Seeking answers

[Sebastian Arcturis]

The groan of frustration startled a small herd of deer that were grazing hidden in some of those grasses and shrubs. The snap of twigs and brush, along with the splash of hooves and flash of white tails over seconds after it began, the beasts darting over the stream and out of sight and earshot once more. The nearby birds were much less perturbed.

There had been, in fact, recent footprints on the trail. Human ones. But the game path was narrow and twisted enough that they were easily missed. Should the woman's eye be drawn to the deer's panicked dash, she might notice a stay scuffed boot print in the muddy bank, as though someone slipped a little in the damp earth. It seemed someone else was following the stream. Upwards, after the meandering fashion of water flowing downhill.

At least until one hit the small snag of a waterfall. It wasn’t a very tall cliff, only the height of a two story building, the worn stone slippery from the spray of the water. It would be possible to climb, carefully. Easier with pitons or rope. Otherwise, one could go around the long way…

Close inspection for more footprints would suggest a few partials near the basin of the walls with none leaving the area. Scrambling over the rocks closer to the falling water itself would reveal a well concealed (if still very dangerous) narrow rocky way up that, while not quite stairs, bore an eerie resemblance. A path not for the faint of heart.

[Aoife Lee Frye]

Aoife was alerted to the herd by the snapping of twigs and pounding of hooves moments before they came into view- rushing across the stream and disappearing within a moment or two as the woman watched without a word. For some reason, she had expected the peak to be desolate and lifeless. Instead it seemed to mock her loss with it’s life. It would have been peaceful, had her mind been less occupied, with the babbling of the stream and the singing of birds… instead, Aoife found the noise distracting rather than soothing.

With a sigh, the woman followed the path the deer had made- churning up the muddy bank in a flurry of hooves during their startled dash. The frustration in her rose once again, and Aoife seated herself on a fallen tree by the river to keep herself from pacing and churning up the mud anymore than it already was. Hands found her head, fingers massaging her temples before working their way through the length of her hair.

This had been a waste of time.

She’d travelled all this way for what? For nothing. No answers, no closure, not even the smallest of hints.

Halfway up a mountain for a herd of deer and a headache.

Groaning once again, though this time it seemed there were no deer to startle, Aoife lifted her head from her hands- grey eyes blinking as they adjusted once again to the sunlight. Looking around, the mystic almost considered calling it a lost cause and riding home to either hound Sebastian Arcturis once again or pursue another avenue of enquiry… perhaps another warden, if she could find one… when her eyes found the stray print. Despite the onslaught of hooves, this had somehow survived, and it looked as though it had been made by a boot.

Someone was nearby, or at least had been recently.

She leapt to her feet. Suddenly much more alert to the fact that she may not have been alone up here after all. Internally, Aoife cursed herself at not being more prepared- for riding up the mountain with little more than a shortsword at her waist (having not even tried to retrieve her staff from wherever it had wound up) and a few vague words from the Captain. Unsheathing the sword, Aoife began to carefully follow the trail.

Slowly, alert to her surroundings, Aoife allowed herself to be lead further and further up Nephim peak. Up to a waterfall. Over increasingly precarious rocks. Until Aoife was forced to sheathe her weapon in order to haul herself up a staircase like rocky structure- knuckles white and teeth gnashing with the exertion by the time she reached the top.

For a while, all she could hear was the blood rushing in her eardrums and the waterfall behind her.

[Sebastian Arcturis]

It certainly seemed like the Warden Inquisitor deserved a gpod hounding from here. Even if there were answers at the top of the mountain, the least he could have done was...well, given a little more direction. Of course, discretion and vagueness were the point, but he could have been less of an ass about it.

Fortunately for both Aoife and Sebastian, the mystic was indeed not alone in making the journey to the top of the peak today. Even more fortunately, they seemed to know something that the mystic did not, no thanks to a certain taciturn guard.

The top of the falls were just as damp as the bottom but with less mist. There were no more footprints, but the undergrowth and trees were swept back from the side of stream and it wound up slightlt further and around a rocky outcropping, with just enough bank to the side to walk along, though there would be a lot of ducking under draping branches and leaves.

