O' children

Chapter 6: The Present is Ash

A lifetime of introspection couldn't steady an idle heart and Caysa found himself regularly looking at the letter or staring out across the forest to the faded blue line cut by the Tisgan Alps over course of the next day. There was a thrumming in his body, energy that needed somewhere to go that he could study or distract away.

It couldn't hurt, Caysa figured, to just check Albin's usual spot again, just to sate the ceaseless curiosity.

The late afternoon was cool, crisp breeze lazily swirled the canopy leaves. Caysa only felt his heart beating, his arms and legs were little more than phantom sensations that barely prompted his senses. When the clearing came into view, Caysa's heart sank. The beating slowed again, a tired crawl. The river was bubbling cheerfully and Caysa sat himself on the riverbank. Slowing down, he found that the forest was strangely quiet, the birdsong muted and distant, like this patch of forest was holding its breath in anticipation.

Caysa sat back up, turning his head to scan the tree line. The sound of crashing water had Caysa whirling around to see a great white dragon rising out of the depths, clawing onto the riverbank. Caysa slapped his hand over his mouth before he could let out a scream and alert the dragon of its next meal. Pushing himself backwards across grass and dirt, the white dragon shook water from its head, enough to practically drench Caysa. Caysa swore at himself, worse than some elaborate trap, he had run ass-over-head into pure misfortune.

Ah, Caysa thought to himself as he near clawed his face off holding his scream in, no doubt Aron will avenge me.

"Galanta, love," A voice like a well stoked fire had Caysa whipping his head around, wait, Galanta? "You are scaring him,"

In foreign garb that looked reminiscent of the clothes worn by the people of the Oza Continent, stood a woman, average height with black-brown hair worn half-up half-down and secured by an elaborate hairpin, depicting a metal sparrow landing on a twig of small pink flowers. She smiled down at Caysa, soft, wide lips, rounded nose, and narrow, dark eyes. She looked rich in her white-grey skirt and loose, silky jacket laid over her shoulders, rich and kind and familiar. Familiar in the way that other Imran devotees were all familiar to each other.

The white dragon huffed out a long sigh, relaxing into a sitting position like a massive hound. A slim, brown hand appeared next to Caysa head, and he jumped, heart leaping frantically against his throat. Caysa scrambled upright. He was taller than the Oza woman. Looking at her again, she seemed phantasmal in a way, her hair and dress barely swaying in the breeze. Caysa felt positively bedraggled as she gave him a quick up-down look then raised her hand to her mouth to cover a small laugh.

"Caysa, my child," she said, intensely earnest quaver to her voice, Caysa nearly asked if he was literally her child, "How you've grown,"

"Uhm," was all Caysa could force out.

"Ah, stupid me. I should introduce myself first," she gave a wide smile, hand over her heart, "My name is Danrho, I am- was a close friend of your mother,"

"That-"Caysa took a deep breath, trying to find the correct words to respond, "How can I trust you?"

Danrho laughed into her hand, "Very wise, please, put out your hand,"

Caysa looked at the space between them, measuring up the likelihood that they meant him harm.

"Caysa, I assure you, if either of us wanted you dead, we could have already killed you. Take this as reassurance," Danrho said, her voice clipped. Caysa stuck his left arm out towards her. The sensation of seeing without feeling lurched Caysa's stomach, though her hand lay on top of his, no warmth or pressure radiated from her, Caysa blinked in shock and between closing his eyes and opening them again, the world sickeningly shifted.