A Fae in a Foreign Land

[Breaker]

Closed to Jarilo. All bunnying approved.

Jacob Narmolanya sat cross-legged on a soft, grassy field a short hike from Underwood. He meditated with both eyes open, studying the subtle rises and falls of the earth, the curvature of the grass, and the shapes of the trees surrounding the clearing. He was still as a mountain's peak; he was calm as the ocean floor; he was...

... "To Haide with this," the young half-elf muttered. He straightened his legs and leaned back on his arms and slouched. He snared a pack of pre-rolled tobacco cigarettes from his inside pocket and lit one with a practiced arcane flourish. The smoke seeped into his lungs and soothed the crick in his neck better than an hour of proper posture, which was what his instructor had recommended.

Jake took another drag and then removed his cloth cap, letting dirty blond locks fall below his ears. He'd let his hair grow longer than usual, and was considering adopting a topknot after the Akashiman style. Josh said his skill with a blade had long since surpassed that of the average samurai.

Thinking of his instructor caused the wiry youth's green eyes to dart to the line he'd drawn in a section of bare dirt, and the stick he'd jabbed into it perhaps a yard away. He'd measured twice; when the stick's shadow cross the line it would be time to bring Josh back from Dheathain. Jake finished the cigarette and extinguished it on the ground and buried the butt.

He put his left hand on his hip to balance the tonfa strapped there and sprang upright like a snake uncoiling. He unsheathed his liviol fighting stick faster than a crane could catch a litefish and flowed into a one-footed form; the leaping leopard. Jake bent his leg and leapt forward with an overhead strike and then swept across the meadow, fencing with a half dozen invisible opponents at once. Joshua Cronen might consider meditating in the woods for an hour a good use of time, but Jake would always work on his swordsmanship given the chance. He practiced until afternoon fully bled into evening, and then suddenly remembered why he was there when he nearly tripped over the stick.

"Blood and guts" he cursed, realizing he was perhaps five minutes late. He sheathed his tonfa and reached inside his sifan jacket, touching the enchanted quill there more out of familiarity than necessity. He drew on its power and focused his energy with both hands raised and conjured a portal in the shape of a simple oaken door with a brass knob. On the other side of the known world an identical door appeared, and sure as Am'aleh ruled the seas he hoped Cronen would be ready to come through it.

Jake waited tensely for a few moments and then ran to where he'd left his bow and arrows along with his haversack. He knocked an arrow and arranged his feet and waited, relaxing more with each breath. His leather boots ground further into the grass and he half-drew, sighting the oaken door at head height. If anyone came through behind Josh...

The door opened with a bang, or rather it would have if there'd been a wall to bang against. Joshua Cronen tumbled through, rolling to a stop on four points and spinning about until he spotted his apprentice.

"Jake, no! She's a friend!" Josh cried.

The half-elf lowered his bow but kept the arrow knocked, preparing to dismiss the portal as soon as this friend arrived.

[Jarilo]

Wotan flew out of the portal first, and he made a raucous bee-line for the armed half-elf’s face, flapping furiously in defense of she who came hurtling out of the portal after him.

For her part, despite how eager she was to escape those that sought to capture her, she remained cautious. It was wise that the male she had so impulsively followed had immediately declared her ‘friend,’ but she still did not know him. And she knew the second male standing before her even less… so, with ears pressed flat against her earth-colored dreadlocks, she gripped her flute tight as she came skidding to a stop, silently debating about how best to defend herself should the need arise.

“Where have you brought me?” she finally asked, her voice as hard as the steel that glimmered in her eyes.

Upon hearing her speak, Wotan returned to his favorite perch on her left shoulder, where he glared malevolently at the world around him. As ever, he looked for the threats she could not see.

This new clearing that was bathed in the richness of the setting sun felt strange to them both, and disconcerting. Though the fae took the difference much harder than her raven. Instead of the deep, dark forest she called home, this forest was airy and far too bright for her liking. It was a land of summer, and of sunlight. The moon held no sway here…

And neither did she.

