Dryad Eyes, part 32.
This entry comes in at exactly 1900 words. :D
Ytyrra stood upon a rocky outcropping, a hundred feet above the first wall of Keeper's Gateway. The sky had just begun to lighten toward morning. Her keen eyes were able to take in much of the city in that limited light. It was almost beautiful, as far as fortresses and cities went. Why, then, did it fill her with such unease? Like a snake in the water, it seemed as though there were something toxic just beneath the surface. She would be glad to be away from this tainted land, and happier still if she could convince her son to leave with her. Somehow, though, she doubted that that would happen. Ytyrra smiled, remembering what her dearest sister, Myrie, had told her when she had expressed the same sentiment earlier.
"He is stubborn," she had said, a smile of her own on her lips. "A bit too much like his mother."
Whatever it was that so bothered her about this ancient fortress would have to wait, she decided. Some mysteries needed time to be solved, and that, even for one as old as her, was a precious commodity. She had come to this strange, distasteful land for two reasons. First, she wanted to see her son. It was selfish, perhaps, but true. Secondly, it was her duty to deliver to him a kind of message. Given the tragedy that had unfolded between her sister Lauriel and the man they had taken from the city for questioning, she could ill afford to waste any more time than she already had. Her sisters, her charges, were hurting and afraid. To protect them, she had to move them away from this place with all due haste, and so it behooved her to proceed where she would have preferred to wait and watch a bit longer. Myrie had advised her to go into the city, find Geran's room, break in and speak with him whether he wished it or not. Ytyrra, fortunately, knew her son better than that. As she would be disgruntled, on some level, should he suddenly step out from behind a tree in her home and broach a subject of import half a breath later, so too would he not appreciate her sudden appearance. She would approach him through semi-official channels. Tonight, she would gain the lay of the land, and perhaps, if she were lucky, approach either Treyp or Eyrenya, asking one or both of those younger sisters to ease the surprise of her visit for her son. It would be better if he expected her.
Family qualified as semi-official, did it not?
Unfolding her legs, Ytyrra stood upright. Her cloak and her long, dark, red-streaked hair whipped about in the biting, cold air. It did not bother her. She could not hear Grandfather's voice in the way that the Wind Nymphs could, but she was comfortable in his company. Closing her eyes, she took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with that cool, bitter air, and found it invigorating.
It was then that a sound came unbidden to her preternaturally sharp ears. Twisting sharply about, and dropping low to better maintain her footing on the small bit of rock she stood upon, she spotted one of her Sisters making a fast approach. It was Amiendyn, stubborn and impulsive, who followed the treacherous path by which the Eldest Sister had arrived at her perch. A series of carefully calculated leaps, handholds and swings carried the younger woman forward. Where Ytyrra's own movements had been perfect, economic, and as graceful as high poetry, Amiendyn's motion was nothing less than the finest of art in motion. The former allowed herself a smile full of pride, even when the latter's foot slipped on the final landing, and she had to be caught.
"Well done, Sister!" Ytyrra cried over the wind in their native tongue, congratulating Amiendyn even as she hauled her up and onto the suddenly crowded rocky outcropping.
"It was a small feat," the out-of-breath new arrival called back.
"A small feat that, perhaps, three of the Sisters who accompanied me to this place could duplicate." The older woman squeezed the younger's shoulders with affection. "Modesty is an admirable trait, but do not attempt to use it to refuse credit when it is due."
"Well.. I slipped."
"And I was here to catch you. That is my sacred duty." Ytyrra took her younger Sister by the chin and forced her to raise her head so that she was looking her in the eye. "What is wrong, Little Sister? You may speak freely, for we are almost certainly alone in this place."
It would have taken a blind eye to miss dark circles beneath Amiendyn's eyes, the puffy redness that accompanied them, or the new tears that threatened to fall. She had seen little sleep these past few nights. The Eldest Sister knew what had caused this. It was not a difficult guess to make. She had also known, however, that her willful and quick-tempered younger Sister was not one to press on these matters. Doing so would have done little, save cause her to become even more standoffish on the subject. Amiendyn would open herself up when she was ready, Ytyrra had known. That was why she was here.
"I... apologize, Sister." Came the sad, strangely broken voiced reply. It was a strange sound to emit from this one's mouth. "I have been thinking... too much. About what happened. About Lauriel. About the man, Thanik. What happened. I..."
"You grieve, yes?"
"Yes."
