23rd of Spring, 519AV
”Clean the kids, just the ones with names, and change them. Make yourself useful. You can at least do that until you find your…. family.” The sour old hag sneered at Lolan, and the Drykas child frowned in return. She had felt the raw dejection of this place over the past few days. They had locked her in a room and starved her, only giving her enough water to live, but not even a bucket for her to waste in. Luckily after the first few days without food, there was little waste to pass, but the situation was worse in other ways. The young girl found herself regretting her last fight with her strange cat guardian. The lion, which utterly terrified her, had been stalking her for the better part of two seasons, and she wanted nothing to do with the Kelvic who thought herself a Drykas. She took the aide the woman gave when it was necessary, but she had no intention of moving out into the wilderness, a dangerous place that Ixzo had said was safe. Now it seemed Ixzo had been telling the truth.
Lolan knew the Kelvic was more worried about the slavers returning for her, but Lolan was almost certain the Kelvic had killed all of them when she was first rescued. Now she had nothing to fear in the city… or so she thought. The old woman who sneered at her had offered her a bowl of stew and a night’s rest. Naturally the Drykas had been suspicious but at the sight of other children and even more babies, she was convinced it was a safe place to take refuge and care from. Only, it was a face. In less than a day Lolan found herself in the room, and only now, nearly twelve days later, was she being released. Her already scrawny arms had somehow withered to almost nothing coated in a thick hair she had never possessed before, and the effort of staying awake was exorbitant. When she managed to focus on her will to escape, her thoughts always clung to Ixzo. The Kelvic had been right. You were right.
”What are you doing! On with it!” The sharp smack of the wicker switch on the back of her legs resounded in the room, and Lolan gaped at the scene. The bright giggling babies she had seen when she was first lured in were not here, instead it looked to be a graveyard of children. The grey dusk filtering through the window painted the morbid atmosphere before her. A few cried and screamed, but many more lay without life, or so Lolan thought. Scared of meeting the pain of a switch again, Lolan rushed forward, falling to the nearest crib she could find. A chalk ‘X’ had been slashed on a board at the base of the crib and the child looked in dire need. Their diaper was soiled past any normal color and their breathes were shallow and irregular, a worrisome sight on the skeletal shadow of what used to be an infant.
”No not that one, one with a name.” The old lady sneered again, and Lolan tried to tear her eyes away from the child as her divine gift recounted the horrors that the short life had been through. There was something else tugging at her divination, a familiar shadow stalking her at a distance. Lolan slowly meandered to the nearest baby that seemed to have a name on it, although it was in better shape, it was still not taken care of to the extent a baby should. It’s diaper too was soiled, but it at least seemed fed with some regularity, bundled in a blanket that the other child had not had the luxury of. Carefully Lolan reached into the crib to remove the child, slowly walking towards the changing table in the corner of the room, or what had once been a changing table. There were no fresh rags to change the child into, which made the inexperienced child hesitate. She had no idea how to do any of this.
The sharp hiss of the wicker flew through the air and the Drykas braced herself for its sting, holding the baby carefully in two arms and then biting her lip as the fresh welt threatened to spill the tears from her eyes. Trying to act as if the recent hit had not bothered her she carefully placed the child down on the changing table and then turned to the old hag, the strong Drykas spirit still strong in the displaced child. It made sense to her now, what her divination was telling her. It was not of the past, but of the present. The shadow was familiar, it was the same dark figure that had followed her for two seasons, it was Ixzo... and another. The knowledge that her protector was coming for her, even after so many times she had rejected her, gave the small child confidence that someone in her situation should not have had.
”You’re in trouble now.” A nefarious tone dripped into the child’s voice and her frail face creased into a knowing grin as she watched the brief flash of confusion on the old lady’s face that was quickly overshadowed with rage and anger. ”They're coming.”
