While planning her next course of action, Yeva is visited by an old friend.
Harvardr is made up almost entirely of yurts. While any single building may be disassembled and reassembled elsewhere, there are always enough left here that it has become it's own little village. What was once wholly a mobile camp of fisherman, sealers and whalers placed to take advantage of migrations is now just as likely to have full families, some who have been there for several generations.
She could only guess, by the burning of her eyes and exhaustion in her body, that "day" had turned to night and it was likely sometime before dawn. In Cylus, she had no way of really knowing, there was no suns to demonstrate the passing of time. Her shoulders ached, her fingers cramped. She had spent the entire evening talking to the villagers of Havardr, listening to their tales of Linca and his behavior. Yeva had faithfully remained by the Chief's side as she drafted her pleas to higher ups. Now, with dozens of scrapped papers at scattered around the yurt, she felt confident she had finally managed to express the enormity of her concern with enough respect and logic to prevent risk of sounding insane. She needed to get this right.
To the Order of Adunih, she wrote:
My fellow brothers and sisters,
Havardr is in dire straits.
After answering their call for Order involvement I have learned disturbing information. Linca has indeed taken to his bed but I fear it is not as simple as we had initially expected. Lince now lies asleep in a coma, with no physical signs of affliction. No fever, no shakes. No signs of internal trauma or distress. Initially, I was confounded, but... After a thorough examination, I was able to discover that the councilman now bears the Mark of Lisirra, known commonly among us as the Plague Maiden. In my professional opinion, if this curse is not lifted by the last frost, we may be facing a terror unlike Scalvoris has seen in decades.
The insects will return.
And if this curse attracts them...possess them...
There will be a plague if we do not act soon. Please send anyone you can spare. I know I ask much, especially in times of war, but I fear the thought of a future where I did not implore guidance. Linca must be given complete medical surveillance, at all hours of the trial. We must know at once if his condition begins to worsen.
I will continue to put my full effort into doing what I can. As it stands, none of the villagers seem to know how this curse came to be, or why it was laid upon Linca. I believe that is something that I must first uncover and it may require me to travel across the island for the answers I seek. Please aid me in any way you can. I know I am nothing more than a blue cloak ranking, but... if there was ever someone who could believe in miracles, it's me.
Yeva of Rharne
She was only one woman, staring at the storm. Yeva reread her handwriting and hoped its intentions were understood. Making minor edits, she blew the ink dry and did the same to the correspondence addressed to the Alberech herself:
Kura Mareth, Alberech of Scalvoris
You must be extraordinarily busy, so I will not waste your time. Etiquette must be cast aside in lieu of the information I carry. I believe Linca, fellow council member and Chief of Havardr, may be in grave danger. Perhaps even the entirety of Scalvoris, if the prophecies are to be believed.
We have not formally met, but I am a blue cloak member of the Order of Adunih and presently write to you from within the borders of Havardr. I had traveled here even in the midst of a hailstorm to answer the call of its villagers. Their chief has been subjected to an unexplained coma. I do not say this lightly. With no signs of sickness or injury, his condition is impossible. Soon, however, I discovered the truth. This man now bears the curse of Lisirra.
If this curse is not lifted by the warm season, this simple slumber will worsen. The bugs will rise and I do not know what will keep us safe if that happens. I have spoken with anyone here who will come forward with mixed success. Linca was a private man and no one seems to know the extent of his personal affairs. I must ask - has there been anything, any occurrences or concerns that have pointed towards bugs, or illness upon the island? I have been away from Scalvoris for some time and am unfamiliar with local happenings since Faldrass. In my plan to cure Linca, I first aim to discover how, and that leads me to the why. I will do my best.
Sincerely,
Yeva of Rharne
Now, as important as the writing was, Yeva knew it would mean nothing if it did not find its intended reader. With the war in full-effect, any obvious messengers with destinations to the council risked interception. That was something Yeva could not gamble. She decided then, that once ChiChi awoke, she would broach the topic of the other woman delivering them for her. Yeva loathed the idea of requesting ChiChi run her errands - after ChiCHi had been taken in, she would do anything she could to aid the Hero of Faldrass - but it was so much more than that.
