Lost and Alone

~ Solo ~

Magic swirled around me with intense intimacy. How did I get here? Where was I? I recalled that familiar white trench coat, I remembered Shinsou. I remembered reaching out to him. Where was he? Where was I?

“Oof!”

I felt myself get sprayed with powdered, wet snow. Snow? In Corone? Wait… I just realized that the insane, blinding magic was fading. I hurt. Panting, I was surrounded by the crisp smell of cold. Oh, I ached, my arm bloodied and body wrecked from torture. How? Why? When? I looked up to a cloudy sky from the snow laden ground. As snowflakes fell onto my shivering body, I felt terrified confusion.

A growl.

My eyes widened. I turned my head. Where had those pine trees come from? Was that a wild cat stalking me?

A white saber tooth cat silently padded across the snow. It was like watching a house cat perfectly glide across sand without sinking. Its long hair majestically blew in the harsh winds. Snow flurries were the only defense between my helpless body and this creature. A low growl came from its parted jaws as it stood a mere several feet away. My heart pounded. I slammed my hand into the snow and tried to push up. I needed to get up!

Before either of us could act, however, a miracle happened. Out of nowhere, a hunter's spear slammed into the big cat's neck. It fell, instantly dead, its red blood splotching the white snow below. Still reeling, I fell back into the heavy snow that threatened to bury me. I was so confused... Yet, as cold sleep threatened to take me, I saw a fur coated figure stand above me. She was a stout woman, holding yet another spear in the cold.

"Well, ye look stout like one of us, but obviously you ain't. Where's ye's furs, wearing nothing but a shirt and pants!"

"I found some bags and equipment!" Another voice called from beyond my field of vision, "Must be her's!"

I looked up, blank and dazed. I could barely speak. The hunter leaned against her spear with an amused smirk, "Ye need a warm fire, don't ya?"

A warm fire crackled. I felt feeling slowly returning to my frigid body as I extended my purple hands to the licking flames. Snow melted around the firewood, revealing sloppy mud and cool stones. I huddled close to the roaring fire as the sounds of the cat being skinned sounded from behind me.

From the other side of the fire, the woman sat on a log. Behind her, a fur tent was rustling against the wind. The light was hastily dimming from the sky, and the woman was obviously ready for grub. The aroma of saber cat steaks cooking over this very fire was delectable to me, despite the fact that I didn't need to eat to survive.

"So," The woman adjusted the stone tray the steaks sizzled on with a stick, "Where you from?"

I blinked. I wanted to ask where I was now! I had no idea how I got here. What had even happened last? So confused, I pulled a hand from the fire and grasped my forehead. I could at least recall what my home was.

"I'm from Corone. Whitevale, specifically. I'm a general of the Brotherhood of Castigars. Heard of them?"

The woman seemed intrigued, but clueless. She shook her head.

I slumped in my seat, returning my hand to the fire's tempting warmth. I looked up to the dim, grey purple sky. I felt so... lost... A sense of urgency still pounded inside me, as if I needed to rush. Shinsou...

I still looked up, "I have no idea how I got here. Or what here even is..."

Obviously carrying a sassy personality, the woman motioned with her arms. I looked around, gazing upon the long dunes of snow. They stretched as far as the eye could see. It made me nervous. This was like a flat version of Eiskalt, without the protective mountain prisons looming over me. The landscape was exposed, like Corone, and for this arctic climate it was frightening. I looked back to the woman, who was scooping a steak from the stone top to her plate.

"Why, you're in Scavia, lass!"

Oh no! Salvar!

I gasped, reaching to hug myself then wincing. Man, I hurt! I had insisted on dressing my own wounds, knowing that my own blood was toxic to other people. The bandages and wrappings I had applied kept my blood inside my body, but did nothing for the bruises and bumps. How did I get so decimated like this? Why was my memory failing me?

