The Ashes of Winter

[Scriven]

​

Tom was an expert negotiator. He could convince almost anyone to do just about anything. The trick was finding out what they wanted; what was truly important to them. It was as simple as that.


Well, maybe not quite that simple, Tom admitted to himself as he looked into the eyes of a man who looked ready to shit himself. It also took a healthy dose of violence sometimes. The tip of his knife pressed into the man’s throat. Tom flicked the knife, nicking the skin so that just a tiny drop of blood welled up. It was no worse than a shaving cut, really, but it let the man know he meant business.


“I have nothing to tell you,” the man repeated again. There was a nervous waver in his voice, but a steely resolve in his eyes. Tom could admire that, but it didn’t really change things.


“No?”


“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Please, I’m telling you the truth.”


Maybe he was and maybe he wasn’t. Tom drew back his knife, but he didn’t put it away. He sighed, taking a step backward. “That’s too bad. You see, now I’m going to have to hurt your son. I really didn’t want to, but now I’ve got no choice.”


He saw panic in the man’s eyes. “What? But I really don’t know! What you’re talking about- a girl who can heal the sick and weaken the strong- it’s just a story! It’s not real! I can’t tell you anything about it!”


Tom’s lips formed a tight line, but he just shrugged. “See, maybe that’s true. And if it is, I’m going to feel really bad, alright? But I get this feeling from you that I could threaten you all day long and you wouldn’t tell me anything. But I think if I threatened your wife or one of your children it would be a whole other story. There’s really only one way to test my theory though, and it involves killing your son if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”


It was all just negotiating. Find out what they held dear and use that as a bargaining chip. Tom had spent plenty of time watching this man, and it was clear that his only son meant a great deal to him. A member of the Scholar’s Guild, this man was wealthy and educated, two things Tom was not. Tom was clever though, and he’d heard a rumor that there was a woman in the Scholar’s guild with an unusual talent. It was a popular fairytale, but this one had a twist. There was a rumor that the story was based in truth. Tom didn’t really believe it, but he was hungry and he was tired, and when he was hungry and tired and his prospects were looking dim he was more prone to taking chances. If the rumor was true and he could get his hands on whoever this girl was, he could sell her to the highest bidder. He could be a rich man and never had to negotiate again.


“I know the sheriff, you know. He’ll put you away in some cell where you can rot for the rest of your short, pathetic life.” The man from the Scholar’s Guild had changed tactics, trying to scare him.


“Is that before or after I kill your family? I assure you, I’m quite good at what I do. It’ll take him a while to find me if I don’t want to be found.”


He slung his arm around the man’s shoulders, pulling him in like a brother. “Tell you what. I’ll head to your house up the street and you go find the Sheriff. Let’s see who’s faster.”


It was a terrible thing to do and he knew it, but he was running out of options. He let go of the man and headed toward the door, but the man’s voice stopped him.


“Wait! Please... I’ll- I’ll tell you what I know.”





@Maven

 

[Oberons Veil]

The horse's hooves struck the cobblestone gently as Aeria rode through the crowded streets. Four men on foot dressed in the robes of the scholar's guild were accompanying her. Aeria herself however was dressed in a finer riding outfit, one meant for practicality and distance, as her ride would take her nearly two weeks to get to her destination. One might inquire as to her destination, and yet one would come to know that she was to head to the Citadel, the headquarters of the Scholar's Guild, high in the mountains overlooking a valley the guild had been given by the King for their service to the crown.


The people in crowd seemed busy, none seemed overly interested in Aeria, for that she was thankful. Word had reached her via members of the guild that some agents of foreign lands were looking for her, likely to whisk her away for various reasons, some for her relationship to the young king, others... others knew of her gifts. Those that must not be spoken up, those which must never be named, those which she had taken care to hid, but clearly not enough.