Yeva trusted ChiChi, both in morale and in dignity. She knew what was at stake. She was competent.
Could the same be said for herself?
You are too hard on yourself, Baskara observed, breaking the silence in the cold night. She began to draw out of Yeva's hair, slithering skyward from beneath he woman's jaw to twist and peer at the medic's face, You have done much already. No one else has come to Havardr's aid. Not for this.
"Because they don't know! Or because they can't get here," Yeva knew she must have sounded stubborn to the diri, "I have to fix this, Baskara! I have to-"
If you are so incompetent, why do you take on responsibility? this caused Yeva to stop, Why not let another step in?
"Because-" Yeva's brow furrowed. Because she wanted to do this, "My life has to mean something. If I don't do this-"
Lies.
"What?"
Baskara turned away and began to lower herself towards the floor, her soft glow cutting through the darkness, You are not doing this for yourself.
"It's the truth," she insisted. For a moment, Yeva searched for a better way to voice her thoughts, "It's true I fear for Scalvoris, but..."
Why her? If this was really as dire as she believed, then she should step back and allow someone else - a gold cloak, maybe - to take over. But while she had petitioned for help, she never had intentions to walk away.
Because you believe you are capable, Baskara paused at the tent's flap to look back at Yeva, Because while the path is unclear, you wish to walk it. You know you can take the journey.
Baskara slipped through the tent's flap, leaving Yeva to ponder her wisdom. Was that true? The redhead stared blankly at the letter drafts and sighed in defeat. She dropped onto her cot and listened to the wind howl outside in waves, loud and silent as the village slept. They would be waking soon, likely with intentions of cutting the ice and seeing what they might be able to catch. Yeva tried to close her eyes. She tried to sleep. She tried to stop imagining the vision the stone had given her.
It was all in vain.
Yeva cursed and reached for her boots, unable to shake the restlessness that pulled her into the night.
Last edited by Yeva on Sun Apr 18, 2021 9:49 pm, edited 4 times in total. word count: 1261
"You should really invest in a more comfortable bed. This one's all lumpy."
Yeva had been absolutely certain that a few seconds ago, when she had been laying down on her cot, nobody else has in the tent with her. Yet the familiar voice rang out from behind her the moment her fingers brushed the skin of her boots, and if she looked around Yeva would find Tio stretched out across her bed like a cat. The little godling had his usual smirk plastered all across his face, and if he was at all aware that appearing uninvited in a woman's tent was a breach of a number of laws the lack of tension in his posture certainly didn't show it.
"I was wondering when you were going to go take matters into your own hands." He continued blithley, casting an inquisitive eye at the belongs in Yeva's tent. "Apologies for not answering when you shouted earlier by the way. I'm working for uncle Cassion these days, and he's very insistent that I not interfere in a mortal's 'story' directly. Spirits you should hear him; he's like a minstrel that only knowsone song sometimes. Pateince Tio. Our job is to show mortals the road Tio, not carry them along it. Should've gone with Saorie's offer instead."
He floated to his feet, defying gravity with perhaps a touch more grace than he'd been capable of during their last meeting, and strode closer. "Still I can feel the determination emitating from you now. You've made the decision to face this yourself, with or without a god at your back. Magnificent. Only when you're resolved to fight alone am I allowed to point you in the right direction. Now before you ask no, I'm not going to wave my hand and make Linca's curse disappear. I am the god of curses after all. I like them too damn much to destroy them myself. But I don't mind seeing them lifted by someone who'se put the work in. At least then they've served their purpose. As it so happens however I am able to help you out in a more... mortal capacity."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he handed to Yeva. Upon unfolding it, Yeva would find that it was a map of the Immortal's Tongue. It was wrinkled and torn, and by the looks of things slightly outdated, but one part of it had been hurriedly circled in ink.
