Chapter Text
The fields were illuminated by the ever growing fire of what used to be the Abernant Estate. A tall, shadowy figure standing over a curled up girl on the drying grass, a journal held tightly against her chest.
A pitying sight, really.
No one wants to bear witness to a young, bloodied and beat up girl with an iron grip on a leather bound book that didn't even belong to her as if it were a lifeline–as if her own personal belongings and entire life weren't burning behind her. Of course, the figure standing over her didn't care. Instead, he silently lifted his leg towards young girl. His foot pressing on her shoulder repeatedly to get her attention. She barely gave a groan that then turned into a whine as a response.
When she did lift her head to get a better look at her attacker it was with a glare through cracked lenses of her bifocals. The figure merely huffed. His hand raised, palm facing towards the sky as if demanding for the book in the smaller girl's possession.
She coughed, wheezed, took a shaky breath in.. then spat at his feet.
Unsurprised by the disgusting offense toward himself he still huffed in exasperation all while grumbling something that the girl on the ground could barely comprehend. Her only thoughts were to start crawling away as quickly as she could. Even if it meant doing so without any dignity left all while ignoring the distant rants of the figure as they grew louder and angrier. She could feel more than she could hear his steps get closer. She knew that the kick would come, she knew it would knock her over. She didn't expect the sheering pain of something popping or possibly even cracking from the contact or the way her bleeding arm would collapse underneath from her own weight that brought her crashing down.
As her body hit the ground with a solid thud and aching "oomph!" her mind began to think; sure, why not? Why not tuck the stupid journal that got her into this mess under herself? Why not tuck her chin into her chest as well and curl up even further into a ball? Why not take the hits again?
She's always been good at fighting back but why not simply let it happen this time? She was exhausted, she was tired. Bruised. She's lost a lot of blood at this point what's a few broken ribs? The ringing in her ears already wouldn't stop which meant she'd have the raging headache going long after this was all over, her legs were weak. Gods, she had already thrown up twice–once in the midst of her panic to reach the front door and a second time when the estate exploded–and to top it all off she only had one last spell prepared. It wasn't even an all that powerful spell, either.
So why not let the figure use his foot to kick Adaine onto her side. At least this way she could reach a hand out to grab on to his ankle with as much strength as she could muster. At least the act could make him stop out of the sheer bafflement he experienced.
Then, her sigil. A sigil which quickly became bright and clear around her hands, engraving itself into skin. For a brief moment it was the only other source of heat and light that wasn't the fire. He should have expected the spell to fall from her mouth, despite how slurred it came. It was so painfully obvious. So painfully stupid. He could laugh at her feeble attempt.
So he did. He laughed, and laughed–on and on until he realized with mortification that the young Abernant had indeed succeeded in her casting.
Once he was on the ground with her, Adaine clutched on to the book as she struggled to stand up. Stumbling over her own feet she looked around at the wide and open field, then to the forest head. Past the forest she could see the edges of the harbour her family often ignored, wanting to avoid the "common people of that wretched waste of space."
With a rattled deep breath in, she looked to the figure on the ground that now struggled to regain his composure, and she gave a hard kick to his torso.
"Go.. to hell," She wheezed.
Adaine struggled to stand still for a moment as she took in her surroundings. The city she could go to–but they wouldn't help. They never did before. There was the harbour. They knew her well enough there. Too well, maybe. She wondered if it was worth going down there right away.
In the end she realized it wouldn't. Not without some mone-
Adaine looked down at the still cackling offender. Then back at the burning home. Then to the fields behind.
It was that moment she remembered something hidden in these woods and with another kick–much like he had been doing to her–just to turn him over and take the satchel attached his side. Quick, short (and admittedly practiced manner) work of her hands later she had the buckles undone enough to pull it away then begin running towards the tree-lines.
Muscle memory kicked in. Even if she couldn't see the direction she was running very well due to the cracked lenses in her bifocals, Adaine had made this trip more times than she ever would admit to anyone. She's ran this way so many times she knew which roots stuck up from the ground and where, she knew which branches to duck under and what small little drop she needed to jump in order to reach the little haven in a tree.
Her own little haven. One that was built up over time with every instance she needed to get away from her parents as quickly as possible. It was there every time she found it necessary to disappear and go unnoticed for a short while. It was the best place to hide away every bit of her allowance as much as she could without raising suspicion, the safest place to plan the best route out of Fallinel. The best place to keep back up spells and bags to start running once the day came.