From behind me, I heard boots crunching in the snow. I turned to see the man who had been skinning the cat walking up to the fire. He had a more golden skinned complexion, and I could sense a faint magic within him.

"I might have a theory."

I raised my head a bit higher in expectation. He bent down, pulling his blood soaked gloves off and enjoying the fire. "I'm descended from the Sinai, the Naurim to be exact. I can kind of sense magical energy because of it."

The woman snapped her fingers, causing my gaze to snap back to her. She wore an excited grin. "Yes! It was Annor who sensed you in the first place, lass!"

I looked back to the much calmer Annor, who reached up and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Nothing was there, then there you were. I think..."

I felt myself freeze at his conclusion, "You were somehow teleported."

"Teleported?" I mumbled in question. How? How could I have been ripped from Whitevale in such a manner? Yet, strangely, a memory trickled into my mind as if triggered by this.

"Fool! I'll send you straight to hell!”

"Huh?" I muttered aloud, looking down at my bandaged hands. Even the bitter cold of Salvar could not mask my physical pain. I realized that whatever sent me here must have inflicted these wounds first. Teleportation just... clicked. Yet, even more questions arose from this. Who teleported me? Why? And why did I feel this sick sense of worry? I remembered words, out of nowhere, from a familiar stranger. Yet, I had the feeling that they were not even aimed at me. Huh...

I looked up, my heart pounding as my gaze swept across my rescuers. I needed to get back. Now.

"I need to go home!"

The two hunters exchanged unreadable glances. Then, Annor turned to me with wary eyes, "You carry a deep magic within you. Are you sure you want to venture into Church owned territory?"

The thought frightened me. I could barely control my powers! What if they turned on accidentally right in front of a chapel building? I shivered from a chill even deeper than the icy weather could bring, but I knew I just had to get back to Whitevale!

I nodded, "If I have to!"

Annor took a stick and started poking at the fire, trying to keep it strong. "The Naurim worship old gods and are deep in magic. My tribe tried to keep our traditions throughout generations, but the Church of the Ethereal Sway snuffed my ancestors out."

Sadness seemed to glaze his eyes as he looked up at the woman, who gazed upon him with sad sympathy unlike her sarcastic self. "I'm one of the last. Sash here has been my only friend for many years, she's an outcast of her own Skavian tribe. We survive together, in Skavia. We avoid the border of Archen at all costs."

I blinked in sadness, understanding that feeling of isolation too well. I had been an outcast in my own place of birth, a long time ago. Sash took the plate of steak and handed it down to Annor, who eagerly took and ate. Sash looked back to me, "We prefer the dangers of Skavia to the dangers of Salvar, but we be close enough to the border. Ye may stay with us for the night, and we'll get ye winter hardened. Be warned, however, of the dangers, lass. Skavia is wild and free, but Salvar is a prison. Flee with haste, and ye may break out."

"Try and walk, Felicity"

The familiar voice echoed in my mind as I dreampt a shapeless, formless dream. Shinsou?

"Felicity, listen to me."

This was not some imagined enigma or magical mind play. I could just tell the voice was from a memory.

"Hey, hey, hey. Listen to me."

I squirmed in my sleep. I felt his sympathetic care and desperate plight in his rushed tone of voice.

"I didn't recruit you because I didn't believe in what you can do. I don't bring losers to Whitevale."

I awoke in a hazy daze. I looked up at the tent skin ceiling, held up by a bone spike. Here I was, lost in Salvar again. It was cold, and I needed to get up.

I flung the heavy fur blanket off of me.

I pulled open the animal hide flap of the tent. I was met with a landscape laden with sparkling snow, spanning forever and ever. I gulped. On this brisk morning, I would start my long journey home.

Thaynes help me, if you can hear me!

From a smoldering fire nearby, Sash ran towards me with a furry lump in her arms. I realized that I recognized the saber tooth cat fur from yesterday. Sash grinned as she skidded, spraying some snow on my pants.

