Of the Old and Young (Solo)

[orphans]

This Solo will be from the perspective of Mother Holly, the Den Mother/Keeper at the Underwood Orphanage that is part of Azza's canon. Heavy editing will also ensue after the completion and before submitting.



I was old and tired well before my time was due, but I had never admitted it to myself until recently. Streaks of grey now run wildly through my hair, just as the children do outside the orphanage amongst the grass. I suppose it’s them I have to thank for being able to keep my heart light and free, until recently.

Try as I might to shield the children from the true state of Corone, I am only an old woman now. One with too few answers and too much to hide and as much as I wish the words of my father were wrong, I cannot help but heed them. War became a friend the moment I held a sword and war became my life the moment I realized I could make a living off of it.

And no matter how hard I try, it always seemed to follow where I go.

Or perhaps it is because I am so accustomed to seeing the signs of war as an old friend, which I cannot help but move to embrace it. Nevertheless, I know I cannot for the sake of the children and for my own sake; I will not repeat my mistakes.

Despite my efforts though, I am only an old woman now, and the palisades that now surround Underwood are clearly an indication of trouble to come. The children know and are sharp enough to realize that a storm is brewing. It is, after all, hard not to notice the influx of soldiers filling the streets, mercenaries in the markets, and other seedier types in the bars.

And by some Thayne forsaken grace, the orphanage was built too far from the town proper to have been enclosed within the newly built walls. “Would take too many resources,” I was told, despite the fact that the city guard was more than willing to cater to the wants of the whores. A harsh sentiment, I’ll admit, and perhaps not entirely true of all of them.

At the same time, I suppose it’s because we were so far out of the way that those who burned Underwood overlooked us. But I know that in itself is a lie.

More often than not, I find myself drinking in an attempt to ward off the current situation, only to find myself lapsing into older memories that I thought I had forgotten. However, I would only be fooling myself if I thought I could forget about my origins.

The days of peace are drawing to a close, and

[orphans]

A sudden knock on the door to the orphanage sounded through the nearly empty building. It was mid-day with the summer sun stretching lazily across the sky, meaning that the older children were keeping an eye on the younger at a nearby stream. Arching my back did little to satisfy the ache while the knocking continued again in an even more impatient manner.

“I’m coming!” It was a miracle that I managed to stave off the annoyance welling up from inside. After I had replaced the quill in its holder and stored my journal in the desk once more, I stood and made for the door.

Another set of knocks, pounding this time, as I approached the door. With the last bit of tolerance cast off I ripped opened the door to confront three gruff looking men in armor; one of which had hold of a child that I recognized as one of my charges.

“Dis kid yuurs?” The man, who I assumed to be the unshaven leader, managed to ask around a mouthful of something foul and a beard. He jerked a thumb to the struggling child, a small boy who had arrived a month ago after his parents had died in a supposed accident; accidents that had risen with the number of mercenaries.

“Yes, he is one of the many I care for,” was my only reply, the hostility clear as the sun above.

The man spit out his vile wad onto the steps where I stood, narrowly missing my foot and from the look in his eyes, he had expected me to flinch. “Yuh gots a real addatude lady. Gets yuh killed nowuhdays.” The men behind him chuckled, each probably more idiotic than their leader.

But, before I could respond a voice called out, “HALT!” All heads turned to see a lanky fellow walking towards us quickly. His uniform told us the station of an officer within the Underwood guard. He was an elven man with sharp eyes and held an even sharper spear. “Ventuvi, you know your men are on the verge of being thrown in the cells if there’s another incident.”

Ventuvi, as the man was called, raised his hands up to show no harm. “Yes ser, Lander.” There was an obvious fake show of admiration to the guard. His two fellow mercenaries mimicked their leader, allowing the boy free to run inside. “Sees? We weres just returnin de boy to her.”

Lander, narrowed his eyes and made a motion for them to move off. They did so with unhurried movements while Ventuvi chanced one last glance in my direction. I would have been a fool if I couldn’t see the fire in his eyes.

“Thank you, Lander.” With the trouble gone for the moment, I allowed myself to sigh before picking up a nearby broom to clean the mess.

“My apologies for not having arrived sooner, Lady Holly.” He bowed politely then continued on his way and as I watched him leave, I felt my opinion of the guard rise ever so slightly.

[orphans]

Before long, the singing of the small children accompanied by the chaperoning voices of the older could be heard as they emerged from the wooded line that marked the end of the orphanage grounds. Heat rose in my chest as the familiar tugging of disappointment on my lips began, but I fought back the urge.

The forests were always dangerous, but now they were especially so; hiding soldiers of Rangers and spies of the Empire alike and both were not likely to discriminate who they killed or took hostage. Still, they were children of the forest and if anyone could vanish from a soldier’s or a spy’s sight, it would be them.

Despite my efforts to hide my feelings, they must have shown as the children silenced themselves and lowered their heads when they found me sweeping the front steps. I cracked a grin to break the silence and motioned for everyone to move in. “Wash up for supper everyone.”

They all replied in a chorus of, “Yes Mother Holly,” and moved about to do their assigned duties before dinner. Whether it was wiping down the tables, setting the plates, or helping the younger clean up, they all knew what to do.

I chuckled then. Without even realizing it I had drilled them all in the same fashion as I would have a soldier. Slowly, my eyes close in a vain attempt to clear my mind of memories it was spiraling towards. Those days are gone and it would do me no good to dwell on them.

So I’ve told myself for the last twenty years.

The unwelcome sight of the messenger to the town’s spokesman greeted my eyes as I opened them: an unwelcome, balding, fat man who had trouble balancing his weight on his two feet. “Message for you, Miss Ciders” His sausage like fingers, dirty still with whatever meal he had last, offered a rolled up parchment.

I eyed him with disdain as he brought out a handkerchief to dab daintily at his brow. Wanting him to get out of my sight quickly, I accepted the scroll and without further ado, he began his journey back.

“Bastards…”

“OoooOo! Mother Holly swore!” the voice of one of the younger girls managed to pipe up. I recognized it as Rita, a cheerful girl but one with a tendency to tattle and spy on others.

“Rita, you’re supposed to be washing up, not putting acorns in Brendan’s shoes.” The squeal of shocked surprise gave away her true intention as she scurried away quickly back inside. Now I allowed myself to smile fully as a small twirl of air glided past my ears. "Still have it..."

[orphans]

To Holly Ciders of the Underwood Home for Disadvantaged Children,

We of the Counsel of Underwood formally require your presence in deciding the coming month’s budget spending. As you know, under the Ranger’s banner, we have all needed to make certain sacrifices for the betterment and future of our nation. The meeting will commence at the fifths toll of the bell in the town hall meeting room.

Please do not be late.


Same, Thayne damn unsigned note every month delivered by the same watermelon of a man ever since this revolution started. It was more of an exercise in power abuse and paranoia. Despite having to only meet the counsel once a month, it was always test of restraint for me. I never had the stomach for bureaucratic nonsense and self-important nobles. Sadly they are the ones with money, political power and the ones people are willing to listen to in times of fear. Not to mention that they also paid the mercenaries and soldier.

