Taking a stroll(open)

[Elestryll Du'laine]

Afternoon of Brightening 7, Cycle 2 of Immanis
Season of Spring, Era II
Era XI Post Fractum

Elestryll walked slowly, in no real hurry to be anywhere in particular. His left hand held the black cloak tightly around his body, barring out some of the cool spring breeze. He had never liked the cold, but, it seemed even more biting now that she was no longer beside him.

Why? He felt the tears once again welling up in his eyes. Quickly running the back of his gloved hand across his eyes, he wiped the tears away before they could overflow. Had she not led a worthy life? Was she not a faithful, loving wife? A pious soul? Yes! She was! So, why had she been taken? A new emotion began to surface inside Elestryll, one he had not felt in quite a long time. One he had not felt since first meeting her. But, now it had returned. Anger. At this moment Elestryll was angry. Angry at the gods, at his fellow Esh'lahier, and indeed all the mortal races. And, angry at himself.

Pulling the cloak tighter, he continued on.

[Laroa Linalantava]

It had been a while since the pale lady had taken a walk through her home city, just for fun. Since the Queen, her mother, had named her her successor, since she had returned to claim her birthright such things had become harder … it had become harder to find free time, to escape, to run away when something bothered her. She valued those hours when nobody needed her, those few brightenings when she had the opportunity to leave even the marble city behind and contact those that knew of her past existence to talk about old times. Things had been different only a short time ago. She had been a mage in a city that was the exact opposite of her home, had lived among vysstichi, followed Aeternia, but she had been betrayed and taken the only path that was left to her – to return to the light. There was nobody who understood what was on her mind here. None of them were allowed to know.

Her father, the king, had given her four bodyguards to protect her when she was walking through the city or travelling in the surrounding countryside. A princess’ life was in danger, there were people that would rather see her head, besides it was inappropriate for somebody like her to walk alone. Two of those guards were with her now, walking behind her to give her at least the impression that she was alone, but watching her closely nevertheless. One was a middle aged swordsman, handsome and dignified, with a white uniform and a longsword at his belt, and the other one was a thaumaturgist, a young woman who was knowledgeable in the ways of the gods that the Esh’lahier followed – most Esh’lahier at least. They were loyal to her – even though they disapproved of some of the things she did.

The first rays of the sun, still not strong enough to warm the world, caressed her pale face. She had pulled a thick black cloak over her white dress to fend off the cold. Esh’lahier were supposed to tolerate the climate her well, but she had spend much of her life in the warm underground cities of the vysstichi, and thus wasn’t used to it yet. Unlike her guards the lady was completely unarmed, save for a silver dagger that was hidden under her clothes and what little she knew in the ways of magic. A faint smile lingered on her face as she made her way through the city. Ethgan’tor was beautiful, unlike anything that existed in the Empire. She enjoyed walking through its streets, watching the people, knowing that she would provide them with a means to make their home greater, to make everything better.

„Your Highness …“ came the thaumaturgist’s soft voice suddenly, and the future queen turned around. „There is a man coming towards us. I think something is bothering him. He seems angry and sad …“ The lady glanced at Elestryll for a moment, looked at him from out of big wine colored eyes, but did not move. She simply waited, to see if he would pass her by, if he would recognize her, realize that she was of royal blood – or take her for a simple woman that had decided to take a walk with her companions.

[Elestryll Du'laine]

The cauldron of emotional turmoil that was Elestryll Du'laine walked aimlessly, his eyes seeing everything but registering little.
Though his countenance was one of sadness, his eyes hinted at the anger in his heart, and so many of those who shared the street with him, who would, on any other day have greeted him, simply moved from his path and left him be. And that suited the distraught Esh'lahier just fine.

Perhaps a walk wasn't what I needed after all, he thought to himself as he paused to gaze momentarily into the clear blue sky above him. Sighing heavily, he once again turned his eyes to the street before him, and continued on.