"Hey!" I took a step back, but felt enticed by this playful energy. I was so tempted to kick some snow back at her, but the situation was far too dire. Sash did not seem to notice, however, as she held out the bundle, "Ta da! Some proper clothes, you little stripper!"

I felt myself flush in embarrassment. I had never imagined in all my years that I would ever be called a stripper. My heavy shirt and loose pants covered plenty! Yet, I reached out and took the soft furs, coming to the understanding that this was an entire outfit! Still flustered, I hastily nodded to Sash and reentered the tent as she laughed.

As I dressed, I still felt the effects of minor bruising. Thanks to my connection with magic, I had practically healed overnight from my injuries. One or two of the bigger cuts and bruises remained, but were rapidly healing themselves with no time to leave scars. If only my healing factor could bring my left pinky back... The glove I pulled on humorously flapped in the empty pinky sleeve.

I was newly garbed in Salvar appropriate gear. I was ready.

When I came out again, I felt a lot warmer. The heavy furs covered my entire body. I was snug within a white coat, furry pants, and winter hardened boots. My gloves covered all of what my long sleeves did not, and I wore a white cap I had to admit was cute. Pulling a mask over my mouth and nose, I walked over to the fire where the nomads were exchanging warm drinks.

Annor looked up at me from the fire and nodded, "Looks good."

"Hey!" Sash gave Annor a jealous swat on the arm before taking a sip of her drink. Then, she looked up at me again. "Need anything else, lass?"

I looked over to bags and equipment I had, all laid against an unright log near the fire. How all my possessions got transported with me, I did not know. Still, with the skins of water added to my bags, I had nothing else to require. It was humorous, looking back to explaining to them last night that I did not require food. They had only given in reluctantly.

Now, under the pale blue sky, Sash stood up and walked over to my belongings. I walked over, and she started piling my stuff on top of me. She recited her instructions to me, direct and on point.

"Walk south, stay on course. Once ye see Archen, veer to the left. Avoid Archen, the Church is there. Walk for several miles until you find the smaller town, Ice Peak's Tip. The Church is less likely to mess around there. Once ye in, find a guide or map maker. From there on out, head to Tirel."

I finished strapping my swords to my chest as she fastened my alchemy kit to my side. We locked eyes. The lone Skavian blinked, "Got it?"

I nodded firmly. "Yes. Thank you for everything."

Sash smiled, "We rarely get to see other travelers. It was a pleasure serving ye."

I felt the smallest hint of friendship with her and Annor. I could relate to their stories, and I admired their walk of life. It was a shame we should part here, worlds away from each other's destinies. I remembered Nevin, Yvonne... Friendships I had forged, just to lose them to gaps in time. I may had lost them, but Shinsou Vaan Osiris burned in my mind. I would not lose him. I would return to him. I reached up and rubbed my eyes. Salvar was too cold to cry, or my tears might freeze on my face! I looked ahead to the direction Sash pointed me towards and sighed.

This was it.

"Goodbye." I took my first step into the snowy wastes. My journey to Corone had begun...

Indeed, Salvar's tundra was a battle to fight. Unlucky for the grueling landscape, I had grown up on the equally arctic island of Eiskalt. I had climbed Eiskalt's tallest mountain. I had been from Corone to Raiaera to Dheathian. I had survived every region, even without purpose and as a wandering nobody. Now, I had a purpose. I had a home to return to and a mentor to serve. I would survive Salvar too.

My thoughts swirled inside me. I kept trying to think back, remember. Memories simply were out of reach. I could sense intensity inside, the feeling of one desperate scenario after another. I needed to get home, and that was all I could piece together.

Through the snow dunes I climbed. The bitter cold was something I was used to as I pushed on. I struggled not to slip on ice. I powered through the knee-deep snow threatening to pull me under. When I finally found the canopies of pine trees, it was mid-day. Under the trees, I slowed and brought a water skin to my lips. When I picked up pace again, I was sweating inside my heavy fur outfit. Nothing accompanied me but the sound of wind and my boots crunching the snow. I trekked ever onwards...

