Kayse (prime)/Vignette: Homecoming

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Small goosebumps formed on her sun-kissed skin as she walked down the gangplank of the small cutter, her eyes squinting through the sunbeams of the rose gold-hued morning light spilling through the treetops.  The air was cold and brisk which was unusual for the typical humid climate of the island town but it was still dawn--and the vegetation was riddled in a morning dew, which hinted at storms from the night before.  


Throwing her leather jacket around her shoulders, she took a deep breath inhaling the familiar smells of home.  Along with the rain-washed florals, the tanginess of the sea spray from the voyage lingered on her lips, a gentle smile painted her face as she re-adjusted her case on her shoulder and headed toward town.


She was hoping Cotuil was on her break for the morning.  As much as she enjoyed her conversations with the reiver, she had plans to attend to and idle small talk and complaints about Byron were not in her agenda.  As she approached the drawbridge, an audible sigh of relief exhaled out of her body, as Cotuil was nowhere to be seen.  


Another smile graced her lips, this time one filled with excitement.   A certain giddiness arose in her whenever she approached the main drawbridge into town.  The beams laid for that bridge had so much meaning to her.  They were the first and last thing she saw when entering or leaving home.  Of course, they also meant more to her as a native, the bridge Estamil built--the two lovers.  Reaching down, she rested a gloved hand on her vanity case, remembering that she must also visit the point and leave the stock pile of green tourmalines she had been saving. 


Her pace quickened, her heart beating a little harder against her chest as she approached the dirt path leading into the center of town.  Her feet were carrying her faster now as she found herself running before she stopped at the edge of the path, her eyes settling on a figure in the distance.  She stepped out into the clearing of the commons, the morning sun now higher in the sky and beginning to paint the rich green grass.  She cautiously approached the dark shape in the shadows.    


The sun warmed her body as she crossed the commons and she paused to take in the warmth a moment.  Stretching her wings out, the sun flickered through the iridescent champagne film of them, causing the membrane of the wings to sparkle in the light.  Stepping back into the shade, her eyes settled on the figure and flashed it a soft smile of recognition.


She whispered, but her tone was warm and inviting, “I am home, keh’nira fyr.”


Her native language still rolled off her tongue with ease, despite hardly using it anymore.  It felt natural to use it for things that held deep meaning to her, especially Rowmi.  Reaching outward she laid a palm on the bark of the willow tree, a small breeze lifted the branches that draped around her and she closed her eyes for a moment. 


She sat with the willow for the better part of the morning, her notebook spread across her lap as her quill moved lazily across the cream vellum, her back pressed firmly against the tree.  She was not really in the mood to write, but it provided something to do as she glanced around the commons, taking in the details of the land and people.  Leaning forward to rise, her mournbloom hair caught against the tree’s bark and she grinned widely as she glanced over her shoulder. 


“Fyr, I know you do not want me to go, but I must go do what I came here to do,” her tone playful as she tucked away her supplies into her case.  


Proceeding down the cobblestone walkway, she decided to take the longer route to where she was going next.  A part of her was still apprehensive about why she had traveled home.  Turning her gaze downward, she walked slowly--lost in her thoughts, her hand rising up to grasp the sephwir carved lily around her neck.  


Finding herself at the forested path to the cleric’s guild, she approached the now heavily guarded main entrance.  It had been months since she stood at this gate and had made plans with the guild and the town to protect any citizens who needed it from the Blameless. Removing another letter from the inside of her jacket pocket, she handed the envelope to one of the guards who nodded in recognition of her presence.  She brought good news, but still wore a heavy heart from the events that took place to claim it, but she kept her expression impassive.


The guard broke the mulberry wax seal, his clouded grey eyes darting back and forth as he perused the letter.  His eyes lightened as he glanced up at her, the small group of men around him curiously wondering what was enclosed.


“It is true then?”  The man’s voice suddenly cracked, pausing a moment to collect himself before continuing, “Chaston is dead?...Talador is...gone?”


The other guards gasped and looked around, a mix of expressions on their faces.  Inclining her head, the aelotoi nodded once to the man.


