Closing Down Sail – Sheryl, the Fae-Touched – 19.05.2020

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It had been some months since she had last been to the Fey Clearing in the Feythorn Forest, but Merla’s feet remembered the way. They always seemed to be able to find the paths that lead back to the Feywild no matter what. Astra’s presence was a nice addition this time. Merla had mentioned the Clearing in passing recently and her companion seemed interested in it. They had returned from Zot Goran after taking an extra day there, the mission at Ramos Sails Manufacturing having only taken a day to resolve itself.

Climbing over thigh high roots, the trees eventually part to reveal the calm clearing, the ring of stones and mushrooms standing as short sentinels. The small woman pauses for the briefest of moments before stepping over them, the change in air felt instantly on her skin. Astra follows suit and she shakes herself as she steps through, wings puffing out slightly.

“This place does feel like the Summer Lands,” she says, looking around. Tentatively, Astra reaches her wings outwards and is surprised when they do not touch the edge of the clearing, despite a moment before looking like they would have.

Merla moves towards the centre where a rock with a tree growing around it makes a raised, flat surface where she places the basket she had been carrying. She starts to unpack it’s contents absently as she responds.

“When the Giant War was happening I came here often – to centre myself, find strength, to escape. It has been many things to me…” She looks up at the trees and it feels like they are watching her. Out loud she says, “My journey has taken me far from here, but I return bearing food and wine. May light and music ease your bones, so that we may come and go, as it please you.” Merla bows her head. Behind her Astra bows as well, folding one foreleg down slightly to do so.

With that foramility done, Astra comes over and settles down in the soft grass whilst Merla starts serving the food she brought, pouring a glass of feywine for herself and a second in case another visitor may walk into the clearing. Settling down the two start to enjoy their picnic talking about the mission they had returned from a few days ago.

After a while, Astra asks, “How often do you rely on your mind reading abilities?” She delicately eats a peach from Merla’s hand.

“More often than some people may realise, though I do not use it on my friends. It would be a breach of trust.” She goes still. Astra’s grey-blue eyes roam over her mistress before giving her a quizzical look.

“What is troubling you Merla?” Astra asks, reaching out with her muzzle to bump into her bosom. “You have been abnormally quiet these past few days. It isn’t like you.”

It takes the fae-bard a moment to respond as she gathers her thoughts.

“I have been thinking a lot about trust,” she starts quietly. “How many times does it take for someone to prove themselves trustworthy before people stop questioning their motives? Why are there some people who, no matter how much evidence they are shown, no matter how many good things a person may have done, won’t accept what they are told until they see it for themselves? Do words mean nothing to these people?” She shakes her head and looks up to the treetops, watching the trees dance in the breeze. “When I first came here I thought I could be like them. But the more time passes the more I feel like… I’ll always be different. Sometimes it is hard for me to feel like I belong.”

“You have friends that accept you,” Astra counters. ”Markas, Arkadius, BB, Mace, Taz, the fire bird-man-”

“Bones?”

“Yes, him-”

“I wouldn’t say he-”

“Varis.” Merla goes still, a peculiar feeling jolting through her. “He said you have proven yourself a 'Daughter of Daring'. Does that not mean he trusts in who you are by what you have done?” She is silent, unable to answer Astra. The winged unicorn continues. “The others help you when I cannot, and I trust in your belief that they will help keep you safe when I am not there. Do you not trust these people? Do people like the Grandmaster, like Arkadius not accept you for who you are?”

“I do trust them and I know Arkadius accepts me, I just-” Merla exhales in frustration, her emotions twisting around, tying themselves into knots in her stomach. “The Vanguard have infiltrated into so many places and some people have felt the sting of betrayal from their machinations stronger than others, so I understand why people are suspicious. Take Kassandra! Her best friend had been lying to her her whole life. She didn’t believe Arkadius when he told her Torven was going to kill us once he broke the First Seal, that he was with the Vanguard. It took her looking into things herself to finally believe.” Merla thinks back to what Arkadius told her from his brief but disturbingly informative meeting with the ex-Errant Guard. “It makes sense that Raksus is part of the Vanguard when you think about it too. But then… why is Nimbus with them?” Her topaz blue eyes go distant as she thinks and speaks across the bond she shares with Astra. “There are too many ties between the Vanguard and the worshippers of Milil. The Harmonious Order is made up of many paladins and clerics who worship him… Raksus was a priest of the Lord of Songs. Have I been helping the Vanguard by helping the Harmonious Order? Am I just a pawn being used in their game?!”

“Do you feel like you are being manipulated?” Astra’s calm voice cuts through to her. Merla blinks and looks to her companion, the tranquility of the clearing following upon the heels of Astra’s words, breaking the frenzied spell of her thoughts.

“…No,” Merla says after a moment.

“Has the Harmonious Order given you any reason to doubt them and their intentions?” One silvery blue eye scrutinises her.

“No,” the fae-bard says with instinctual certainty.

Astra lifts her head up, shaking out her mane so it glitters in the sun. “Then this uncertainty you are letting consume you is baseless, just like those you were criticising,” she says, the matter clearly settled. “Think of the family we saved instead. I had never flown in such winds before and yet I was like the leaf – one with the wind.” Merla swears she sees Astra’s chest puff out in pride.

The fey-daughter lets out a small chuckle, the tense emotions leaving her. “Your grace and beauty is worthy of your lineage, Astra,” she says, the praise genuine as she reaches out to gently pet her companion’s side. “I do not want to think about what would have happened to them if you were not with me. There will be more tests of our abilities ahead, I’m sure of it. Things are building to a crescendo… ”

The two fall quiet for a while. An early summer wind blows over the treetops but it is warm and calm in the clearing. Merla is lost in her thoughts for a time whilst Astra watches her, waiting.

“We have to be prepared for anything. But you are right Astra, I cannot let uncertainties cloud my judgment. Any form of doubt, any hesitancy could be an opening for the Vanguard to exploit – be it between our allies, or in ourselves.” She gives a small humourless laugh. “People say the fey struggle to tell the difference between good and evil, as if things are clear cut – black or white. Well I say the people who think that are fools. Regulus Chuckhammer was not evil, though he was sewing those Runes of Rending into the sails for the Vanguard, he was not doing so willingly.” She gets up, a different kind of energy building within her, feeding off of the chaotic vibrancy of the Feywild she could feel in the clearing. “He was doing what he had to protect those he loved. That did not mean he was part of the problem. He was a victim.”

She spins around to face Astra, throwing her arms wide, emotions flitting across her face before settling into a wickedly tenacious grin.

“This Daughter of Fey does not see things in such stark contrast, but what I can say for certain is that the Vanguard will not be prepared for us when we come for them. They may think they will be, but we of the Dawnlands are a force to be reckoned with – chaotic, but virtuous, capable and strong.” Merla tilts her head back. The imperial fire topaz in her circlet radiates a light that mirrors the sun in the sky, powered by the emotions in her words, making her face glow.

Astra comes up beside her, putting her face next to her mistress’. Reaching up, Merla rests her small hand on the side of Astra’s muzzle, closing her eyes for a moment. Sometimes words weren’t needed, and Merla liked that. Through the bond she could feel Astra trusted her and that she should not doubt herself or her own judgements – that she would be there for the fey-daughter for however long she needed.