[Breaker]

Breaker stifled a laugh as he watched Jake duck beneath the raven's claws, shooing it away with his recurve bow. He would have given everyone a better warning, but they'd come in from Dheathain with several Fae hunters in pursuit. Josh shook his head as he dusted off his black sifan clothing and used a lick of air magic to polish the scuffs off his black metal boots. He ran a hand through close cropped brown hair and scratched a stubbled chin as he stepped slightly between Jake and Jarilo.

An hour earlier, the half elf had sent Breaker to Dheathain following a tip from a local Diviner. The gifted woman had shown them a clearing in Dheathain and imparted that only there would Josh find the next step on his path to ascension. With every breath and every step Breaker could hear his goddesses, Am'aleh and Suravani, calling to him from beyond th mortal realm. Jarilo - the Fae woman - was a foreteller of some sort, and she had promised Josh a reading before the hunters had set upon them.

Whatever she reads about me, Josh told himself, it will set me on the right path.

Josh felt impatient to learn what he could from Jarilo, but dusk had fallen and a damp chill crept up as a light fog set in. Breaker did not want to seem inhospitable, and besides, a private dining room at an upscale inn would make a better place for a reading.

"Jarilo, meet my student and friend, Jacob Narmolanya," Josh introduced the two, "Jake, I met Jarilo in the clearing you sent me to just before we came under attack. Let's get her and her friend," he acknowledged the raven with a nod, "to the Krowesnest." The inn usually had an available dining room this early in the night, and always had good drinks and hot food.

Jake scuffed a leather boot in the brownish grass but stepped forward somewhat shyly and reached out to shake Jarilo's hand.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the half elf told the Fae.

[Jarilo]

She gripped her elder wood flute tight again, as if it could give her some sense of reassurance. Not even an hour ago, she was dancing in the moonlit forest of her home. Then, the man before her stepped out of thin air, and she hadn’t been able to catch her breath since. The attack, the strangely heroic half-orc they’d left behind, their escape--all of it had her feeling quite lost, as though she’d been swept up in an inescapable current. She clung like mad to what few things she still had--her flute, her raven, her runes, and even her knapsack--and searched constantly to find some rock on which to adhere herself.

To that end, the half-elf’s affable--albeit shy--greeting put her a little more at ease with her present company at least, if not with her surroundings. Graciously, she accepted Jacob’s hand and nodded her antlered head at him in acknowledgment, whereupon Wotan took it upon himself to add his own churlish two-cents. His acerbic commentary alleviated some of her tension, thank the gods, and even made her smirk.

“Wotan wants you to know that he is not sorry,” the strange, song-like accent of her amused explanation floated between them like smoke and snowflakes, “but that he will not try that again... unless you give him cause.” She was paraphrasing, as the raven’s actual wording was too profane for strangers, but that was the gist of his message.

With that, she dropped Jacob’s hand to address the other, “What is this crow’s nest you speak of? and how far is it?”

Jarilo, too, was impatient for this reading to occur. She was hoping to get a read on this strange human male, to learn more about why he was so powerful, and--more importantly--to ascertain if he and his student were suitable traveling companions. Foreign to these lands as she was, and strange as she knew her appearance would be to others, it would certainly behoove her to surround herself with the strange man and his ilk--but not if he was dangerous, and not if his plans derailed her own.

She knew, of course, that her runes would only give her a vague sketch of his essence...

Hopefully, she thought to herself, that will be enough.

[Breaker]

"If he does try it again we'll be eatin' roasted raven for dinner," Jake muttered, too quiet for anyone but Breaker to hear.

Josh hid his smile and gave Jake a stern look before striding off toward Underwood, inviting his companions to follow with a wave of open arms.

"Just this way milady," he said, noting the way Jarilo's grey eyes darted about, absorbing everything they could see. "We're walking through Concordia, the great forest of the continent Corone." Josh chuckled. "You may not have realized it, but we travelled across more than half of Althanas when we stepped through Jake's doorway. Don't worry," he added, "we can send you back home any time you like, or mostly anywhere else in the known world, given the right information." He clapped Jake heartily on the shoulder, nearly knocking the slender half elf on his face.