She locked her gaze on the one guard, his eyes were now glossy and the emotion threw her off.  Her brow furrowed for a moment before she caught herself and in a measured and almost rehearsed voice she said, “The level of protection the shrines needed is no more.  We may worship our patrons in peace once again.” 


The man nodded solemnly as he breathlessly said, “My sister and mother--”  His voice drifted off but she knew what he was going to say next.  Another guard approached the grey-eyed man and escorted him within the gated entrance, reassuring her that the word would be spread.


Nodding firmly she turned north, an arch of trees beckoning her to approach.  She felt reluctant, but didn’t know why, for she knew she had to enter.


With careful steps, she quietly made her way into the groove where the shrine of Aeia laid untouched, but heavily surrounded by local militia.


One of the members stepped forward saying, “We’ll give you a few moments.”


She could only nod at this point, knowing that by the end of the day, there would be no need to not feel safe in the town anymore.


The militia cleared out and she approached the altar, her own green eyes meeting that of the green eyes of the statue of her lady.    She awkwardly bowed to the shrine and kneeled, her movements not seeming as fluid as they do when it comes to swinging a dagger or writing a story.  This was still unfamiliar territory to her.


Fumbling with the clasps of her vanity case, she began searching through the pockets, a bit of anxiousness overcoming her as she cannot find what she needs.


She chuckled to herself as she thought, “Why are you so nervous?”


Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled, before locating the single green sapphire she was searching for.  Cradling the gem between her two hands, she sat quietly, the mild scent of earthiness and calla lilies filling the area.  Her brow furrowed in thought as to how to proceed next.


“Aeia…” her voice was hesitant and unsure, not a typical characteristic.


“Get it together, Kayse, “  she snapped at herself.  She opened her mouth but the words failed her, something else she wasn’t accustomed to.


She had seen Aeia’s power at work, so why was this difficult for her?  There were legends and stories, but Aeia’s strength, guidance, and love of her patrons had been witnessed first hand by Kayse.  The visions, the defending of the garden shrine….


Kayse’s thoughts raced in her head.  Images of that night--united comrades,  the moonlight bathing the blameless in a white glow, the coppery smell of blood spilled throughout the flora of the shrine.


Her hand squeezed tightly around the sapphire, although they had been successful and defended the shrine, the thought of Chaston and the Blameless still angered her.


Her thoughts changed to Talador.  The dissolute land...bodies of children and innocents piled upon each other...the bodies of the enemies motionless and melting away.   


She glanced away quickly, her eyes finally giving away the pain she felt inside.


She murmured, “So much has happened this year…”  A few tears fell from her eyes, she lifted her head slightly to the statue before continuing in a more confident tone.  “...You have surpassed the tales of your greatness and protected your people and town.  I am eternally grateful and I am in your service.  Meril.”


Leaning forward, Kayse placed the sapphire on the altar, a gentle breeze beginning to rustle the leaves of the trees in the canopy above her.  “The new perspective you have given me has been…”  She shook her head slowly searching for a word, before a warm smile curled over her lips, “...astonishing.”


As she pulled her hand away, the sapphire gave off an illuminated green glow and had not vanished as it typically does.  The gem had transformed from its double pyramid shape to a spherical one and now took on a hue of a deeper more vibrant green.  Running a gentle hand over the gem, she placed it delicately in her case as she whispered to the altar, “Thank you.”


It was dusk before she decided to catch the cutter back to the mainland, after four winterberry ales and catching up with Cotuil at the Stone Eye. The drawbridge was now bathed in a purple haze as the sun set over Maelstrom Bay.


Kayse paused.  Her pear green eyes roamed over the bridge, her gaze filled with longing.  She remembered the first time her eyes had seen the bridge--when she was new to town only nine years ago.  She had experienced so much yet seen so very little at the same time.  River’s Rest had molded the woman she had become in just those nine short years, yet in just a few months Wehnimer’s Landing had crafted her into someone she never thought she would become.  A half-smile formed over her lips, wistful at first, but as she turned to head in the direction of the cutter, a feeling of peace set over her.