Mid-afternoon was a very busy time in the market district, not the ideal time to be leaving the city, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. The King had already been informed that she was leaving for some time away from the hustle and bustle of the court, but he of course was not told why she was leaving, no one was. Her four guards who were to only escort her out of the city, didn't even know the real reason she was leaving. The horse stumbled a little causing her white cowl to come down revealing her pale blonde hair, and her vibrant blue eyes, that stuck out among the darker haired and eye colored people of this Kingdom. It didn't take her long to recover and pull the cowl back up to cover her appearance once again, she sent up a silent prayer to one of her gods begging for her identity to not have been blown, though no answer came.





@Scriven

 

[Scriven]

Once upon a time, a beautiful princess lived in a secluded kingdom, hidden away from all those who might wish to use her to achieve their own ends. The princess had the power to give health to the sick, power to the weak, and even life to the dead. Hers was a blessing that, should she let it fall into the wrong hands, would undoubtedly become a terrible curse.


Of course, thought Tom as he walked through the market, subtly watching those around him, sometimes the tale was a little different. Sometimes in the story it was an old man with the power, not a princess, and he didn’t live in a secluded kingdom, but rather as a hermit in an enchanted forest. Sometimes the story was about a child, imbued with power and wisdom beyond his years. Sometimes the power was healing, sometimes the power was killing, sometimes the power was another kind of sorcery altogether. All the fables had a similar thing in common though: in all of them, the mage was stolen, used by someone else for malicious gains, and terrible things happened.


Perhaps that should have warned him off, but it didn’t. Tom was still skeptical that such a person even existed, but he had been assured by multiple people that the story was real. All- under duress- had given him a similar description of a young woman. Someone fair and pretty, in a position of power within the Scholar’s Guild and a companion of none other than the king. A spoiled, haughty bitch, Tom had no doubt. Wealthy, pretty women were always that way. They were used to being catered to. Now he just had to find the fair, well-to-do creature and find a way to whisk her off.


Oliver Black held a prominent position within the guild. When Tom had threatened to start by cutting the ears off his young son, he had spilled everything he knew like a wash bucket with a gaping hole. Black had assured Tom that, though few people were aware of it, the woman was leaving the King’s court soon and would be sure to pass through town. Her name, said Black, was Aeria. He described her as delicate and pale, with fair hair and startlingly blue eyes. She would be easy to spot.


Tom had been in town for a few days, waiting and watching, listening to those around him. The longer he waited, the more ill-tempered he grew. He couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself, so he’d carefully boded his time, obeying every law to the letter. Because he had no money and was stealing as little as possible, Tom had barely eaten and when he slept it was usually in the muck under the eave of a tavern or, if he was lucky, next to the pigs and horses in a barn.


Where was the wench? She was either taking her bloody time or that fool, Oliver Black, had made the mistake of giving him bad information. If Black had been lying, Tom had every intention of going back and cutting out his tongue.


It was then that he noticed a small party leaving from the direction of the castle. Among them, a woman in well crafted garments and on a fine horse with beautiful tack rode, a cowl making it difficult to see her face. It was the cowl that caught his attention though- the crisp white stood out among the sea of dark and dirty colors around her. Tom slipped through the crowd, getting closer, and it was then that the wind blew and swept her cowl away from her face. For a moment he saw pale blonde hair, fair skin, blue eyes.

Could this be his target? She was accompanied by several guard, but once they left the busy town he could take care of that. Pulling up the hood of his cloak, Tom hurried after them.

​

@Maven

 

[Oberons Veil]

Aeria scanned the crowd as she put her cowl back up. The wind wasn't strong but it was gentle, a sudden gust wasn't too uncommon though and it was something she had been able to forget about due to the rush of gathering her things, and one of her most prized possessions, a book that was in her saddle sack, within the book was a mystery to anyone and everyone that wasn't Aeria. It held the incantations, the spells and the alchemical recipes of all things, all the information that had been compiled over a thousand years and was passed down to the keeper of the sacred knowledge, and in this era that was Aeria.