Lost in his thoughts, he simply sidestepped the trio that stood watching him, intent on the path ahead. A few steps later, though, recognition flickered, and he quickly turned and fell to one knee, bowing his head in respect to Laroa.

"Forgive me, your Highness," he spoke, his voice clear and respectful. In my own self pity I failed to recognize our city's fair Princess. Please forgive me. Elestryll stared at the stone of the street, hoping, and at the same time, not caring, that he had not insulted the Princess.

[Laroa Linalantava]

The smile on the lady’s face was replaced by utter calm and composure as the stranger dropped to his knees. It was good to know that people, that simple citizens began to recognize her, that they began to respect her. When she had returned to Ethgan’tor a few months earlier, after a long absence, nobody had known who she was and that she was related to the royal family – even though she was told that she looked a bit like her late mother. She had made a tour through the city with the king, and people had only waved to her because she had been in his company. They had taken her for a friend, a servant or an outsider of some importance.

She cast a brief glance at her guards, and they stepped behind her, watching the man while she dealt with him. Narayil – the swordsman – put a hand on his blade, just in case the stranger would try and harm the woman he had vowed to protect with his life. The expression on his face was unreadable. It was obvious that he knew how to handle himself in a fight. The other guard just smiled softly. She could feel that he was no threat, that he was much too occupied with his own problems to think about taking advantage of the current situation. Not everybody was a potential murderer.

„There is no need to apologize …“ she told Elestryll in a musical voice - even though she appreciated the way he had dropped on his knee in front of her. A moonlight pale hand lingered on his shoulder for a while before she gestured for him to rise. „There would be one if you had recognized me and ignored me or insulted me … Tell me what is bothering you and if House Linalantava can help you in any way …“ Narayil glanced at her, surprised. She had not caught him as one that enjoyed talking to those below her. Maybe he had been wrong.

It would strengthen her position – at least in some circles – if it became known that she did not hide in her palace all day long, that she was actually willing to listen. Others would of course disapprove – but she could handle them.

[Elestryll Du'laine]

It was true that those months ago when she had toured the city at her father, the Kings, side, few realized who she was. Elestryll, however, had, though at the moment he couldn't recall how he had known. But, at present, he found himself before her, his future Queen. He had knelt before her out of pure reflex, not sure if that was the correct response to her rank.

He had noticed the guards hand rest on his sword, ready to draw it in an instant to protect his mistress. He noted, too, the female guards smile. Neither of these actions made any profound impact upon him. What had, however, was his future Queen's actions. Not the cold, aloof response he had expected from her, but, instead a seeming interest in his plight.

As he rose, the anger that had been present in his slate grey eyes only moments ago, faded away in, quite literally, a blink of the eye. He considered Laroa a moment before answering in the same clear, respectful voice he had greeted her with. Your Highness, I fear that not even your great house would be of much help to my troubled existence. I have recently suffered a great loss, and my soul still mourns." A momentary pause, and then, "For now, I only search for a distraction, an outlet for the emotions I have inside."

Elestryll's eyes never left Laroa as he spoke. Though his eyes no longer held any sign of emotion, it was obvious from his aspect that he was a man overcome by grief. A quite pitiful creature, in all actuality.

[Laroa Linalantava]

„Your wife?“ she asked softly, and her usually cold face was full of compassion. She knew what it was like to lose a loved one. She had lost mother, husband and daughter. Her little girl had been murdered by the man she had thought would provide her with a little comfort after her husband’s death. The nephew of the late Governor of Enamoria had been a madman, a traitor, a liar who had taken advantage of her only to cast her aside. „I lost my only child only a few months ago …“ Of course it was only a guess. Maybe his wife was still there. Maybe another one that was close to him had died. Even though she was a mystic, she would not use her art to find out what it was that troubled him so. „I’m sorry for your loss … I know how hard it can be …“