There wasn't much to hear above the falls beyond the rushing of water crashing into stone, but as one drew further around the rocks, they might hear faint (and slightly out of tune) humming of what was likely a lullaby.

On the other side, the trees opened up to a small clearing with lush wild grass and orange and red flowers. It was littered with various sized standing stones, many coated in moss, some much less so, arrayed in a radial pattern and eminating from, of all things, a wooden gazebo-like structure at the center.

It was open to the environment but built of many slats and lattices, providing an amount of privacy to the inside and protection from much of the elements. The flicker of a candle or small fire could be seen through the gaps but very little else from this angle. Above the scent of grass and dew and wild lavender was the soft smell of smoke. The humming would continue, provide there was no noisy footsteps or other sudden sounds like gasps or groaning from the mystic.

[Aoife Lee Frye]

Aoife didn’t know what possessed her to move forward, to keep going- ducking under branches and weaving carefulling through the game trail. Perhaps it was the vague, distant hope of answers. The small chance that this path lead towards some kind of resolution- it was the only hope she had after all. They’d given her nothing all those months ago, and now all the captain could give her was the name of this mountain. She was clutching at straws, but it was all she had to clutch at- and the mystic knew it. Perhaps that was why she kept going, though the damp was beginning to seep into her clothes and every ounce of logic told her that this was another wasted journey.

Or perhaps not.

The woman hadn’t known what to expect, at this point she had almost come to accept that this path would have no natural end… it seemed to wind up the mountain ceaselessly. So when the trees finally broke and Aoife found herself in a clearing: surprise was the first expression to cross her features. Pausing, the mystic took stock of the scene before her before daring to step out of the protective shadows of the trees and brush.

Standing stones were not uncommon in Teronna, but Aoife couldn’t recall ever seeing them at such a height before- which meant they meant something. Or had done at least, to whoever had dragged them up such a treacherous climb. Unless they had always been here?. No, that was a stupid thought. Next, grey eyes found the centre of the arrangement and her heart skipped to see the flickering through the slats. She wasn’t alone. Perhaps this hadn’t been a wasted venture after all. Or the Captain had sent her into a trap… after all, she had been playing with fire by seeking out a warden. For all Aoife knew, Sebastian Arcturis had known about her grammyre and it was only for Alasdair that her head didn’t find it’s way to the chopping block. But she wasn’t thinking of that, instead the woman was creeping forward at a crouch- the shortsword drawn as she moved towards the small shelter.

Though stealth had never quite been her strongest skill, she was far from useless and Aoife managed to reach the small shelter without making more noise than a whisper. Her breath low and shallow, tense and alert, grey eyes tried to peer through one of the many slats and lattices in the hopes of seeing something. Of seeing anything.

[Logan Baird]

The guard came here a lot. Used to be he came here with Captain Arcturis, but Logan understood the man mishandled his grief differently. So he came alone to visit his daughter and those who had saved his other children.

The small gazebo structure wasn't designed to be a shelter from the cold. As such, Logan was bundled up, a heavy cloak over his usual guard uniform and armor. True, the climb would have been mich easier without the extra weight, but he bore it as a reminder. Of the protector he should have been for Ainsleigh. What he still had to be for Adaira and Anders. He knelt on a tattered woven mat, arms tucked around himself for warmth, a scrap of paper clutched in one hand, humming the song he sang at night whenever his little warrior couldn't sleep. It was an epic of sorts about a lone warrior that never gave up. It wasn't supposed to be sad exactly but....it was not.

The small flame was a collection of candles slowly burning down. After another moment, Logan finished the song. He sat in the natural silence for a moment before, watching the candles before getting to his feet, intent on pulling himself away from the moment before the tears started again.

[Aoife Lee Frye]

It took her eyes a moment to adjust, pupils widening to make the most of the scarce flickering candles. Aoife was not sure just what she was witnessing. A man, kneeling alone as he filled the air with song. It felt as though she was intruding, as though this was some private ritual she had stumbled upon, for a moment she felt guilty- and then she remembered she had been sent here. Perhaps this was what she was supposed to have found. Or she had been supposed to come across an empty hut on a windy peak and leave with even more questions.

She didn’t recognise the man. Which only served to set her more at edge when he did eventually rise to his feet. Unbidden, fingers tightened in the shortsword in her hand. He was bigger than the mystic, and she was out of practice, but that didn’t mean she doubted her chances if it came to it.

