Chapter Text
Chapter One: Strange Presence, Strange Gem
The morning sun broke through the clouded glass of the small cabin. The morning air was crisp and cool, hints of oncoming winter foretelling cooler weather. A light fog rest upon the dew-covered grass surrounding the humble dwelling and early-morning risers chirped their morning birdsongs. Aelara rolled over in her bunk, nestling her face into the fur blanket resting on her sleeping body. She peeked a sleepy eye open, noticing it was likely around seven or eight in the morning given the angle of the gently-streaming sunbeams.
“One more minute…” She thought to herself. Just as she was about to fall back asleep, she felt a creeping anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Rolling to her back, she rubbed her eyes, focusing on the feeling. “Something’s not right,” she focused her senses, attempting to detect the abnormality. Growing more awake, she sat up noticing its magickal nature. Closing her eyes, she focused inward and was enveloped in a brilliant blue light that circled her limbs in a protective fortification. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, placing two bare feet on the cold wood floor. The disturbance didn’t feel very close, and it didn’t seem to be moving. However, it was better safe than sorry.
Aelara pulled her robes on, strapping a large hunting knife to her waist. Her long auburn hair fell in waves over her shoulders. She took a moment to plait and tie it back with a strip of leather before pulling her hood over her head. On her way out of the weathered door, she retrieved her satchel from her apothecary table, which sat sprawled with scribbled notes, old books, and various herbs. As she closed the door behind her, she touched the outside with her hand and a rune lit briefly as if the shape were burning into the oak panels.
The grass was wet with morning dew as Aelara’s leather shoes pressed into the ground outside of her cabin. A fox ran by, chasing a rabbit near her garden, the leaves of spiky grass and dragon’s tongue drooping under the weight of collected dew droplets. She walked alongside the nearby stream, admiring how lithely a group of longfin fish seemed to hover, weightless in the cool water. Closing her eyes, she followed the riverbank and reached with her senses toward the odd feeling, the pebbles massaging her feet as she strode along. The magickal feeling grew stronger, and she knew she was drawing nearer to the source. Opening her eyes, a body slumped over in the mud of the stream came into view. The figure lie dormant, possibly dead or passed out. Just to be safe, she drew her hunting knife, wiping the blade with a cloth she had soaked in a red poison.
As she approached the hooded figure, she noticed their chest rapidly rising and falling. Even as she drew nearer, the person didn’t stir—they must have been unconscious. Tentatively, she poked her blade at their arm. They didn’t move. Gently, she removed their hood, revealing a pained face. The man had shoulder-length black hair, which lay disheveled around his facial features. His heavy breath passed through full lips and a strong, aquiline nose. A crimson scar passed across his right eye and passed down his strong jaw, dark circles around his eyes adding to a sickly appearance. Despite his obvious illness, he was an attractive man and Aelara felt a heat rise in her chest. The feeling mingled with a growing anxiety and a radiating feeling of imposing magick. The source of the feeling that had drawn her here was on his person, though she wasn’t sure where. Slowly, she reached out a shaking hand toward a pocket in his black cloak. Inside was a piece of jerky, a green vial, and a small, half-eaten wedge of Eidar cheese. None of these things were radiating magick, though Aelara did for a moment consider taking the cheese for herself. She pulled back the fold of his ankle-length cloak to reveal a pouch affixed to his black robes. The satchel was tied closed with a piece of leather. Moving with stealth, Aelara gently pulled on the leather strip, opening the pouch.
A heavy feeling hit her stomach as if she had been punched in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. Yup, that was it. That was where the source of magick was coming from. Thinking ahead, Aelara wrapped her skirt around her hand before touching the glowing red stone. She reached forward and the man began to stir; her breath hitched in her chest, but she continued to extend her trembling arm. As she lifted the stone off his broad abdomen, she could feel it pulse with warmth in her hand. The moment she pulled it from his satchel, a hand shot forward to grasp her wrist. Aelara’s heart jumped into her throat as she startled at his sudden waking.
“Don’t—” He choked at her, his voice low and graveled. As soon as he tensed, his arm collapsed. For a moment, he looked at her with dark brown eyes, deep and troubled. She let out a brief yelp and placed the gem into her satchel. A creeping anxiety grew as she stood upright once more.
“Okay, here we go. You’re coming with me.” Aelara whispered under her breath.