Mritha
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Mritha flew through the hidden town of Sulen'Eska, an annoyed frown marring her slightly sun kissed face. An armored hand reached back and gingerly rubbed the back of her head, her fingers tangling with her long black hair to feel the sore place on her scalp where said hair had been brutally pulled. The Black Dragonlord rightened and flapped her wings wide and quick, her feet gently landing on the earth with a soft thwump. She walked the last few paces to stand in front of a beige tent, staked up at the base of one of the large trees in the town. She had planned to come visit her older sister, but now hesitated. Now she had a reason other than idle chat.
Chimes hanging from one of the low branches near the doorway of the tent began to softly sing, a large purple stone tapping against the metal pipes surrounding it as the wind pushed it into a slow sway. Mritha watched the chimes with mild fascination for a moment, then stepped closer and poked her head into the open flap of the tent. "Knock knock."
"Come in." came a friendly, but distracted reply. Mritha's sharp violet eyes swept through the tent, taking in the details with a firm grip on her sword. Too many times had she seen bloodshed to not be suspicious of the shadows when entering a new environment, even if the room belonged to the one of the few she called family. Melissa was her sister, even if the two didn't share a drop of blood. Or the same race, for that matter.
Satisfied that the table; covered with pouches of varying sizes, and the bed; made but slightly rumpled, contained no unwanted organisms underneath their surface, Mritha broached the subject on her mind. "You once told me you could cut hair." she finally said, leaning one hip against the small table and loosening the grip on the sword in her hand.
"I can," the fairy responded without looking up. "Though it has been a while since I last did so." Wings of bold purple sprouted from the fairy's back on either side of a long spill of deep purple hair, slowly opening and closing while the woman concentrated. Mritha craned her neck to get a better view of her sister's work. A small pile of faintly glowing green dust was cupped in gentle hands. Melissa lifted the dust to her lips, softly whispering a spell. Gradually, the dust began to lightly sparkle blue.
"I was hoping you would be willing to fix my hair, cut it shorter." Mritha said, her eyes never leaving the dust, mesmerized by the change.
Melissa carefully shook the dust from her hands into a small leather pouch and pulled the drawstrings closed. "Why cut it? You love your hair."
"And that hasn't changed, but it's in the way." Mritha rubbed the back of her head again. "Ever since I stopped wearing the helm… I pulled it back this time so it wasn't in my face. But one of the dravir I was sparring today grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me down on my back. He held a knife to my throat before I could recover, had that been a real battle I would have died right there." Mritha closed her eyes. "No one lives forever, but my end will not be the result of vanity."
For the first time since her sister entered the tent, Melissa turned to face the dragonlord. "You have been here for years; I'm surprised you are still so unused to the climate that you can't wear a helm because of the heat."
Mritha placed her shield on the table and leaned her sword against it. "I am gradually getting used to it… but after spending close to thirty years so far up north I'm not sure I will ever be fully accustomed to it down here. I still don't understand how you can breathe with so much water in the air down here."
The fairy chuckled. "I still don't understand how you stopped shivering from the cold to get anything done up there." she motioned for Mritha to sit while she grabbed a nearby towel, draping it over her sister's armor to collect the hair. "How short?"
"Let's start with shoulder length." Mritha said after a pause, thinking. She winced slightly when Melissa reached for the scissors, but didn't voice a complaint. To drown out the sound of snipping, she tried to start a conversation. "I heard that the hero was finally unfrozen, they will be a great help fighting against the Rose."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"If the hero can stop the silliness long enough to be of help, and open their eyes to see that there is more to the races of Lore than just humans in peril, then yes. They will be a great help." the fairy retorted, combing her sister's ebony hair with her fingers, making sure the strands were straight and even before cutting.
Mritha thought back to the reports of the hero from a fire elemental right after Akriloth was slain, how they wished for a catchy theme song to be playing. It was as if all the destruction the great dragon had caused, all the death and suffering, meant little. "Lore was a different time then. Clawkins ambushed without warning, the elves were in hiding, and humans ruled the land unopposed. It was a time of chaos, war, and terrible puns."
Melissa made one final snip before setting the scissors down on the table, gently shaking her sister's hair free of loose strands and replied with a slight edge in her voice. "Some things haven't changed, these five years."
Knowing the fairy was thinking of the recent report she'd given Kara, Mritha reached back and grasped her older sister's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "It united most of Lore's races. A few stand apart, but even many dragons are on our side now. Because of suffering, we have a unity that wouldn't have happened otherwise."
Melissa smiled, just a little. "A blessing within every curse." Removing the towel from the dragonlord's shoulders, she said, "Now go look in the mirror and tell me what you think."
Mritha obeyed, feeling the ends of her hair tickle her neck as she moved through the tent, looking at her reflection in a mirror leaning against the far side. She looked… older somehow with the shorter hair. Combed and in place rather than draped loosely over her shoulders and down the back of her armor. But looks was not all that was important. Stepping away from the mirror, the dragonlord closed her hand as if grasping a sword, and went through the motions of fighting off an opponent, though slower and with more care than would be in a fight so as to study the movements of her shortened strands and to not trip over or knock down things in the small tent.
Melissa sat on her bed and comfortingly leaned back on her hands, watching her younger sister. "Well?"
The human stopped and sighed. "I like the look, surprisingly, but now it gets in my face even more than when it was long. If I pull it back I run into the same problem as before, making an easy thing to grab."
"Not as much of one, hair that length won't make a long pony tail, or braid." The fairy replied.
