Scarlet

Images passed before me, countless moments that were gone as quickly as they appeared, every day of my life see but for the flicker of an eye. I was caught at the center of a maelstrom, thoughts, emotions and memories all thrashing about me like wild beasts. I sensed a struggle of titanic magnitude and felt as though I was going to be be torn asunder. Then, as suddenly as it had began it ended and only darkness surrounded me.

I seemed to float there for a moment or an eternity, it is hard to tell which, but then light seems to gather about me and beneath I could see the cold hard floor… the only sensation I could feel beneath my naked skin. My eyes flickered open.

I remember cursing. I remember being cold. I remember remembering how to move my head, open my eyes, part my lips.

“You are alive… provided for… brought here by him who I serve … dark forces amassing … betrayed … gathers servants … twisting them … betrayer … destroyed Telantha … Here is Heas … Here is Heas … Here is Heas … “

That must be where I am. He neglected to tell me a lot. The name of the town for starters would of been nice. But hey.. who am I to be picky. I have a new life and purpose, even if I cannot really remember the old. Except for His face.

Unfortunately for me at the time, Taliesin did not go after a little while. But in fact stayed within Yarsin for quite some time. I ran into him several times, and he looked suspiciously upon me, but it was not till some time later that he managed to work out who exactly I was. To my surprise, he did not drag me kicking and screaming back to Yarsin, but rather … I don’t know.. he hung around. It made me wonder whether it was my Mother that sent him, knowing if I came back that I’d be in no end of trouble, but wanting to make sure I was okay.

He looked different now, though only six months had passed. More confident. Older. And despite the fact he did not attempt to drag me back kicking and screaming to Yarsin, much of the time I remember being spent in arguments. He disapproved in much of my activities, and many a time we met resulted in a shouting match with each of us trying to assert a sort of authority over the other.

He stayed with me in the camp outside of town. And after a time, I found it easier to just not tell him everything. After all, what he did not know, would not hurt him as the saying goes. But unfortunately, due to their nature, not everything could be kept secret. Not when I was being sent to Annwn at an almost weekly rate. I do not think he approved of Kvaell’adyr, though they did not cross paths often. And I am sure that Taliesin was glad that I got rid of Trelon. Thinking about it, I must of gotten things mixed up somewhere if Taliesin was still about when Trelon was.

That’s one thing about Annwn, even when you come out, things that happened prior seem to get mixed up a lot easier. You forget things, or remember things not quite the way they occurred. It can be confusing and very dis-orientating not knowing your own mind. I should know. I’ve been there enough, and with the plague…

Here is where the order of how things happen start to get a little mixed up. I know Taliesin arrived in Telantha around this time. I know things between me and Trelon started to decline and I started to see more of Kvaell’adyr. Did I mention that was his name? I had thought it sounded so sophisticated. I think someone my family would no doubt of approved of. But anyways, if things are a little muddled here, forgive me.

The fall out between Trelon and I came from an unusual source, Kvaell’adyr himself. He arrived at camp whilst I was there with Trelon and dropped hints and innuendos until eventually he took me aside and told me of Trelon’s treachery with a mage who was also a Vek called Celestine. All in the name of ‘protecting me’. It was bullshit of course. I wouldn’t sleep with him, so he went to someone else who would. I did not suffer Trelon’s company again after that. Though that did not stop him from trying.

I guess I am a bit uptight when it comes to that sort of stuff. My strict Telanthan upbringing. The whores of Yarsin and the debauchery that went on there sickened me to no end. I swore that I would not become a part of it.

Again Kvaell’adyr continued to look after me. There were several attacks on the camp by the Tyen, and almost each time he was there, or not far away. I say almost as there was one particular incident that stands out in memory when he was not. But I do not know if I want to talk about that now, if ever. It is a part of this tale, but… we shall see. Perhaps next time.

The first time I saw Taliesin in town, I hid and then ran. I figured he was there because my parents had sent him for me. And being that I had no desire to return to what I believed was a hang-mans noose waiting for me, I took great efforts to avoid him. The masquerade once again taken up and greater care taken with my appearance and my actions. I had less need to go into town now, there were always others in camp that could go in my stead.