Logically Ixzo knew that Lolan didn’t want to see her, the Drykas had told her as much many times this season already. The brief familiarity and friendship they had shared had been ruined by Ixzo’s insistence on the child’s safety. She didn’t trust this shyke-hole of a city, and she didn’t want the vulnerable child living in it… by herself. But Lolan hadn’t listened. Instead Ixzo had opted to keep an eye on the child from afar, Lolan could refuse her help, but Ixzo was determined. Only, she hadn’t found the child in the past few days. Lolan was known for moving spots frequently, but also staying near her other street urchin friends in Sunberth. There was a sort of unity between the children who didn’t seek out help from orphanages that Ixzo was beginning to recognize. She trusted Lolan with them, if she had to choose from the worst options for the child.
But she had not seen her or heard from her in too long. Ixzo counted ten days, although she was sure it was longer than that. She was used to going two or three days before finding the child again, Lolan was her only reason to come into town now. But ten days? Something was wrong. In an effort to find her, Ixzo had delved into the tent city, hunting down the twins that Lolan associated with most and asking them where she was. They had sited her near the gated community twelve days ago, just after their fight, but had not seen her since. Ixzo had followed the hint to the gated community, fairly unfamiliar with the place. She had sold meat to them once or twice, but had not been permitted to enter the gates, and she wondered if it was because of how she looked. Not just her scars and tattoos but her matted unkempt hair and yellow teeth. She had not been taking care of herself, she knew it.
The afternoon sun was beginning to darken to an orange as night threatened above. Ixzo waiting for Leth’s cover, at home with it and knowing it would aid her oncoming hunt. She was going to get Lolan out. She had spent the better part of five bells circling the gated community, trying to see inside as best she could and figure out if Lolan had gone in. Only during one of her frustrated breaks, did Ixzo notice what she was missing. Across one of the avenues from the community was a red brick building. It was not as dilapidated as the building surrounding it, but looked to be inhabited. She had watched a single woman walk in, spend less than half a bell, and then be thrown out of the front door by an older, angry looking woman. During that moment, she had glimpsed a sitting parlor, and a crying infant that it seemed had been ripped out of the woman’s hand, but it was being in the arms of a child, a child she recognized. Lolan did not see her, nor did the woman, but Lolan looked utterly shocked by whatever events that had transpired to require the visiting woman to be throw out. But just as long as it took them to remove the woman, the door was shut and Ixzo could no longer see inside, but her anger had already flared. She knew Lolan was in there now, and she was going to get her out, even if the little Drykas hated her for it.
Her hair was matted and gross, her stench strong from having gone just too long without a bath, Ixzo wore a simple linen dress and unfastened boots. It was not dyed, but it was stained with use and her life in the woods. Mud mixed with dried blood dressed the hem of her skirts, and food stains fell on her breast from sloppy eating. She looked like the homeless vagrants of Sunberth, not her usual prideful self. Still, beneath the neglect was the permanent art of her tattoos and scars speaking of her warrior’s upbringing among the Myrians and Drykas, even as shameful as she appeared now. What this simple attire did afford her though was camouflage. She was hardly looked at in this city, and straight up avoided by the more expensively dressed denizens making their way to and from the gated community with heavily armed guards watching the obviously wild woman carefully as they passed. Although her dress was simple, she wore her belt with her ax, and her kukri. It was simple attire and weapons, but the lion didn’t think she needed much, she had her claws, after all. As soon as Ixzo narrowed in on the building, she began circling it too, but she was no longer looking for clues on where Lolan was, she was trying to find a way in.
Ixzo strolled through the alley-ways surrounding it, meandering as best she could with her angry anticipatory steps so that she did not draw attention from inside, but still trying to get as best a glimpse in the covered windows as possible. The parlor in the front had opened windows with old yellowed glass letting in as little of the setting sun as possible, but no one was in there. All other windows were covered or boarded, some without glass any longer.
At this time, with the sun making its last escape down the horizon, Ixzo found herself at the back of the building, large dark fingers probing the weakest board over one of the windows. The Kelvic took a tick to glance down the alleyway for ground-based witnesses for a tick before pressing her left palm up against the board and her ear as well. Her gnosis did not tell her of any light on the other side, although she could hear the soft mumbling of voices, neither of which seemed very friendly. Ixzo didn’t need much more information before she was focusing on peeling the nails out as silently as possible, taking her time to do the work. There was almost no one in this particular alleyway, since she had about one foot before the next building was sidled up to her back, and the window she was peeling at was up by her face, six feet in the air. It was not on very many people’s radar to be protected… or repaired apparently. The spring rains had softened and molded the wood boarding, and although Ixzo felt splinters lodging themselves into her finger pads, the determination of getting inside was more important than inconvenient pain. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would find on the other side, but she was determined to find Lolan.