Mritha shook her head. "I won't risk it. Cut it shorter, please." she said with a huff as she sat down again. "How do you fight with long hair without it getting in your way?"
"By fighting with tact and guerrilla warfare. I usually don't engage a large number of enemies for any length of time, whereas you dive in the midst of an attacking force with little forethought." Melissa answered, sliding a section of hair through her fingers to the end before snipping for an even line. "A fairy can also hover in the air high enough to keep from getting our hair pulled and still be low enough to fight. Your wings were given to you by a dragon and are built differently than mine, I don't know of any dragonkind that can hover well."
"In my defense, I'm used to having a massive darkness breathing lizard guarding my hide." Mritha said, responding to the 'lack of forethought' and closing her eyes against the steady clipping sounds coming from behind her. Her head certainly felt lighter without the weight of all her hair pulling it down. "Stealth isn't one of my strong suits. I don't see how you manage."
"Years and years of practice and patience." Melissa answered with a frown, though not from the conversation. The color black was known to absorb heat, one reason why she had convinced her younger sister to change into a lighter weight and lighter colored version of her dragonlord armor years before. With her black hair, Mritha still faced the trouble of attracting heat when she was so unused to it. "Don't move." She instructed, walking to her pouch of dusts and pawing through it. Mritha fidgeted, it was uncomfortable to have her wings pressed against the back of the chair for so long, but did as she was told and wondered just how old her sister was. She was in her early twenties in fairy years, but just like the dragons, fairies aged differently. How old Melissa was in human years, Mritha didn't know. Long enough to be older and more experienced than herself, at any rate.
Finding what she was looking for, Melissa poured an earthy smelling dust into her palm and sprinkled it over her sister's head. Still unsatisfied with the result, she sprinkled different dusts on her sister's hair and down her back, concentrating on its specific placement and amount applied. "Open your eyes." When Mritha did so, the fairy flicked dust in her face.
"Gah!" Mritha shouted in surprise, rubbing her eyes furiously against the invasive grit in her eyes that seemed to melt at a rapid rate. "Why!?"
"Look in the mirror." Melissa answered simply, earning an unamused glare. "Trust me."
Though still annoyed, Mritha did trust her sister, more than she trusted most. Rising and looking into the mirror, she gasped at her reflection. Staring back at her through the glass, was a stranger. "What… did you do?"
"Your hair was like your original armor, dark and heat absorbing. This color is still dark… but won't be as brutal when you fight in the sun. And I changed your eyes for no other reason than they would match your hair, make it more natural."
Mritha saw the logic in this, but was still unsettled by the stranger looking back at her. Brown hair, cropped short and slightly uneven for style's sake was highlighted with dark blue, purple and a small hint of pink. Her eyes, previously a deep purple but now matching perfectly with her dark brown hair, widened in panic when she saw the lack of wings peeking out from behind her back.
"As for your wings," Melissa began, reading her sister's expression and knowing what was on her mind, "I used a dust to hide them. No need to panic on me, I didn't remove them."
"W-what do you mean, 'hide them'?"
Melissa chuckled a little, amused. "How do you think fairies can walk among humans without being seen? We have a dust to hide our wings from sight. They are still there and are easily restored using the same dust, but cannot be seen." The fairy waved her hand behind Mritha, her arm meeting no obstruction. "And cannot be felt. The downside to this is that you cannot fly, but with Odgne around you won't have trouble getting around Lore when needed."
"You remembered me complaining about all the trees here… how I couldn't fly well between them and my wings were constantly snagging on brush and low limbs." Mritha mused, finally calming down.
"Yes, I remembered." The amused tone in her expression faded into slight worry. "Do you like these changes?"
Mritha turned back to the mirror, again studying her reflection. "It's practical, with unexpected style. However," she paused, thinking. Melissa's wings twitched with concern. She loved her little sister dearly and while practical, she didn't want her to be unhappy with the alterations made without her consent. "It's practical, but not permanent. I'll get used to it, and I am happy with it." Melissa smiled at this. "But gods I'm going to miss my wings, even if they hindered me here."
"War never lasts; we are steadily advancing against the Rose." Melissa said softly. "Even the recent setback will not slow us down."
"How long will you be staying here?"
"Now that the dusts I needed are made, the sooner I leave the better. The same goes for you, I assume?" The fairy asked, watching her sister pick up her sword and shield.
"Yes. We were passing through here on our way back to the Freedom Camp." The two walked out of the tent, Melissa stopping at the entrance. "I hate leaving you; I never know when I will see you again." the dragonlord lamented.
The older sister scoffed. "I can handle myself quite well, thank you. You are the one fighting dragons on a daily basis."
"We try negotiating first before resorting to a fight, and I have dragons and dragonkind sympathetic to our cause surrounding me always. You are in a small group out in the open." Mritha softened her tone. "Too many have been lost already, I worry about you."
Melissa reached for her sister's hand after her sword was left leaning against the tent. "Again, I can handle myself. If you spend all your time worrying, you will lose focus in a critical moment. Today we part ways, but we will meet many more times in the coming days."
The two stayed like that for several moments, neither wanting to leave the other. Finally, Melissa let go of her sister's hand. "Good luck, Mritha. And stay safe."
"You too, and give em hell."
"When do I not?" The fairy said with a small laugh.
Grabbing her sword, Mritha left her sister's tent and walked to a designated meeting place near the edge of Sulen'Eska where a red dravir in golden armor stood waiting. Without a word, the two walked side by side into the forest, vanishing into the green darkness.
< Message edited by Mritha -- 11/13/2013 18:53:33 >
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