CHAPTER TWO
WYVERI (WHY-VERY)
"Oddities and Mysteries"
There was nothing better than Cyrian's baking.
"Mmph," Wyveri half moaned as she took another bite of toasted bread. A crunch rang out as her teeth gnashed at the bite and a few crumbles fell to the wooden table from the edge of her fingertips.
She had been wandering all over the northern valley in Harborstone's borders for weeks, it wasn't like Wyveri minded the cold. The lack of good food though, that she missed. Wyveri would rather her bones rattle from a chill than deal with food that she sucked at making. She could wrangle a boar with the best of 'em, but cooking the damn things was a different story. Toasted bread was like ichor of a divine compared to burnt rabbit legs,
"Another loaf for ya milady?"
Wyveri looked up from her hands towards the barmaid. She had dirty blonde hair that was kept up in a messy ponytail. Wild strands hung down her cheeks in thin curls, but it accented her soft blue eyes. She felt warm, like there was a cozy fire always lit at her heels. Wyveri caught the distinct smell of freshly cut grass before her focus fell back on the food in her mouth.
"Mmprh," Wyveri grunted, taking a moment to swallow everything. "No, I'm good."
"Are we expectin' anyone," The barmaid asked, gesturing to the empty chair on the other side of the table. "Would you like a cuppa for them?"
Wyveri threw the barmaid a thin smile. She was just doing her job, but all Wyveri really wanted was to finish her food before the boss walked in. The more she paid attention to others, the less appetite she had.
"Nah," Wyveri said, placing the roll of half eaten bread down. "My boss doesn't know how to have a good time, she'd just dump it somewhere and act like she drank it. I'm fine miss, no need for anything o'er this way."
The barmaid smiled, but Wyveri caught the slight tinge of irritation that reddened her eyes. A sale not made was probably bad for her. But the place was doing more than okay, Wyveri refused to feel guilt for it. For a town that had been nothing but charred and broken buildings just a decade ago to be something this sizable, she knew damn well everyone here made a good amount of coin. She didn't even hear what the barmaid said before she turned on heel and went to the next customer.
Wyveri raised the loaf to her mouth, but a creaking turn of old hinges stopped from taking a bite. She looked towards the door that led into the Knight's Inn and sighed. She didn't need her Grace-Sight to know that Ljolfey had shown up. Before the woman walked in, Wyveri could see a cloud of mist that preceded her. Ljolfey wore a unique aura that Wyveri hadn't seen in any other. A fog of icy wind followed her like a dark cloud to a nihilist.
Wyveri dropped the loaf of bread and clapped her hands together a few times. Just as she had feared, the barmaid had taken up enough time that Wyveri wouldn't get to finish her meal. At least, not right now. The Fàine woman leaned back into her chair and propped her right elbow on the corner knob of the chair's back. Her eyes shimmered a moment as she released the control she was keeping on the Grace-Sight. The blue ink that covered her eyes and upper cheeks subtly glowed, and the shackles fell away completely.
Ljolfey walked in, and Wyveri spied a few details in just a few seconds. The claw scar that stretched across Ljolfey's face looked more irritated, almost like the cut just happened a few hours ago. That and her eyes hollowing out like they were… That meant bad news.
The leader of the Arlacks noticed Wyveri leaning back and wasted no time in striding towards her. Wyveri caught a whiff of mildew, like stepping into a dark basement, as Ljolfey pulled the chair back and plopped down. She didn't have her weapons with her, and before she could stop herself, Wyveri let a chuckle slip past her lips.
"Well boss, whatever ya got for me, I'm sure it'll be a hoot and a half without ya," Wyveri followed. Better to commit to it than to attribute it to her Grace-sight.
"Now see, I thought you couldn't read minds," Ljolfey jabbed. A half smile tugged at the claw scar, scrunching her cheek in tandem. "I suppose you know of the meeting I've just come from then."
Wyveri shook her head. Ljolfey was usually right, but contrary to anyone's beliefs, she couldn't read minds. It was just pointing out the obvious.
"So then," Wyveri said. The legs of the table groaned as Wyveri leaned forward. "What's the problem? I swear, im not goin' back to that valley, Erik or Luther can deal with that fro—"
"Stop," Ljolfey interrupted. The smile had quickly melted into the same dour expression she had walked in with. "It's not that. There's a series of tremors that is shaking the ground along the northern coastline. A fissure apparently opened, just last night. That's where I need you."
