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Rain pounded hard against the roof of the stables as Imogen guided Shimmer, the last horse, into a stall. Her clothes were soaked, hair sticking to her face, and she considered sleeping in the stables once again to avoid walking home in the storm. She turned to refill the horses’ feed, jumping as she saw a figure in the lantern light. An equally damp girl, dressed in far nicer gowns, came into view as Imogen calmed.
“Princess,” she said, letting out a sigh. “What are you doing out here? You will get sick, and my father will kill me if he learns I let you do so. Not to mention what Lady Briarwood will do..”
“It is quite alright,” Princess Matilda responded with a large grin. “No one besides us will know I am out here.” She approached the open door. “Isn’t the rain just lovely?”
“Sure,” Imogen said, hesitantly going to her side. “For those that do not have to work in it.” Matilda pretended to not hear her, looking into the shrouded night sky, watching drop after drop of rain fall in perfect sheets. “Why are you out here, Princess?”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me Matilda?” She replied, her wide, bright gaze going to Imogen. “I wanted to see you. I saw you from my window. And I have not spoken to you in ages, Imogen.”
Guilt found its way into Imogen’s heart, and she broke their connected gazes. “I have been quite busy.”
“Too busy for me?”
“Too busy for anything.”
She did not look up, fearing the hurt that would be on Matilda’s face. Instead, she turned to continue feeding the horses and making the best she could of the horrid weather. There was prolonged silence before Matilda spoke again.
“My sixteenth birthday is approaching,” she said with a soft voice, still watching the rain. “There will be a ball. I am meant to find suitors.” Matilda turned to face Imogen. “I want you to be there.”
Imogen paused, back facing Matilda. Slowly, she turned. “Matilda,” her delicate voice said, “I am not a suitable guest for such events. Lady Briarwood would not allow it. And I do not understand why you would even suggest such a thing. I have no part in a ball or in your suitors.”
Matilda approached Imogen and took her hands in her own. “You are the closest person to me. It is like you are one with my soul, Imogen. I would have no one else by my side.” She brushed Imogen’s wet hair out of her face. “My soul aches deeply for you, do you understand? You have been my only friend since childhood. A suitor… a suitor could never be what you are to me.”
“Matilda…” Imogen said warningly. She was dancing close to dangerous territory.
“Imogen,” she whispered, forehead touching Imogen’s as her eyes closed, hiding her desperation. “I fear losing you once I am wed. I fear losing my only friend. The other half of my soul. If I asked, would you run away with me?”
Where did this come from? Running away? Imogen knew they had a close bond, closer than they should have, but to hear such proclamations… It was suffocating. Her head spun as she backed away.
“We cannot,” she managed. “We have responsibilities. I to my father, you to the Briarwoods. To the kingdom of Whitestone. Running away would be a selfish, childish mistake.” But why did part of her heart yearn for it? To find their own cottage, far away from it all…
Matilda began to weep. Imogen heard it before she saw it, and it crushed her. Utterly destroyed her heart. “I cannot do what they wish,” her frail voice said. “I fear what they ask. There are a great many things you do not know, Imogen. I have to leave, you do not understand.” Imogen certainly did not understand, and Matilda was getting harder to understand the more she spoke.
“What could possibly be so hard about a life of royalty that you need to leave it?” Imogen found herself saying; regret immediately washed over her as hurt caressed Matilda’s face.
“You truly do not understand,” she muttered, moving away from Imogen. Moving into the storm. “I thought you of all people would. Would understand why I cannot wed. Why I cannot continue to be a puppet to the Briarwoods… but you are no different.”
Those words stung. They struck Imogen right in her heart, her chest tightening as guilt crashed over her in waves, and yet she did not understand why. “Princess, come in from the storm. You are going to get sick,” Imogen tried, going to the opening of the stables. Matilda shook her head as she continued to walk backwards. Towards the castle and away from Imogen. Imogen sighed, almost tempted to chase after her. But what would be the point? Nothing would change. So, she bowed her head and turned into the stables to finish her chores, letting Matilda go. For what she did not realize would be the last time.
