From the Ashes

[Laveriel]

From the Ashes

15th of Ash, Year 122 of the Age of Steel

A few days had passed since the dawnmartyr emerged from the Warrens. Iselya had come of the darkness out with Novuril in her hand, her quest fulfilled. It was supposed to be a joyful day, her order had claimed what had been lost. But she wasn’t ready, not yet. So, she asked for a bit of time. In a week’s time, she would return to Illuminacras with the Sword of Dawn, but for now, she needed time. For what, she couldn’t quite say either.

And so, Iselya and Valron returned to their old home, a small thing in the Commons. It had been abandoned for a while now so the first thing they did was clean up. Like it was any other day. The siltori was grateful that her companion understood her silence, didn’t question her. Although, he could hardly hide the gaze of concern he kept giving her.

They fell back into their old habit. So, just like the day before, the siltori went out to shop for some food supplies. The market wasn’t a long walk and she had been enjoying the trip more than usual. The sunlight greeted her with a warm hug and for once she embraced the sound of the bustling street outside her home.

Dressed in common clothes, she blended with the crowd with no trouble. And despite her reservations, Novuril was strapped to her waist. While sheathed, the blade looked almost like any other weapon. But still, it was mostly hidden from view by her cloak. Truth be told, Iselya hadn’t tried unsheathing it even once. She wasn’t sure what might happen if she did and she wasn’t willing to risk it.

Perhaps carrying the sword around with her on errands wasn’t the best of ideas, but the dawnmartyr didn’t dare let it leave her sight. Even though the sword had been discovered, the siltori still couldn’t quite tell who took it to the Warrens in the first place. Was it the Master who murdered the Sunsingers charged to guard it or was it someone else entirely? Someone might still be after it. All she knew was that should the identity of the sword be revealed, the entire world would most certainly come for it. It was not a problem she could deal with at the moment.

For now, she needed to get some tomatoes.

[Laveriel]

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Iselya looked up and was greeted by the sight of Valron grinning down at her. She smiled back at him as he took a seat right beside her. They were both atop a giant boulder on the side of Lake Udori, a particular one where she always found herself wandering to when she had too many thoughts.

The siltori hadn’t really moved for the past few hours, her sandals and the sword set neatly by her side. Her feet were dipped in the cool water, making gentle ripples across the surface of the lake. If she just stared at the horizon, Iselya could almost pretend that she was back home. She used to perch by the sea all the time in Ailos, just looking out at the deep blue.

“Shouldn’t you be out tracking down a slaver or something?”

The golden-haired elf grinned and took out the pouch of coins, shaking it in front of her face to show off. “All done. I even got a treat for you.”

Valron dropped a warm paper bag on her lap. The familiar scent wafted out of the opening and she felt her mood lifting the slightest bit. Steamed buns filled with peanuts and sugar were one of her favorite foods. They sat in silence for a bit, eating as they both stared at the water.

Iselya sighed as splashed her feet. “I shouldn’t have this, you know.” The thought had plagued her nonstop since their return, but this was the first she had said it out loud. Somehow it only made her heart heavier, as if releasing the words into the air had made it come true.

Of course, he already knew exactly what she was talking about. “Iselya… You-”

“Did you know what I thought of the first time I woke up and found the sword still at my side?” The siltori let out a painful laugh, running her hand through her dark hair. A dark dream had visited her that night, one that she didn’t want to admit she enjoyed. “That I finally have something that could have a chance in wreaking havoc in the Imperium. Not what I should do to find Arcas and deliver this to him, but how maybe I will finally be able to murder the man that took-” she couldn’t even bring herself to say his name out loud “-him away from me.”

Valron looked at her steadily, his golden eyes luminous. “Then go. Enact your vengeance. I won’t stop you, hell, you know I’ll help you.” She knew he meant every word. “No one would be able to stop you if you decided to leave for Gel’Grandal, yet you’re still here. You’re not a saint. No one would blame you for wanting justice for what they did in Ailos.”

“That’s just it, shouldn’t a saint be the one trusted with such a holy sword, instead of me?” She thought of Andrus, the last known incarnation of Arcas, and her also her superior officer. He never seemed to waver or hesitate to do the right thing. He seemed always sure of himself. Iselya doubted he would even consider putting a personal vendetta over his duty to the Order.

Her companion shrugged. “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that they chose you.”