Wyveri saw a flicker of ice that fell around Ljolfey's sitting form. She raised an eyebrow in response and leaned back into her chair.
"How the blazes didya want me to stop a quake? I can do some weird stuff, but stopping natural shite is out of my wheelhouse."
"There's something that is causing them," Ljolfey replied, shaking her head. "Marigold, Jonas and Tempus are there right now, and they're nothing but confused."
"Shocker," Wyveri smirked. She detested Marigold's cheery company, Jonas was full of himself and Tempus tried too hard to be something he wasn't. Although they, like her, had survived the hellish trials that had turned the lot of them into the Arlacks. There was at least that one piece of respect that Wyveri had for all of her comrades in the Arlacks.
"All they can tell me so far is that it's not natural. Which is why I want you there."
"There's something else," Wyveri said pointedly. Something was lingering. The air that rolled around Ljolfey vibrated slowly, like fear crawling up your throat.
"Veri," Ljolfey sighed. She rubbed her eyes a moment before continuing. "You're not going to be doing it alone. King Edahn is heading to the tremor site as well, and he's all but declared that he plans to take the lead."
So that's what the angst was about. The man who had once slaughtered just under a dozen clans of Fàine-folk almost a decade ago was going to be there. Wyveri had yet to meet the man, but that was because of work more than anything. She rarely set foot into Speirtalahm as it was. Meeting the Thorn's Flame wasn't something she looked forward to. Though she couldn't deny there was an almost masochistic curiosity swimming in her veins. It had taken days upon days for Ljolfey to recruit Wyveri specifically because of the Thorn's Flame.
Wyveri had been insistent that he would rather chop her head off then to have one of the Fàine-folk in his unit of elite warriors. Ljolfey on the other hand had been just as insistent that the man he was now and the man he was then were two different entities. It looked like she was about to find out whether she wanted to or not.
"Mmh," Wyveri grunted. She picked up a piece of bread and tore off a piece. It wasn't as warm as it had been before. "So I get to lay eyes on the Flame himself eh? Should be a hoot and a half. How's he feel about it?"
"He doesn't know who you are. Or where you come from. I'm afraid he'll have to find out when he meets you." Ljolfey said. A light danced across her eyes before another half smile scrunched up her cheek.
"So ya mean to tell me that not only do I gotta stop the ground from shaking, but the bassa who killed well over a thousand of my folk is going to be lookin' o'er my shoulder the whole while? How do yanno the man won't kill my ass dead right there and then?"
Wyveri wasn't as concerned as she pushed her voice to sound. There was a glimmer of joy that came from making Ljolfey's day just a little more difficult than usual. Well. Really that was everyone. But doing it to Ljolfey was usually more entertaining.
"I am begging you, do not be difficult with the man. Not only that, but. Hey!"
Wyveri had started to pay attention to her bread more. She looked back up at Ljolfey's muted blue eyes and smirked, but otherwise stayed quiet.
"Leave your assumptions on the table with the bread," Ljolfey said in a stern tone. "He's not the man you think anymore than you being the monster in his mind. This is an important thing. You don't add sticks to a wildfire,"
"Oh no,"Wyveri snickered, dropping the bread. Crumbs scattered off the edge of the table and fell to the ground. "No see, he's the bassa who starts the fires. But okay mum, whatever ya say. When do I need to be there?"
Ljolfey rolled her eyes at the 'mum' nickname that Wyveri usually referred to her as. "Yesterday. Finish your food and head there immediately. Here."
Ljolfey pulled a piece of parchment from empty space and threw it in Wyveri's lap. "That's the map showing where you're headed. You got anything else?"
Wyveri shook her head, her raven-colored curls bouncing in the air with the motion,
"I need to visit the cemetery here though," Wyveri replied. She pulled a few chunks of old coins from her pouch and cluttered them onto the table before she stood up. "Got family I always visit when I come through Creagloch."
The humorous glint danced across Ljolfey's eyes again, but all she did was nod at Wyveri's words. The scarred woman, satisfied with the orders having been given, turned on her heel and quickly left the inn. Wyveri picked up her broadsword that had been leaning against the side of the table and slung it over her shoulder, carrying it much like a backpack with a single strap.
She could hardly have guessed she would be meeting the big man at the top. Even less so in terms of being asked to stop tremors.
Then again…
What was life without a mystery or two to solve???