The group had finally passed through the thick crowd, and were in eyesight of the city's main gate, at which nearly two dozen guards dressed in their armor stood at some kind of attention as Aeria approached, they knew who she was, and who her friend was. She passed through the gate without issue, none questioning her destination, none brave enough to speak in fear of offending Aeria, not that she was easy to offend, actually quite the opposite, but on the off chance they did they preferred the King not hear about it. Her escort from the Guild broke off and reentered the city as Aeria continued her journey along the road headed towards the Citadel. There were inns evenly spaced along the route per the King's predecessor's laws, this was to make the highways safer for the common citizen to travel, and to allow for shelter, food and other necessities to be obtained without having to alter one's path too far. Crime along the highways were rare, roaming bandits had been cleansed nearly four decades earlier by the army and now a group of highway patrol on horseback, consisting of nearly a dozen men were common sights on a regular route.


The day progressed and Aeria finally reached an inn, it was a long ways from the city, but just close enough to be reached in a days journey. The stableboy took her horse, and Aeria reserved one of the regular rooms rather than one of importance so as to rouse less suspicion. Taking her saddle-pack, and other important items into the inn and shutting herself away in her room, Aeria changed from her finer clothes and cowl into one that looked more common, a green and brown pattered tone was her choice, and she slipped out of her finer riding boots to those of worn leather to help play down her importance. Only after all of this did Aeria return to the main area of the Inn sitting at a table in the corner ordering some spiced cider and food to eat.


@Scriven

 

[Scriven]

The woman was inside eating. She had changed into less conspicuous clothing, but it did little to help her blend in. She had that look of high born nobility that those around her lacked, Tom thought, watching covertly through the window. There was an uprightness to her posture, pride in the tilt of her chin. He held her utensils delicately and ate slowly, neatly. Not a drop spilled into her lap and her sleeve never dragged across her plate. She was a right fine little lady. Once he got her alone she’d be easy to steal away.


But how to get her alone, and how to conclude, without a doubt, that she was the one he was looking for? He needed to somehow get her to show her powers to him so he could know with certainty that he’d found the right person.


Tom sat on a barrel outside the inn, leaning against the wall near the window. His fingers thrummed against his thigh, his face fixed into a thoughtful expression. He was an unremarkable looking man who blended in easily with the crowd around him. He was of medium height and medium built, with medium brown hair and medium brown eyes. He wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t not handsome. He was completely forgettable- a true asset for a criminal like him. He could make himself shrink in and seem smaller than he was. When he put his head down, people brushed right by him without a thought. He did have a mischievous smile and a clever gleam in his eyes, but he was the master of a bored, forgettable expression.


Right now, blending in wasn’t the thing that was going to help him though. Tom thought of what he knew of this supposed mage. A few of the men he had threatened had told him she had a unique healing ability. Tom looked down at the knife in the sheath at his side and grimaced, but he could think of no better plan. It was risky, yes, and painful, certainly, but if it paid off it would pay off greatly. He gripped the wooden handle of the knife and pulled it out of the sheath, looking at the blade warily. He positioned the point, took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and plunged the knife into his side.


Colors bloomed behind his eyelids. A crash of red and a streak of white, pain like lightning coursing through him and emanating from the side of his stomach where he’d pushed the knife in, then quickly drawn it out again. He staggered, almost falling to his knees, but he caught himself on the barrel. His body sagged and Tom had the realization that this was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever done.


He covered his wound with one hand, trying to stop the bleeding. He must’ve hit something important he thought, because he was losing a great deal of blood. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to hurt himself that badly. What had he been thinking? Tom took a staggering step toward the door of the inn, then another.


He’d had a dramatic entrance planned. He’d walk in, looking weak and pained, and implore the occupants of the inn for help. ‘A surgeon!’ he would call. ‘Please, can anyone help me? I’ve been stabbed!’


It was a brilliant plan, yet none of those things happened. He really was weak and in pain- far too much for such a performance. He made it to the door of the inn, but by the time his wet, bloody hand got the door open, he’d lost so much of the hot, red fluid that he collapsed right there in the doorway. A puddle of blood formed around him and his eyes closed, the world going dark.