The trio hiked between trees, over grassy hills and into a wide clearing that bordered the forest town of Underwood. During the recent civil war the Underwood Watch had constructed large oaken walls around the town, with oversized gateways where roads entered and smaller doors dotting the walls between. Josh led the group to a sturdy trakym door set in the oaken wall. He thumped the door with a fist and stood back as a small slotted window open and a pair of youthful brown eyes peered out.

"Who requests entrance?" Came the voice of a young guardsman.

"Are you saying you don't recognize me, Ethan?" Josh joked. Quite aside from cutting an unmistakable figure in his loose black clothing and metallic boots, he had twin Y-shaped scars below his eyes that shone white in the falling night. He had also served as Underwood's Sheriff for a short time, and knew most of the guards by name.

"Err, of course not sir." The young guard was slightly taken aback at being named by such an imposing figure. "I am supposed to ask 'who goes there' anytime someone bangs on the door though, sir."

"Of course lad," Cronen replied, "and I wouldn't want you to do anything else. It's Joshua Cronen and company. He stepped sideways to allow the guard a view of Jake and Jarilo.

"Who's she?" The guardsman demanded, brown eyes narrowing at the Fae, "I don't reckon I've seen her type around here before..."

"Guardsman." Joshua's tone changed suddenly; he sounded like a ranking military official rather than a casual friend. "Are you questioning my ability to assess this young woman's character, or my ability to ensure she behaves peaceably?"

"I errm... sorry sir."

The latch grated and the door opened, and the trio ducked into Underwood with Wotan winging ovetop of the wall.

The Krowesnest was a medium-sized establishment and catered to medium clientele; the tabletops were polished, but the sawdust on the floor still sopped up a significant amount of spilled ale and saliva. The staff were all young and attractive, but they were paid little enough that they were mostly willing to make side arrangements for a little extra coin. The proprietor, Roland Krowe, lived in Radasanth where he owned several other inns and didn't care much what his staff got up to so long as they kept sending him the profits. In short, the Krowesnest was Breaker's kind of place.

Jake held one of the double doors open by a heavy brass ring and ushered Josh and Jarilo inside with a short bow. Shadows played along the scarred wooden walls and old oil paintings cast by lanterns and a roaring hearth that dominated the center of the common room.

Josh strode to the bar and inquired about the private dining rooms, paying an extra gold crown for not having a reservation. While a serving girl with a sweet smile swept off to prepare the room, Josh ordered a round of drinks.

"Two Sirohlian Scotches for myself and the good Jacob Narmolanya," he told the barkeep, before turning to Jarilo, "would you care for a drink milady?"

[Jarilo]

Following Josh’s careful lead, she took the time to get more acquainted with the forest around her. What she discovered only saddened her: Dheathain was an ancient land and wild. It could not be subdued. Her forest, treacherous and glorious, violently and mercilessly resisted its various inhabitants as much as it indulged them. This land was ancient, too, but much tamer. And, while there was a wildness that still, timidly whispered to her from some of the darker shadows, much of this beleaguered forest had long since surrendered to those that lived within its protective embrace. All of the trees she touched or leapt over were silent, and sad, and so, so tired.

And then, her guide led her to a city in a clearing that was surrounded by stark, dead wood. It was some sort of defensive wall--the intent was plain--but she could see that there had been no love or even respect in its construction. Instead, it was a monument to fear--vulgar in its brazenness, and heartbreaking.

It repelled her, but she could not look away.

She thought of the wood used by her own kind: how only artisans were allowed to work with it, how careful those artisans were to use only what was necessary, how lovingly they carved and shaped the wood into works of art, and how each and every piece was afforded the same respect and affection as any fae enjoyed. Her bow had been carved in this manner, as well as each of her arrows. And she--herself--had painstakingly carved her own flute, under the careful guidance of an artisan, as thankful homage to the tree in which she found Wotan.

But then, her guide started talking to someone--presumably, the individual who would allow them to enter.

Sure enough, after a brief conversation that she didn’t pay much attention to, the young lad opened the door for them. Wotan flung himself into the air, choosing to fly over the wall while they passed over the threshold. She let her fingers trail across the wood as she went, sending the dead wood that guarded this city her silent thanks. It was too small a gesture, and probably much too late, but she felt it necessary, regardless.