Lolan knew the Kelvic was more worried about the slavers returning for her, but Lolan was almost certain the Kelvic had killed all of them when she was first rescued. Now she had nothing to fear in the city… or so she thought. The old woman who sneered at her had offered her a bowl of stew and a night’s rest. Naturally the Drykas had been suspicious but at the sight of other children and even more babies, she was convinced it was a safe place to take refuge and care from. Only, it was a face. In less than a day Lolan found herself in the room, and only now, nearly twelve days later, was she being released. Her already scrawny arms had somehow withered to almost nothing coated in a thick hair she had never possessed before, and the effort of staying awake was exorbitant. When she managed to focus on her will to escape, her thoughts always clung to Ixzo. The Kelvic had been right. You were right.
”What are you doing! On with it!” The sharp smack of the wicker switch on the back of her legs resounded in the room, and Lolan gaped at the scene. The bright giggling babies she had seen when she was first lured in were not here, instead it looked to be a graveyard of children. The grey dusk filtering through the window painted the morbid atmosphere before her. A few cried and screamed, but many more lay without life, or so Lolan thought. Scared of meeting the pain of a switch again, Lolan rushed forward, falling to the nearest crib she could find. A chalk ‘X’ had been slashed on a board at the base of the crib and the child looked in dire need. Their diaper was soiled past any normal color and their breathes were shallow and irregular, a worrisome sight on the skeletal shadow of what used to be an infant.
”No not that one, one with a name.” The old lady sneered again, and Lolan tried to tear her eyes away from the child as her divine gift recounted the horrors that the short life had been through. There was something else tugging at her divination, a familiar shadow stalking her at a distance. Lolan slowly meandered to the nearest baby that seemed to have a name on it, although it was in better shape, it was still not taken care of to the extent a baby should. It’s diaper too was soiled, but it at least seemed fed with some regularity, bundled in a blanket that the other child had not had the luxury of. Carefully Lolan reached into the crib to remove the child, slowly walking towards the changing table in the corner of the room, or what had once been a changing table. There were no fresh rags to change the child into, which made the inexperienced child hesitate. She had no idea how to do any of this.
The sharp hiss of the wicker flew through the air and the Drykas braced herself for its sting, holding the baby carefully in two arms and then biting her lip as the fresh welt threatened to spill the tears from her eyes. Trying to act as if the recent hit had not bothered her she carefully placed the child down on the changing table and then turned to the old hag, the strong Drykas spirit still strong in the displaced child. It made sense to her now, what her divination was telling her. It was not of the past, but of the present. The shadow was familiar, it was the same dark figure that had followed her for two seasons, it was Ixzo... and another. The knowledge that her protector was coming for her, even after so many times she had rejected her, gave the small child confidence that someone in her situation should not have had.
”You’re in trouble now.” A nefarious tone dripped into the child’s voice and her frail face creased into a knowing grin as she watched the brief flash of confusion on the old lady’s face that was quickly overshadowed with rage and anger. ”They're coming.”
∆ ∆ ∆
Logically Ixzo knew that Lolan didn’t want to see her, the Drykas had told her as much many times this season already. The brief familiarity and friendship they had shared had been ruined by Ixzo’s insistence on the child’s safety. She didn’t trust this shyke-hole of a city, and she didn’t want the vulnerable child living in it… by herself. But Lolan hadn’t listened. Instead Ixzo had opted to keep an eye on the child from afar, Lolan could refuse her help, but Ixzo was determined. Only, she hadn’t found the child in the past few days. Lolan was known for moving spots frequently, but also staying near her other street urchin friends in Sunberth. There was a sort of unity between the children who didn’t seek out help from orphanages that Ixzo was beginning to recognize. She trusted Lolan with them, if she had to choose from the worst options for the child.