After I finished, I crumpled the note in hand and tucked it away into a pocket of my apron. Dinner would have to be a quick for me tonight as four tolls sounded off in the distance.

Dinner, as usual, was an unassuming amount of baked breads and a soup made from wild vegetables and herbs. It struck me as funny how none of the food on the table was bought with coin. The children foraged for the vegetables and herbs while the bread was donated by the eccentric, but kind, Jackson and his daughter Willow. The two owned and operated a small bakery that now was forced to cater to the soldiers and mercenaries. All the while, those who I would be meeting with ate at whenever and whatever they pleased.

Still, the children laughed and complained very little. I was thankful for that and it eased some burden off my shoulders know it.

[orphans]

At exactly five tolls of the bell, I seated myself in the town hall meeting room. It was a square room, arranged so that the speaker would be standing in the middle while the mayor himself, sat upon a judge’s throne and to either side of the room sat those involved: Wealthy business owners and aristocrats on one side, everyone else on the other.

Needless to say, it was a boring occasion that had over plumped men and women vying for more concessions and favors while those who sat with me, simple wanted the necessities for life. By the hells, I was still dressed in the apron and long sleeved dress of the orphanage. Those that sat with me were in their common clothing as well.

“… and so once more, I reliterate the need for more soldiers to be posted at the southern gate where many of the noble families reside.”

A word the man in the middle said caught my attention and had me mumbled, loudly, without thinking, “You mean, reiterate.”

The man next to me, an old miller, nudges me quickly, as a notion for me to apologize while the man in the middle looked towards me both flustered and red with anger. When I made no motion to apologize, the sweaty, meaty man in the middle mumbled that he was finished and returned to his seat.

Eventually the current mayor, a young man who I did not know and was rather new to Underwood, coughed into his fist and looked towards me. “It seems like you have something to say,” he began as he looked at a list of names and seating order. “Holly Ciders, is it?” I didn’t reply and only wonder how a man such as him found a way into Benjamin Aldebrand’s seat. After my silence, he waved to the empty space before himself and urged me. “Please, take the floor and present any issues.”

At the offer, I grinned to myself and stood to his challenge. Immediately, the side of the commons began to mutter in low worried tones while the benches filled with those bleeding the town away, spoke loudly at how ridiculous it was for me to speak; dressed as I was.

It was a matter of pride that made me move to the center and stand straight to face those staring at me, and then finally, at the mayor. “I propose the notion to assign the mercenaries to outer gates with restricted movement to and from their assignment and lodging, only.” At once, a roar of disapprovals sounded from the nobles and aristocrats while those that truly loved the town muttered and looked to me with disbelief and hope.

It was well known that though the mercenaries received a small stipend from the town, it was the rich that paid them more to act as their own private security to protect their homes from discontent common folk.

The mayor frowned and leaned forward. “Explain your stance, Ms. Ciders.”

[orphans]

“Over the past few months, the newly hired mercenaries have had free rein to move about the town as they wish.”

“I see no problem with this, they have the right to.” It was a fair statement, and I was willing to give the mayor that.

“True as that may be the mercenary crews have disrupted businesses and more than a few incidents have occurred within the town. I’m sure you’re aware of those.” The mayor shifted uneasily in his seat behind his desk.

“Hogwash!” Someone to my left spoke out. A posh looking, middle aged woman with lace spilling from her cleavage and her face plastered with makeup stood up and pointed a finger at me. “How can a lout like you know what’s best for our town?”

A single narrowed eye from me had no effect on the woman as she opened her mouth to speak again. Or was it to breathe because her corset was too tight? It didn’t matter to me; I intended to cut her off, “You should be saving your energy to entertain the mercenaries that walk in your home every night.”

The woman’s mouth gaped wide as the mayor shook his head. “Please Ms. Temberten, sit down and refrain from shouting out when others have the floor. Ms. Cider, refrain from such crude remarks and continue.”

“The mercenaries were hired to protect the town, but because they have free reign to do as they wish, they are causing more trouble than they’re worth.” A murmur of agreement from those to my right sounded out.

The mayor looked to either sides and then sighed. “We will review the notion and decide at a later date. Thank you for offering your stance.” Disgust welled up inside of my stomach at the decision. It would be another case to be written down, filed away, and then buried under the piles of paperwork never to be done. “Please step down.”

I returned to my seat and for the remainder of the time, the droning of various concerns and nothings continued until the seventh toll of the bell. During that time, I came to the realization of what a pitiable man the current mayor was and what sort of personal hell he was trapped it. He may have had genuine concern for the town, but like the rest of the common folk, he didn’t have the money to fund the mercenaries and to feed the soldiers.

The rich did, and so they controlled the power. Even if the Rangers believed themselves to be fighting for a worthy cause, they would find themselves in another war soon after with those who supplied capital. Such were civil wars led by idealists.

Like everyone else who loved Underwood, the mayor had no true say in what was to be done. Either he appeases the rich and loses the support of the townsfolk, or keeps the support of the townsfolk and loses the morale of the soldiers due to a lack of funding. Other intricacies were probably involved as well. I suppose that’s why I never bothered for positions that held political power.

Too much paperwork and dealing with greasy fat people was never my forte.

[orphans]

I found myself where I always went after the town meetings: The Sandbar’s Kiss. It was a tiny tavern on the edge of town and not very well known nor did it ever want to be. Especially now with the quality of mercenaries about, the owner did everything within his power to deter them.

He did a good job too.

Though, being the trickster he was, it was never hard to begin with. Aramith Arrie: gentleman, scoundrel, man of a thousand faces, fly on the wall, proud owner of The Sandbar’s Kiss, and the guy who threw up on my boots when we first met. An aged man, with his grey hair combed back and a clean cut beard. Still with the same athletic figure as well that his simple shirt and black pants complemented.

“Another meeting, eh Holly?” his usual question greeted me with an air of mischievous knowledge. “Heard you made quite a stir.”

I laughed and took a seat at the bar before him. There were two other regulars, Aramith’s men in guardsmen uniform today, sitting together at the back that both raised their glasses quickly to me. Having no glass of my own yet, I just waved back. “News gets around town faster these days, huh?”

“Just to me.” He spun a tumbler on a finger as he looked about on the shelves for something to give me. “Have a preference this time or am I choosing again?”

“I shouldn’t tonight, not after what I just pulled.” Air puffed from my lips to chase away a strand of hair that fell to my face. “Sides, I need to put the children to bed.”

“Same old excuses. You pull something at every meeting and the children will be fine.” The tumbler clattered onto the bar and continued to twirl as Aramith selected something and poured. “Fallien Firewater fine for you?”

Another chuckle as I picked up the drink and threw it down then set the glass back onto the bar. “Nothing good ever comes when you give this to me. Want to let me in on the secret?”

He returned the laugh with a glance at the doorway. “Something just tells me you’ll need it soon.” Pouring another shot, he motioned to it before moving off towards the door of the kitchen. “I’ll be getting out of the way. Oh, and before I forget, Jared came by to look for you.”