I lay there for several hours expecting the door to burst open and that charcoal skinned Tyen to break through. But it didn’t happen. Not that day, nor the next. I was scared to leave the campsite for fear of running into him in town. So I remained caravan-bound for at least a week. Trelon visited, as did a few others, but otherwise my contact with the outside world was fairly minimal. A fortnight passed before I left the place, the hood of my thread-bare cloak drawn down enough that I hoped my face would be shielded from prying eyes.

I had intended the trip to be quick. Just straight through, pick up some supplies and straight back. But as ever, my luck was not with me and somewhere between the bakery and the gates out of the city the sky released a torrent of water. I ran for the inn, intending to shelter there and ran straight into Shalin and his Mistress. They recognised me immediately, my scarlet hair, clinging to my cheeks was distinctive enough.

The packages fell from my arms and warm brown rolls spilled across the ground as I immediately leaped over one of the couches, narrowly avoiding some sort of fire spell released by Brana. Shalin was pulling his sword and approaching fast. I had not the time, nor the ability to cast anything that would prevent what was about to come. I turned my head, looking for some familiar face, or someone who might offer me aid.

And there he was. The man I had been stalking for the past few months. I had only a few seconds as I scampered out of the reach of the oncoming blade, attempting to avoid being hit whilst at the same time pleading with this virtual stranger for my life, for his aid. I offered him gold, but he said he had no need for it. I offered everything and anything. I don’t know what it was that eventually resulted in him agreeing, but he did.

And from that point on he was there. Never too far away from my side. Protecting me. Each day increasing my debt to him. But to say that it was all simply because of a debt would of been a lie.

 Trelon… I believe I mentioned him before. A friend who was much more of a mage than I was. Though he tended to focus in a different area, concentrating on scribing scrolls and brewing potions much more than the actual real invocation of Kha itself. We had grown closer, not quite a relationship as such, though he was very much pushing for things to go further, but rather a sort of affection between friends.

But then, within one of the alleys in Yarsin himself and a couple of others were set upon by a group of Tyen set upon violence. I am not sure why the Tyen attacked, whether it was to be a simple mugging or a retaliation for something prior. Regardless, the Tyen, lead by a man called Shalin, massacred them. And me, being young and foolish and still at the age of fourteen, decided to enact revenge on my own terms. I don’t know what possessed me to think that I could possibly take them on. They were well known trouble makers within Yarsin and -no one- defied them.

As obviously my sanity left me momentarily, I decided to do just that. It wasn’t much. I had seen Shalin out with one of his group whom I believe he was also romantically involved with. A red haired Tyen wench by the name of Brana. I had a spell prepared. Nothing fatal, but something that would give the recipient a stomach bug.. well, perhaps stomach bug is a bit of an understatement, but it would keep them both out of our hairs for a few days at least.

I passed them on the street, they had no idea who I was, but then again, no one did. I murmured the words required to invoke the magic. First upon Shalin– but for some reason that failed (but then again, the rune was a new one that I had barely understood so perhaps not so surprising), and then upon his mistress, Brana. Success there. His dark eyes locked upon mine and his hand reached for the hilt of the sword hanging at his side. The only thing that stopped him from chasing me (I had already started to run) was the sight of Brana folding over and falling to the ground with a loud shriek.

At this time, I was no longer staying at the stables but rather had found an abandoned group of run down caravans outside of town and taken up residence there. It wasn’t too bad, it was relatively private and it was outside of town so probably safer. There was always a warm fire, and food was usually plentiful and after a time, the small group of us that lived there expanded into a small community. This particular day, I think I ran the entire distance, my heart pounding fiercely as I flopped down onto my straw mattress. He had seen me, I guess I hadn’t thought about that. I hadn’t really thought about the whole thing much at all. Perhaps if I had of, things would not have played out quite the way they did.

It was on one of these such trips that a man caught my eye. Very well dressed with mannerisms to match. I had thought at first he might of been a noble. He moved with a grace that captured my imagination. I tried not to stare, but it was difficult. I quickly looked down to the book in my lap, and it wasn’t the heat of the fire before me that caused the blush that coloured my cheeks. When I looked up again he was gone.

Of course, he would not notice me. Who does? Not when I had gone to so much effort to ensure that I was not. I was not that much to look at even back then.

And so I became a regular at that Inn. Quietly reading on the thread-bare couch before the warmth of the hearth, hoping for the occasional glimpse of this mystery man who was like a lodestone for my eyes. Occasionally, not often.. but occasionally, I was rewarded with his presence and on such nights, my work went unattended and my magic was forgotten.

