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Aribeth ran deep into the woods, her mind only focused on one thing: finding their tree. She dashed through, dodging tree branches, following the Neverwinter River through the wood, as their tree was just next to the bridge that crossed it. Ever since that day, Aribeth's mind was focused on nothing but that tree - that symbol of their love. She had traveled for a few days, telling Lord Nasher and Aarin Gend that she was investigating a cult lead - she did not want them to worry about her - and she had finally arrived in these woods.
She was close now - she could see the bridge just up ahead. Her eyes focused on their tree. She was finally there, she had reached it after so long.
Her fingers stroked the carving delicately; it was of a heart, with the initials "F.M" and "A.T" inside. Her fingers traced the initials. She and Fenthick had carved their initials into that tree after they first kissed. The memory was painful to bear, now that Fenthick was gone, but she couldn't forget about it. She curled up between its roots, and cried to herself for the first time about Fenthick since his execution. She tried not to cry when he died, she could not - not while everybody cheered. She had to put on that mask, pretend to herself as well as the public that Fenthick was a traitor, a monster.
But he wasn't. Lord Nasher was wrong. The public was wrong. Everybody was wrong, wrong, wrong! Only one man knew as well as she did that Fenthick did not deserve to die - and he had disappeared elsewhere. Aribeth assumed that he had went to his home - wherever that was - as the plague quarantine was no longer in place, and he had done his job. There was no reason for him to linger after Fenthick's execution, though there, she had seen what he truly thought of it all - his face quite plainly said what he thought. He was the only one who agreed with her, who admitted that it wasn't justice.
For some strange reason, her thoughts started to focus on him instead of Fenthick. He had saved the city - but it had come at such a terrible price. The cure may have healed the plague, but it could not heal the huge scar on Neverwinter. Aribeth doubted that it would ever fade.
Everything was falling to pieces around her - her heart, her mind, her city - and she had never felt so powerless, so helpless. She could not defeat this despair with her sword, nor could she heal it with her magic. She could do nothing to stop it.
Aribeth did not know how long she stayed there, curled up and crying between the roots, but it felt like months had passed when she had finally stopped. She had heard a rustling and got up to investigate, quickly wiping away her tears.
The rustling was coming towards her. Aribeth drew her sword and shield, shifting herself into a fighting stance. She had to be cautious. She berated herself internally for dropping her guard, and prepared herself for whatever came.
A dire wolf ran towards her, barking happily, his tail wagging. He had a long, thin scar across his snout, and suddenly Aribeth realised who the wolf was.
Aereal the dire wolf, companion of Anaril Peine - better known as Neverwinter's Saviour - was bounding towards her. Aribeth quickly put her sword and shield away, relieved - but only for a moment.
Aereal leapt up onto her, panting and licking her face. She shoved the dire wolf off her, suddenly suspicious. If Aereal was there, then Anaril was close by. Had he figured out her lie? Or was he here on Lord Nasher's orders? Had Lord Nasher figured out her lie, and sent Anaril here to find her and make her return to Neverwinter?
But she couldn't return to Neverwinter. Not now.
Aereal was unhurt by the sudden rejection, and just stared at her, panting away. Aribeth looked around the surrounding forest, but there seemed to be no sign of the elf anywhere. She couldn't ask Aereal - she was not a druid or ranger. Part of her wanted to run from him, to be alone, but another was curious as to why he was here. The second part won, but only narrowly. She got up, and started to look around the wood for Anaril.
Aereal did not follow, instead leaping against a tree - her and Fenthick's tree - and barking. Aribeth stopped in her tracks, watching the dog yelp at something up in the treetops. Aribeth looked up to where Aereal was barking, and was surprised to find Anaril sleeping on a thick, high branch. He was clutching his bow tightly to his chest as he slept, his pack tied tightly to the same branch.
Aereal kept barking at Anaril, and eventually Anaril's eyelids flickered as he woke up. He instantly loaded his longbow with an arrow, saying, "Where is it? What's going on?", looking around for the target. His eyes found Aribeth, standing below, and his posture instantly relaxed. He put his arrow and bow away, and un-tied his pack from the branch. Shoving it on his back, he leapt from branch to branch until finally leaping off to the ground. Aribeth watched him, impressed. He was more dexterous than she thought.