My gut told me that the strings of fate were being toyed with and as much as I resented being a pawn, curiosity got the better of me. Aramith was a good man, by most accounts, and while he never explained to me how he knew things, I trusted him.

His mention of Jared had caught me off guard though. Jared Olisborn was an avid drifter and self proclaimed bard. Terrible singing voice but he could strum a lyre as well as any elf. While I was glad to hear of his return, he had returned too soon and that usually meant trouble on the horizon.

Whatever the reason, my thoughts were interrupted as the oak door flew open and clanged against the wall. All eyes in the bar turned to the men entering. “Lookhee ere, de lady from the shellta.”

I turned away as the man’s voice grated in my ears. Aramith was right when he said I would need this tonight. I took the shoot and let out a contented sigh as it burned down to boil inside. “Ventuvi.”

[orphans]

My recall of Ventuvi’s name angered him. Most would have been pleased to have their name known, especially a mercenary. Behind him followed another group of men, five this time and from the souring look on Ventuvi’s face, he had been sent out to perform a task he didn’t feel he was paid enough to do.

Silence drifted about in the stale hot air that was beginning to fill the tavern before Ventuvi motioned for his men to move forward. They did so and the two guardsmen in the back stood with their hands on their hilts. “We jus wants ter talk to her,” Ventuvi said.

The two guardsmen looked to me, as if wanting a signal, but I shook my head. I may be an old woman now, but I could still take care of myself. Instead, a smile took hold on my lips as I faced Ventuvi. A cruel smile that had one of Ventuvi’s younger men shy back. “You boys want to talk? Let’s take a walk then.”

Once out on the street, Ventuvi’s men closed the door to the tavern and all six turned to me. The street wasn’t extremely lit as a solitary lantern stood behind me to the right, giving me a clear view of their faces while the light had mine casting strange shadows. Every one of them was unshaven. Even the youngest one, who couldn’t have been a day past his eighteenth birthday, had barely enough scruffs to pass for peach fuzz. All were in the same matching armor of dull bands of steel plates and chain underneath that ran along their arms with the standard soldiering long sword.

While some of them looked the part of a mercenary, I could tell they were as green as they came. They were thugs lured by the prospect of earning money by doing the only thing they knew how to do and young men seeking fame and glory. All of them combined? They might have had the combat experience of an angry warthog.

Even then, I was heavily outnumbered and unarmed. Six men flailing swords at me was not a prospect I relished facing. “Well Ventuvi, what did you want to talk to me about?”

He took the bait and stepped forward. “Yu’ve been causin troubles for someone we like. We’r here te make surr it don’t happen again.” A rancid smile graced his lips as he saw me wince. It wasn’t out of fear, but rather the way he spoke. If he confused it for the former, it would only work in my favor.

“Noted, are we done now?” My reaction stunned him as a few of his men chortled, making him lose face. They were instantly silenced when he drew his sword.

“Was told ta make it look like an accsident. Ill tell dem yus slipped to me sword.” Had the situation not been so serious, I might have laughed at the excuse he would give the next day of why there was a dead body in the street. Problem was the dead body was to be mine.

I never did take threats lightly.

“Hey boss, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Lander said he’d throw us out if something happened again,” the youngest one, chimed in.

“Wuld ya shuddup. We cin all take ‘er at once.”

Spoken like a true thug, but even a thug needed to prove his abilities or else his men would desert him or worse, turn on him. “You need that many to take on an old woman, Ventuvi?”

“What?!” The man roared out. “Fine, I’ll kel yu meself!” His men who had already begun to draw their swords, stopped at those words. I smiled and that only seemed to infuriate him more. “Stop lookin so happy!”

“But Ventuvi, I don’t have a weapon to duel you with. It’d be unfair for a strong man like you to face an old woman like me, while I have nothing.”

His face scrunched up and contorted in that realization. Had he won as I was right now, he would have proved nothing except being able to beat down and slay an unarmed old woman. His men would see nothing great in him. “Tobins! Let’er hav yur blade.” The youngest member, Tobins, widened his eyes in surprise, but did as he was ordered. It took a moment for him to disarm and toss the scabbard and belt to my feet. “Pick up an les go!”

“Let me get ready first, I’m old, remember?” Truth was I didn’t actually want the sword. I needed something to cut away the excess cloth of the dress I wore. When I drew the sword, I did so in the silliest fashion possible: dumping it onto the ground hilt first, scabbard in my hand. Some of the men laughed and pointed.

“Boss, you sure she can even fight? It’s like you’re pickin on grandma.”

Ventuvi’s face reddened and turned to his men. “Shuddup! She asked for the sword!”

“The hells she doin? Cutting her dress up?” Another said as he pointed for Ventuvi to look. In the span of a few seconds, I had detached both the long sleeves and cut away the skirt to just past my knee. A rough job, but it would suffice.

“Look! She’s got some sort of tattoo on her arm!” The furthest one to my right shouted to his leader.

“So wut? I’m a kel her now! She’s takin too long.” With a loud yell, he rushed at me with his sword whipping about in the hand held over his head.

Greener than the canopies of the Corone woods and though I was still an old woman, the Fallien Firewater burning inside reminded me that I was born a desert wolf.

And desert wolves always know how to kill, no matter how old or what skin they wear.

[orphans]

His first swing was wild from my left, arcing where my head was a full two seconds after I had already moved to his side. It was more than enough time for me to plant the loaned sword straight through his right foot and lodge it into a crack between the pavements.

Ventuvi screamed in pain, and just like any raw recruit, let go of his sword. I almost felt sympathy for the man as I caught the handle of his falling sword, repositioned and lunged upwards to punch through his steel armor and chain, right through his abdomen. His eyes widened with disbelief mixed with pain as his hands grabbed at me in a feeble attempt to… do something. A sharp tug withdrew part of the blade and a well placed knee into his jaw helped to wrench the rest out.

Four swords and one without…

He wasn’t dead, not yet at least. Well, I couldn’t be sure exactly. Years of docile living dulled my sense of accuracy of what might have been fatal and what was simply maiming. The remaining five stared in a mixture of surprise and doubted of the events before them: their leader, downed by an old woman such as me? Surely it was all a nightmare.

A burly fellow who had been at Ventuvi’s right hand side awoke from his daze first and gave the order I expected in the natural order of things. “K-kill her!” He drew his sword and charged and the three who still had their swords, complied and charged with him, screaming wild cries. The last, Tobins, took one step back and tripped on his own feet. Poor Tobins was probably witnessing his first real fight and experiencing jelly legs to boot.

However, a wolf, especially an old wolf like me, knew tricks. Instead of facing the obvious threat, I spun quickly and launched Ventuvi’s sword at the lantern. In the same motion, I grasped the sword impaling his foot and heaved it free.

My eyes closed, then the sound of shattered glass burst in the air, followed by the confused voices of the blundering mercenaries bumping one another. I sensed the familiar tug of a sadistic grin just as my eldest friend, the wind, offered a small summer breeze. The memorable caresses of air that drifted against my ears were all I needed to “see”. Each breath the men let out, every shift of their body, even their beating hearts…

I could feel them all.

