Stormchild: Emeline and the Forest Mage

10 Ysbrug

"Step steady on the bridge of fate and listen to the keeper's words."

~ Unknown Author (A saying oft whispered around fires in the North)

Erdil

They approached the bridge and Ketiya took the lead. Avétk rode beside Emeline. She had expected that they would cross the bridge immediately, one at a time, on foot, or something like that. Instead, Ketiya turned right at the top of the rise.

'Avétk? Aren't we crossing?' she asked in confusion.

'Be patient, Em.' Avétk shook the reigns of his steed once, and the horse promptly sped up. 'We gotta see the Warden first.'

'Oh!' Emeline bit her lip and looked sideways at the snowy landscape. She shook Abigail's reigns once too, just as Avétk had done, and caught up to him with a little trot.

Keeping her mouth shut a while suddenly seemed an excellent idea, seeing that she always ended up saying the simplest things. So she pinched her lips shut with determination, her hips swaying in her saddle to the beat of Abigail's hoofs. Holding her tongue would be a struggle. Mother had reprimanded her for her foolish words many times, and the scoldings bit into her heart.

They arrived as Ketiya swung her legs off of her horse's back. She stroked Maxim's face, smiled and cooed, whispering into his ear as she held his jaw. Then she slapped him fondly on his behind, and he strolled off to the first verdure he saw. The horse proceeded to nibble on the greenery and Abigail ambled over to join him, with Emeline still on her back.

Emeline shrugged and swung down off Abigail's back with the grace that comes from experience. Once her feet were firm on the ground, she brought her hands to where her skirts would be intending to straighten them, and was reminded that she no longer had skirts. She smiled.

The little stone house stood down a white stone pathway, snowy and unkempt. Sure didn't look like anyone was there, but Emeline did not speak her thoughts. Avétk, still on his horse, clopped down the pathway right up to the entrance of the stone house, got off, and drew his dagger as if it were the thing to do in these sorts of situations. And who knows, maybe it was.

The little shack did look abandoned, and maybe something dangerous lurked inside. Ketiya clucked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and stomped after Avétk, mumbling about his incompetence.

'We can't go in there swinging our swords at the Warden. He will never let us cross!' Ketiya threw her arms in wild gestures as she argued.

'I wasn't gonna do anything to the man, it's just for safety sake.' Avétk lifted his palms up in innocence. 'Besides, no one's here. I can tell.'

'Huh.' Ketiya folded her arms, watched him from the corner of her eye, and clicked her tongue once more in disdain. Emeline walked up behind Avétk and hid in his shadow, you know, just in case there was something dangerous in there. Ketiya knocked on the old door, her one foot tapping. They looked at each other in anticipation. A minute passed.

'I told you,' Avétk said, 'he's not-'

The old door burst open, and Ketiya leapt back in surprise.

'Here,' he finished.

'Good golly waggle, what year is it?' A very old skinny man popped out of the door, walking stick in hand, as he shouted. A man bent over with age, grey beard dragging on the ground. This didn't stop him waving his limbs around with grand gestures as he spoke. 'Where's Vargin? That old bitch! Someone's got to sort her out! Hang on, hang on. Let me grab me things and we'll be off.'