Eventually, I spotted a mountainous area with a slumbering city ahead. Archen. I shook my head, knowing that danger awaited me in the city. I stopped and took another drink, staying hydrated. Once I made it to Ice Peak's Tip, I could magically quench any hunger before setting out for Tirel.

I turned in the direction of the small town, according to Sash's directions, and started on the long trek. I left Archen's hearth behind for more frost. This trip was easy, save the long walking. I was blessed with good weather as I marched for hours. By the time the sky was beginning to dim, I finally spotted a hamlet in the distance...

I dreaded walking into the town. I was welcomed by the sight of a half demolished sign and - wow! That stench! Trash and horse dung cluttered the streets. The snow piling on top of it just made it wet and worse! I swallowed bile rising in my throat from the revolting odors. Dirty snow piled in front of sagging houses, their frames rotted, broken windows boarded up. I passed a single street performer, strumming a lute as he leaned against a pole. He eyed his empty tin cup, singing out of tune.

"We are the chosen
By the Sway are we blessed
In this bitter tundra
We are called to their requests

Purity inside us
By the Church, guide us
We are the chosen
Their words locked inside us"

Before Shinsou found me, I had felt rock bottom. I had no coin, but I offered him a sympathetic look. Sadly, his gaze was fixated on his cup. I walked down the miserable pathway. Mud and what I hoped was not poop splattered my boots and pants. Oh Thaynes, now this awful smell would travel with me!

I walked next to a half destroyed wooden fence, gazing around the pathetic trash town for my goal.

I scanned the wooden houses for any sign of an inn. I passed two grubby children making a muddy snowman, their mother watching from the steps of the house with bored, dead eyes. I turned a cluttered street corner and finally saw an inn. The Debauching Hut.

What a quant name.

A tarp covered a broken window and a beam was left where it fell on the porch. Of course, the trash tavern did not help. This town was far from welcoming. I could smell the poorly brewed, potent alcohol from here.

With a shudder, I walked towards the building. Stepping into a deep puddle on the way in, I was eager to get on the road again once I got my map.

The dim lighting of the tavern left me feeling blind. I was quite disturbed by the sound of pleased moaning. The dim fireplace had enough of a spark to light the edges of the inn. A half closed door seemed to have a couple in the middle of that deed. Thankfully, the bed was not visible and it was too dark to see the dresser as a man chuckled from within. It was still disgusting. I still could not understand the lack of dignity that could cause a woman to sell herself like that. In the corner, two drinking buddies gambled away in silent misery. The tables were set unevenly, the chairs half pulled out or turned over. It felt more like a forest in here than in the actual pine forests I had recently navigated through. The tables were splattered and polluted with drinks, dishes, and other kinds of ungodly slop left behind by customers. It appeared as if this place had not been touched with a cleaning rag for weeks. The sound of the persistent dripping of a leak echoed across the entire room. It was hard to believe, but this tavern was even more out of shape than the rest of the town.

At the counter, a sloppily dressed man talked with a half dead looking inn keeper. The guest noticed me before the tender. "Aye, traveler."

In a dead, monotone voice, the inn keeper muttered, "Want anythin' ta' eat, or whatev'r?"

Oh no. I did not trust any food from this place - if there was anything edible here at all. I shook my head and got down to business, "Does this place have a map maker or anything?"

With a smirk, the customer pointed at himself with his black tainted thumb. "That's me. I can give you a map for free if you give me a night."

I scowled, my chest fluttering with dread as I spout, "I would literally rather die in the wilderness."

"Aw..."

The inn keeper scoffed, "If ya do an'th'r job fir' me, I could buy a map fr'm 'im."

I turned to the inn keeper with a raised eyebrow, "Hmm?"

