“I have received a few requests from the village of Deilen,” King Blayney regarded his daughter not in the typical audience chamber like the last two times he imposed his mission onto her, but in a private family room reserved solely for the three’s use. The last time Arwen herself was in the small but luxurious room was after her father had formalised the treaty with Helvetia- a cause for celebration. Now, she felt ambiguous. For one, she had settled into the casual routine of her life and felt like she was finally getting somewhere with her horse riding. Another was that there wasn’t much adventure in travelling to Deilen, for it took an almost identical route to Alaru, save for a minor diversion east instead of north through Coed’s Forest. However, she did want to explore a village she had never visited before in her life, and looked forward to the prospect of the fairy-tale like greenery of Continent Garden. “They are in need of some supplies from the Kingdom, and a few specialists for supporting the troops still stationed there.”
Arwen frowned, failing to see how this involved her. “This seems fairly routine, father.”
King Blayney nodded animatedly. “Exactly. After seeing the state of your retinue after your travels to Ffin, something routine should be in order for you. Additionally, many of our forces are stretched thin dealing with the reclamation of our towns and villages from the Helvetians, and you are the only expendable protective detail I can spare.”
“Why would a merchant and a few people need protecting?” merchants and citizens travelled Tristwch all the time, especially now that there was a lack of fear from Helvetian forces.
King Blayney explained without irritation. “The supplies that will be transported to Deilen include weapons and medicines, among other valuable items. Should, say, thieves attempt to steal from the merchants, it could spell for a disastrous situation for us in the future. Additionally, a young woman from the King’s Tailors will join you in order to teach the seamstress at Deilen to repair our men’s uniforms along with a couple of men from our weaponsmith who will set up a forge there.”
“And all we’re doing is making sure nothing happens to them?” Arwen clarified.
“Yes,” her father confirmed. “I imagine you will need to split responsibilities between you upon your arrival at Deilen. The merchant will want someone to watch over him as he unloads, I imagine our woman from the King’s Tailors would value company in an unfamiliar place surrounded by strangers, too, whilst the blacksmiths would no doubt like some help for the week or so you will stay.”
“Alright,” Arwen nodded slowly to herself. “When do we start?”
“I will send missive to Eryk, Owen, Gwyn, and Cai. I will also give notice to the merchants, tailor, and blacksmiths to meet you at the Kingdom’s east gate in three days’ time. Until then, I will leave the preparations to you.”
Or, more accurate, King Blayney will leave the preparations to Cai and Gwyn, who had the most experience in planning these sorts of trips. However, this time, Arwen found herself somewhat tempted to help. Despite their disastrous run-in with the vampire in the Blossoms, Arwen had apparently planned the trip out quite well, according to Gwyn. She had also grown somewhat close to Cai through their private training, and Gwyn had warmed her with his many war-stories and his soothingly calm demeanour.
Perhaps, she wondered in mock horror, she was going soft?
-cut-
“Shite weather, isn’t it?”
Arwen looked up to the merchant, a man named Wil Glines, who resembled a giant with his six-foot four height and broadness that rivalled one of those deranged Hopys creatures she so desperately hoped they wouldn’t encounter again. At a much shorter five-foot four, the man towered over the Princess and would’ve casted her in his shadow if it wasn’t currently pouring with rain from the grey and angry clouds above. “I-it is,” she agreed warily. The merchant didn’t appear to care he was talking to the Princess of Cyfoeth, which unnerved her to the point she did not fancy interacting much with such an imposing figure.
Rainwater ran in rivulets down her face, matting her hair onto the back on her neck and soaking her body beneath her drenched uniform. There was thankfully a spare uniform for her in the merchant’s horse and a tarp-covered carriage, which had enough space to hold the travel supplies necessary for their journey, saving any of them from having to carry anything but their weapons. Of which, Arwen kept her trusty dagger and Light Gem, both placed in their usual spots.
Gwyn was the first to arrive to the pair, embracing Arwen in a soft hug and exchanging smiles. “I really hoped it wouldn’t rain when I saw those clouds last night.”
“I think it will get worse,” Arwen admitted with an awkward grin. “I can sense a lightning storm around a day away. It is agitating my magic a fair bit.”
Indeed, lightning mages thrived in lightning storms, for the abundance of their natural meta-element charging the air allowed for more potent power and devastation. However, for Arwen’s inexperienced control, it also meant a more tenuous hold on her magic. Only the most experienced of lightning mages could summon a lightning storm, but were able to with relatively terrifying speed once mastered. It said a lot that her father could, though nowadays it would render him too tired to do anything else. She had seen him do it a few years back during a particularly nasty drought, and the storm and its concurrent rain saved many livelihoods. To this day, only Arwen and her mother knew of the secret saviour behind the ‘miracle rains’.
