Post by Stranger on Jan 24, 2011 22:21:52 GMT -8
(OOC: More a stand-alone thread to help me work out things, but open to anyone ^^ And please excuse the poetic license being taken in assuming the Eyrie has a weapons store....)
The spread was impressive - not as large as some stores she had seen in Sayaie or Chydyn, but much more balanced and specialised in its selection of blades and projectiles. Chosen and fitted, no doubt, for the simourv rider's life; and most of it in much better shape than weapons she usually saw elsewhere too. Clearly the Eyrie's craftsmen knew their work, were skilled and versed in the carving of blade from mold, the notching of arrow with metal-tip and thin feather shafts from some bird she didn't know. She picked up the long knife closest to her, the arched blade winking lines of light across her face as she turned it over for balance. Nice.
She could have avoided coming down today, despite H'tio's request - avoid for a little longer the grim reminders of the life she was now bound to even as she was Bonded to Portemmorreph. But there little point in that, she would only be putting off the inevitable. It had never occurred to her she might one day be a warrior. She was a breeder of horses and raiser of livestock - she gave life, and the few times she had been forced to take it were all part of the greater process of giving life or showing mercy. That had all changed forever; and the thought of facing the xymokoxi in battle - of facing them at all - make her want to throw up.
Her hand tightened on the knife as she drew in a breath. She flicked it back to its place on the table. Her hard brown eyes flicked to H'tio, examining a line of dirks three paces off, and softened. At least she was not here alone - even with Portemmorreph to comfort her, it would have been painful to have to go through what she did now with no one she knew from her old life. She still felt guilt for leaving Kendrick behind with the farm; they were all that was left of their family, they had no one to look to besides each other. She could only trust and hope that Tamia, that girl who had seemed to be taking an interest in her brother, had been as good as her word and stayed with him. Kendrick had seemed to think she would be at any rate, or he would never have let her go with K'huna so easily. Her breath came out as she realised she had been holding it, her mind recalling the letter he had sent her, the light feel of the paper as she scanned it for his reaction, his tears and his strength: Rainer (or R'iner, I persume), That is good news...
Emotion welled in her; she sank into that memory of her brother, so far away now and lost to her life forever. A blank, stifling darkness with no end. Abruptly, another presence lit up the shroud, pressed a name into her mind like fire.
Portemmorreph.
Mine.
The soft, lilting call drew her back. H'tio was coming back towards her with a long halberd tilting in one hand. He stopped a moment as his eyes met hers; emotionless they were, gray as mist, but she saw them harden. He laid the halberd aside against the table, came up to her.
"You alright?"
The concern in his voice was genuine; genuine enough to annoy. Her natural independence flashed. She wasn't a kid, she didn't need someone to mind her or be molly-cuddled. Shrugging aside her thoughts (and everything associated with them), she nodded as she looked away, avoid the pale gray eyes.
"Yeah," she tried not to fidget, choosing instead to turn one of the knives over in her hand, "It's, aye...this life we're in, now, this place...ye' think, we could ever make it?"
H'tio was quiet; avoiding his gaze, she felt it anyway, and as the seconds trickled felt more and more like she had asked the stupidest question ever. Why ask a former healer apprentice? What would he know of battle and animal husbandry and long hours in the sun (if anything, he was probably having a rougher time of it than her, though as a male he was physically stronger). She heard his come in a sigh.
"I don't know," came the honest admission, "And, well, if you want, I'm even sure how...we got here."
His hand entered her field of vision, fingers leaning on the knife she was turning, "But I do know I intend to stick it through, and survive. I'm not going to to die here, without a fight."
She looked back up at him, his eyes bright now with fire; his voice gentled, "And I'll look out for you...if you do that for me, too."
One brow raised as he spoke those last words, almost in humour - an acknowledgement of her independence and will. R'iner found, suddenly, that she was smiling. Then grinning; then forcing her lips back down as she drew back a step, turning back to the weapons spread before them.
"Well," she found her voice, found it steady, "We'll start, I'm guessing, by finding which o' these we're best t'at."