Aoife didn’t know whether to confront him, to reveal herself, or whether to try and follow the man. There were so many unknowns and so little time to evaluate them. No time to think clearly. He was armoured. She was not. He was protected, but she was faster. She could always just run if it came to it- but she didn’t know the peak and he almost certainly did.

But she had come here for answers, and she wasn’t leaving without them.

So she waited, coiled and ready, for the man to turn and leave. Standing, Aoife stepped away from the shadows and into view- the sword still in her hand though not raised. Every nerve fired as she waited for the man to notice her. Grey eyes took in every detail, the guard uniform, the scrap of paper in his hand, the heavy cloak bundled over him, and the wash of tears in his eyes- threatening to spill. She did not miss a thing. But still, she didn't soften but rather waited for him to break the silence.

[Logan Baird]

Logan stopped short at the sight of the armed stranger. That the weapon wasn't poised threateningly in his direction hardly mattered as much as it was drawn. He wasn't exactly welcome on this mountaintop despite knowing where it was. It had never occurred to him that he might see anyone else up here. Even when he had visited the first time with Arcturis, the captain had implied there was an unspoken rule about only one person visiting the shrine at at time.

Whether he was familiar with the woman or not, any consideration of that was lost to the immediate threat. His instinct was to crumple up the paper into a pocket but he feared such a move might encourage the woman to raise her sword more directly. Logan lifted his free hand slowly, more in a 'calm down' gesture than any indication of surrendering.

There stretched a tense moment of silence until he realized she wasn't going to break it. In that moment, he wasn't sure which of them was the interloper. His armor gave him away a bit, but her...she had a sort of rugged elegance about her. He wasn't entirely sure who this place belonged to to know, one way or another.

Logan cleared his throat. "I'll be...leaving now?" His voice trailed off, uncertain what she wanted. He blinked back the wetness in his eyes as he spoke but didn't move, waiting for some sort of indication that he might be allowed to do so safely.

[Aoife Lee Frye]

The seconds stretched out. Neither moving. Neither speaking. Aoife wasn’t even sure if she blinked as the silence spread between them. Even the birdsong seemed to have stopped as the two strangers regarded each other. The man seemed surprised to see her, and yet not angry to have been intruded upon- it all served to make the mystic even more confused. Once again she had come in search of answers and was only given more and more questions.

As his had raised, slowly, Aoife felt her fingers tighten around the hilt of her sword. Almost imperceptible, unless he had been looking for the slightest movement. It didn’t matter to her that the gesture was slow, deliberate, as non-threatening as he could have made it- they were still alone up here, and Aoife was naturally on edge.

"I'll be...leaving now?"

”What is this place?” She said, nodding towards the shelter from which he had emerged.

[Logan Baird]

Her question caught him off guard again, words drawing his eyes up from her hand tightening on the hilt of her blade. It answered a little. She wasn't a regular here. But the chances of her stumbling on the place by sheer accident were slim, especially not knowing what it was.

Logan glanced out at the standing stones and lumpy unbroken green grass. He supposed, if not for the shrine at the center, he too might have thought it just another strange ruin like so many that littered the country, it's use long forgotten. Only this one wasnt. It wasn't a carne or burial mound or even really a graveyard, he supposed. To his knowledge, not very many were buried here. Or if they were, there wasn't much of them left.

"...a shrine." He cleared his throat again awkwardly, still not moving since she still hadn't put away her weapon. Logan looked back up at the woman's tight eyes, ttying to read her expression and not getting very far. "If yer gonna stab me, I'd prefer we go down the falls first. Spiritual sort o'place, you know. Wouldn't want my daughter to see that." He stumbled over the last sentence, his tone earnest. Logan was not going to just let her harm him, but he did have a healthy superstition about places like this and he would rather not invoke any dark spirits or wild magic.

Unbeknownst to him, he might have already been found by one such.

