Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer
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Marietta had always felt safer when there was a plan. Plans were stable. They created guardrails… managed expectations. Yes, sometimes they were inadequate - like the fiasco with the duskskulker last year - but the fault there lay with the planner, not the plan. Still, Marietta had believed it was better to have a plan than go without, and then Kala had blown into Keken and changed everything. The comedy - and looking back it was funny - had begun when the ranger was stopped on her way out of the Baron’s Manor by a stranger’s hail. “Well then, it’s about time.” The woman, perhaps a finger or two taller than Marietta, was standing amid a collection of bags and resting one hand on the hilt of the sword at her hip. “I’ve the address, so let’s be about it then.” Marietta paused, frowned at the blonde-haired woman’s accent. She wasn’t from Hron; a factor from the capital, perhaps? “I’m sorry, Goodwoman, but-” “Oh, there’s no reason to be sorry,” she replied breezily, hefting a pair of bags up before thrusting them out. Surprised, the forester reflexively accepted the load as the stranger continued on. “Though I’m afraid it’s Lady. Strictly speaking, Lady Kala, second daughter of the honorable Viscount Reeve, Sword-Brother of the King, Defender of Bregalum,” she blew out a breath and shook her head. “Talk about stultifying.” Kala’s green eyes practically danced as she added another bag to the collection in Marietta’s arms. “And as I said, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. Arthon said he would send a porter. I expected him to return with said porter - struck me as a bit of a stickler for details, the Goodman. But now that you’re here… Well, I’ve certainly no complaints. Shall we?” Shifting the burden in her arms, the half-elf tried again. “I guess he can be, Lady Reeve, but I don't-” Kala hoisted a bag herself and shook her head decisively. “No, most certainly not! Kala will do just fine for ‘sleepy Hron’, thank you.” Marietta glanced around, but no help was forthcoming. Exasperated, she hurried after the noblewoman and tried again. “Lady- I mean, Kala, I’m not sure what-” “You ask a lot of questions, for a porter,” Kala observed, fingers drumming along the hilt of her sword. “Not that I mind, of course. ‘An inquiring mind is a mark of character,’ or however father put it when he was admonishing me to pay more attention to my books and less to my horses.” They passed into the market, gathering stares the way new faces tended to in Hron. “Never could stand the books, preferred the practicals. Do you read, perchance?” The half-elf did her best to keep up as Kala darted from point to point. “A little, yes. My mother taught me.” Kala glanced over her shoulder. “Mm, a rare skill out here, I take it. Though on the subject of mothers, I realize I’ve been quite rude - mine would task me for it, no doubt. What was your name… porter?” It was an opening, and the half-elf plunged into it, trying to ignore Kala’s grin. “Marietta. Marietta Drevosa, my Lady, that is, Kala. Forgive me, please, but I’m not a porter.” The young noble peered at her, grinned, and then started to laugh. Marietta blinked at her, which only made Kala laugh harder, until the ranger dropped the bags one by one into a stack at the edge of the plaza and pivoted on one heel. Her plan to storm off was arrested by the pressure of a hand catching her wrist. “Wait, please.” Marietta stopped - it was the please that did it. Why on earth would a Viscount’s daughter use that word with her? Kala’s smile was different now, there was something tentative in it. “I knew,” she admitted, shrugging one shoulder elegantly. “I mean… look at you. A porter? Pigs would fly. But you’re the most interesting person I’ve seen since I got here, and I could still use the help. I’ll make you dinner to make it up to you. What do you say?” A noble, cooking her dinner? Marietta looked from Kala, to the bags stacked around the two of them, to the calloused hand still gently holding her wrist. “I…” She had so many other things to do yet today, but the words that tumbled from her lips were: “I guess that’s alright.” The radiant expression that blossomed across Kala’s face was delighted, infectious, and in that moment Marietta knew that she was in deep trouble. Kala had never seemed to have a plan. Spontaneous market trips, surprise midnight swims, they all taught Marietta that maybe it wasn't so bad to just... do things. That didn’t change the fact that in times of trouble it was comforting to have a plan. Marietta scrubbed at her eyes, then reached up over her shoulder to draw an arrow, nocking it before finally looking at Luca. “Same plan we started with: Reach Pinewatch. Figure out what is happening. Stop it.” That wasn’t particularly detailed, and if they actually encountered Muuka’s “aegis security matrix” Marietta had no idea how they would deal with it. And you said I’d never learn to improvise, Kala. Luca seemed to accept the answer, or else he kept his concerns to himself. Either way, the ranger kept walking, glancing up at the distant moon. They were still on the right track. Not that there were many turn-offs on the logging road, but things were certainly different than Marietta had expected- There was a crackle at her feet, and the forester looked down at her boots. A bird - its skeletal remains anyway. Marietta sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth and stepped back, eyes darting back and forth. Dusksulker boneyard. But that... She frowned. That couldn't be right. There wasn’t a duskskulker lair anywhere near the Pinewatch road. “These lapses of attention will do you in.” The voice was clear, distinct, and for a moment the half-elf could feel someone at her back, close enough that their breath stirred her hair. Despite that, her eyes were drawn up to the moon above them, and Marietta drew in a sharp breath. “Luca, it’s broken.” That was one way to put it. There was a flaw, a crack, a ragged tear along the surface of the distant moon. "Broken, or broken-hearted?" The bow and arrow clattered from Marietta's fingers and she wheeled around - back the way she and Luca had come from. A rising wind whistled through the hollows of skulls and rattled fingerbones from the piles, nearly covering the forester's choked voice. "K-Kala?" “Oh come now, Mari, I know that it’s been… Well, it’s been a while." Kala's golden hair was string and straw now, the leather of her hauberk tattered and stained, but the rusted sword in her hand swept-flicked-whistled all the same as the gaunt noblewoman cut an elegant bow. "More than one while, mm?" "But you... How did you... What happened?" "Talk," Kala sighed. "So long, and you want to talk." Her eyes flitted-shifted-leapt to Luca. "And you, Forsythe? Blather, or bolero?" Marietta stepped up next to him, casting Luca a momentary, confused look. "What are you talking about? Kala, this isn't like you-" "You'd know. Wouldn't you, Etta?" Kala's smile was wide, feline. "Yes... I remember that one now. Etta, and Mari, and darling little lamb." For a moment her head tilted-angled-pivoted to the cracked moon above, and Kala shivered. "Did you plant the tree like I asked, after you took my sword?" The ranger's hand fell to the hilt at her waist, and Kala's grin turned feral. "I'd walk through death and eternity to close my hand on that grip. Dance with me, darlings. Help me remember the steps." “Kala,” Marietta grimaced, drawing the shamshir from its sheath slowly. “Don’t do this, please.” The noblewoman rolled her shoulders. “Please, pleas.” In her hand, the ancient sword quivered, and then the moonlight around Kala rippled. Her back arched, her eyes blazed, and Kala hissed through clenched teeth. “The blade, Marietta.” Another hand, spectral and misty, tore free of her chest, followed a moment later by the other, and then a head and shoulders. It was Kala, a ghostly facsimile anyway, seething out of the skeletal noble before a second emerged in its wake. Kala sagged, sinking the pitted tip of her blade into the turf to support herself. “Either way, I’ll hold you again.” Her gaze flicked to Luca, and Kala’s smile grew. "And I'll give Aewyn your love, when I see her." The spectres howled and surged forward, Kala hard on their heels.
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