Wotan found her again shortly after, and Josh led them to a place called the Krowesnest, which she learned was a tavern instead of the actual nest she mistakenly imagined.

They entered, and Jarilo was at once confronted by a small, but substantial, group of strangers. Immediately, her hackles raised, but Wotan cawed at her. His timely clamor reminded her to calm down enough to realize that not many of these strangers paid her any mind at all; or, if they did, it was only to stare at her obvious foreignness. Either because of her company, or because of their own lethargy, none of her silent observers felt compelled to single her out in anyway--for which she was thankful.

She was distracted again by Josh’s unexpected question. Hurriedly, she answered, “Ah… I’ll just have what you are having.”

[Breaker]

"Make it three, please." Josh told the barkeep. I hope Jarilo has consumed alcohol before, he thought. Alerian dwarves brewed and aged Sirohlian Scotch in the bluff hills surrounding Kachuk. It went down as smooth as honey and kicked harder than Josh with his enchanted metal boots.

The serving girl returned from preparing their dining room and invited them down a short oak-paneled hall. The paintings hung in the hallway were moderately better than those in the common room; Josh could tell what they were. A blotchy woman in a witch's hat scowled from one side of the hall while the image of a knight in armor glowed on the other. The serving girl made for much better scenery. She had soft brown hair set in long tresses that weren't the only thing that bounced as she moved. Her name was Clara, if he had heard right.

"... and after all this is our finest dining room, sir. It's fortuitous you dropped by this night." Clara finished her line of courteous chatter, held the door for them and then curtsied her way out of the room. Whether by accident or on purpose, the curtsy further unveiled the cleavage her swooping neckline displayed. I hope she's after Jake, was all Cronen could think. The half elf certainly looked interested, if a little red around the ears and cheeks. Josh chuckled and then coughed to cover it.

"Jake, would you mind guarding the door? I'd hate for anyone to overhear." Breaker requested, although in truth he just wanted to give Jarilo as much privacy as possible. The half elf acquiesced without complaint, for he had suddenly received an excuse to talk to Clara the bosomy server.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Josh told Jarilo. He ignored the fine cyper dining table lined with matching chairs and sat instead in one of a pair of trakym rockers by the blazing hearth. "Will this suffice for a reading?" He indicated the short table that separated the rocking chairs from the fire. He could feel perspiration forming in the small of his back, and not from the heat of the room.

What kind of clue has Ama'leh led me to? The Goddess had left him a twisting trail to follow to eternity at her side.

Jake knocked and then entered with the drinks. He left two tumbler glasses each containing a double shot of scotch on the small table and then exited, mentioning that he'd ordered them three helpings of whatever was hot and fresh.

Josh thought he heard Clara giggle in the hall as Jake closed the door.

[Jarilo]

Following Josh’s long stride, she entered the private room gladly, both surprised and relieved by such courtesy. Even Jacob was dismissed, to flirt with his pretty serving girl, making Jarilo grin as she watched him leave. Though, Josh’s question made her recall her true purpose for being here. She turned away from the now closed door to study Josh by the light of the crackling hearth.

Not for the first time, she realized how much bigger-than-life the man was. It wasn’t just the titan’s aura he emanated, it was in everything that he did or said. It was how he carried himself. It was the light, friendly manner by which he interacted with others. He was a giant among men, and upon getting to know him even just a little better, she was coming to realize that such largeness wasn’t necessarily as intimidating as she first thought it was… or rather, she amended her observation to being true only in regards to his allies or friends. She had no doubt, after all, that this man would be devastating in a fight.

Wotan left her shoulder again, to find another perch that would afford him a view of the casting. Jarilo never liked to be touched during the process, he knew, but she often did like hearing his opinion on the results. His sudden movement brought her back out of her thoughts.

“The place matters much less than the intent,” she finally answered Josh with a mysterious curl of her lips. Falling silent, she padded over to one of the indicated rockers and lowered herself into it as she reached for the velvet pouch that carried her runes--

But Jacob entered with their drinks, then, only to leave once more after placing them on the small table between Josh and her. As he left, he mentioned the eventual arrival of food, and Jarilo’s stomach rumbled in quiet (for now) anticipation--though she ignored it, as well as her drink for the moment. She was busy centering herself for what she was about to do.