She had pity with this stranger who she had just met, this simple man, understood him even though he was quite different from those that she usually spent her time with, the master mages, the lords and ladies and to a lesser extend the necromancers she still held contact with, unknown even to her own family. „You are wrong, the House can help you, I can help you. What kind of distraction is it that you are looking for? I can help you forget for a while … sometimes doing something that is physically or mentally demanding helps forget the pain in your soul …“

He was so overcome by grief … Had she ever been like this when she had lost her family? She had spent a day and a night at her husband’s deathbed, but then she had moved on, to continue with her work. Before she had been betrayed and forced to escape from Vortex she had been the headmistress of a magic school, hidden in the caverns under the city. There had been people she had had to take care of, things that had to be done. Maybe he did not have anybody.

[Elestryll Du'laine]

Elestryll nodded as Laroa correctly surmised his loss. He saw the compassion, the understanding that could only come from one who had known great loss. Though he did not know of the losses she had suffered, save that of her mother the Queen, he felt his own grief subside a little as his heart went out to the noble woman. And, perhaps, the aura of sadness that surrounded him lessened some, as well. It was amazing what a moment of simple compassion could accomplish.

His voice a bit softer, he considered her offer. "Yes, perhaps you are right." His eyes fell upon Narayil and his sword. Perhaps something physically demanding is what I need. His eyes returned to Laroa as he continued, It seems you have helped me, after all, your Highness. I believe I shall seek out someone to train me in swordsmanship. Your guard, he seems to be quite confident in his abilities. Perhaps he would know of someone?"

It seemed to Elestryll that the mere presence of the pale lady softened the blow of losing his beloved wife. Only a few moments ago, he believed that he would never be able to move on, never know anything but anger and sadness. The Princess had, in her simple understanding, inspired him to better himself, to renew his life. And for this, he would be eternally grateful.

[Laroa Linalantava]

As Elestryll looked at Narayil, the swordsman looked back, cool brown eyes studying the stranger in front of him. He looked alright, was tall, not too thin, had no obvious deformities, did not appear to be clumsy, at least not at first sight. Maybe the younger man would make a decent fighter. Satisfied with what he had seen, the princess’ bodyguad pulled his gaze away again. Not a single word left his pale lips. It was not up to Elestryll to know what he had found out about his character, about how he would fare in a fight. Those findings were only meant for him and the woman he served.

„My guard?“ the lady asked, without turning to the swordsman and arched an eyebrow. „He knows a few, yes … but he is perfectly capable of training you himself. He has been chosen to guard me for a reason. He’s experienced …“ The swordsman nodded curtly, a sign that he had understood what it was that his mistress wanted him to do and that he approved. „He will train you, provide you with an opportunity to overcome your loss, to give your life a purpose, a direction again … for something as simple as the promise that you will come to your future queen when she needs you, that you won’t turn from her and that you spread word that she is not quite the arrogant woman she seems to be …“

It seemed that her motives were not entirely selfless after all. Elestryll would provide her with a means to show her people that she was different from her father and her mother, that she would be the one who would make Ethgan’tor great again and stop those petty conflicts between the noble houses. Her strange red-violet eyes looked into his, and a smile flickered across her face. She waved her hand, and her guard stepped forward as if he could read her mind.

„My name is Narayil,“ he introduced himself, expecting him to reveal his name as well. „And apparently the princess wishes me to train you. Do you have a sword? There may very well be more than a release for all your anger and sadness waiting for you if you show promise during the training … employment in the House if you wish it and an opportunity to learn more …“

[Elestryll Du'laine]

Elestryll's eyes widened slightly, giving away his surprise. He had thought that the guard, Narayil, would simply direct him to a suitable instructor, and that this chance meeting with the royal Princess would be over. But, not so. Instead he was offered direct training by the Princesses personal guard, as well as a possible position in the Royal House. In a mere matter of moments, his life seemed to begin down a new, perhaps better, path. And in return, he would be more than happy to promote the heir to the throne to the city she would one day rule. And, as for aiding the Queen whenever she would need him, that he would have done anyway.