“Stay together!” A wavering voice commanded; the same voice that had given the order to ah, kill me was it? It echoed in the quiet street, off the walls and his friends alike. From that I could tell they were a few steps behind him; a sheep separated from its flock.

Swift steps carried me quickly to him and in panic he swung down from my right. Again, I slid to avoid the slash, the air shorn apart by his blade hissing in my ears. Even so, I could hear a break between his plates as he lifted his sword arm again. A thrust rewarded me with the gasp of a deflating lung while the draw was accompanied by a fleshy, wet sound.

Three more…

By now, those that were left should have had their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Nevertheless, their movements reverberated stiffly after seeing the dark form of another friend fall. Inexperience combined with their own imagined fears were what I depended on now as I rushed the remaining men and hurled the sword from my hands.

Closing the distance was my best chance and satisfaction (with a bit of disappointment) filled me as one of them swore; the furthest one to my left. The telltale crunch told of the hilt crushing either his nose or a cheekbone. Following without hesitation, fingers of my right closed in and dug where his eyes should be. A high pitched scream, which could have been mistaken for a girl, blasted my ears. Always hated the slimy feel, but it was necessary as I forced my fingers deeper and pulled. The man’s body lurched forward; I loosened my hold and then twisted behind his form. Immediately, the unmistakable grind of two swords plunging past armor and a gurgle of blood from my improvised shield confirmed his demise.

Two left…

A grunt passed from me as I shoved the body towards the man on my left, who had yet to withdraw his stunned blade from his still warm comrade. The dead weight of the body would force the rest of the sword through and burden his friend (who was in hysterics by now). Surprise gripped me as the man on my right, seeming undaunted, began swinging with a crazed fervor.

Perhaps a decade ago, when I was still a spry and relatively young, I could have still easily avoided every cut and stab from the man before me. The near grazes and a moist line forming on my right cheek warned me to end it quickly.

My chance arrived as the man brought his sword arm too far up and swung down. Before it could fully extend, I caught his wrist with both hands, landed my shoulder under his elbow then pulled down hard while forcing my body up. A sickening snap of bone and ligaments (not to mention screaming) found his sword clattering to the ground. His knees collided with a dull thud upon the stone while his good hand fingered and scraped about for his weapon. “T-this can’t be happening. It can’t. It can’t. Damn it all, it’s all a dream. Please, please…”

The pain in my shoulder from the maneuver shrieked at my body. First time I had ever done it without being armored myself and unfortunately, his chain and weight against my cloth and flesh was a poor match. He continued to grope for what was already in my hand, sniveling and begging to be awakened from the nightmare. As much as I had enjoyed killing, twenty years of watching the children of others grow softened my heart. It would have been simple to decapitate the man, but like everyone, he was someone’s child once.

That and there was one final person.

The last had managed to free his sword and though he stood, I could perceive the rattle of his armor as both his hands, drenched and dripping with blood, held his sword. “D-don’t come any closer demon!” Imagination of the young was wonderful when it worked in my favor. Even so, the whimpering of the man beside me was distracting and a deft kick into his head silenced him well enough.

“Child, you have no idea what I am.” My hand tightened on the handle as I began to stalk towards the last.

“S-stay back!” The sword he carried sung a hopeless song as he brandished it about. Even his grip whined as if it would falter should anything impact his last line of protection. An invitation I couldn’t resist and with an abrupt strike, the sword slipped away and clanked on stone. He stumbled back into a wall and slid down, broken and weeping.

[orphans]

Enough was enough. My eyes at last opened and acclimated quickly to the dark. Hours spent chasing the little ones at night didn’t go to waste after all. Still, it sickened me to survey the damage I had done. At least three would survive the ordeal, and if they were smart, would choose a different profession by the next day. Truth be told, I saw myself in these stupid young men. I simply had more luck.

Rather, I was young, lucky and stupid, just not as stupid.

A stirring in the corner demanded my attention and I saw the form of Tobins with his knees pulled tightly to his chest. He had moved himself to a corner where the stonewall fence of a home met with that of a closed shop. Perhaps if the boy’s bravery had not depened solely upon the sword he gave me, I would be the one lying in my own blood. Such was the battlefield of any sort. Yet that was my gamble.

“Tobins.” The boy's only reply was a jerk of his head. “Get out of this while you still can.” Nudging the body one of Ventuvi’s men with a foot, I managed a sad smile. “Or find a better teacher.” He stayed silent but his eyes told me what I needed. A realization that the glory he sought also held hands with death. Be that as it may, I tossed the sword before him.

Exhaustion swamped my body half way back to the orphanage. The adrenaline seeped away drop by drop and soon, it was agonizingly clear that I had taken more punishment than I thought. The shoulder I used for leverage was bruising quickly and various cuts crisscrossed my arms. There was even a small gash on my lower right abdominal that I don’t remember receiving. Experience told me all the injuries were surface wounds. None of them posed a real danger least infection took hold.

Eventually, light became more abundant and I was able to see just how torn and bloody I was. Urgency hammered at me to continue moving as I was already leaving a splitter splatter trail of crimson behind me. Guardsmen would be following soon, or at least should have been. It bothered me slightly that no patrols even showed up with all the screaming and noise involved.

Even so, Aramith was no doubt spinning a story with the two regulars in his bar to protect my hide. The man could talk down a Thayne if he was ever given the chance. Tonight, it would be my task to get home undetected. At least, that was the plan until I heard a familiar whistling under the last street lantern before the trail to the orphanage. A dagger flashed in the warm glow of light as a man spun and caught it over and over. “Mighty fine night for a stroll, isn’t it?”

[orphans]

“Jared Olisborn.”

The dagger stopped and sheathed itself in one motion. Jared offered an embellished bow that made the ragged, drab brown cloak he wore flutter behind as wings. After, he stood and fixed his hat of holes over his head that failed to capture his shock-white hair. A quick adjust to his eye patch and stroke of his beard completed his greeting. “Thought you didn’t fight anymore, Holly.”

“Today was special,” I began walking again. He offered his hand despite the mess it would cause his palms. I took it and he motioned for me to lean on him. So I did.

“It wasn’t a fair fight, you know.” I stayed silent as we made our way slowly down the dirt path. “Those boys and I emphasize the word, boys, weren’t even proper mercenaries. Not like how we used to be.” There was a clear disappointment in his voice, but mixed with admiration.

“You were watching, weren’t you?” I asked after another silence. “Why didn’t you help?” He didn’t answer immediately.

“You didn’t need it.”

“And if I did?”

“Then I would have.” Such was the man Jared was. He was right though. I might have been less scraped up, but I didn’t need his help tonight.

“You came back early this month.”

“So I did.” Damn Jared and his games, but I knew better than to ask. I would find out soon enough. It was how he operated. It was how we all did.

Eventually, the path rounded a patch of saplings and revealed the orphanage. There was a single light still on and that made my heart turn to ice. “Who’s with the children?”