"Sit with me a moment, Amiendyn." The Eldest Sister turned and lowered herself, smoothly folding her legs beneath herself. She again took in the Keep, again shook off her concern over what dangers may lurk within it. After a moment, the younger Sister was sitting beside her.
Ytyrra took her hand. "Tell me about him."
"I told you every detail I learned from him on a nightly basis. What else... "
"No, Amiendyn. Tell me about him. Was he kind to you?"
"What? What does... ?"
"When you were Amandine. Did he treat you well?"
"I... suppose so." ]
"He never hurt you? Nor forced himself upon you?"
"He couldn't have. I'd..."
"I know, Sister. I know. But he never tried?"
"No."
"He gave you gifts, yes?"
"...a flower, once. Nothing valuable."
"Nothing expensive, you mean." Ytyrra corrected her gently.
"Yes." Sniffling loudly, Amiendyn wiped at her leaking eyes. Leaking, too, was a bit of her old temper, burning away the timidity that had shown itself minutes before. "What is the point of these questions, Sister?"
"I am sure that he also complimented you often, was always happy to see you, and probably never asked twice in a row when you had already said no." Ytyrra sighed and gave the younger Sister's hand a sympathetic squeeze. "You, being who you are, would not have so warmed to him if he had."
Silence, then, for what could Amiendyn say to that? She knew, as well as did the Eldest Sister, that she had not been in love. There was no denying the truth, however, in that she had come to harbor some kind of feeling for the man she had been asked to spy on. It had been a task that she had been eager to take. Today, she was not certain that she would ever agree to such a thing again. It had left her heartsick. Did that make her at traitor to her sisters? She asked this question, and followed it with another.
"And what of the things I did with him? Things that were well above the call of duty."
"Pah." Ytyrra flicked her wrist. It was a dismissive gesture, as if she were ridding herself of a crawling pest. "You are a Dryad, Amiendyn. Our blood runs hot, in many ways, and you liked him. He was a good enough man, from what little I know of him. It was his purpose, not his character, which made him our enemy. Whatever else may have passed between you privately, you never told him anything that could have brought harm to our Sisters. Did you?"
"Of course not!"
"What more can I ask, Sister?" Ytyrra tilted her head forward a bit and smiled at the woman beside her. It was an old, familiar gesture, and brought with it the comfort of familiar things. "Perhaps you acted without wisdom, and perhaps you followed your blood when your head knew better. These are small things. We are not like other races. We are not a Kingdom, and we do not have an army. We are family, Amiendyn. Understand? What we have is each other."
Another sniffle, and then the younger Sister leaned over and rested her head against the Eldest's shoulder. Ytyrra's response to this was simple. She released Amiendyn's hand, and looped that arm instead about her shoulders.
"It must have been horrible," the younger of the two murmured. "I was so cruel to him. And then... what Lauriel did. He must have hated us in the end."
"Shhh." The Eldest Sister brushed the other's tears away with her fingertips, resting her own cheek against the head on her shoulder. "Perhaps. But, from what I have seen, nothing ever really ends. Wherever he has gone, I am certain that he has understood and forgiven. After all, who could stay angry at you, Beautiful Child?"
Amiendyn began to cry in earnest.
It was going to be at least another day, Ytyrra decided, as she comforted her heartsick sister in the snow. The Dryads would have to remain in this cold, gods forsaken territory for at least one more day. She was not thrilled. Still, however, she was pleased that this conversation had come to pass so soon. This one could be so stubborn; always had been. How long might it have been before the hurt had overwhelmed her? How terribly would it have damaged her? She did not want to dwell on it.
After a while, the Eldest Sister nudged the Younger as her tears finally began to subside. "Myrie told me today that Treyp is already back on her feet. This was not the plan, originally, but what say you that we make a trip down into this city to visit her? I know that you have been anxious to see her well with your own eyes."
That birthed the smile that Ytyrra had hoped it would. Though Treyp had had two True Sisters, one older and one younger, this one had been roughly the same age as her. How many hours had they spent playing together about the forests? How many times had hotheaded Amiendyn stuck up for Treyp when Huiyt had bullied her as older sisters do? For fear of discovery, both by the people of Keeper's Gateway and whatever it was that lurked within the Keep itself, she had been allowed to visit her childhood friend only once, in the dead of night and accompanied by Myrie, when it had seemed that she was on her deathbed. The younger Sister had not expected to see Treyp again this trip, though they had all been relieved to hear of her apparent recovery and growing strength. This was an unexpected boon, crossing yet again the lines that Ytyrra had drawn when they had come to this place, but, in that moment, for that smile, it was entirely worthwhile.