Rune-pouch in hand, she closed her eyes and forced herself to let go of the anxieties that had so quickly accrued since her arrival into this realm--Corone, as Josh had named it. Needing familiarity, she brought herself back to Dheathain, and allowed herself to retreat into the mists and shadows. She let go of her form, then, losing track of where she ended and the forest around her began. She smelled the dirt and the trees, felt them, and she listened to the noises of life around her. A softer smile found its way on to her lips--though she was unaware of it, lost as she was in her mental landscape. It was only an echo of her home, true, but it calmed her down enough to allow her to attune herself with her runes.

On impulse, she decided that she would perform the runic cross on his behalf, the same as she had done for herself earlier. Six runes, in the shape of a cross, to give an in-depth analysis of Josh’s issue.

Thus, decided and more relaxed than she’d been since arriving in Corone, she opened her eyes and began.

Willowy fingers delved into the pouch she held, searching for the rune that called to her. She finally stopped when she felt one that was distinctly cold to the touch, and she withdrew it to place on the table in front of her, on her right-hand side. Looking down, she saw the Cross looking up at her. “You come from Naudiz,” she told him, pointing to the rune, “a past full of hardship and great need. You crave something, but you are in the right place. Accept your past, but do not let it own you.”

She fell silent and renewed her search for the second rune. When she found it, she placed it on the table directly in front of her, face up. The Thorn. Not often did this mercurial, chaotic rune emerge to speak of a person’s identity, and its assertion now gave her pause.

Beside her from his place on the mantle, Wotan squawked, reminding her of what she was doing. She jumped a little and shook her head to dispel the distracting train of thought. “You are Thurisaz,” she finally explained, recovering herself, “... this a good thing... until it becomes bad.” Looking up, she furrowed her eyebrows, “Only you can claim your powerful destiny, so long as you do not become blinded by it.”

She reached into her pouch a third time, and withdrew the third rune to lay it to the left of the Thorn, face down. She took a second to see which rune it was, then smiled. The Empty Cup. It was a favorite of hers, despite her affiliation with Ansuz. “Pertho lies in your future, but it is face down,” she told him, “and this only means that you must claim your right to choose in everything, and that you must take nothing for granted.”

When she reached into her pouch this time, the fourth rune all but leapt into her hand. She placed it on the table directly in front of her, below the Thorn. “The Foundation of your issue is Hagalaz,” again she was taken aback, but she tried a little harder not to show it. Hail. Like the Thorn, it was a powerful, often destructive rune. “You need to know that a hailstorm is daunting,” she carefully elaborated, “until you catch a hailstone and see that it is only water--nothing to be feared. So it is with challenges.”

The next rune, as well, made itself known immediately. She placed it face up on the table before her, just above the Thorn. She saw that it was Ice, and this gave her pause for another reason entirely, but she gave him the more widely accepted interpretation, “Your Challenge is Isa,” she told him, “stagnation. Simple enough to avoid, if you have the wisdom to recognize it.”

The final rune emerged, and--seeing what it was--she placed it above Ice with some reverence. It was the rune of Fire, and--like the Thorn--it’s power could either be a very good thing or very bad. “If you are careful enough, you will achieve Kauno,” she concluded, “or Enlightenment, which in of itself is not the goal. Rather, it is the starting point of a great adventure, the promise of great wisdom and understanding, but only if you proceed with truth and honesty.”

She sat back, then, and studied the man in front of her anew. He was Thorn, and Hailstorm, and Fire all in one. So much power, and all of it balanced on the edge of a knife. She wondered, too, at Naudiz, his past that he craved so much, and at Isa that was his challenge. As a creature of ice, herself, she couldn’t help thinking that the rune spoke to her as well as him. But she didn't know what the message meant... at least, not yet. She thought of the reading she’d done on herself earlier. She remembered her foundation: Sowilo, the Sun, and her challenge: Ehwaz in reverse... and then, her outcome: Dagaz, the Breakthrough…

A glance at Wotan told the raven that she wanted to hear his thoughts later, in private. He couldn’t blame her. The runes seemed to be weaving a complex narrative.