One night I was lucky though, he asked of the room if anyone had seen a particular man. And as fortune would have it, well, perhaps fortune was not so much involved but rather the fact I was in the Inn almost every night but regardless, I knew of the one he spoke of and got the opportunity to speak with him for the first time. There were only a few words exchanged, but I repeated them over in my head that night. The whole scene relived, many, many times. I know I go on a bit here.. but it becomes important later, it explains, or maybe it begins to explain a little of why things happened as they did. It’s not an excuse.. but maybe someone will understand.

I had planned to go back there the next day and had been imagining to myself what I might say to invoke conversation if I saw him again. “So, did ye catch up with ye friend?” But from then on things started to snowball out of control. It was some weeks before I saw him next and under quite different circumstances.

It was not too long before I had worked out enough rune combinations that I was able to do more useful things with the Kha. I could create warmth, invoke simple food out of thin air. Refill water skins. Enough to keep me fed, though I retained my job cleaning tables at the bar, as for all that it could do, it could not provide me with somewhere to sleep. At least, not yet.

I started to grow a little more confident in my surroundings. No one seemed to have come for me yet so I started to meet people. I didn’t give my name and soon became known as Scarlet. For my hair of course, even within Telantha, it’s strikingly bright colour was unusual. The colour of the scarlet bells which grow in the Telanthan fields and are popular within the bouquets of bribes-to-be.

I was still careful, wore enough layers that my skinny and still embarassingly shapeless form was concealed. My hair was braided and my face often at least partially muddied to conceal my freckles and scar. The scar from that night.. well, no one from back home would know about that, but the stares.. I did not want to draw too much attention to myself.

A friendship developed with a Tir by the name of Trelon. He was a mage, and had focused on more destructive magic. He did not ask questions I could not answer, but rather was more interested in discussions on Kha, and we exchanged many long hours talking about the relationship of runes and testing out theories together. A kind of affection between us developed.

My circle of friends, mostly mages, continued to develop over the coming months. I hungered for the knowledge and learnt from them as much as I could. I started to slowly venture out into the public bars and inns often in the company of others and occassionally on my own.

It was on one of these such trips that a man caught my eye. Very well dressed with mannerisms to match. I had thought at first he might of been a noble….

I have been trying to keep out of trouble, but not doing a very good job of it. I have managed to secure myself some employment but it is for little more than the right to sleep in the stables at night. I swear, I am sick of the smell of hay. But at least it gives me a quiet place to read once the guests have gone home and I’ve managed to ‘acquire’ a candle from the bar-room. I had thought when I left home I’d grabbed one of my more favourite books of tales, only to find it was a reference book on runes and kha.

But it was one of the only things I had left from my Grandmother (asides from that bloodied dagger which lies heavy at the bottom of my pack), and so I read it. The first time I got to through to the second paragraph before falling asleep. So I started to use it as that … a way to fall asleep in the stables even with the sound of the (frequent) drunken brawls occurring on the street and the shouts of livery in the bar.

Each night I got a little further and soon it was not putting me to sleep, but challenging me. Each rune had to be tried, new combinations tested. The examples in the text traced out in the air before me as I whispered the magical incantations. For many weeks nothing happened, my fingers too clumsy to find the dextrous patterns required to cast. It was not till the middle of winter, huddled before a candle stub in the dark which had long since gone out. But still I was curled up along side of it, remembering the brief warmth it had given me as I traced the three runes in the air before me. Perhaps it was the thoughts in my head, the image of the candle burning. Or perhaps it was simply luck. But what ever the reason, unlike the hundreds of other attempts this time something happened. A small speck of light at first, growing to form a fuzzy and glowing ball hovering in the air before me.

From that moment on I was hooked. I fell in love. It is hard to explain for one who does not know, but for me that little fuzzy ball of light was everything. I still actually have it, where other such balls have dimmed, this for some reason has not.

I arrived for the first time at the gates that marked the entrance to the renowned city of Yarsin. I didn’t know what to think. I had heard a lot about the place (who hasn’t), and travelled through it a couple of times with my family when I had been allowed to accompany them on caravan runs. But this time it was different.

This time I was alone, my feet bare and covered with grazes and dirt. My gown long since become little more than rags. I was hungry… ravenous. I had eaten some berries I had found earlier that morning but it had done little to calm the grumbling of my stomach. I still had my pack, and carefully stored in the bottom of it was a small purse of coins and some jewellery I hoped to sell. I was weary though. I figured they would be looking for me, so had muddied my hair so my red-Talenthan-origins would be less noticeable. I had lost a bit of weight, and I hoped that if any of the Guards had already been given my description, they’d not recognise it as me now.

