Post by Merla, the Daughter of Summer on Mar 7, 2020 17:47:46 GMT
Care to listen to this thread as a podcast?
Follow Tome of Tales on Spotify to listen to this and other write-ups written and read by me.
Follow Tome of Tales on Spotify to listen to this and other write-ups written and read by me.
The children in the Refuge were no less chaotic today than they were any other day. Bren’s kidnapping and return had changed the atmosphere though and Sheryl felt it when she walked in early that morning as they were gathered for breakfast. She saw how each of them were watching out for each other, in tighter knit groups, and in a way Sheryl was glad to see it. Allenby’s ever watchful gaze was missing that morning though and Sheryl wondered where he could be. The boy himself seemed to have recovered from the ordeal for the most part.
She had not heard about what happened until after Kruxeral had left to return to the Summer Court. There was something about the whole incident that had made her throat close up in half-remembered fear – (...please...don’t leave me alone in the dark...) – but her mind would not dwell on it. Bren was safe, all of the children were safe.
Sheryl’s had come early in the day because she planned to make her way down to Port Ffirst to meet up with her friend Arkadius that evening. She had briefly thought about sending him a message but she wanted to surprise him. Plus, and maybe this was the more honest reason, she wanted to catch him unawares – people tend to tell the truth more often when they’re unprepared.
“See you later Vaalea!” Sheryl calls as she rounds the corner preparing to leave. The silent goliath woman jumps at the cheeriness in Sheryl’s voice and it makes her pause, her half raised hand stopping mid-wave. “Vaalea?” she asks, coming up to her. She sees the young woman is visibly distressed. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Vaalea glances at Sheryl and her mouth turns down as she pinches her lips together.
“Please, if there’s something I can do to help, tell me,” Sheryl says, resting her small hand on Vaalea’s giant forearm.
Vaalea is silent. This is not unusual for her as she hardly ever speaks, by choice. She looks at Sheryl for a moment and then produces a sheet of parchment. It is a communique, short and to the point. Sheryl reads it over quickly, brows furrowed. She has to read it two more times to believe what is written there.
She looks up at Vaalea. She wants to say something but words aren’t enough for this moment. She sees the uncertainty, the vulnerability on the goliath’s face and knows she has to be the strong one this time.
Sheryl hands back the parchment, holding Vaalea’s gaze. There are no tears in her eyes, only a light, a spark of strength she hopes to convey to the young woman. Vaalea closes her eyes and nods once in understanding.
“I’ll be back soon,” Sheryl says, one last gentle squeeze to the young woman’s arm. She turns and leaves Thia’s Refuge, making her way across town. Turns out there’s one more stop she must make before she travels to the coast. Her feet move at a brisk pace, just shy of a run.
There’s never enough time.
Sheryl’s never been to the Order of the Crimson Fists compound. It’s walls are tall, imposing. Not the scariest place she has seen. What is frightening is how on edge the guards are as she approaches. They eye her warily so she holds her hands up in the universal gesture of nonthreatening.
“Hello there. My name is Sheryl,” she says with a warm smile. “Is Baine around? I’d like to speak to him if I could.”
The two guards glance at each other briefly before the one on the left says, “Sorry miss, but no one’s allowed in the compound right now. Orders.”
Sheryl lowers her hands and nods. “I… understand.” The one that spoke gives her a look. She starts to reach for her satchel and they both reach for their weapons. “Peace, please. If Baine isn’t available I would like to leave a note for him. May I?”
They look at each other again, then back to Sheryl and the one on the left nods. Sheryl reaches into her bag and produces an envelope, sealed with a harp and butterfly wax seal.
The fae-bard hesitates after handing over her note, looking between the two guards. “Varis is not gone,” she says to the two of them. “I know it may seem hopeless, but you must keep the light alive. He would want that.” She gives them both a heartfelt look, turns and starts on her journey to Port Ffirst.
Sheryl travels as swiftly as she can. There’s so much she wants to do with the time she has left. She hopes she can get to it all before her time is up.
The sun is casting shadows
An afternoon is fading
I ask, but no one knows
The answer to the question
My life is like an island
Where does this ocean go?