“You’re not going to zap us all on accident, right?” a genuine question, one that raised the eyebrows of the giant besides them, but Gwyn’s teasing smile belied its seriousness. “Do we have to worry?”
“I can zap you now, if you want,” Arwen retorted good-naturedly. Though Gwyn’s ribs were still sore, he insisted on being in a good enough condition to travel with them. Arwen had worried the blow to his pride during that horrible day had irrevocably hit the Sentinel’s confidence, but she should’ve known from his memories that he’d do what he always did in strife- pushed through it.
“Where’s Cai?” Gwyn made a show of looking around. “He’s usually here before me.”
Arwen nodded towards the castle, spraying a wad of water from her soaked hair. “He is getting the blacksmiths, I think.”
Owen showed up next, looking animated in the horrid rain and dull lighting. “Hello everyone,” he nodded to Arwen, “you look like a drenched cat.”
“You are seriously trying to make the cat insult stick?” Arwen pulled a face. Her interactions with Owen lately revealed what she’d expected, a quiet and reserved man incapable of giving away anything other than vague sentiments of his life, but she’d also unveiled a slight impression of sadness the man seemed intent on trying to hide. She wondered if it related to his girlfriend, which he must have sorely been missing at this point. He had let slip once that it had been a couple years since he last saw her, much to Arwen’s surprise.
“You’re just too short,” Owen shrugged, eliciting a half-serious scowl from the Princess, “I bet this weather’s very uncomfortable for someone like you.”
“I won’t run inside like a house-cat,” Arwen saw where his analogy was going. “And, you seem to be incredibly happy today,” Owen could be teasing to the point of flirtatiousness around women he was comfortable with, but Arwen was comfortable reciprocating after confirming it was just a personality quirk of his and not any form of interest.
“I love the rain,” Owen’s gaze turned skyward. “It’s just so refreshing.”
“I bet that last part was what your girlfriend said when you left,” Gwyn barbed, nudging the archer in the side.
Owen laughed sarcastically and raised his brows. “I think you’re looking for a jab to the ribs, my friend.”
Gwyn immediately covered his midsection with his arms. “Yeah, maybe later.”
Next up, Eryk strode to the group, though he had his trademark trench coat wrapped partially around a companion who Arwen soon recognised as the vampire-girl from the King’s Tailors, Rhiannon. “Ah,” she pieced two and two together. Eryk had struck it lucky being able to travel with his girlfriend.
Rhiannon’s long red hair was unlike Elain’s, and her youth offset the dissimilarity even further, but a flash of Elain’s crazed expression made Arwen want to back away as the vampire girl approached. “Good day,” Eryk greeted. “Bad weather, however.”
Arwen glanced at Rhiannon, who seemed to perpetually appear in a state of awe, and then back at Eryk. “Is she our tailor?”
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“Yes,” Eryk nodded. “Rhi has to teach the seamstress how to repair the soldier’s uniforms.”
“And I want to see if she can make blankets,” Rhiannon added in her supplicating voice.
“Blankets?” Gwyn cocked his head with an expression of incredulity.
“Yes, thin blankets,” Rhiannon nodded. “They have all sorts of applications, even in the summer. For example, a soldier suffering from heatstroke can recover faster if they are put in shade with a blanket atop of them. They can also act as padding for outdoor sleeping, and are light and easily rolled into smaller shapes.”
Gwyn seemed unsure whether to be impressed or concerned. “Blankets… lots of uses.”
“I hope you won’t be too obnoxious together,” Arwen commented, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could even think.
Rhiannon frowned at that, but Eryk laughed lightly. “We will behave, Princess, you have my word.”
Cai arrived with two muscular men shortly after, whose arms rivalled the width of Arwen’s head. The blacksmiths were a juxtaposing pair, with one having an energetic but laidback voice, waving animatedly at the ‘new friends’, whilst his companion stood stiffly with a natural frown. They wasted little time in rummaging through the carriage to check if all of their gear was there. “I double-checked the list you gave me.” The merchant huffed, slightly offended they would think him unprepared.