Ytyrra stood upon a rocky outcropping, a hundred feet above the first wall of Keeper's Gateway. The sky had just begun to lighten toward morning. Her keen eyes were able to take in much of the city in that limited light. It was almost beautiful, as far as fortresses and cities went. Why, then, did it fill her with such unease? Like a snake in the water, it seemed as though there were something toxic just beneath the surface. She would be glad to be away from this tainted land, and happier still if she could convince her son to leave with her. Somehow, though, she doubted that that would happen. Ytyrra smiled, remembering what her dearest sister, Myrie, had told her when she had expressed the same sentiment earlier.
"He is stubborn," she had said, a smile of her own on her lips. "A bit too much like his mother."
Whatever it was that so bothered her about this ancient fortress would have to wait, she decided. Some mysteries needed time to be solved, and that, even for one as old as her, was a precious commodity. She had come to this strange, distasteful land for two reasons. First, she wanted to see her son. It was selfish, perhaps, but true. Secondly, it was her duty to deliver to him a kind of message. Given the tragedy that had unfolded between her sister Lauriel and the man they had taken from the city for questioning, she could ill afford to waste any more time than she already had. Her sisters, her charges, were hurting and afraid. To protect them, she had to move them away from this place with all due haste, and so it behooved her to proceed where she would have preferred to wait and watch a bit longer. Myrie had advised her to go into the city, find Geran's room, break in and speak with him whether he wished it or not. Ytyrra, fortunately, knew her son better than that. As she would be disgruntled, on some level, should he suddenly step out from behind a tree in her home and broach a subject of import half a breath later, so too would he not appreciate her sudden appearance. She would approach him through semi-official channels. Tonight, she would gain the lay of the land, and perhaps, if she were lucky, approach either Treyp or Eyrenya, asking one or both of those younger sisters to ease the surprise of her visit for her son. It would be better if he expected her.
Family qualified as semi-official, did it not?
Unfolding her legs, Ytyrra stood upright. Her cloak and her long, dark, red-streaked hair whipped about in the biting, cold air. It did not bother her. She could not hear Grandfather's voice in the way that the Wind Nymphs could, but she was comfortable in his company. Closing her eyes, she took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with that cool, bitter air, and found it invigorating.
It was then that a sound came unbidden to her preternaturally sharp ears. Twisting sharply about, and dropping low to better maintain her footing on the small bit of rock she stood upon, she spotted one of her Sisters making a fast approach. It was Amiendyn, stubborn and impulsive, who followed the treacherous path by which the Eldest Sister had arrived at her perch. A series of carefully calculated leaps, handholds and swings carried the younger woman forward. Where Ytyrra's own movements had been perfect, economic, and as graceful as high poetry, Amiendyn's motion was nothing less than the finest of art in motion. The former allowed herself a smile full of pride, even when the latter's foot slipped on the final landing, and she had to be caught.
"Well done, Sister!" Ytyrra cried over the wind in their native tongue, congratulating Amiendyn even as she hauled her up and onto the suddenly crowded rocky outcropping.
"It was a small feat," the out-of-breath new arrival called back.
"A small feat that, perhaps, three of the Sisters who accompanied me to this place could duplicate." The older woman squeezed the younger's shoulders with affection. "Modesty is an admirable trait, but do not attempt to use it to refuse credit when it is due."
"Well.. I slipped."
"And I was here to catch you. That is my sacred duty." Ytyrra took her younger Sister by the chin and forced her to raise her head so that she was looking her in the eye. "What is wrong, Little Sister? You may speak freely, for we are almost certainly alone in this place."
It would have taken a blind eye to miss dark circles beneath Amiendyn's eyes, the puffy redness that accompanied them, or the new tears that threatened to fall. She had seen little sleep these past few nights. The Eldest Sister knew what had caused this. It was not a difficult guess to make. She had also known, however, that her willful and quick-tempered younger Sister was not one to press on these matters. Doing so would have done little, save cause her to become even more standoffish on the subject. Amiendyn would open herself up when she was ready, Ytyrra had known. That was why she was here.
"I... apologize, Sister." Came the sad, strangely broken voiced reply. It was a strange sound to emit from this one's mouth. "I have been thinking... too much. About what happened. About Lauriel. About the man, Thanik. What happened. I..."
"You grieve, yes?"
"Yes."
"Sit with me a moment, Amiendyn." The Eldest Sister turned and lowered herself, smoothly folding her legs beneath herself. She again took in the Keep, again shook off her concern over what dangers may lurk within it. After a moment, the younger Sister was sitting beside her.