[Aoife Lee Frye]

He seemed so confused, disorientated even, and Aoife was acutely aware that she had disturbed more than just the guard’s solitude up here. No, she had stumbled across something atop this blasted peak, people didn’t just wander up a game trail and plonk a shelter up there for the hell of it. The stone circle suggested mystic activity, or at least a site that had belonged to the old ways- well back before living memory, past recorded history even… but the uniform, the armour, suggested royal guard. And the guards were generally not fond of her kind, of the old ways and the magic that ran through Teronna and it’s people. The juxtaposition set her on edge, and the mystic didn’t know what to think any more than the man opposite her.

Grey eyes didn’t leave his face as he glanced over the standing stones which surrounded them, didn’t wander to observe the scenery but remained steadfast and searching for the slightest sign of a threat. ”Where is your daughter?” Aoife asked, suddenly aware of the shift in the odds should the guard decide to attack- a man defending his child was much more of a threat, a child alone was no real danger… but any assailant the former couldn’t see was a factor she did not like against her. Though Aoife was almost certain she had only seen the man in the shrine- though in the half light of the candles (long worn down to stubs), it would have been easy enough to miss a child. The way his voice faltered, there was something there she recognised- a hurt in it that seemed all too familiar. ”I was expecting Captain Arcturis, or nothing, this is neither.” The woman admitted, eyes narrowing, wondering (not for the first time that afternoon) just what wild goose chase she had been set upon.

[Logan Baird]

Logan didn't exactly come here because he liked the view or the surroundings or whatever lore the place carried around with it. Frankly, it made him nervous. Whatever it had used to be, he was here for what it was now. He swallowed in the silence, gritting his teeth together to to try and release some of his nerves that way since he had a feeling moving would only put her more on edge. The woman's intense gaze didn't help.

Her question caught him off guard just as much as seeing her when he turned around had. The man's mouth worked for a second, not sure how to explain, not sure he could explain, but very certain he needed to say something to defuse the moment before things got further out of hand. He bit the inside of his lip, expression softening. "She's...not here." He meant that in a few ways. "She...died. Last year. This is...well, she's not buried here, but..." He wasn't really sure why he was saying anything to the stranger, but once he started it was a little difficult to stop. "I know she visits someone here," he insisted.

Arcturis. That...that made some sense, except that she seemed to have been given even less information that he had. And hadn't been escorted here. He looked the woman over again with newfound understanding. "You, uh, lost someone too, then?" Logan wasn't sure how much to say. He couldn't imagine Arcturis would tell just anyone about this place, not when he had sworn Logan to never speak of it, not even to his wife.

[Aoife Lee Frye]

She watched his expression soften with visible confusion… but still, the woman refused to lower her guard. Visits? Dead? That didn't make any sense, the dead were gone, their energy returned to the earth and made unrecognisable in the trees and the birdsong. That was what she believed at least, as comforting as it could be to think those who had passed still walked with them, Aoife had spent many moons waiting for a sign, for anything, and nothing had come. Meaning he was either still out there, somewhere; or he was dead and gone forever. It was the first possibility that both kept the mystic going and held her back. "What do you mean? She visits… you know someone who can speak with the dead…?" the woman asked, brows furrowing as her mind leapt to a multitude of conclusions. A charlatan no doubt, why would a guard seek the help of a mystic? Even in his grief. And why would a mystic help him? Was conversing with the dead even possible? She had not heard of such a gift unless it was the act of a false mystic- peddling hope for the price of a piece of silver. Someone to be trusted even less than the guard before her and the captain who had sent her here.

”I don’t know… he wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t talk to me. Just mumbled the name of this place as though it would help.” It would have been impossible to keep the frustration from her tone, so Aoife didn’t even try to. ”I don’t even know what happened, if it was here or somewhere else or even if something happened at all.” Once she had started, it was difficult to stop: the words came tumbling from her lips like the waterfall below them. ”And after all that, there’s nothing her but some old stones and a shack and a stranger. How was any of this supposed to make things clearer?” The mystic asked, gesturing to the scene with her free hand.

[Logan Baird]

Logan blinked at her. "Speak to the...what? No!" Had he said that? No, certainly not, so where the hell was this woman getting such a hair brained idea from? He talked to his daughter, sure, yeah, that was...a little strange he supposed, especially because he did believe she could hear him in certain places such as this one that were closer to the spirits, but he didn't speak to her. That implied a conversation of two sides, which he wasn't having. So why with this woman... "You mean...magic?" he asked, his brown wrinkled in confusion. "No, no, nothin' like that," he said perhaps a bit too hastily, suggesting his distaste for the concept. Magic had been what killed Ainsleigh, after all.

