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"A Ring and a Promise" (Claira, Ashlin, Jelanda, Lawfer) ---------------------------------- Nine Tails Inn, Artolia Capitol - November 18 - Early Morning - ---------------------------------- "So... when are we scheduled to leave?" Claira paused in her search for a piece of parchment and glanced over her shoulder. Her companion was lounging in an armchair by the fire, one leg propped on a stool, looking bored - a dangerous condition, where Ashlin was concerned. "Are you that eager to get back on the road again? It's late in the year to be traveling. We're lucky it isn't already snowing." Ashlin shook her head and glanced at the window. "Not to say Artolia isn't nice, but it's a little... dull. I'd take hiking through snow any day." "That makes one of us..." Claira turned back to her search, fishing around at the bottom of her bag until her fingers encountered a scroll case. Everything had been packed so neatly in the beginning; the only thing stopping her from taking everything out and repacking /now/ was the urgency of their mission. It wouldn't do to be late for their meeting with the Princess and her escort. "Afraid of a little snow, /Professor/?" She snorted and pulled a blank piece of paper from the case. It flew to the table with a little mental push. "I'm more afraid of the the Princess and her temper. Can you imagine what she'll be like if we force her to ride /and/ camp in the snow? We'll never hear the end of it - her shouting alone will bring every brigand and monster in Crell Monferaigne down on our heads. If her enemies send spies, she'll be an easy target." Her bodyguard's pale head tilted, and her mouth curved into a mischievous smile. "I'm sure we can find a way to keep her quiet. With a silence spell, maybe?" Ashlin's smile became a grin. But when she spoke again, it wasn't about Jelanda. "Are you sure we have time for a letter? If you're going to change, you should really hurry - the candle has almost melted down to your mark." "I know, I know." Claira took a seat at the writing desk and opened her ink bottle, quill in hand. Now that she was sitting there, ready to write, she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say. There wasn't much going on that Lorenta didn't know about; this was really just a formality, an excuse to keep the promise she made in the last letter. Lorenta sounded so... lonely, when she was able to write back at all. Between her constant traveling and Lorenta's work schedule, there wasn't much chance to exchange messages. v With a sigh, Claira put the quill to paper and began to write. Lorenta, Today, November 18, we leave for Crell Monferaigne with Jelanda and her escort. I expect a long journey - we may be trapped there for awhile if the weather gets any worse. The last time I traveled the Border Range this time of year, I was trapped for a month in that horrid mining village. Much as I hate to say it, do not expect us to arrive on schedule. We'll do our best, but that may not be enough. "Where did you say that artifact was supposed to be?" Claira asked, twisting around again to look at her companion. "You said the map marked a spot somewhere in Crell Monferaigne. Does it correspond with our current maps?" Ashlin took a moment to answer, swinging her leg off the stool with a thud. She looked at her pack, probably thinking of going over to get the map, but seemed to think better of it. They were on a timetable, as she had pointed out. "It was in the mountains somewhere... a little before that old mining village you found me in." She flashed a grin at Claira's scowl. "Don't worry, we won't have to go back there - unless we get snowed in, that is. But... hmm, I'd say it's farther up." "How much farther?" She shrugged. "Far enough that there should be lots of snow to keep Jelanda company." She giggled, but sobered when Claira shot her a warning look. "It's in an area that I remember hearing about in the taverns. No one liked to go there, because it was 'unnatural'. Some stupid superstition, probably." "Typical." Claira turned back to her letter. "Do you remember anything else?" "Well..." Another pause. "I suppose we should be safe if we go after the treasure. There's probably a huge magical field around the area - the miners didn't like to go there because they said the weather was out of wack... no snow when there should be, that kind of thing. We won't get trapped by a blizzard, at least." "But we might be snared by whatever is inside, you mean?" When there was no response, she began to write again, taking comfort in the scent of the ink and the scratch of quill-tip on paper. It was always a pleasure to write; something about the atmosphere of it reminded her of when she was a student in Flenceburg. The memories were faded, but much warmer to her than the life she led now. It would be nice to return, even if the Academy's welcome turned out to be as cold as she suspected. We might take a slight detour - Ashlin has come up with clues to an artifact that may prove very useful, and I would hate to lose the chance to retrieve it. I will, of course, take steps to ensure that Jelanda is safe... although I must say, a little experience wouldn't hurt her. In that area, she is probably more lacking than most students her age at the academy. Until we meet again, good luck. Love, Claira She wiped the quill and capped the ink bottle, and placed them in their cases just as she had been trained to do at school. When the ink was dry Claira pushed the writing case aside and whispered a word, traced a rune over the creamy surface of the paper. The ink glimmered silver, and faded again into dull black. Claira folded the letter quickly and secured it with a seal bearing the insignia of the Flenceburg Sorcery Academy. No one would be