Ytyrra took her hand. "Tell me about him."
"I told you every detail I learned from him on a nightly basis. What else... "
"No, Amiendyn. Tell me about him. Was he kind to you?"
"What? What does... ?"
"When you were Amandine. Did he treat you well?"
"I... suppose so." ]
"He never hurt you? Nor forced himself upon you?"
"He couldn't have. I'd..."
"I know, Sister. I know. But he never tried?"
"No."
"He gave you gifts, yes?"
"...a flower, once. Nothing valuable."
"Nothing expensive, you mean." Ytyrra corrected her gently.
"Yes." Sniffling loudly, Amiendyn wiped at her leaking eyes. Leaking, too, was a bit of her old temper, burning away the timidity that had shown itself minutes before. "What is the point of these questions, Sister?"
"I am sure that he also complimented you often, was always happy to see you, and probably never asked twice in a row when you had already said no." Ytyrra sighed and gave the younger Sister's hand a sympathetic squeeze. "You, being who you are, would not have so warmed to him if he had."
Silence, then, for what could Amiendyn say to that? She knew, as well as did the Eldest Sister, that she had not been in love. There was no denying the truth, however, in that she had come to harbor some kind of feeling for the man she had been asked to spy on. It had been a task that she had been eager to take. Today, she was not certain that she would ever agree to such a thing again. It had left her heartsick. Did that make her at traitor to her sisters? She asked this question, and followed it with another.
"And what of the things I did with him? Things that were well above the call of duty."
"Pah." Ytyrra flicked her wrist. It was a dismissive gesture, as if she were ridding herself of a crawling pest. "You are a Dryad, Amiendyn. Our blood runs hot, in many ways, and you liked him. He was a good enough man, from what little I know of him. It was his purpose, not his character, which made him our enemy. Whatever else may have passed between you privately, you never told him anything that could have brought harm to our Sisters. Did you?"
"Of course not!"
"What more can I ask, Sister?" Ytyrra tilted her head forward a bit and smiled at the woman beside her. It was an old, familiar gesture, and brought with it the comfort of familiar things. "Perhaps you acted without wisdom, and perhaps you followed your blood when your head knew better. These are small things. We are not like other races. We are not a Kingdom, and we do not have an army. We are family, Amiendyn. Understand? What we have is each other."
Another sniffle, and then the younger Sister leaned over and rested her head against the Eldest's shoulder. Ytyrra's response to this was simple. She released Amiendyn's hand, and looped that arm instead about her shoulders.
"It must have been horrible," the younger of the two murmured. "I was so cruel to him. And then... what Lauriel did. He must have hated us in the end."
"Shhh." The Eldest Sister brushed the other's tears away with her fingertips, resting her own cheek against the head on her shoulder. "Perhaps. But, from what I have seen, nothing ever really ends. Wherever he has gone, I am certain that he has understood and forgiven. After all, who could stay angry at you, Beautiful Child?"
Amiendyn began to cry in earnest.
It was going to be at least another day, Ytyrra decided, as she comforted her heartsick sister in the snow. The Dryads would have to remain in this cold, gods forsaken territory for at least one more day. She was not thrilled. Still, however, she was pleased that this conversation had come to pass so soon. This one could be so stubborn; always had been. How long might it have been before the hurt had overwhelmed her? How terribly would it have damaged her? She did not want to dwell on it.
After a while, the Eldest Sister nudged the Younger as her tears finally began to subside. "Myrie told me today that Treyp is already back on her feet. This was not the plan, originally, but what say you that we make a trip down into this city to visit her? I know that you have been anxious to see her well with your own eyes."
That birthed the smile that Ytyrra had hoped it would. Though Treyp had had two True Sisters, one older and one younger, this one had been roughly the same age as her. How many hours had they spent playing together about the forests? How many times had hotheaded Amiendyn stuck up for Treyp when Huiyt had bullied her as older sisters do? For fear of discovery, both by the people of Keeper's Gateway and whatever it was that lurked within the Keep itself, she had been allowed to visit her childhood friend only once, in the dead of night and accompanied by Myrie, when it had seemed that she was on her deathbed. The younger Sister had not expected to see Treyp again this trip, though they had all been relieved to hear of her apparent recovery and growing strength. This was an unexpected boon, crossing yet again the lines that Ytyrra had drawn when they had come to this place, but, in that moment, for that smile, it was entirely worthwhile.