"We so close ta' Skavia. That damned church nev'r 'elps us. A drake 'as b'n wan'd'rin' teh close ta' town. Kill it, I'll git' yur' map."

So, here I was. In the middle of the night. In a flurry. How fun.

The snow half blinded me and the wind chilled me, even with my winter gear. Holding my talymar war bow, Seeker, I snuck up to the entrance of a small, shadowed cave etched in a lonely, large boulder. I had gathered enough information on this species of weaker drake. I knew how to take it out.

This fight would end quickly. Not that I did not hate it out here though.

I cupped my free hand and whistled, the sound drowning out of whirling winds. As the sound echoed across the endless snow banks, I heard a reptilian hiss from the cave.

Yes. Come out!

I reached into the quiver on my belt, grasping one of my redwood arrows inside. My magical affinity flared; I saw the spark of light in the undying darkness. I leapt aside, sliding my boots in the snow. A flare of trailing fire flung out towards the location I had been in a moment earlier. I could see the beast clearly now. A wingless, bipedal beast twice the size of Dheathian's komodo dragons. I plucked my arrow out and placed it in Seeker's string. The long necked lizard reared its head up. Beneath the outer, hardened white scales was the tender blue underbelly and exposed chest. That was my target.

I drew Seeker back, taking aim at the animal. I let go of the arrow, reflecting on my end goal. For Whitevale...

The arrow easily pierced the drake's heart, killing it instantly.

"I'm going to offer him a deal, out in the open."

Huh?

"The contract is that he gets my body, you two live and he walks out of here."

What?

"But here's the thing; once he's in one place, in one vessel..."

Wait...

"... you get him..."

No...

"... and put an end to all this."

No!

"Not again!" I shrieked, only to be hit with waves of dissociative confusion. I was nestled in the cradle of a rock, huddled within mounds of sleeping bags and spare clothes. Cold sweat coated my frame as I looked up at my extended hand, which just brushed the tiny roof of the rock's crack. Still, the desperation, insanity, and denial flooded me.

"Not..."

I panted.

"... Again?"

...

I looked around. The cave - well, crevice - had clear sunlight bathing the constricting grey stones in warmth. Warmth was a rare thing in Salvar. Two weeks of traveling had proved that. It was a blessing to have a warm fire. I had not risked lighting a fire outside this tiny hole. It could have attracted wild animals, robbers, or even the witch hunters. I struggled to get up, a shirt falling from my leg to my neck. After some struggle, I clasped the rocks guarding the hole the sunlight shone in from. Beyond the rocks, I had piled my bags over the entrance to prevent wind and snow from blowing in. They had done the job well. Pushing a bag off the mound, listening to the sound of my clanging belongings, I finally peaked my drowsy head out of the pathetically small hole I had slept in last night.

I was at the edge of a cluster of large, grey boulders. Snow was piled on top of them, making them appear even higher than they actually were. Down the rolling hillsides of pure, white snow was the path. According to the map, I was exactly on course.

Down the path, close enough to get a good look at, was another settlement. Far more populated, dignified, and well cared for than the trash heap I had gotten my map from. I had avoided most towns and cities, still terrified of the church somehow catching me. Unfortunately, I was almost out of water, one of my swords needed sharpened, and I had torn one of my fur boots on a prickly bush several days ago. The tear was growing every day from lack of maintenance.

I managed to pull my muscular, big boned body out of the hole. I heard a snow falcon cry in the distance as I shivered. Feeling that familiar cold wind, the first time this morning, I bent down and started pulling all my blankets and clothes out. I knew I needed to go to the city. I had to. Of course, knowing fully well that the Church of the Ethereal Sway would be present, I was flooded with anxiety.

I would have to be careful.

For the first time in weeks, I actually tasted coffee.