Bowing in thankful respect to Laroa, his voice once again strong, he stated, Your Highness, I am more than honoured at your proposition, and happily comply. Forever will I be yours to command. You have given me purpose, and that is something I have not had in many cycles." He raised his eyes, eyes that once again shone with life.

[Laroa Linalantava]

The smile on the lady’s face widened as Elstryll spoke. It was like a light in utter darkness, seemed to be utterly honest. Only the look in her eyes was the same as ever, calm, cool and controlled. Laroa was not quite as incapable of showing her emotions, of caring as her mother – she had spent those crucial years when she had been younger among the vysstichi where Meephos’ taint was strong. Most people would be shocked, would even cast her out if they knew, but those years among the darkskinned elves had made her stronger. She knew how to love, how to hate and how to make a commoner feel as if she cared about him. She would never grow as hard and cold as the woman who had given birth to her.

She nodded to him as he bowed, a sign that she acknowledged the gesture, pleased that he had shown such good manners and was polite. A man who did not forget how to behave in the presence of one of royal blood, despite the fact that he had suffered such a tragic loss would make it far. It spoke of his inner strength, of his ability to adapt. He did not look quite as miserable as he had before, when he had crossed her path. „I’m glad that there are men like you,“ she answered. „Men who serve me readily …“ In her opinion this brief meeting, this brief interruption of her walk had already turned out to be benefical. For something as little as the offer of training, a job – things that were easy to give – and a few compassionate words she would gain a loyal servant – not just somebody who pretended to be loyal to her only to betray her as soon as he was offered an appropriate reward.

„Follow us,“ Narayil spoke again. „Your training will begin in the palace, not here where everybody can watch. And keep in mind that my Mistress rewards those that are loyal to her …“ He stepped aside at once, allowing Elestryll to walk between the othe guard and him.

[Elestryll Du'laine]

Yes, Elestryll would be a loyal servant, and he would serve her to the best of his abilities. But, just as Laroa's reasons hadn't all been selfless, neither was Elestrylls...

Oh, he would never harbor any ill intent towards his new patron. No, in the last few moments she had become his light, his purpose. He would learn all that Narayil could teach him, for the intensity of sword training would surely help distract him from his grief, if only momentarily. And he would use that training to whatever purpose his new mistress wished. But, there were also other plans forming his his mind, and he would pursue those with an equal passion. But, oh, how this chance meeting could benefit him!

Once again bowing his head, he introduced himself.

"I am Elestryll Du'laine, your Highness. Formerly of Port Constantine, though I spent most of my childhood here in Ethgan'tor.

And to Narayil, Yes, sir. I look forward to it.

[Laroa Linalantava]

„Port Constantine?“ The princess was honestly surprised. „I never knew that there were Esh’lahier in Port Constantine. There can’t be many of them …“ As he spoke of how he had spent his childhood in Ethgan’tor, how he was here now, she nodded. It was a fact that most Esh’lahier returned to the marble city, even if it was after a long time. Even those that had decided to make a life for themselves in the Empire came to visit sooner or later. Maybe the pale elves could not exist without seeing the marvels of their home at least once in their lives. She herself had been drawn back to Ethgan’tor after the recent tragedy. There was no other place like it.

She led Elestryll through the streets of the city, past houses and temples made of magnificent white marble that sparkled in the sunlight, past gardens that were beautiful, even in spring. People stopped and bowed to her while others largely seemed to ignore her, either because she was still a stranger to them or because they disapproved of her House and its politics, did not trust the woman who had only returned so very recently to become a capable leader yet. The guards that walked left and right of Elestryll paid close attention to what took place around them, to who approached them. They had vowed to protect the pale woman in front of them with their lives.