Imogen tended to her duties, looking over her shoulder for the sneaky princess. She never came, however. Not even after her sixteenth birthday, after the elegant ball commoners and staff gossiped about. About how mature the princess seemed, how different. Imogen wished she would visit, if only to see how different Matilda supposedly was. But as time went on, even the staff began to see her less, whispering rumors about her disappearance. It continued for months, until the rumor came that struck Imogen to her core.
Princess Matilda was dead.
There was no formal announcement of her death from the Briarwoods, but no one had seen her in months. Not her father, nor the little boy that often snuck around the castle. He brought word of only more prisoners in the dungeon and sightings of the Briarwoods without their ward. Even meal times passed without her presence. Imogen swallowed thickly as she gave him his usual apple in return for his information. Something was wrong, and Imogen could feel it shake her deep in her core. Rumors of uprisings had grown along with everything else, people getting rowdy under the unfair treatment of the Briarwoods. She did not know what would happen.
Imogen had been asleep when her father woke her, sweat upon his brow and worried in his eyes. He shoved her luggage in her arms and urged her to take the cart and head towards a town known as Jrusar. Imogen sputtered. “What about you, dad?”
“Do not worry about me.” She could see fire beyond the windows. “Look at me. Go, Imogen. You must leave.” He guided her to the cart, forcing her into it and shoving the reins into her hands. “There’s a woman in Jrusar—Zhudanna. Find her. She will give you shelter.”
“But—”
“No buts, Imogen. Whitestone is no longer safe. Go!” His hand met Oak’s hind, sending the horse into a gallop. Imogen desperately looked behind her at her father, watching as chaos consumed the village she grew up in. “Dad!”
“Do not be afraid!” He yelled after her, running only slightly to be able to speak to her. “You will be safe!”
He faded into the smoke and flames as Oak sped down the road that led from their house into the surrounding forest. Tears came to her eyes and developed into sobs as she thought of her father. Of Matilda, and the state of Whitestone. What would happen? What had happened? Imogen knew not, and she feared she would not receive answers for quite some time as she turned, wiping her tears with shaking hands. She gripped the reins, following the path to what she could only hope would be safety, just as her father had promised.
The fall of Whitestone under the Briarwoods’ power became common knowledge years after it occurred. The spread was slow, taking months to reach place after place. Imogen made her home in Jrusar, learning how to survive and cook from Zhudanna, the woman her father had told her to find. She matured and began to study magic, starting small but finally giving that part of herself attention. Her hunger for knowledge was large. She searched anywhere she could for more information, often leading to trouble she had to escape from more often than not.
While in a small shop, searching for magical books, she came across an odd group.
A tall, green gem-like person stood to the side, leaning on a hammer as they picked leftover food from their teeth while an automaton wheeled around the store in childlike excitement. Nearby was a faun, sneaking shiny objects into her bag when no one else was looking, and a small halfling tried his best to not notice, though his expression of disappointment was obvious. His face flushed bright red as a tall air genasi pulled the halfling into his side, distracting him from the faun’s antics. They seemed close, and for a moment, Imogen thought of Matilda. She swallowed thickly and turned back to the books she was browsing. Nothing was catching her eye. She sighed and resigned herself to leaving empty handed when she noticed some scrolls just past where the group was.
Imogen slipped between the group, muttering a, “Pardon me,” and reached the scrolls. Happiness bubbled up within her as she looked at them, only reading parts. They were closer to what she wanted. And then—perfect. She found a scroll with a few new spells detailed within it. She could feel the magic rushing in her body. Then she saw the price. She certainly did not have fifty gold pieces to spend on paper, but she also couldn’t study the spell within the shop. She bit her lip and tried sneaking it into her bag.
“Oi!” The shopkeeper barked. She turned around, panic racing in her chest. “Just what do you—” He was cut off by a large clattering sound, and upon looking in its direction, Imogen saw the faun, faking innocence.