Bringing the creamer flooded travel mug to my lips, I got whipped cream on my face as I walked through town. I was surprised over how smooth this went. I had taken care of everything on my list, plus more, without a hitch. Thank the Thaynes for heavy, covering clothes! Even when I brushed my arm against a sharp table edge in a store earlier, it barely pierced the arctic skin or removed tufts of fur. I licked my lips, happy to make way through town towards the exit.

Hammer's Blunt was a far better of an establishment than that trash town from weeks back. The streets were made of cobblestone, some shattered but most in good shape. Snow and mud made the roads slippery and slimy, but that was something I was used to. The stone buildings, with tile roofing, were lined with blue township flags, official church flags, and nationalistic banners. It was hard to believe Hammer's Blunt and Ice Peak's Tip were in the same country! It was potent, smelling horse dung and delicious baking breads at the same time. I brought my sweet hazelnut coffee to my nose and focused on sniffing that.

Downtown, I had stepped away from the busy market. I had been pointed towards this direction for the south gate, my ticket out of here. The insulated two-story buildings loomed over me. Small crowds were clustered here and there, dressed in winter garbs. From a square window above me, a teenage girl merrily shouted down to a lover, who listened as he polished the doorknob to their house. Taking another sip of my coffee, I was relieved that some people in this country had a good life.

As I continued on, however, the atmosphere changed. Shouting resounded from the curved street corner. The raised voice, as if making a speech, commanded revered stillness across the entire block. Some girls were gossiping in hushed tones, but most people were respectfully quiet. Most of the people on the streets were eagerly walking towards the voice, though some walked away.

I used my free hand to adjust one of the bags on my shoulder as I strained to hear. Eventually, the words were audible.

"Behold! Our allegiance to the wisdom of the Ethereal Sway guides us! We follow the light and purity of their standards!"

Oh no...

I turned the corner. A crowd made it hard to see much. A magnificent feudal chapel towered above the rest of the two-story buildings of the block. Lost in the crowd, a priest shouted as monks circled the praying crowd. My hand shook in fright, forcing me to hold the mug with both hands.

"We must rid ourselves of impurity! We can heal ourselves from disease with the Sway's power! Those cursed with the wretches of magic, let us cleanse you of your woes! Seek forgiveness, be healed, and bathe in the approval of our spiritual gods!"

The crowd was large, and all wrapped up in the priest's chanting. Adjusting my hat, I walked close and veered towards the edge of the crowd. I felt my heart pounding. As the priest continued his sermons, I squeezed my coffee mug. It was cold, but I was sweating.

Still, I was lucky. I made it to the other side of the crowded area with no notice. Freedom was near! I just needed to walk down the rest of the street, then I was safe.

Then, white robes jumped in front of me. I stopped abruptly and looked up. Garnished in religious trinkets, another priest stood in front of me. His tall, colorful hat was a tower blocking my way. He clasped his hands together, "Child, why such a hurry? Are you not intrigued by the Ethereal Sway's blessings?"

I might as well have been somewhat honest. "I'm not from around here and need to get home. I'm in a bit of a hurry here."

The priest slowly, steadily blinked. "Ah, yes. The rushers. They go to and fro without stopping to observe the Ethereal Sway's teachings."

I don't worship your stupid Ethereal Sway! "I really need to go, sir."

I felt the pressure of the crowd behind me, and the towering priest before. Claustrophobic, they pressed in under the Cathedral's looming dominance. Would my secrets be discovered? My head whirled. I felt light.

The priest leaned in, a little too close. I took a step back as he spoke, "I sense tension, child. Do you hide your sins?"

"No." I barked, panting, "I need to go!"

The priest leaned closer. His breath was warm and uncomfortable against my neck, "You hide. You run. But you cannot escape the shadows of your forbidden powers. Run while you can, for we hunt the unrepentant."

I dropped my mug. The coffee splashed on the ground and his robes. He was unmoved, he just glared into my very soul.

How does he know!?

I ducked and veered, kicking the empty mug. As voices berated harshly behind, I ran as fast as I could towards the city gates.