But she had not seen her or heard from her in too long. Ixzo counted ten days, although she was sure it was longer than that. She was used to going two or three days before finding the child again, Lolan was her only reason to come into town now. But ten days? Something was wrong. In an effort to find her, Ixzo had delved into the tent city, hunting down the twins that Lolan associated with most and asking them where she was. They had sited her near the gated community twelve days ago, just after their fight, but had not seen her since. Ixzo had followed the hint to the gated community, fairly unfamiliar with the place. She had sold meat to them once or twice, but had not been permitted to enter the gates, and she wondered if it was because of how she looked. Not just her scars and tattoos but her matted unkempt hair and yellow teeth. She had not been taking care of herself, she knew it.
The afternoon sun was beginning to darken to an orange as night threatened above. Ixzo waiting for Leth’s cover, at home with it and knowing it would aid her oncoming hunt. She was going to get Lolan out. She had spent the better part of five bells circling the gated community, trying to see inside as best she could and figure out if Lolan had gone in. Only during one of her frustrated breaks, did Ixzo notice what she was missing. Across one of the avenues from the community was a red brick building. It was not as dilapidated as the building surrounding it, but looked to be inhabited. She had watched a single woman walk in, spend less than half a bell, and then be thrown out of the front door by an older, angry looking woman. During that moment, she had glimpsed a sitting parlor, and a crying infant that it seemed had been ripped out of the woman’s hand, but it was being in the arms of a child, a child she recognized. Lolan did not see her, nor did the woman, but Lolan looked utterly shocked by whatever events that had transpired to require the visiting woman to be throw out. But just as long as it took them to remove the woman, the door was shut and Ixzo could no longer see inside, but her anger had already flared. She knew Lolan was in there now, and she was going to get her out, even if the little Drykas hated her for it.
Her hair was matted and gross, her stench strong from having gone just too long without a bath, Ixzo wore a simple linen dress and unfastened boots. It was not dyed, but it was stained with use and her life in the woods. Mud mixed with dried blood dressed the hem of her skirts, and food stains fell on her breast from sloppy eating. She looked like the homeless vagrants of Sunberth, not her usual prideful self. Still, beneath the neglect was the permanent art of her tattoos and scars speaking of her warrior’s upbringing among the Myrians and Drykas, even as shameful as she appeared now. What this simple attire did afford her though was camouflage. She was hardly looked at in this city, and straight up avoided by the more expensively dressed denizens making their way to and from the gated community with heavily armed guards watching the obviously wild woman carefully as they passed. Although her dress was simple, she wore her belt with her ax, and her kukri. It was simple attire and weapons, but the lion didn’t think she needed much, she had her claws, after all. As soon as Ixzo narrowed in on the building, she began circling it too, but she was no longer looking for clues on where Lolan was, she was trying to find a way in.
Ixzo strolled through the alley-ways surrounding it, meandering as best she could with her angry anticipatory steps so that she did not draw attention from inside, but still trying to get as best a glimpse in the covered windows as possible. The parlor in the front had opened windows with old yellowed glass letting in as little of the setting sun as possible, but no one was in there. All other windows were covered or boarded, some without glass any longer.
At this time, with the sun making its last escape down the horizon, Ixzo found herself at the back of the building, large dark fingers probing the weakest board over one of the windows. The Kelvic took a tick to glance down the alleyway for ground-based witnesses for a tick before pressing her left palm up against the board and her ear as well. Her gnosis did not tell her of any light on the other side, although she could hear the soft mumbling of voices, neither of which seemed very friendly. Ixzo didn’t need much more information before she was focusing on peeling the nails out as silently as possible, taking her time to do the work. There was almost no one in this particular alleyway, since she had about one foot before the next building was sidled up to her back, and the window she was peeling at was up by her face, six feet in the air. It was not on very many people’s radar to be protected… or repaired apparently. The spring rains had softened and molded the wood boarding, and although Ixzo felt splinters lodging themselves into her finger pads, the determination of getting inside was more important than inconvenient pain. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would find on the other side, but she was determined to find Lolan.