Jared’s hand patted my back to reassure me. “Don’t worry about it.” The agitation in my face was apparent as he just grinned like a loon.

“I assume they’re asleep.”

“Like a graveyard.”

“I don’t find that amusing.” He sighed in defeat and resigned himself to supporting me in silence.

Once in front of the steps, Jared stopped and kept his voice low to mumble quickly, “I’ll check it first.”

“I thought,” but a wave of his hand that closed into a fist was all the warning I needed. It was our universal sign something was wrong. My eyes narrowed and glanced to the brush and trees that surrounded the orphanage while Jared padded to the door. Gently, he grasped the handle.


Then nudged.


Achingly slow, the door creaked open sliver by sliver.


“You two are always so paranoid.” Jared stumbled, then crashed into the wall while I whirled around and threw a punch. It stopped short of the woman’s face, exactly where I could feel a gentle and calm puff of breath release from her mouth. Playful eyes inspected my knuckles before the head peaked around my fist. “Nice to see you haven’t changed, Holly.”

Jared sighed and shook his head, then picked himself up as gracefully as possible. I lowered my hand in slight embarrassment. “Sakuya,” I began and realized I had never known her family name, “What are you doing here?”

“She has something to tell you,” A few pops sounded from Jared’s back as he stood up straight. “At least that’s what she told me.” Sakuya smiled and motioned to the orphanage.

“Why didn’t you just come alone, Sakuya? I’m sure you could have slipped past the Underwood Watch without Jared’s help.” I assumed that’s why Jared was with her. He was well versed, especially in our younger days, in espionage and infiltration.

“And I thought you liked me Holly.” A mocking tone of injury flowed from the man in question before he disappeared into the building.

Sakuya only smiled once more and waved to the orphanage again. “There is a prepared bath for you. I figured you might need one.” I hesitated to accept the offer until Sakuya took hold of my hand. “It’ll give us time to talk. I promise.” Her words and more specifically, her action, made me chuckle as I allowed myself to be lead inside.

[orphans]

“You still didn’t answer my question.” Jared had left me and Sakuya so the two of us could have “bonding time” while he burned my torn clothing in the hearth. I knew he just wanted to search the pantry cabinets for alcohol to refill the gourd hidden under his cloak. It wasn’t to say he wouldn’t burn my clothing, but he wouldn’t until he found something to nurse while watching the fire.

A dipper balanced between Sakuya’s fingers, moving delicately and scooping up warm water to wash my shoulders. “Which one?”

“The one without an answer.” More water rinsed down my back, followed by a small scrubbing cloth.

“I like to travel with company.” It was an honest reply and at the same time, not. I had always been able to tell with Sakuya. Something about her voice just didn’t match when she was twisting the truth. Glass hit the floor from the other room, followed by a low curse. Sakuya had ensured me that the children wouldn’t awaken to Jared’s antics, but it still made me worry. Spells and weaving magic were her specialty and I only had necessary knowledge of how it all worked.

A sigh drifted as I submitted myself to being bathed by another in what was my room and office, operative word being was. Needless to say, I had been unnerved that Sakuya had managed to even covert part my room into a sunken bath. I didn’t question it though, not Sakuya at least. “Reminds of Akashima…”

“What does?” It was a normal and far too innocent response that always clashed with Sakuya’s hidden sage-like personality. Infuriating but at the same time, reassuring.

“This. It reminds me of meeting you back in Akashima all those years ago. Hell’s breaths, you even still look the same. I’m a bit jealous, you know?”

“Akashima girls age well. If I am allowed to say so, you didn’t do so bad yourself.” I laughed, churning the water with small ripples. Sakuya peered around with confusion practically dripping from her eyes. “I mean it.”

“Sakuya, my hair is graying and I’m slowing down. You, on the other hand, still look like the girl I found at a restaurant in Yanbo Harbor about to skip her bill, because she didn’t understand what coin was. Then we went to a bath and you nearly did the same thing.”

Sakuya pulled back with a small huff of indignation and the mumbled words of, “I still don’t see why everyone likes shiny yellow disks of metal. You can’t eat them and gold doesn’t even make good weapons. Ugly too.”

Honest and innocent and yet she had a way to manipulate the conversation in a thousand directions, and at the same time, none at all. “Still… even for an Akashima girl, you’ve aged remarkably well.” The dipper paused a moment before moving once more.

Sakuya was about to answer when soft thumps on the old wooden floor grew closer until Jared stood in the door frame with a grin of success. I narrowed my eyes at him and then followed his arm to a bottle of cooking wine. “Not the best stuff, but it’ll do.” He then took a sip and made a disgusted face. “Really not the best stuff.”

“Do you mind, Jared?” A formality, really, as I didn’t bother to hide myself. We had both seen each other bare plenty of times before in the past.

“Sorta. I’ll agree with Sakuya in that you’ve aged well. Still have muscle tone and not shriveled up like me.”

“Try raising flocks of kids for twenty years. Keeps you in shape.”

Sakuya made a motion to cover her mouth as hushed giggles escaped. “Jared, this is our bonding time.”

“Pfft, fine. This bottle will keep me company then.” Jared took another sip, smacked his lips in revulsion and turned to me with a, “this is your fault,” look. I shrugged my shoulders as he cocked his head to get a better glance at something on me. “You still have that tattoo on your right arm?”

“Don’t you?” It was an absentminded question as I turned my head to inspect the design. Of course he didn’t.

Jared brought a hand to scratch furiously at the back of his head. “I never went overseas, remember? Anyways, you were the only one that even came back.” The room went silent save for the sound of water falling from the dipper. Jared then mumbled something I hadn’t heard in a long time from him, “Sorry…” I nodded once, and then he walked off as if he carried the weight of all Althanas upon his shoulders.

“That is what I’m here to talk to you about, Holly.”

“About the Empire’s Guard or why no one else returned?!” I had turned around and yelled. Sakuya pulled back as her eyes wavered, then looked away hurt. “Sakuya, I didn’t mean to snap…”

“I know. Forgive me for what I’m about to say then.”

[orphans]

No one in our circle knew what Sakuya really was and she didn’t seem to either. If she did, her perpetual innocence of the world hid it rather well. Instead, she had collected a vast amount of titles, abomination, being one of them. Her spells were unconventional (from what I could understand) and differed greatly from the magic studied in Raiaera. Hell, in all of Althanas for that matter. No one understood it and Sakuya just accepted it.

She had even faced a great deal of prejudice from both outsiders and her own countrymen because of her abilities and uncommon wolfen features of ears and tail. The only people that accepted her without question were the mercenaries I once led. All of us at one point had been rejected from or simply did not fit into the norms of society. To us, she was just another lost person who became family and we didn’t care what she did if it was to keep us alive and kill what we needed. Even now, with the few of us remaining, those values still held true.

I would gladly die for her, should there be a need.

So when she asked for forgiveness I didn’t know what to expect. What could I expect? Sakuya was the only one who had never angered me for any reason in our collection of brothers and sisters. As she drew in breath to begin speaking I quickly placed a finger to her lips. “At least let me stop soaking and use the time to collect my wits.” Sakuya nodded and helped me out. A towel had been set out for me to use and as I did, a small breeze drifted into the room, carrying away the scent of soapy water. When I turned around my room had returned to how it once was with its cabinets and a bed, not to mention the floor.