Apparently that would be today, so with any bit of strength still there from the adrenaline, she climbed up some rickety steps that spread around the trunk, grabbing on to the rope that only reached down a short length from the entrance itself, and climbed into the tree-house.
There wasn't much here. A few blankets spread about, cushions she had managed to buy off the harbormasters. But more importantly, a hefty bag filled with as many emergency kits as she could put together. From the box tucked in the corner of the space she pulled out the hidden Bag of Holding that she had convinced Aelwyn to get at some point.
The thought of her sister left an aching pit in Adaine's chest.
They were supposed to leave together.
The young wizard took a deep breath in, ignoring the way her whole body shook and her eyes welled up. If she can ignore the pain in her sides that made even standing difficult she can ignore the way her chest felt like it had a hole blown into it.
Because right now was not the time to grieve. It was not the time to go into a panic. There was no other reason to delay or waste another week. She had to leave now. The sooner the better. Then–maybe then–she could make everything right once she was safe. No matter how long it took her, she would. For now there wasn't any time to let tears fall. So she counted down from ten a couple of times, grabbed the two cloaks in the corner, threw one in the Bag of Holding and the other over herself, then reached into a small box to pull out several other prepped spells for the occasion. Most of which Aelwyn had put together.
Adaine threw the bags down on to the ground below the little hideout, barely climbing a few steps before dropping to the ground when her legs couldn't hold her up any longer.
She ignored the shooting pain that followed, threw the journal she stole in one bag, and grabbed the prepped bags. She hoisted them over her shoulders. Taking in her surroundings she nearly panicked at the ever growing light, calming down once she realized that it was merely the sun beginning to rise in the distance rather than the fire spreading out beyond the Estate.
Morning was coming. Time was running out.
She began to head west as far west as she could. The harbour should be visible from beyond the tree line and she could make her escape that way. Whether through sneaking or through bribery. She'd leave to the farthest one north. The rickety pier she knew held the travelers from all over who would take any gold so long as it was good and well worth not saying a word of their passengers.
Adaine reached into the satchel to pull out one of the spells Aelwyn had prepared. It had been a much more advanced spell–one the older Abernant had taught Adaine over the course of a few months until she was sure the younger wizard would be able to pull it off on her own–and triggered it just as her she had been taught. The spell was prepared should they ever need it when drained of their archaic energy.
The little satchel of herbs and other ingredients burst into light. The familiar burn of it's casting now etching itself into flesh as the runes of the spell appeared on skin for just a moment until it disappeared–along with the rest of herself.
Advanced as the spell was to learn, it was one of simple use. Adaine internally thanked the Gods–and especially Aelwyn–that it worked for she was out of energy. She had not been prepared to cast so many of her spells in less than an hour. Her early morning preparations ever a rewarding routine.
It wasn't going to last for very long, but at the very least it would cover her tracks. If there were more involved in the attack, they can waste their time finding the safe haven. Do whatever they wanted with it. It had already been prepared with several runes to keep anything from being linked to herself or her sister. Courtesy of Adaine's paranoia. The culprit of the burning home could find it once he recovered from the child's spell she cast on him.
She would forever be grateful for choosing to learn that one so early in life and proceed to master it. Aelwyn would be proud of her.
The sun continued to rise above the horizon. Drowning out the flames of the fire that had overtaken her home. The transition of dark to light blurring the young elven woman's vision for a moment. She risked a look over her shoulder and noticed the few light sources that made their way towards the estate from the east, barely catching the shadows of other's emerging from the dark of the surrounding forest only to hide away almost immediately.
The faint smell of magic being cast hit her nose. It was strong enough to tell Adaine they were attempting to put out the fire, at the very least. Enough to tell her they were now searching for her.
Adaine kept running. Her legs burned but she needed to keep running. Her lungs hurt, every breath in was a burning sensation, and the bruising on her side made it nearly impossible to even breathe normally without wheezing but she kept going.
Maybe it was the adrenaline that came back, or maybe it was disbelief at everything that had happened.. but Adaine let out a laugh. She ran wide eyed with tears still streaming down her face, her shirt stained in what could be safely assumed as vomit, blood, soot and dirt. Her home was burning behind her and she was making a carefully planned out escape without her sister, half her resources and going far too rogue from the carefully planned out time frames.. and still Adaine laughed.
It was release.
It was a bittersweet freedom.
It was one promise being completed and another being born.