Anaril brushed his fringe away from his face, his eyes not leaving Aribeth's face. "My Lady, it is good to see you again. Does Lord Nasher want me to return to Neverwinter?"
Aribeth blinked. She wasn't expecting that. "I thought you were here to find me."
Anaril raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were still in Neverwinter."
"Then why are you here?"
Anaril smiled. "The woods are my home. They have been for the past few years."
"You live here?"
Anaril nodded. "I like it here. It's peaceful, and I can just shut my eyes and listen to the rustling of the leaves. Ever since I came of age, I have lived here, helping travellers and communing with the animals. Until the plague struck, anyway."
Aribeth kept silent as Anaril's smile was replaced with a frown. "I'll admit, my Lady, that I wasn't being entirely altruistic when I offered to help the city. I need to travel to Neverwinter for supplies, and because of the quarrantine, I couldn't. So I had to help the city, or travel to another wood." He stopped for a moment, staring directly at Aribeth as if expecting a reprimand. "I chose to help the city - I cannot ignore a cry for help. Though I admit, it turned out better than I expected..." His voice tailed off.
Aribeth didn't know what to say. She understood why he chose to save the city, but she wasn't so sure about the last part. 'Turned out better than expected?' Aribeth doubted that. Sure, the city was free from the plague's grasp, but Neverwinter was still in pain from its' scar.
"So..." Anaril said suddenly, making Aribeth wake up from her thoughts. "Why are you here anyway?"
Aribeth took a deep breath and sighed. "...nothing. I just wanted peace and quiet. It's difficult to find in a city."
Anaril took a step closer to her. "I understand. It must be difficult for you, to be in such a position right now..."
It sounded like he was referring to the stressful position as Lord Nasher's right hand, but Aribeth knew that he was talking about Fenthick. She took another deep breath, trying to keep the mask on, not to succumb to her sadness. Not in front of Anaril. She inspired him to be a better person. She could not fail him.
Suddenly, without warning, Aereal yelped loudly in pain and crashed to the ground.
Anaril gaped at Aereal in horror and ran to him. "Aereal! Aereal!" He shook his dire wolf, trying to wake him up. More cries of pain from different animals suddenly sounded throughout the wood.
Anaril shook, his face pale and fearful. "What's going on?!"
Aribeth drew her sword and shield, awaiting any attack. Anaril quickly turned to his pack, rummaging through it to find a potion to awaken his companion, when Aereal's eyelids suddenly snapped open.
"Aereal?" Anaril said, placing a hand on Aereal's muzzle when Aereal growled and tried to bite him. Anaril's eyes widened as he backed away. "Aereal... what's wrong with you? It's me! Anaril!"
Aereal barked a warning in response, preparing himself to pounce on his master. His eyes were wild and feral, and a low growl escaped from his throat. Aribeth turned as he pounced on Anaril, and attempted to tear out his throat. Anaril wrestled with the beast, trying to get away, but the wolf was intent on murder. Aribeth charged at the wolf and shoved him off roughly from Anaril, pinning him down to the ground. Anaril quickly pulled out a potion with a clear liquid out of his pack, and rushed over.
"This will knock him out for now. I have a few more in case he... awakens." Anaril explained, unstoppering the bottle with a shaking hand. Aribeth pried the wolf's jaws open as Anaril emptied the potion down Aereal's throat. Aribeth and Anaril kept their hands wrapped tightly around Aereal's muzzle as the wolf thrashed around, attempting to attack them, until suddenly, the dire wolf collapsed and went limp.
Anaril picked up his companion's body. "Aereal... what happened?"
"We must return to Neverwinter with haste, before he awakens and you have no more of those potions. He can go to the Temple of Tyr." Aribeth said, her voice strong and commanding.
Anaril nodded, slinging the wolf over his shoulders, his face contorted with worry.
*