"He doesn't talk much," the guard noted quietly with a hint of amusement. It certainly sounded like the captain. Still, it was odd he had told the woman the place and nothing else. Arcturis was dense and taciturn, yes, but this seemed downright stupid of the man. He considered suggesting the captain meant well but...that was an assumption.

He was quiet as she explained her loss, his arms slowly dropping to his sides. He was struck by the lack of information she had, not in the least because it was familiar. "After my Ainsleigh died, the captain took me here. I...asked the same things. He...didn't say much. I..." Logan blushed slightly and dragged a sleeve over his eyes and then forced a chuckle. "I hit him. A lot."

"Eventually, after I stopped ballin' my eyes out, he told me 'bout one of the guards that had been with her. He saved my other kids." His eyes drifted toward that specific mound unconsciously. "He's who she visits, I think."

[Aoife Lee Frye]

She couldn’t help but feel a little crestfallen at that, for a moment Aoife had allowed herself to believe that this man had spoken with his daughter up on this peak and amongst the ancient stones. She had believed it was possible, that it could be done, and if the man before her could do it- then maybe so could she. Maybe she could have spoken with him, found out if he truly was dead and gone or if he was still with her- somewhere or somehow. But as quickly as that hope had come, it was gone, snatched away with the word ’No’ and repeated several times for good measure. Each time driving the pain that little bit deeper.

Finally, Aoife dropped her guard: shoulders releasing their tension, her fingers loosening their grip on the pommel until the sword hung limply, weight shifting until she stood at ease- free hand finding her hip. ”I, I noticed that.” The mystic agreed, frustration rather than amusement colouring her tone. The captain could have saved her a climb if he had just been a little less secretive and a little more talkative this morning. ”I’m glad you did, hit him I mean, something tells me I would not have gotten away with it.” Not that Aoife had written off the idea, after literally being sent up a mountain before spring had really begun to take the edge out of the biting cold.

”What happened?” Aoife asked, leaving the question general, open, she had come here for answers after all.

[Logan Baird]

Logan didn't know next to anything about the summit. He knew it had a sort of...eerie feel about it. Like the veil between reality and the spiritual world was thin. Had he known the place possessed some natural magic, while he would not have been surprised, he would not have been comfortable with it. Magic was dangerous. Magic had taken his daughter from him. Even if it could let him talk to her he would have bristled. That sort of magic was a question for someone who knew the peak better than either of it's current visitors.

The sword fell and the guard felt himself relax, his shoulders falling. Though now that he had started talking he was less worried about the paper. He snorted. "I didn't. Get away with it. Turns out it's a crime to 'assault your commanding officer.'" He shrugged. Arcturis hadn't pressed him about it too much but considering it had been a public affair, there were rules they both had to follow. There weren't any rules about a noblewoman putting a common soldier in his place however.

The direct question made him realize both that he was talking to a stranger and that he actually sort of needed to talk regardless. "My wife and the kids were visiting family. Out in the country. The 'fficial story was bandits." Maybe they were bandits. But they had been more than that. "Course most bandits can't make the ground move," he spat the implication. "I wasn't there," he said, fists tightening for a moment and then he sighed and un-crumpled the paper and looked at it a moment before wiping a hand over his face. "They were forced into the barn. Two soldiers tried to fight 'em off and were captured too. One of them wrote this 'fore they caused a distraction so my family...most of them could get out. Not really sure what happened after that, but the barn was a heap by the time I got there. My wife found this with...with our daughter."

Reluctantly, he offered the woman the note. On one side, written in a straightforward, tight hand was some sort of report. It was coded in some strange script, but if Aoife had ever seen her late fiance's handwritting, she'd know it was his. On the other side, the note Logan was speaking of, was in a similar script but larger, written with a finger and with mud or perhaps old blood. It was hard to tell. It read "do not look back.'

"Not very charmin', I know, but..." He shrugged. It meant something to him. At least the one side. The other...Logan had never been able to decode it and had stopped trying a while ago.