The royal palace was a miracle with walls made of snow white marbles that were laced with pink veins that gave the structure something friendly, hospitable. High towers were combined with balconies, with rows of columns. Gardens and courtyards were hidden among the white walls. The guards at the gate bowed to their princess and let her pass, without ever asking her who the stranger near her was. It was not up to them to question her. Somebody who was with her was not a danger, and that was all that mattered. One of them handed Elestryll a weapon, a simple long sword made of steel upon Laroa’s request so that he would have something he could use during his training.

The princess and her companions left the palace soon enough again, made their way into a small courtyard that was hidden between the walls. There was nothing of interest in it, apart from a small fountain in pink and white that displayed an elven woman that was pouring water from a pitcher into the pool below. The trees on the edges of the courtyard bore no leaves yet for the better part. It was still early. Summer was a while away. The elven lady took a seat on a small bench in front of the fountain. She would watch the two men practice for a while.

Narayil gave her a curt bow before he turned to Elestryll, „Are you ready to begin?“

[Elestryll Du'laine]

The slightest hint of a smile crept to Elestryll's lips. "No, not many, not many at all. And even fewer that are known about."

Elestryll followed the Princess and her guards silently, his mind remembering the last few months. Yes, he had spent time in Port Constantine, his father having moved his family there for reasons he had never revealed to his son. Then, he had met Jenna, and he knew that he was in love. She too had spent her childhood in Ethgan'tor, and she was homesick. Their relationship finally solidified in marriage, and as a gift, his father had turned the deed of the old family home in Ethgan'tor over to Elestryll. And so he and his new wife had returned to their home city. Tragically, on the trip, Jenna had become ill, and never recovered.

His thoughts were interupted as they reached the royal palace. It was a beautiful structure, and it occured to him that he had never been this close before. He bowed his head and accepted the sword given to him for his training and continued on into the courtyard.

Elestryll removed his cloak and layed it on a bench, then nodded to Narayil. "Yes, sir. I believe I am." Elestryll firmly gripped his sword and waited.

[Laroa Linalantava]

As Elestryll stated that he was ready, Narayil drew his own sword. Even in something as simple as removing a blade from its sheath his skill with his chosen weapon was showing. The elder Esh’lahier’s movements were fluid, he had drawn the sword in one swift motion and brought it into the right position without posing. There had been hardly any sound. Brown eyes regarded Elestryll as he stood there, waiting. The swordsman’s gaze rested on his face for a moment before it went down, to his feet and legs. A frown crossed the man’s pale face. „Not good …“ he remarked and looked into Elestryll’s eyes again. „You are standing wrong …“

It was very likely that this was the first time that Elestryll had ever heard that there was a right and a wrong way to stand, that one could make a mistake with something as simple as placing one’s feet on the ground. „A stable, well balanced stance is the most important thing for a fighter. Without it even the fanciest maneuvers, even the greatest knowledge of one’s enemy will be pointless as you will fall to the ground the moment your enemy hits you too hard. If you lose your balance because you were standing wrong, nobody will ever wait for you to get up again and give you a second chance, at least not in a real battle …“

The swordsman’s eyes were cold and hard, the tone of his voice completely serious. Some had laughed at him in the past when he had talked about standing, but it was the truth. He did not see a need to fool his students. „The first stance I will teach you is called the forward stance, and I consider it the most important one. Watch me and try to mimick me …“ With that he stepped forward with his right leg. There was a noticeable gap between his legs now. He bent his right knnee while keeping his left leg completely straight. There was a gap between his feet from side to side as well, and it was about as wide as his shoulders. Both of his feet were turned slightly to the side. „When you move forward, bend your front leg, when you retreat collapse your back leg …“

[Elestryll Du'laine]

Elestryll nodded at his instructors words. It made perfect sense to him that one should always be balanced. He watched as Narayil spread his legs into what he called the forward stance, and tried to emulate the warrior. He spread his legs to about shoulder width and bent his right leg. His left leg he kept arrow straight. Overall, Elestryll seemed very rigid. His eyes glanced at Narayil a few times, readjusting his footing to more closely match the mans.