Sakuya presented a worried face to me and held up both hands to show empty palms, “I didn’t break anything while they were in my pocket.” I had no idea what she was talking about and only nodded with a smile. If she meant she had stashed half my room inside her pocket… well, I found it hard to believe, but she’s good at what she does.

I dressed myself in the identical uniform that I had on earlier in the day and took the convenient chair by my desk while I offered the bed to Sakuya. She took a seat on the edge and rested her eyes on mine. Her mouth opened to start, stopped, thought for a bit, then began slowly, “You told me once that your father was a merchant - Fallien, yes?”

“Yes, I grew up on the trade ship my father owned.”

Sakuya nodded in confirmation, “But you have never been to Fallien itself?”

“I have a few times as a young girl. Once more on a contract before I met you.” Sakuya’s eyes continued to stay locked with mine, studying me. It was a story I had told her many times before and it baffled me why she was asking again.

Suddenly, she gave a smile. A miserable smile as she continued in a whisper, “Yet, you move and feel in the same fashion as a Fallien Desert Wolf without ever having known one. Why?”

“I…” but then failed to follow with anything else. It was strange to consider Sakuya’s words and their direction as I gave an uneasy answer, “Instinct, I guess.”

Sakuya shook her head. “You’re human, Holly, yet you’ve chosen to perceive the world more clearly through wind and touch, not by light and smell. Haven’t you ever found that strange?”

“Althanas is a strange world, Sakuya.” However, she had a point. Fallien Desert Wolves had a terrible sense of sight and smell while their hearing and touch were everything. They adapted to their surroundings while I was a human that learned their disposition. Rudimentary spells helped. But why did I choose to imitate wolves? “What are you getting at, Sakuya?”

The girl picked at the sleeve of her garment; a traveling robe of Akashiman make. “Did you ever know your mother?”

The change in subject made my back stiffen in annoyance, but then I remembered who I was talking with. It was a question she had never asked though and it made me feel inclined to answer; I didn’t. At least, I wouldn’t until she had answered my question first. “You still haven’t told me what all of this is about Sakuya. What is it that you’re afraid of offending me with?”

“Not offending you, afraid of worrying you.” Discomfort etched into her face and looked unnatural upon her features. It made the hair on my neck stand on end as I encouraged her to continue with a small wave. “The girl you call Azza, she’s left Corone.”

[orphans]

Sakuya must have seen the frustration as a sigh passed from me. “I am no longer her caretaker, Sakuya. You should be telling this to her parents.” I stood and began walking towards the doorframe. “I can do nothing for her now; her parents are in charge of her,” a feeble excuse, but fact. I was a mercenary. I am an old woman now.

“A white ship,” I stopped in the door frame at the words, “With black sails.” Sakuya’s eyes were cast to the floor to avoid mine as I turned.

For a long while, neither of us said anything and the only sound was an occasional cough or groan from Jared as he continued to sip the cooking wine. Finally, I mumbled the last piece to complete what Sakuya wanted to say, “Adorned with a blue flag.”

She nodded and raised her head, eyes burning with determination. “I know you’re no longer her caretaker, Holly, but you want to save her, don’t you? You know what’ll happen to her, as it did with you.”

“She won’t experience what I did,” was all I could muster.

“And if she does?” Our eyes met, glaring at one another. Then, something plucked at the corner of my mind.

“Why do you care, Sakuya?”

At once, the fury lifted and was replaced by the confused girl I had always known. “Because, I know you Holly. Should anything happen to someone you cared about while you could have done something, you would never forgive yourself.”

“What can I do? If what you say is true, then the ship is long gone by now. It takes Jared a week to travel to Radasanth, alone. I can only assume it would take just as long if he had you for company.” Sakuya just nodded and for once, her passive demeanor annoyed me. “I’m guessing you watched her leave on the ship before you figured to tell me.”

“They left a month ago.”

“A MONTH?! Thaynes be damned, woman. What in the hell’s circle can I do now?”

To my astonishment, she smiled and made for me briskly and took both of my hands into her own. “You are willing to try then, Holly?”

Somehow, Sakuya always made me feel at ease when she held my hands. They were warm and held a promise, no matter how frail, that everything would be okay. She was always like this. “Yes,” I finally said with a smile threatening to replace the grimace I had on, “I will try.”

[orphans]

Morning came as it always did. Song birds chattered outside the open window to my room while the sound of the early waking children drifted to my ears. The morning started as it always did and I was content to entrust everything that had happened the night before as a horrible dream. Not quite a nightmare, but close enough.

Three strong thuds on the front door broke that illusion as a voice shouted through the window, “By command of the Underwood Guard, open the door!” I got up quickly, still in the cloth of the previous night, and stalked towards the door.

The children that had not awoken began to rouse themselves while those already up looked to me with anxious eyes. I motioned for them to stay out of sight and then opened the door. I didn’t have to check if they would do as I wanted; it didn’t really matter if they did or not.

Four armed guards greeted me. To my surprise, the group consisted of Aramith’s two men from the night before, Lander who offered a quick wink, and an unfamiliar man at their formation head. The unfamiliar face wore a captain’s crest and puffed out his chest as if to accentuate the seriousness he wanted to exude. “You are Holly Ciders?”

I took a moment to study his eyes. Stern and mirthless, but his posture betrayed a tense and rigid state of mind. It was likely his first order having received his rank. Behind him, Lander made a quick symbol with his left hand that I recognized as my own, before motioning me to answer. “I am she.”

“We have orders to take you in for questioning. There are witnesses who say you were involved with a street brawl that ended with fatalities.”

Reflex made me grin as my head tilted to one side. “Surely there’s some sort of mistake. I’m an old den mother.”

The captain shifted his weight as he eyed the parchment in his hand, then back at me. “Whether or not there is a mistake, we have orders to take you in.”

“Oh come now,” a voice behind me sounded out suddenly, making all the guards flash a hand onto their hilts, “Holly was here all night. I can attest to that.” Jared pushed past me without much care as he stood before them in just his pants. It was evident that the years had not been kind to him.

“Who the hell are you?” The captain managed to ask after he had composed himself again while the others relaxed their hands.

“Jared Olisborn, a professional drifter, bard, and occasional companion to Holly.” He then gave an exaggerated bow before standing straight.

The captain looked to me, to Jared, then back to me. “Is this true?” I merely shrugged. “Then I’m afraid I have to take you both in.”

Suddenly, the town alarm bell rang through the air and smoke began rising in the distance. “An attack on the northern gate!” Lander made a quick motion to Aramith’s men to follow and dashed towards the commotion. They did so, leaving the captain to look at Jared and me with a scowl before running after the others.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to get the plan into action. Sakuya said she’ll meet you at old Jacob’s and Martha’s place.”

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” I asked as Jared moved past me to grab his tunic from a chair by the door.