[Breaker]

The Cross, the Thorn, the Empty Cup... Hail, Ice, and Fire. Breaker burned each rune into his memory along with Jarilo's interpretations of their appearance and position. He had not expected the reading to provide clear answers, but even so he'd hoped to find a message from Am'aleh hidden amongst the symbols. Hail, Ice, and Fire... perhaps there's something there.

"Thank you," Josh said, and raised his glass in a silent toast to Jarilo's skill. He took a long sip of scotch and returned his glass to the short table, watching the way the flickering flames played in the rippling liquid as he pored over the clues he'd received.

The reading had mostly reinforced what he already knew. You're in the right place... accept your past, but do not let it own you. Jarilo had said. That made sense both literally and spiritually; it almost felt like review. Only you can claim your powerful destiny, so long as you do not become blinded by it. He'd learned that the hard way, perhaps more than once. You must claim your right to choose in everything, and that you must take nothing for granted. That ran deeper... Josh took a long breath and another sip of scotch.

The right to choose in everything... Josh had chosen Suravani over Ama'leh during his time in Fallien, before returning to Ama'leh realms. He could not bring himself to regret his time with the other goddess, and yet... something had shifted between him and Ama'leh. The gods, he had learned, were more than capable of emotion... especially jealousy.

... Until you catch a hailstone and see that it is only water. That was the hint; Ama'leh was water. Amongst other gifts she'd granted him an innate proficiency with the arcane arts of water, steam and ice. Most often she appeared to him as a woman formed from still water. Stagnation... had he taken her so very much for granted?

Enlightenment... is the starting point. The point when he would be independent from Ama'leh, distinct as fire and water. But to reach that point he would need her absolute assistance...

Cronen blinked and shook his head, and realized he was still holding his scotch, rocking ever so slightly in the wooden chair. He took a short sip and set down the glass and turned toward Jarilo, several questions springing to mind.

A firm hand knocked at the door and then Jake and Clara spilled into the room amidst apologies and flirtatious laughter. Between them they bore three plates of steaming food. Josh smelled roasted chicken and mushrooms amongst a bevy of vegetables. His mouth watered and the questions faded to the back of his mind.

"I hope you're hungry," he smiled at Jarilo as Jake pulled a chair around to join them and Clara placed their plates.

~*~

Darkness had fallen in the empty clearing where Josh had ported Jake, Jarilo and Wotan in perhaps an hour earlier. Only the light of the moon illuminated the stillness of the field, until something sparked in the exact location Jake's door had appeared. A casual eye might have mistaken it for a firefly at first. The spark grew and morphed as it moved about erratically, drawing the rough shape of a fiery circle in the air. Soon the clearing glowed with the shape of a blazing ring to blackness... another portal had formed.

[Jarilo]

She watched Josh’s face as he absorbed her words, gratified to see that he took them so seriously. Not many did. Her gods were older than most, and largely forgotten. Their sterner interpretations of Fate less popular than those of more modern deities. Jarilo spent much of her childhood resenting the difference, not understanding why so many of her own kind shunned her.That same difference was the reason she decided to take on the life of a caitiff… but leaving Donnalaich didn’t change much. More often than not, people disregarded her readings out of hand.

But not this man.

This man sat in his rocking chair and internalized what the runes told him. He looked troubled by the message, and yet knowing… somehow. She furrowed her eyebrows at it, ears twitching slightly with curiosity--

But then, Jacob re-entered with the serving girl from earlier. The cheerful sound of laughter shattered their intimate bubble, and the alluring aroma of food reminded her stomach of what it lacked. Her lips curled into an eager grin that mimicked Josh’s own as she purred her response, “Hungry doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

Getting up to join them as well, she took an experimental pull from the unknown drink she haphazardly ordered. She wasn’t ready for it. The drink went down like a tongue of fire, making her gasp and splutter as her body strove mightily to reject it. Eyes watering and ears flat, it was all she could do to stumble over to the table to set the vile drink down. She might have only taken a small sip, but she already felt the heady daze indicative of a fresh, and intense, buzz. “Godsh,” she slurred, her tongue half-numb, “what in hell ISH thish?!”