The grumpy blacksmith, whose name was Cadwy Griff, made some sort of grunting noise and ignored him, whilst the livelier of the two, Dylan Seff, turned and smiled disarmingly. “Aww, it’s good, we trust you!” he insisted, “but we’ve learnt from experience to never be too careful. You know, we had to move forges to another location in the Kingdom, and man! I cannot even begin to tell you how many tools we lost during the move. It pays to be safe!”
The merchant crossed his arms and sighed, but appeared satisfied with the answer. He extended an arm towards the two blacksmiths. “I’m Wil.”
“I had a granddad named Wil,” Dylan shook his hand. “He always seemed to be on something,” his face turned amusingly contemplative, “good man, though.”
“I assure you I’m not on drugs,” Wil said.
Dylan smiled as he turned back to aid his friend. “Ahh, I know that! Trust me, I should know.”
Once everyone was suitably miserable in the rain and the blacksmiths had confirmed their equipment was safely stowed on the carriage, the lot set out. The poor horse had been standing still in the rain this whole time, but at least it seemed happier now that it was moving. The merchant, Wil, had offered a ride atop the horse, named ‘Glimmer’, for Arwen, but she declined, preferring to chat with Cai.
Arwen and Cai took the lead, followed closely by the horse that was either following them out of instinct or simply knew where it was going. Wil walked alongside his steed, followed by the two blacksmiths who was forming an unusual but highly amusing dynamic. Dylan talked animatedly and was gesticulating wildly to his partner, Cadwy, who walked staring straight ahead and appeared indifferent to his fellow smith’s ramblings, but Dylan was hardly fazed by the lack of social feedback and kept going strong.
Just behind the horse and carriage, Eryk walked with Rhiannon, the two forming a cute pair as they snuggled close to each other whilst walking, whilst behind them, Owen and Gwyn formed the rear, talking casually amongst themselves.
The conversation would’ve normally carried to Arwen’s ears, but the heavy rain was obscuring the sounds around them. And worse still, while they were all wet through, the weather remained hot and humid, painting an incredibly odd sensation that was typical of Cyfoeth’s tropical summer storms.
Despite the poor conditions, many workers hurried almost excitedly around the fields to the South, harvesting the last vestiges of the spring crops before cutting down the high stalks and branched bushes in preparation for another planting. As for the imposing peaks of Loel’s Wrath, Arwen unfortunately could only see around a third the way up, for the dark swirling clouds completely covered anything higher.
Once at their destination for the night, by the Veins of Wedi, Wil let Glimmer loose in the northern fields after allowing it a bucket full of water, assuring the concerned group that it was well-looked after enough to return to him no matter how bountiful the Rolling Fields may seem to it.
Wil then made himself highly useful by clearing enough space in his carriage to tightly squeeze two bodies inside, allowing both blacksmiths to sleep within its tarped shelter. Another five could fit underneath the carriage, however, two would have to tough it out in the rain.
“You love the wet weather,” Arwen sadistically volunteered Owen. “So, I think you will be suitable for outdoor sleeping.”
Owen gave her a nasty glare for that, but otherwise got over it quickly, muttering a promise for revenge in some distant future. Cai volunteered himself next, saying that he could endure the weather without much bother. And so, it was settled.
The night was one of the worst for Arwen. The heat was stifling, and the end of her sleeping bag stuck out just enough for the constant thrumming sensation of water hitting it above her feet to distract her. Furthermore, the merchant, Wil, snored.
“I will extinguish the light from thy soul, foul beast!”
Bran once again invaded her dreams, leeching from a cherished memory of Arwen’s. He stood tall in plain brown clothing, holding a stick as a mock sword and holding it to the air. “The brave Sage, Bran, will fight all evil if it even gives me but a slim chance to rescue my muse!”
Arwen had clapped excitedly, her twelve-year-old self dazzled by the acted declaration of evil-defeating chivalry from the handsome boy.
“My dear damsel,” Bran extended an arm to her, “If I may see you again, it would make all sacrifices worth it in the name of honour!”
Arwen laughed out loud and continued to do so even as Bran powered through his roleplaying. “I will use the blade of Lye’s wrath itself, the Evilslayer!” the stick was thrusted even further into the air, “to slay all that would threaten my love!”
“One day,” Bran’s eyes locked Arwen’s. “I will find you, my beloved muse. And I will rescue you from whatever foul beasts would dare keep you from me!”
And then Arwen awoke the next day, her pleasant dream sullied by the knowledge that they would never see each other ever again.
The rain had stopped at some point during the night, though the intense tingling within Arwen’s soul still signalled at an oncoming lightning storm, so she had every expectation that the rain would commence again. After eating, they traversed the Veins and towards the travel lodge without incident, though a darkening sky signalled a very loud night indeed.