stupid enough to interfere with Academy business... but if that failed, her cantrip would ensure that only Lorenta would be able to make sense of the letter. That practice was frowned on by the Elders and professors alike, but it made little difference to her. She was an exile; no matter what she accomplished or how many services she performed for the Academy, she would never be allowed back into their good graces. All things considered, she had nothing to gain from abiding by their rules. Besides, no one knew yet that Jelanda was traveling to Flenceburg. It wouldn't do to have that information escape secrecy. Claira stood and tucked her writing case back into her bag. "Ashlin, go downstairs and have one of the stable boys prepare our horses - give him some extra gold to keep quiet. And..." She took the letter and held it out. "Please take this to the pigeon cotes and have the keeper send this to Flenceburg when the sun rises." Ashlin lifted an eyebrow and smiled, taking the letter. "You're lucky I'm here to do this. What would you do without me, hm?" "I wouldn't be able to appreciate your fine company." Claira offered her a mocking smile and hurried over to her pack. She would have to change in record time to make their appointment. "Thank you, Ashlin." ------------------ Artolia Palace - Early Morning - ------------------ /Patience/ is a virtue, Lombert said. It is not becoming of a princess to have a /temper/. Jelanda leaned against the windowsill in the audience chamber, staring out at the graying morning sky as /patiently/ as she could manage, her back turned full to her escort. They were /part/ of her escort, in any case - the other half seemed to be taking their sweet time. They were all /men/, all clanking about in their armor when they moved, and she couldn't understand why she'd been left with them to wait in such an uncomfortable room when she could have just as easily waited in her own chambers. Was her father that eager to be rid of her? Of course, she /wanted/ to leave... The journey to Flenceburg would probably be miserable, and having to conform to their ridiculous rules would be even worse, but she would gain power there - more than she could hope for with tutors and people like the professor she would be traveling with. If she could return to Artolia with /power/, she would be able to show her father that they didn't need Lombert. He was an idiot - all he was good for was magic, and she just /knew/ somehow that he was up to no good. He was too slimy to be any good. The princess clenched her fist irritably, teeth gritted. //Where /are/ they?// Lombert had already checked on her once - she didn't want to be here long enough for him to do it again! The door opened, and Jelanda braced herself. But when she turned around, it was not Lombert that greeted her, but the tall knight that had been assigned as her guard instead, with the professor a few steps behind. "It's about time," she snapped. The knight - Lawfer, his name was Lawfer - bowed, but the professor only raised an eyebrow. She was almost intimidating... just a little bit. Black was a color for funerals, and the woman was /always/ swathed in it: black gowns, black cloaks and gloves and boots, now a black riding dress trimmed in black. A black ribbon was entwined in ebony hair, and even her eyes were almost dark enough to be black, if the light didn't hit them just right. Widows did that - they walked in death with their dead partners. Was this professor a widow? Come to think of it... Jelanda tilted her head, letting her eyes wander. The face was pale and flat, the only thing about her that didn't seem /dark/. She looked like one of those slaves in the market. Her eyes weren't quite right, but they were close enough. //How odd.// "Ashlin would like to speak with you later," the professor said, her eyes flickering to Lawfer. "You two will have to work out an arrangement and deploy the rest of the guard once we're on the road." "Understood." He bowed again and waited for Jelanda's nod before backing away and turning to speak to the guards. They would be coming along too, according to Lombert, but she didn't know any of them. Even if they were in her father's service, she thought she'd feel more comfortable with the newcomers. At least she felt she could trust /them/... this Claira person was rude, but she'd made her intentions crystal clear. "I have a gift for you, princess." Jelanda's gaze snapped back to the professor. "A gift? What kind of gift?" Claira smiled faintly and slipped a plain silver ring from her finger. "This," she said softly, extending it like an offering, "is a nameless artifact that changes the astral signature of its bearer. The road we must take through Crell Monferaigne is plagued with the undead, and this ring will shield you from their wrath." "How is it supposed to do that?" Interested in spite of her intentions to give the woman a tongue-lashing, she took the ring and turned it over curiously between her fingers. "I don't feel anything." "That is part of the enchantment." Claira shrugged with a rustle of cloth. "It will fool your opponents into thinking you are one of their own, but the effect is diminished when targeting living subjects." Jelanda hesitated, but slipped it onto her right hand, where it wouldn't interfere if she had to use her scepter. It didn't make her feel any different; it tingled a little when she put it on, but that was the only sign she could detect of its so-called power. "Are you sure it will work?" "I speak from experience." The princess looked up, and Claira bowed - shallow, but it was a start. "Shall we go, princess? I am sorry we kept you waiting." ------------------------------------ "A Ring and a Promise" (Claira, Ashlin, Jelanda, Lawfer) By Amber Michelle ------------------------------------ |