"Or maybe the Wingletmasters will just throw us what we're allowed to use," H'tio said drily.
The spread was impressive - not as large as some stores she had seen in Sayaie or Chydyn, but much more balanced and specialised in its selection of blades and projectiles. Chosen and fitted, no doubt, for the simourv rider's life; and most of it in much better shape than weapons she usually saw elsewhere too. Clearly the Eyrie's craftsmen knew their work, were skilled and versed in the carving of blade from mold, the notching of arrow with metal-tip and thin feather shafts from some bird she didn't know. She picked up the long knife closest to her, the arched blade winking lines of light across her face as she turned it over for balance. Nice.
She could have avoided coming down today, despite H'tio's request - avoid for a little longer the grim reminders of the life she was now bound to even as she was Bonded to Portemmorreph. But there little point in that, she would only be putting off the inevitable. It had never occurred to her she might one day be a warrior. She was a breeder of horses and raiser of livestock - she gave life, and the few times she had been forced to take it were all part of the greater process of giving life or showing mercy. That had all changed forever; and the thought of facing the xymokoxi in battle - of facing them at all - make her want to throw up.
Her hand tightened on the knife as she drew in a breath. She flicked it back to its place on the table. Her hard brown eyes flicked to H'tio, examining a line of dirks three paces off, and softened. At least she was not here alone - even with Portemmorreph to comfort her, it would have been painful to have to go through what she did now with no one she knew from her old life. She still felt guilt for leaving Kendrick behind with the farm; they were all that was left of their family, they had no one to look to besides each other. She could only trust and hope that Tamia, that girl who had seemed to be taking an interest in her brother, had been as good as her word and stayed with him. Kendrick had seemed to think she would be at any rate, or he would never have let her go with K'huna so easily. Her breath came out as she realised she had been holding it, her mind recalling the letter he had sent her, the light feel of the paper as she scanned it for his reaction, his tears and his strength: Rainer (or R'iner, I persume), That is good news...
Emotion welled in her; she sank into that memory of her brother, so far away now and lost to her life forever. A blank, stifling darkness with no end. Abruptly, another presence lit up the shroud, pressed a name into her mind like fire.
Portemmorreph.
Mine.
The soft, lilting call drew her back. H'tio was coming back towards her with a long halberd tilting in one hand. He stopped a moment as his eyes met hers; emotionless they were, gray as mist, but she saw them harden. He laid the halberd aside against the table, came up to her.
"You alright?"
The concern in his voice was genuine; genuine enough to annoy. Her natural independence flashed. She wasn't a kid, she didn't need someone to mind her or be molly-cuddled. Shrugging aside her thoughts (and everything associated with them), she nodded as she looked away, avoid the pale gray eyes.
"Yeah," she tried not to fidget, choosing instead to turn one of the knives over in her hand, "It's, aye...this life we're in, now, this place...ye' think, we could ever make it?"
H'tio was quiet; avoiding his gaze, she felt it anyway, and as the seconds trickled felt more and more like she had asked the stupidest question ever. Why ask a former healer apprentice? What would he know of battle and animal husbandry and long hours in the sun (if anything, he was probably having a rougher time of it than her, though as a male he was physically stronger). She heard his come in a sigh.
"I don't know," came the honest admission, "And, well, if you want, I'm even sure how...we got here."
His hand entered her field of vision, fingers leaning on the knife she was turning, "But I do know I intend to stick it through, and survive. I'm not going to to die here, without a fight."
She looked back up at him, his eyes bright now with fire; his voice gentled, "And I'll look out for you...if you do that for me, too."
One brow raised as he spoke those last words, almost in humour - an acknowledgement of her independence and will. R'iner found, suddenly, that she was smiling. Then grinning; then forcing her lips back down as she drew back a step, turning back to the weapons spread before them.
"Well," she found her voice, found it steady, "We'll start, I'm guessing, by finding which o' these we're best t'at."
"Or maybe the Wingletmasters will just throw us what we're allowed to use," H'tio said drily.