@Maven

 

[Oberons Veil]

The man stumbled in through the doorway before collapsing on the ground. His clothes were ragged and he didn't look to be anyone of particular importance, as such only a couple people moved to help him at all, the Inn Keeper, what appeared to be his wife, and another man that appeared to be a surgeon or some kind of doctor because he grabbed a back as they hauled him off into one of the rooms. Aeria had to resist the urge to do something, to offer her assistance or to use her powers to help heal the man. It was clear there was a lot of blood and he looked extremely weak, already not one of the healthiest in appearances and to Aeria it looked as though he would likely die. She couldn't just use her powers though, she would have to read a spell out of her book, and if that didn't give her away and make rumors become fact then nothing would. The desire to help was immense, but the desire to remain hidden and not just simply giver herself away weighed even more heavily on her mind, she was not the kind of person to go too far out of her way to help another if it meant risking her own life, and in this case it could be risking the entire kingdom, something she was not prepared to do for a complete stranger.


Right as Aeria was getting ready to go up to her room, a shadowy figure in one of the other corners rose and went to where they had taken the man. He disappeared behind a door but a soft blue light could be seen from under the door. Another moage, she thought to herself. It was the only thing that could have happened. Mages weren't the most common, but in this Kingdom there were a handful that were known to wander around. While they did posses knowledge of the ancient arts like Aeria, they possessed extremely limited amounts and none could even scratch what Aeria could do. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing the man would actually pull through and his death wouldn't have to weigh heavily on her mind for the next couple weeks on the journey.


Rising finally from her table she smiled at one of the hostesses that came over to collect her dishes, she tipped the young woman a golden coin, before walking up the stairs and to her room shutting the door and bolting the lock. Being this time of the year, she opened the single window in the room to let in some fresh air before settling down on the bed, she didn't even bother to disrobe for the night as she would be leaving at daybreak to be able to make the next inn before nightfall. The roads were safe during the day, but come sun down the patrols were usually rather ineffective at preventing any kind of morbid violence, they instead became body collectors. The inns were usually safe places, but one could never be too careful, that man downstairs was a prime example of that.

 

[Scriven]

Through his pain, Tom saw the woman he had targeted stand. Yes, she was going to help him! But then she turned her back, moving away from him instead of closer to help.


The bloody bitch was going to let him die here, bleeding like a stuck pig. Tom groaned as two men picked him up, hauling him into the kitchen where they cleared a table and laid him out on it. He kept blacking out from the pain, but only for seconds at a time.


She hadn’t helped. She had seen him, stood up, and turned away. That little I'm uncultured, he thought angrily. All this power she supposedly had, but why help a dying stranger? She was as selfish as the rest of the upper class. He hated those that were educated and wealthy, and now this woman went into that category. Red hot disdain for her rose like bile in his throat. He was going to die. Such a fucking idiot, he thought, closing his eyes. That was the worst idea he had ever had and he’d actually followed through with it.


Someone was cutting his shirt away, but what was the use? He was bleeding out at an alarming rate. There was nothing they could do to save him now. His own stupidity was done.


Hands were on him; long, cool fingered hands from a man with a short beard and a stern expression. He was muttering words in a strange language and pressing his hands harder against the wound. It should have hurt, but it didn’t. Tom watched through slitted eyes as the man chanted in some alien tongue. A blue light began to emanate from him, surrounding him like an aura, then it extended and enveloped Tom. He felt light. The pain began to fade away. He felt like he was floating in a river of warm water and the water was softly washing over him. It washed away the blood and became part of him, filling in the wound his knife had caused. His eyes opened, but he couldn’t see anything but blue light.


Finally the light faded and the man’s hands fell away as he slumped into a chair. The man looked weakened, a sheen of sweat on his brow. Tom, on the other hand, felt better than he’d felt in a long time. His stomach was still empty and he was still tired from hunger, but he felt vital and strong. He looked down at his blood soaked clothes and pulled apart the edges of the shirt someone had cut apart. He was still covered in blood, but where the wound had been there was now only a strange white scar.


The people he had threatened and pumped for information had been wrong. The mage of fairy tale was no beautiful young woman. It was this man beside him, and now Tom had proof.


“Sir, I owe you my life,” he said, sliding off the table. When this man departed, Tom would follow.


@Maven