“Oops,” the faun said. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so clumsy sometimes.” The shopkeep was distracted and upset with the new situation. As he went to pick up what seemed to be valuable silverware, the faun turned and winked at Imogen, who took the hint and quickly made her way out of the shop, the keep none the wiser to her leave.
She took a deep breath, heart racing, and sighed, leaning against a fence not too far from the shop. Gods, imagine if the faun hadn’t been there , Imogen thought to herself. She heard the door open to the shop and watched as the group walked out, laughing and messing around with each other. The faun looked up and spotted Imogen, her expression perking up. She headed in Imogen’s direction with a bounce in her step.
“Hi,” the faun said once she arrived. She offered her hand. “I’m Fearne.” Imogen took her hand and shook it.
“Imogen,” she said. “Thank you for what you did back there.” Fearne winked at her again.
“Not everyone is as experienced as I am. Did you get the scroll?”
Imogen nodded and pulled it slightly out of her bag to show Fearne. Fearne grinned and opened her own bag, showing all kinds of stolen, shiny objects.
“That’s quite a lot you’ve got there,” Imogen said, her own mouth forming a smile
“I’m rather talented with my hands,” Fearne said, causing Imogen to blush slightly. “Have you been in Jrusar long?”
Imogen nodded. “A couple of years. I’ve never seen you before, though.”
“Oh, some of my friends and I only arrived recently,” Fearne explained. “I’d say we’re settling in, though.” Her grin stayed on her face, maybe even grew, as she talked to Imogen. “You should come hang out with us. We’re all very nice.”
Imogen thought about it. Besides Zhudanna, she didn’t really have any friends. Hadn’t had any since Matilda…
“Sure,” she decided, smiling brightly at Fearne, who cheered and practically dragged Imogen over to the rest of the group. They all nodded at her.
“Hi,” said the halfling. “I’m Orym. This is Dorian,” he said, motioning towards the air genasi.
“Ashton,” said the gem-like person, an earth genasi.
“Smiley day to you. I’m Fresh Cut Grass,” the automaton cheerfully offered.
“Imogen,” she said softly, smiling. Everyone seemed nice, something she wasn’t totally used to.
“Come on,” Fearne chirped. “Let's go get a drink!”
Imogen let Fearne continue to pull her along, the rest of the group following. For once, her mind drifted from memories of Matilda and her father and Whitestone. She was in the present, and not the past.
Imogen ended up staying with the group, befriending them and accepting their company. Zhudanna gave her a hug when she decided to leave, to travel with her new friends. Imogen missed her dearly, and was forever thankful for her, but she found a place where she felt more accepted than ever before. She found herself growing especially close with Fearne as they traveled, building a strong bond with her.
They were on the road, in the woods camping for the night, when Imogen heard some sticks cracking. Whoever caused it was clearly trying to be quiet to not disturb the group or alert them to their presence. Imogen sat up and looked around, squinting in the dark to see if she could spot the intruder. She stood, walking a bit away from where everyone was asleep.
“Hello?” She murmured, dagger gripped tightly in her hand. The walking stopped, and silence filled the night. Imogen stepped closer, pulling her dagger out. “Who’s there?” Nothing for a moment, so Imogen stepped forward again, gripping the dagger tightly.
“I do not mean harm,” a light voice spoke, and a figure stepped into the moonlight. Imogen’s breath hitched. A beautiful woman, slightly gaunt looking, stepped into the light. A shock of white ran through black hair. Wide, black eyes stared back at Imogen. She looked tired, and dirty, and she limped slightly. Her clothes were dirty and torn. “I am just trying to find my way.”
Imogen sheathed her dagger. “Where are you tryin’ to go?” The woman paused.
“Somewhere safe.”
Imogen’s heart ached slightly. “Here, come with me. I’ll get you some food.” Imogen offered her hand, and the woman hesitated. “I’m Imogen.”
