looked to the elf with a start.

“No, of course not. I am back earlier because of a message.” He paused, blinking absently. He was falling in on himself, reclusive like Raynn used to be when attending events she hated.

“A message? From whom?” Raynn squinted, her hold on her dagger was so hard her hand began to shake involuntarily. The cabin seemed to creak anxiously as a long silence was held between them.

Then, without any prior warning or signs, Rod lunged from his seat. His hands outstretched, desperate to grab anything. Raynn screamed out in horror, and instinctively kicked out with her legs. This proved to be the wrong choice as Rod easily grabbed her and dragged her off the bed, her back hitting the floor hard.

Her dagger was thrown from her hand as the air was knocked from her lungs. It clatters to the ground, and before she could take a breath in, fingers curled around her throat.

Rod's shadow was casted over her as he sat on her stomach, pressing down on her neck and squeezing with all his might. The taste of blood bubbled up in her mouth, but was the least of her worries.

Raynns hand slid blindly along the floor, but found no purchase, the dagger just out of reach. With some hidden strength she managed to jerk up and pivot her body ever so slightly to the right. Though coming back down brought a wave of added pain to her throat.

But her attempt bore fruit, as she felt the cool touch of her blade's handle, and quickly slid it into her palm. With little hesitation, she stabbed at her attacker's side. The feeling of blade piercing skin was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, but regardless, she simply kept stabbing. It only took three or so before the pain overwhelmed Rod, and he was forced to fall back in agony.

Wailing in pain, blood began to pour out over the carpet and onto the wooden floor. Raynn struggled to breath as her throat attempted to recover from the assault, each breath dragging through her like a ball of thorns.

Rod grabbed at his wound, squirming around on the ground and gasping for air much like her. Rolling over, she pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to her attacker.

“What the hell-!” She shouted, but was cut off as Rod's foot kicked out and hit her straight in the knee. Having not expected it, she quickly buckled onto the chair before her, dropping her dagger once again. Though this time she immediately reached for it, only to be grabbed from the side and lifted into the air.

Rod slammed her back down onto the table, the legs somehow not buckling in on themselves. The lantern was knocked away, rolling down the table and shattering on the ground. Flaming oil began to spread.

“I’m sorry!” Rod screamed as he began to release punch after punch, hitting Raynn repeatedly in the stomach and chest. For someone trying to kill her, he was doing an awful job. Raynn reached out with both hands, taking a few blows before gripping Rod's face and jamming her thumbs into his eyes. She dug into them as one would the soil in search of truffles. Blood oozed around her fingers, and the mylian was quick to spring away, flailing his arms as he screamed in pain.

Raynn shifted her attention to the fire now ever growing in her kitchen, and ran for the door. Swinging it open, she reached down beside the stairs where she knew several buckets would be. Just as she’d thought, the rain had filled them to their tops, to which she immediately swung one of them through the door and onto the fire. The wave of water extinguished the fire in an instant, smoke fizzling up toward the ceiling.

Rod charged forward, slipping on the water along the way and smashing into her counter-top. Raynn grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away, throwing him into the center of the room onto his back. He was almost completely powerless, his hands waving around uselessly as his eyes were crushed in.

The elf grabbed her dagger and stepped over the mylian. Reaching down, she held the blade before his throat. The feeling was palpable. Fear and a hum of excitement drumming in her finger tips. If she wanted, she could end the man's life.

“Who was it, Rod? Who sent you?” Raynn shouted, her long wavy hair soaked once again, dangling before his face. Drops of water fell and mixed with his already bloodied cheeks. He looked disgusted, utterly distraught at himself over all else.

“Three...” He gasped, trying to find the words as he fought off waves of pain. “The Three...”

“The Three Generals?” Raynn pulled Rod up by the collar, the knife breaching the skin ever so slightly. She never thought she had this sort of rage in her before, but it seemed almost being killed brought out a side of her she hadn’t known existed. And yet, it came effortlessly.

“Jevsarra...knows.” Rod muttered before growing pale, his body ceasing to shake all at once. Growing limp, Raynn could no longer hold his weight, and let his head hit the floor. It rolled to the side, his body motionless. She’d killed him.

The pain began to catch up to her, several of her ribs no doubt broken. Keeling away, she sprawled out on the ground just beside her bed. Only this time, the dagger stayed firm in her grasp.