As the man fiddled with the fire, Vyren tried to nonchalantly peer over and notice what he was doing. From what he could tell, it was simply a matter of striking the steel, and he settled back.
The fire was soon crackling, and it took him a bit before he realized the reason: Of course Frid wouldn't want to be found. Small fire at night means less people can see it, so you're safer. As the rabbit leg was produced, Vyren felt his mouth water. Tensions had been high at camp, and Tygar had started to dislike Vyren even more, and everyone could see it. He'd been the last one to eat for the past dozen trials, and by that point all the meat had been eaten. Dried jerky and travel bread is only palatable for so long, though the weevils add a bit of flavour.
He almost missed the old Avriel's question, so distracted was he.
"Oh, yeah. The Immortal..." He paused, realizing he hadn't said which one it was, and the story made it painfully obvious. Do I keep trusting him, or put up walls? He fell silent, letting the sounds of the desert settle between them.
As trills turned to bits, and he still couldn't make up his mind, he spared a look up to the fire. The dancing flames were mesmerizing, and they seemed to solidify his decision. I'll tell him. It makes sense to let him in, and hopefully he'll realize that and open up to me next time I need him to. Plus there's relatively little danger in confiding in him. I can always just keep him as a slave if I end up not trusting him.
"Raskalarn. It's one hell of a story, one I imagine you'd enjoy." He looked at the old man, a half smile crossing his face as he opened the old wound.
"It started about half a dozen arcs ago. I lived in Athart with my family. And yes, before you ask, we were free. Didn't know my parents that well, but they were still family. One day, I came back from work to find them all arrested. The whole house." He spit down to show his disgust.
"They were all killed. Slaughtered. Women, children, innocents. All because they believed my father was treasonous. Oh yes, the Avriel claim there was a "Trial"..." Vyren shook his head at the word.
"I'm sure you know about the Avriel justice system... Well I escaped. Wound up in the Empire. Joined a slaving caravan there, and spent a few years learning the tricks of the trade, before it happened. We went to Korlasir to sell a particular set of slaves to a particular client. Well unbeknownst to us, this client had decided to screw us over. I still don't know why, but we made the sale without any issues. They were a pair of sister animal tamers, and believe it or not they were worth two onxy nel. Pricy, no?"
He had gotten through the painful part of his story, and pushed on. "Well anyway, our leader told us the client was a member of the Order, but that meant nothing to me at the time. That night the Raskithecal broke into our Inn and arrested all of us. Somehow they argued we had commited treason. One by one we were tried, and found guilty. I remember turning around to look at the crowd gathered to watch, and I caught sight of the one we had sold to. The slimy smile on his face told me all I needed to know."
His voice rose and fell with the story, but he had to stop and clear his throat several times. The dry desert air was making it painful to speak.
"Well I challenged him to Trial by Combat, one of the Raskithecal's traditions. Somehow I won, and that was when she took notice of me." He left out the fact that she had only noticed him because he was Yludih, and continued.
"When I awoke after the fight she was there. We spoke, and she heard my anger towards Athart. She is coming, that much I can tell you. And Athart will be more than ready for her when she does, I'm making sure of that. For now, I'll be happy when the Avriel have fallen."
He leaned back against the rock again, and stared off into the distance, where the sun had set mere bits before. "We'd best get a move on- I'd like to sneak you into the group of slaves, and night time is the best bet. A friend is watching the slaves tonight anyway."
He rocked to his feet, and looked at the Avriel with expectation in his eyes.
The fire was soon crackling, and it took him a bit before he realized the reason: Of course Frid wouldn't want to be found. Small fire at night means less people can see it, so you're safer. As the rabbit leg was produced, Vyren felt his mouth water. Tensions had been high at camp, and Tygar had started to dislike Vyren even more, and everyone could see it. He'd been the last one to eat for the past dozen trials, and by that point all the meat had been eaten. Dried jerky and travel bread is only palatable for so long, though the weevils add a bit of flavour.
He almost missed the old Avriel's question, so distracted was he.
"Oh, yeah. The Immortal..." He paused, realizing he hadn't said which one it was, and the story made it painfully obvious. Do I keep trusting him, or put up walls? He fell silent, letting the sounds of the desert settle between them.
As trills turned to bits, and he still couldn't make up his mind, he spared a look up to the fire. The dancing flames were mesmerizing, and they seemed to solidify his decision. I'll tell him. It makes sense to let him in, and hopefully he'll realize that and open up to me next time I need him to. Plus there's relatively little danger in confiding in him. I can always just keep him as a slave if I end up not trusting him.
"Raskalarn. It's one hell of a story, one I imagine you'd enjoy." He looked at the old man, a half smile crossing his face as he opened the old wound.
"It started about half a dozen arcs ago. I lived in Athart with my family. And yes, before you ask, we were free. Didn't know my parents that well, but they were still family. One day, I came back from work to find them all arrested. The whole house." He spit down to show his disgust.
"They were all killed. Slaughtered. Women, children, innocents. All because they believed my father was treasonous. Oh yes, the Avriel claim there was a "Trial"..." Vyren shook his head at the word.
"I'm sure you know about the Avriel justice system... Well I escaped. Wound up in the Empire. Joined a slaving caravan there, and spent a few years learning the tricks of the trade, before it happened. We went to Korlasir to sell a particular set of slaves to a particular client. Well unbeknownst to us, this client had decided to screw us over. I still don't know why, but we made the sale without any issues. They were a pair of sister animal tamers, and believe it or not they were worth two onxy nel. Pricy, no?"
He had gotten through the painful part of his story, and pushed on. "Well anyway, our leader told us the client was a member of the Order, but that meant nothing to me at the time. That night the Raskithecal broke into our Inn and arrested all of us. Somehow they argued we had commited treason. One by one we were tried, and found guilty. I remember turning around to look at the crowd gathered to watch, and I caught sight of the one we had sold to. The slimy smile on his face told me all I needed to know."
His voice rose and fell with the story, but he had to stop and clear his throat several times. The dry desert air was making it painful to speak.
"Well I challenged him to Trial by Combat, one of the Raskithecal's traditions. Somehow I won, and that was when she took notice of me." He left out the fact that she had only noticed him because he was Yludih, and continued.
"When I awoke after the fight she was there. We spoke, and she heard my anger towards Athart. She is coming, that much I can tell you. And Athart will be more than ready for her when she does, I'm making sure of that. For now, I'll be happy when the Avriel have fallen."
He leaned back against the rock again, and stared off into the distance, where the sun had set mere bits before. "We'd best get a move on- I'd like to sneak you into the group of slaves, and night time is the best bet. A friend is watching the slaves tonight anyway."
He rocked to his feet, and looked at the Avriel with expectation in his eyes.
. I only RE-noticed this the other day.