"About five years ago I joined a fun little expedition to a set of ruins on the Immortal's Tongue." Tio continued. "As it so happened these ruins were some sort of shrine to Lisirra... or was it Moseke? Whatever. Fact was that a disease there was turning living beings into moss zombies, and it was threatening to spread over to the mainland. My team and I were able to stop it, but," for a split second Tio's cheerful facade cracked, "... there were some losses."
Then, like a switch being flicked, he was back to his exuberant self. "Anyway, along the way I may-or-may-not have touched a chalice that I wasn't supposed to, and may-or-may-not have been temporarily infected by the same plague. or was everyone else but me infected? I find it hard to recall. Whatever. Chances are that if we're talking about Moseke, Lisirra, a chalice, ruins and a plague, I'd bet my tight bottom that its got something to do with that old tale again. If you're looking for answers I'd start by investigating those same ruins. You can find them at the place circled on the map."
He floated backwards as if about to vanish, but turn back at the last minute. "Oh yeah, and do me a favour would you? Let me know if you cross paths with a mixed blood woman. She'll be in her twenties, probably armed, and is incredibly good looking. Her name's Petra."
Yeva jumped at the sound of a man's voice behind her and spun around, mouth dropping at the sight of a certain little godling, sprawled across her cot with no care in the world. He stretched and smirked, arrogant as ever and then floated to his feet with a grace she hadn't believed he was capable of, all while explaining his involvement... Or lack thereof.
"Maybe I'm saving that favor for a rainy day," Yeva quipped, biting her tongue before she spoke too freely. He didn't strike her as reliable, "A rainier day." Warm brown eyes watched his gliding approach, her own feet taking a cautionary step back in response. She had to look away to hide the surprise on her face when he revealed his domain - curses. The shock, however, was fleeting. Could she really say it was unexpected? Yeva had believed him to be an omen in all their other encounters, she just hoped he really intended to help her.
Tio held out a folded slip of paper, mundane in every way.
"What's this?" she asked, unfolding it.
His explanation began.
Expedition and moss zombies. For a moment the irritating bravado he always seemed to carry cracked and Yeva's brow furrowed. Sh lowered the map to look at him.
"I-"
I'm sorry.
Tio sparked back to life, easy breezy, ever nonchalant. Yeva huffed, feeling foolish for ever allowing herself to feel the first stirs of sympathy. He was fine. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she studied the map of Immortal's Tongue. By the end of the story, Yeva had questions. They would end up, however, largely unanswered.
"Wait - you touched the chalice? You've seen it?"
Thoughts, possibilities, raced through her mind.
Yeva began to pace the humble room, "How did you stop the moss? How is it contracted?"
She flipped through the stores of her memory, struggling to recall knowledge of a fungi which could cause such things. She could go to the library? Do some research? Maybe to the University and sort through their expedition records - at the very least it would be a way to find out if Tio was telling the truth. He had, after all, reached Immortal status through rather suspicious means... At least, that's what she assumed. Mortals did not become divine beings without sacrifice.
Yeva panicked at the realization that this was all real and it was up to her to fix it. "I'll look into it, thank you."
Tio pulled back, his good will spent, and Yeva held out her hand, "Tio, wait!" she paused, hesitating as she thought of his letter, "Do they... really call you bubbles?"
Tio tapped a finger against his chin, and his expression scrunched into a look of concentration as Yeva asked for detail on the moss virus. "Let's see now... I'm pretty sure it was touch based. As I recall one had to make phsyical contact with either the moss or someone infected by it in order to contract it themselves. It spread very quickly though." He tilted his head to the side. "I also though I had it for a while after I touched the chalice. But then I went outside and it turned out that it wasn't me who had it, but everyone else. Some sort of illusions were going on, but I never got to the bottom of that particular mystery." Then his expression lit up like a christmas tree. "Oh, but I did figure out how to stop it alright! Fire! Lots and lots of fire! I set pretty much half the island of fire to get rid of them, but that was perhaps a little bit of overkill on my part. Fun though."
His grin took on a cheeky edge as Yeva's final comment. "Only the pretty girls I met on the day I dealt with the virus do. You are more than welcome to as well. Adios!"