Perhaps they’d not even care. Telantha is just a small town compared to Yarsin, surely not they’d have bigger things on their mind than a run-a-way-murderer. “My feet hurt.” I was thinking as I moved quietly by the guards without even a passing glance. Now what? Over the last week my only goal had been to ‘get to Yarsin.’ Now that I was here I was at a loss as to where to go. I followed the street and everyone else moving on it, clutching tight to my backpack for fear it would get stolen. Well, it was Yarsin, home to whores and thieves.

The smells of freshly baked bread assaulted my senses and found myself unable to resist the temptation of buying one of the hot and expensive loaves. I parted with one of my gold coins and took away a good sized loaf wrapped in brown paper, hugging it closely to my chest along with the backpack as I wandered looking for somewhere quiet to eat. Surely not they had a temple gardens like Telantha. Somewhere I could go where it would be quiet. Perhaps they might take me in. I could do that I think.. maybe become a scribe. Help with the filing. I know how to write and read. But no— they’d ask questions and my accent would give me away. Something else then, more simple.

As I wrapped my fingers around it’s hilt, Lord Mao lowered his mouth to my neck, capturing the wealth of blood that had already formed and had started to trickle down over gown with his tongue before planting his lips around the injury itself. Startled so at this, I nearly dropped the dagger entirely. In fact it is only when his hand started to paw at my breast through the thin silk, the fabric being torn by what ever implement he had used to cut into my throat, that I started to regain my senses. My dark blue eyes darted down, a moment of curiosity in amongst all this confusion. Perched upon the middle finger was a metal ring that extended over all three knuckles to form a sharp talon like tip. It was this that was digging– no, cutting, into my flesh as he cupped the breast and squeezed it painfully in time with the drawing of the blood into his mouth.

And then, he unexpectedly started to gag, his eyes wide and his face suddenly now finding an expression when prior it had lacked it. I took this moment … this opportunity to bring the sky-stone blade up between us and with as much force as I could muster (my strength was weakening- loss of blood and lack of air has a habit of doing that) I shoved the blade up into the centre of his chest. It was harder than I had anticipated but I managed to send it an inch and a half into his flesh.

His second surprise of the night, Lord Mao’s eyes looked at me with horror and he let out singular curse. The his hand released my breast and he brought the armoured finger sharply across my face, the bladed finger digging deeply into the skin and filling my eyes with blood. It continued to cut down sliding over the curve of my neck as he fell back to the ground heavily and then was still.

I had never thought that death could come so quick. Blinking back blood from my eyes I stared down at him as if expecting him to move in some way.. a limb to twitch or his sightless eyes to focus upon me. He did not. I stumbled back, thoughts reeling through my head. A noble. I had killed a noble. I would be put on trial and hung for everyone to see. My family’s name would be ruined. I had to get out of here and fast— My mind was working much faster than my body was and I fell back weakly against the side board I had only moments ago been pressed against. I clung at it for support, surprised that my parents had not heard the scuffle and come running. But then again, there had not been much noise had there..? Perhaps nothing more than what they expected..? Perhaps they knew and had arranged all of it.

I couldn’t stay here. I needed to get out. Pushing back the rising panic I took a deep and gasping breath. I walked forward, bending over the corpse I nudged it testingly with my boot. Nothing, no signs of life. Dead then. A murderer. I bent down and grabbed firmly upon the hilt of the blade. After a couple of pulls I managed to pull it free from the body.

I ran quickly from the room, down the short hall towards my bedroom, shutting the door (quietly) behind me. I grabbed my bag and started to stuff random things into it. The bloodied blade going in the bottom and wrapped in a blanket. Should I write a note? No.. what note could explain this? Did they know? Did they arrange it? Best to leave nothing. I did not really think about what I was taking or I would of grabbed more sensible things. Warm clothes, more blankets. Instead I grabbed a couple of dresses, some favourite items of jewelry. My favourite book, a brush and a few decorative ribbons. A small pouch of coins was placed at the bottom of the bag and I gave the room one last look before passing through the kitchen, grabbing a loaf of bread left out on the table and exited for the last time from the house I had grown up in.