The woman’s expression widened, as if in shock or recognition. She reached out and took Imogen’s hand, and she guided her back to the now dead fire. She found some rations in her bag and offered them to the gaunt woman as they sat on her bedroll.
“What’s your name?”
“... Laudna.”
Laudna. It was beautiful. “It’s nice to meet you,” Imogen said softly. She held out the rations again. “Here, eat.”
A tentative hand took the food, and Laudna began to eat, closing her eyes. Imogen guessed it had been a while since the woman had food.
“Thank you,” she said once she had finished eating. “For your hospitality. I will find a way to repay it.”
“Nonsense,” Imogen waved her off. “You owe me nothing.” She scooted off of her bedroll. “Get some rest. You look like you could use it.”
Shining eyes met Imogen’s, and Laudna nodded before moving to lay down on the bedroll, still watching Imogen closely. Imogen laid down, her head on her bag, gaze on Laudna as well. They laid in silence as Laudna’s eyes slowly closed and she drifted off. Imogen studied her features, finding them oddly familiar. However, she couldn’t place the woman. As she drifted off, her mind once again wandered to Matilda, for the first time in ages. Why now was she thinking of the one person she had failed to keep safe?
Morning came, and Imogen woke to an empty bedroll next to her. She panicked and sat up, relaxing only as she heard melodic laughter and saw Laudna chatting with Orym and Fearne by the fire. She noticed Imogen and gave her a wide smile. That smile… It haunted her. But why? She didn’t know this woman. At least, she didn’t think so.
Imogen broke out of her thoughts as Laudna waved her over. She stood and stiffly approached the group, body sore from sleeping on the ground. “Mornin;.”
“Good morning,” she said with a soft smile. “I was just telling these two about your kindness. They are also very accommodating.”
“We have no reason to be hostile,” Orym assured as Imogen sat down, taking some breakfast from the halfling.
“They’ve offered to let me travel with you all,” Laudna said happily. Imogen’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Is that alright?”
“Oh, yeah, of course!” Imogen stumbled, blushing slightly. “I’m just surprised, but I would love for you to join us.” Laudna smiled wider, and Imogen thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“So,” Ashton said, approaching the group. “Where to next?” Orym swallowed his bite.
“I was thinking we could head to Whitestone,” he said, and both Imogen and Laudna went rigid. “The De Rolos are back in power, and The Tempest is currently there. I think we could get some aid.” He looked at the group. “Are you two alright?”
“Yes,” they said at the same time, glancing at each other. Imogen cleared her throat.
“I just haven’t been there in a very long time.”
“You’ve been to Whitestone?”
“I grew up there.”
She noticed Laudna watching her closely. “As did I,” she said after a beat. Imogen looked at her with wide eyes. Surely she would remember someone like Laudna if she grew up in Whitestone.
“Really? How do I not remember you?” Laudna looked away.
“Much has changed since the fall of the kingdom,” she murmured. Imogen found her curiosity growing. She knew about the fall? What changed? Who was she before? Is that why she seemed familiar? “Since the Briarwoods…”
“Since they what?”
Laudna looked back at Imogen.
“Since they murdered me.”
The group agreed to go to Whitestone. Imogen was desperate to press more about Laudna’s background, but the woman had been mostly quiet since she admitted she had died and come back. As they traveled, she glanced at Laudna as she stared out into the trees. Days passed with little word from their new companion, but soon they were crossing into Whitestone. The group stopped at the castle, moving to seek aid from the De Rolos and Keyleth of the Air Ashari, the newest Tempest.
Orym led the way, and Imogen took in just how much had changed since the De Rolos took back over. There was such life in Whitestone now. Such joy, like the kind she and Matilda only experienced with each other. The stables came into view, and for a moment she thought her father was there. Instead, it was another man his age. A little worse for wear, but still strong and working.
“Tempest,” Orym said, bowing slightly before Keyleth.
“Orym,” she said warmly. “How can I help you… and your friends?”