“Because you care about Azza,” he replied, his clothes muffling his voice slightly, “and I’m better at keeping your flock entertained anyways.” I followed with a shake of my head, only to be greeted by the curious and troubled faces of the children. “Time for a speech.”

I shot Jared a warning glare before turning to the children, my children. They were all here now, twelve of them, the oldest just sixteen while the youngest was barely five. “I’m going on a trip,” it was an awful way to start, but good as any, “and I won’t be back for a while. Jared will be watching over you all for awhile. Behave and listen to what he says.”

Jared nudged me and whispered quickly, “Lighten your tone, sounds almost like you’re going to die or something.” I blinked my eyes and looked at the children. Indeed, what he said held truth, as the younger looked even more apprehensive while the older steeled themselves for imagined grim days.

I smiled as best I could, “A friend far away needs my help. I promise I’ll be back.” Lying to the children was harder than I imagined, but the fact was, I don’t know if I will survive this ordeal.

Jared decided to step in now as he waved his cap about and then pointed towards the backdoor before he began to run for it. “First one to the stream gets to try a new candy I got from Radasanth!” It was enough to get the younger children running out the door. The older children just looked to me and bid me silent farewells before following after the younger. They understood enough that something far more severe was at hand, and that they could do nothing to help.

But was it really or was I imagining all this to be more important than it actually was?

It would do me no good to dawdle now that the plan was in motion. First, I moved to my room and picked up a black oval stone that had served as a paperweight all these years: an inactive mana stone. It fit in my palm and was easily stowed away in a pocket. Second, a string of brightly colored shells from my desk drawer no longer than my forearm and no wider than a finger: currency where I was headed.

Finally, I moved to the front door of the orphanage and counted five planks over from the handle. Knocking it twice made a dull, hollow sound. Gripping the top, I wiggled the board back and forth until eventually it loosened enough to be pulled off with the single nail that held it on. Inside, cobwebs laced over the black leather handle and sheath of a katana: another old friend.

Pulling the sword free made the air crackle with a familiar noise and energy that made me truly smile. Drawing the blade to half length allowed me to read the delicate Akashiman script, May my enemies bleed more than I. Sheathing the blade again, I replaced the plank and looked out a nearby window to check if anyone was about. Nothing stirred save the grass in a light morning breeze and the smoke rising from the northern gate. It was a good time as any to make my way to Jacob’s and Martha’s place.

It was then on the windowsill that I glanced a length of blue ribbon. There were two such lengths: one worn by Azza to hold her braid and an extra here for whenever she visited. Both once belonged to the blood daughter of mine. I paused, and then took the ribbon with me as well.

[orphans]

I had fretted the options I had about entering Underwood proper as the orphanage wasn’t enclosed within the palisades, but I was pleasantly surprised (and disappointed) that the guards of the eastern gate were missing. Of course the gates were locked, but hopping a palisade without patrols was just as easy as walking in.

The early morning streets of Underwood were more akin to a graveyard, especially now with the alarm bell tolling in the distance, allowing me to make my way quickly. I could only guess to what sort of mischief Aramith had cooked up as I held the bundle of cloth my katana was wrapped in. As much as I thanked the Thaynes for allowing me easy passage, the lack of a crowd made me edgy. It would have been much easier to hide in the flow of people rather than sneaking around alone.

Soon enough, I found myself in front of the door of Jacob’s and Martha’s sundries. The name of it, The Horses Clap, always managed to make me grin at least. It was an old joke that Martha and Jacob could never get over. Remembering my purpose, I knocked twice, paused, and then knocked three times.

The door opened immediately and a large hand pulled me in before shutting the door quickly. “Gawds Holly, you sure took your bloomin’ time didn’t you?” My eyes adjusted to the dim interior and were met with the oval face of a rather bald and portly man who smelt strongly of peppermint, Jacob Alsbright.

“Don’t give her a hard time hon. Holly, want some breakfast? Sakuya just got in as well.” An equally round woman with salt and pepper hair pushed her husband aside and took hold of my shoulders to steer me away, whether I wanted to be lead away or not. Martha Alsbright, Jacob's ever loving wife.

“She always does to me…” Jacob’s pouting voice trailed after me as he bustled about at the storefront. They were opening soon and I assumed they wanted to have a guise of normalcy.

As we entered the back of the store, a cheerful Sakuya waved to me with her cheeks filled with whatever she was eating. Porridge, I would soon find out, as a bowl of it was placed before my seat. “Sakuya already told us what to prepare for you. Going somewhere cold, are you? ”

I glanced to Sakuya with suspicion as I never did tell her about where the ship went or what the weather was like. She didn’t notice as she was too busy pouring molasses onto her porridge. “Yes, somewhere like that.”

“Well, it’s all set up in the basement. I’m going to help Jacob in the front; you two dears just make yourselves at home, alright?” I nodded with a grin as she walked back to where I had entered from.

“Don’t you want some? It’s really good,” Sakuya’s muffled voice drifted to me through another mouthful. I smiled to her and shook my head. “Alright… but it is good.”

I was content to sit and relax as Sakuya finished her bowl, then mine, and with the last spoonful down, her tail swayed behind in delight as her arms stretched towards the ceiling. “Careful Sakuya or you’ll end up like Martha and Jacobs.”

“I will?” She was confused at what I meant and looked to the empty bowls. “I’ll end up married if I keep eating?”

Her strange jump of logic befuddled me to no end. “Never mind, let’s just get on with it.”

At once, Sakuya’s lips turned into a somber grimace, “To the basement then.” She stood up and bound over to the basement door behind me and opened it for me. “Holly, can I ask you something before we continue?”

“Yes...?”

“Did you ever know your mother? You never did answer last night.” Sakuya was right in that I never did answer it. Before we knew it, the conversation last night had spun away from her original question and resulted in this ludicrous plan. Without alcoholic influence I might add.

“No, Sakuya. I never knew my mother and my father didn’t talk about her much. Whenever I asked about her, he would just say that I would find out for myself one day.” It was strange that I considered my father’s words now. I was too young to care when he said it to me (it only aggravated me) and I was too old now to remember or care, until Sakuya’s prodding finally made me recall his words.

“I see…” was all Sakuya replied with as her voice trailed away in thought. Brightening once more, she motioned to the stairs before me, “Please, the ritual will take a bit.”

[orphans]

I had recalled the basement of Jacob’s store as nothing more than just extra storage and that it was always filled with clutter and junk. It wasn’t this time and Sakuya was kind enough to inform me that she had tucked away Jacob’s basement so that she could make room for the ritual. I didn’t bother to ask about the spell she used as I wouldn’t have understood if I did. I figured it must have been something similar to what she did with my room the night before.

Roughly cut sapphires were arranged in a large, near perfect circle on the floor with the center populated by glyphs and symbols of a language I was unfamiliar with. Colorful crystals lined the stone walls and gave off more than enough light to see everything clearly. A single tome sat upon a table at the far wall, its pages turning every so often by the hands of Sakuya.