The next morning, the travellers awoke to rain sliding down the roofs of the travel shelter, accompanied by distant rumbles of thunder. Arwen’s skin felt… tingly, and her right arm began to burn again as if reinjured.
As they walked, the Princess tried to hide her cringes when the storm got close enough that she could feel the distant lightning strike at the ground. She could even roughly pinpoint where the strike sites were by instinct, though it would be impossible to do so visually as the retina-searing blasts of light filling the sky always flashed before the ear-assailing thunder reached their ears. The rain pounded heavily on her head, dripping off of her chin, her hair, and her fingers. Cai had been silently watching, unbeknownst to her, but he eventually put a hand on her shoulder and then instantly jumped back in surprise. Arwen’s head snapped towards him. “What’s wrong?”
“Static,” Cai looked at his hand, “I got shocked when I touched you.”
“S-sorry,” Arwen smiled sheepishly. In the distant, the constant ramblings of the blacksmith, Dylan, were just about able to lunge at her ears before being drowned out by the rain and thunder. Arwen normally would’ve found the talkative blacksmith annoying, but she had oddly found herself liking the man.
A flash of blue-white encapsulated the world. Cai waited until the deafening blast of thunder flung itself through the air before talking again. “Are you okay?”
“It’s the lightning storm,” Arwen had to keep her voice raised to be heard over the rain. “I always get… jittery in them.”
“Your eyes keep flashing purple in time with the lightning strikes,” Cai pointed out. “It’s like you are part of the storm.”
Arwen had nothing to say about that, and so kept quiet and continued walking. Unlike the rains of yesterday, the lightning storm had brought with it a sullen cold wind, which sent shivers up her soaked body despite the warm ambient air. The only part of her that was consistently warm were her sore legs, though in comparison to her last trip across Tristwch, they ached far less.
The storm broke about an hour before they stopped, which was just at the mid-point of traversing Continent Garden. The rain eventually lifted and the sky lightened slightly, before dimming into twilight as the obscured sun began to set. The storm had thankfully dispersed the humidity infamous to the Garden, though the sweltering air was not the only thing it had robbed. Unlike last time, where the Garden had been alive and abuzz with the activity of insects, birds of varying colours, and the inane sounds of cicadas which rarely seemed to pause for breath, this time the lush greenery appeared… dead.
The entire of the Garden was still, with nary a single movement in the dead air. No sounds assaulted her ears, no insects crawled around the grass nor did bees buzz around sunflowers. Compared to the last time Arwen had visited, it felt almost unrecognisable. The natural beauty of Continent Garden’s plant life now only added to the eerie vibe the environment resonated.
When Arwen awoke the next day, she felt a lot better. She could barely feel the lightning storm now, which must have been well into Helvetia at this point. A shrill scream had added some drama to the otherwise boring morning when Rhiannon found out that an insect had been sharing her sleeping bag, but aside from that, it was business as usual.
“The last leg to Deilen,” Cai had remarked over breakfast. “We’ll arrive between the late afternoon and the evening.”
“Always my least favourite part of the journey,” Wil seemed to continuously find something to grumble about, but he was more bark than bite. “The sounds of the forest spook Glimmer constantly.”
Glimmer had been remarkable in the storm, Arwen thought, only ever rearing up in panic when a lightning bolt struck close enough to the group that they could see the strike site in the distance. “Ohhh, I can’t wait until we see Deilen!” Dylan stretched and leaned into his partner, much to his annoyance. “What do you think we should do there? Maybe sightsee? See the End’s Ocean?”
Cadwy seemed upset at the suggestions. “We’ll do what we came here to do. And the End’s Ocean is a full day’s trip from Deilen, you know.”
“What if the seamstress dislikes me?” Arwen tuned into Rhiannon’s conversation with her boyfriend. “What if she hates vampires?”
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy your company, Rhi.” Eryk soothed her woes. “You have nothing to fear.”
“I wonder how we’ll get along with their smith?” Dylan was still pestering Cadwy with his incessant talking. “I bet we’re way better than him!”
Cadwy sighed. Arwen watched in amusement. She wondered if Dylan was simply nervous, like the vampire girl. She supposed she should be, too, visiting a village she had never seen before, but she couldn’t really muster up much anticipation. She had managed to read about Deilen in her travel guide, now that there was no rain to damage the thin paper, and while quaint, seemed rather boring. She just hoped there were things for her to do there, especially if there were staying long.