Post by Eurydice on Mar 17, 2008 10:26:47 GMT -5
It was nearly a day now, since Valas had brought her to relative safety at the hands of his employer, lord so-and-so, and Kirjava was only just beginning to catch her breath.
It wasn't just the characteristic dizzy haze of her illness, now receding, keeping her disoriented, nor was it the mad dash to get across the border, but rather the whirlwind change in her life that had started abruptly, a few days ago, when the tall, pale stranger with red hair burst in on her and derailed her life. She hadn't been able to think, at the time, that she was terrified, that this might have some lasting effect on her-- self-preservation had been her only concern at the time. He needed a place to hide, and she would provide it without screaming for the guard; it was a simple exchange.
Now, she was sitting in some impenetrable keep, in her own room, with fine linen sheets and a soft mattress cradling her. Someone even stood guard outside her door, as if she had reason to fear for her safety from anyone in this place. Valas had introduced her to his master when they'd first arrived, promising that they would talk soon.
For her part, Kiri didn't know what to do with herself but lie in her room, recover her strength, and wait to wake up from what was surely an impossible dream.
She couldn't even begin to think of what she was going to do now.
The problem was, she had spent so long on the run, so many years able to focus on nothing but fleeing for her life, that there was nothing else of her left. She carried the scraps of her former life with her-- the rapier her father had made for her birthday once hung at her side; her familiar, Wildeor, trotted behind her or curled up in her bag, next to the few spell components she could afford; the clothes on her back had been washed and mended by hand a hundred times; the ring on her left middle finger hugged her flesh, an extension of herself; and that was her everything. Her skin was pale as death, for she rarely ventured out in daylight; her coal black hair was snipped at a nondescript, unfashionable shoulder-length cut, which she did whenever it grew too long to manage otherwise; and even in this fortified sanctuary, her eyes roamed the walls and doors restlessly, constantly seeking her pursuers.
She had nothing but her flight to cling to. Her family and her only friends were buried half a world away. She had no hobbies, no special talents that weren't purely to aid in her avoiding detection, no purpose but survival, and hell, she wasn't even sure why she was so desperate to survive anymore.
She considered Valas with muted envy. He had been granted a new lease on life. He had been given direction, a master, a purpose, access to any material possessions that he needed, and beyond that, the knowledge that what he was doing would have an impact on the world around him. Perhaps he loved having that role, glad for a chance to serve in his own way, and perhaps he was just resigned to it, for he had known little else in this lifetime.
She envied the fancy dagger at his side, the new task he was given every week or month, the way people stepped out of his way, in this place, for fear and respect; she envied the knowing look given him by the older man who had met them at the border, silent and swift, and the favoring glance of his pretty elf companion. But most, she envied Valas for having a lord to serve, protective, paternal, all-seeing. She remembered having direction like that, a lifetime ago. She had known then that she would have to give it up some day, and she knew, on some level, that it would pain her, but then that security and belonging was wrenched away prematurely, and she was left with nothing but her two feet to carry her as far away as she could manage.
She missed being smart, doing well at her classes and earning a pat on the back. She missed her peers and those fierce, pointless, intellectual debates that they had shared. She missed her brother and sister. She missed doing something that, she thought, mattered.
Worst of all, she had not thought of any of these things in years, but seeing her new guardian here with that same wealth and security and purpose and respect threw their absence in her life into such sharp relief, and she wondered if Valas really knew how lucky he was.
With some effort, she got up from the bed. At the far end of the room, there was a desk and bookshelf, amply supplied with paper and pen. She sat, flexed stiff fingers, and began to write.