Remembering that Martha had prepared me a few things, I left Sakuya to her reading and found the winter clothing in a corner on a stool. Setting the small bundle I carried with me on the floor, I picked up the furs to inspect them. To my surprise, they were the same style of clothing I had worn when I was away all those years. The deceptively light furs layered with metal scales for added security brought back unneeded memories, but I supposed it was better to deal with them now than later.

“Holly?” The voice of Sakuya drifted tentatively to me as she eyed the furs with both hands behind her back. “Everything is prepared now except the focus object. You said you had one, yes?”

“Oh of course.” I set the furs down quickly so that I could fish out the mana stone from a pocket. Sakuya’s eyes played over the black oval stone and reached forward with hand to pick it up gingerly. Another smooth motion brought forth a carefully painted porcelain mask of a wolf, the edges of the upper half draped with fur and feathers to form a flowing mane. “This…”

A soft giggle sounded from Sakuya as she danced back a few steps. “Don’t you recognize it Holly? I told you I’d keep it safe for you.” She didn’t wait for me to reply as she returned to her book and began flipping pages again. It took my mind a moment to recognize what I held in my hand and a few tears dropped without my consent. In an effort to stop myself I closed my eyes, but that was hardly the defense to hold back the cascade of memories.


Within moments, I could hear the gentle lapping of waves against the docks and ships of Radasanth. The cries of a seagull somewhere were drowned out by the voices of those gathered at the pier. Those following me all proudly bore the tattoo of the Empire’s Guard and wore the embroidered uniforms provided so that we could serve as elite representatives of Corone to an unknown land. Our friends who had chosen to stay behind were seeing us off, wishing us the best and not to get killed by the interesting people we were sure to meet. A deck hand called for us to begin boarding as the Sakuya from then, ran forward to ask for a memento to remember us by during her travels.


“Holly?” The Sakuya of now called to me, jostling me away from the memories. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have returned it?”

I shook my head and wiped away the tears as best I could. “I’ll need something to hide my face, just in case someone recognizes me.” My words elicited an empathetic nod from Sakuya.

“I’m ready to begin whenever you are, Holly.” With those words, Sakuya took her place at the border of the circle with her book in hand. It took me but a moment to change outfits and the familiar weight of my blade at my hip was a welcome addition. It had been so long I almost forgot the feeling. I was finally ready after I donned the mask over my face and let the mane wash over my hair and upper back.

Standing in the middle of the circle, I motioned for Sakuya to continue and braced myself. How long I stood there, I didn’t know. Sakuya just chanted something over and over in a mumbled voice, tome in one hand while the mana stone was held in the other. As the wait lengthened, my mind wandered with doubt about what I was about to do. Was I really willing to risk everything I had left to save Azza; a child that was no longer my responsibility?

I chuckled at that thought. Of course I am. Azza is my Sophia. She is as much my daughter as the one who died in the forsaken hellhole I am returning to: Se’ lutia, the Land of Holy Mana.

Suddenly a sharp sting shot through my chest, forcing me to clutch at my heart as Sakuya’s incantations became loud enough for me to make out. “Elders of the eternal Coil, awaken the forgotten blood of she before me.” Sakuya’s voice had changed to something light and ethereal, surrounding me, but crawled into my skull as pain lanced through my veins and limbs. Yet, I couldn’t move or cry out. “Lost kin to Farinma, may you fulfill the prophecy of the Kalvarus and become guardian to the Herald of Change.” The inactive mana stone burst with a torrent of azure light.

My vision faded as I felt the dirt floor beneath me disappear, pulling me down like a tar pit. In the wake of it all, a serene calm embraced me as Sakuya drifted to me one last time in her normal sweet and unassuming voice, “Stay alive, for both of us.”

[orphans]

Requested Spoils:

Those of still alive in Holly’s former mercenary unit, the Crimson Sands, have taken it on themselves to do their best to safeguard, at the very least, the children of the Underwood Orphanage in her absence. As such, this thread is in support of the Ranger Faction who has current control of Underwood.

Existing Members in Underwood:
Jacob (Jakuts) Alsbright – Owner of “The Horses Clap”
Martha Alsbright – Wife to Jacob
Aramith Arrie – Owner of “Sandbar’s Kiss”
Jared Olisborn – “Professional” drifter.

Also, those who wish to use any of the listed individuals above may do so if they poke me first, to let me know. Will be added to my profile as a small section for npcs~


No gain in gold (please)

[Silence Sei]

Story: 10. This was a good read that I thoroughly enjoyed delving into. Don't really have any more to say than that.

Strategy: 8. Wonderfully done, Holly’s way of goading her attackers into letting her have the advantage was amazing. What cost you more here is the mysterious circumstances involving Sayuka’s plan. I would have liked a little more depth into it. You may have done this intentionally, but it still cost you here.

Setting: 6. The Sandbar’s kiss could have been described a little better, I felt, and the orphanage just seemed to be there. I basically had to imagine the house from Annie because you didn’t seem to give me enough details about the orphanage to actually get a vivid portrayal. If you’re in a building, and your character is walking through it to answer the door or some other menial task, why don’t you describe some things said character is passing by as they reach their goal? Trust me, it’ll help.

Continuity: 8. Even though Azza was barely mentioned in this thread, everything not only kept up with what I knew of Mother Holly, but also provided a good bit of detail about the going-ons in Underwood. You did well describing the civil war, and its impact on the citizens. Overall, a good job, but I knew little of Holly’s past other than she commanded a merc group and her daughter died. Everyone else was given a little more thought into though, and it may help to describe some of the previous orphans that you have mentioned in your other threads, be them older or younger since said thread.

Interaction: 7. Holly and Jared had me laughing, but the random mercs that Holly had to fight seemed so cliché that it really bothered me. I mean, if you maybe had given a few names and personalities to each of them, the score probably would have been higher. As it was, though, the interactions between Holly and her would-be killers amounted to a little more than an episode of Ninja Turtles where Foot Soldier #1 actually gets to talk.

Character: 9. Almost all of your characters were fantastic. Your only misstep came from the thugs, which I listed the issues with them above in interaction, and that was truly for interaction.

Creativity: 8. Very well written and well thought out thread. The fight setup was your biggest mistake here, as once again, the introduction into the fight played out like a bunch of action movies in which the girl is the lead. Perhaps having Holly dodge while she was drinking the fire water just as a bottle came flying at her head would have helped this set up a bit more.

Mechanics: 7. There were a few mistakes sporadically placed throughout the thread, but nothing horrible. Going through word and then re-reading your post out loud, even in whispers, will help out here.

Clarity: 7. For the most part, your story was very clear, in the point a to point b format. The town meeting could have been described a bit better in my opinion, but I could understand every move in the fight. Also, saying this in a completely unpervy way, the bath scene should have been a little clearer, as I wasn’t sure what kind of bath Holly was taking with Sayuka.

Wildcard: 8. I thoroughly enjoyed this thread, and if not for those few minor issues of the genericness, I would have given you a 10 here.

Total : 77/100

Orphans gets 1700 exp, 0 GP, and ‘spoils’ pending ROG, I guess

Grats.

[Letho]

EXP/GP added!