“We seek aid and shelter for a few days,” he explained, moving away from the group as he explained their situation. Imogen looked around the castle. It was so different yet so familiar. As she glanced around, she noticed Laudna doing the same, a sense of pain on her face.
“Are you okay?” She asked as she approached Laudna, who startled.
“I am alright,” she assured. “It is just a lot to take in.”
Imogen nodded, and was about to speak when Orym came back.
“They are giving us shelter here,” he said with a smile. “Come on, let’s go rest.”
Fearne looked at Imogen and raised an eyebrow. She had no clue as to what the faun was referencing but didn’t pay it much mind as she went upstairs to freshen up and rest. The girls all got a room together, with large beds in it. They took turns bathing and changing before Orym grabbed them for dinner.
The sun set as they ate, and Imogen could feel exhaustion settling in. She, Fearne, and Laudna went to their room to settle in for the night. Imogen practically collapsed into her bed, falling asleep rather quickly. Hour passed before she woke, the moon shining through the window.
She squinted and looked around, noting Laudna was missing. Odd. Imogen stood and went to the window, noting the light on at the stables. She bit her lip as she wondered if any of the old horses were still there.
Slipping on her shoes, Imogen headed out to the stables, pausing as she heard a melodic voice speaking.
“I know, Shimmer. I have changed quite a bit, but I know you remember me, sweet girl,” Laudna said, and Imogen glanced in to look at her. Seeing her there, in the light, with Shimmer—the horse reserved for Matilda…. It clicked into place and hit Imogen like a bag of bricks.
Could it be?
Was she really…
There was no way.
Laudna… was Matilda.
Imogen could feel her heart racing as she stepped into the stables, eyes lingering on her old friend.
“So it is you,” she said softly. Laudna jumped and looked at Imogen with wide eyes.
“What?”
“It’s you. Why didn’t you say anything when you recognized me?” Imogen said, getting closer to Laudna.
“I don’t know what you—”
“Don’t lie to me, Matilda.”
Laudna—Matilda swallowed.
“Matilda is dead. I am Laudna.”
“But you were her, weren’t you?” Imogen said, face softening. Laudna looked away and slowly nodded. “What did they do to you?”
“Too much,” she said quietly. Imogen watched before gently taking her hand, causing Laudna to look at her.
“I… I should've gone with you back then,” Imogen said. “When you asked me to run away, I should’ve just said yes. God, I am so, so sorry, Ma—Laudna.” Laudna shook her head.
“I was foolish to ask you.”
“You weren’t,” Imogen assured, pulling Laudna closer. Her forehead leaned against Laudna’s, and they both stood there, taking each other in. “Gods, I am so sorry. I should’ve done so much more to keep you safe.”
“We can’t change the past,” Laudna said mournfully. “I went looking for you. But Thomas said you were gone. That your father sent you away before he passed the night everything happened..”
Imogen swallowed at the confirmation. “At least you found me now.”
“At least I did,” Laudna agreed. They looked at each other, and Imogen spoke quietly.
“Can I kiss you?”
“...Alright.”
So, she leaned in and softly kissed Laudna. Laudna paused before returning the kiss, and Imogen could almost feel the woman’s heart racing, beating faster. As if it were coming back to life.
When they separated, their foreheads touched again. “I should have done that back then, too,” Imogen murmured. Laudna laughed softly, and Imogen’s heart swelled.
They stayed like that for a moment longer before Imogen pulled away, keeping ahold of Laudna’s hand. “Come. We should get some rest.”
The two returned to the room, and as Laudna went towards her bed, Imogen tugged on her hand. Laudna looked at her quizzically. Imogen pulled her towards her bed, silently asking for Laudna to join her. Getting the hint, she laid on the bed beside Imogen, who moved to rest with her head on Laudna’s chest, listening to the slow beating of her heart, letting herself fall asleep with the thought that yes, Matilda, now Laudna, was alive after all, and that she had found her way back to Imogen after all this time.