"What do you know of hardships? Savencrone is a wealthy place. Almost as much as my home." The Captain asked.
The two were sitting across from one another in the forest at night. The crickets chirping with the pleasant noises of wildlife soothing the environment. Wrafe leaned back against the saddle of his horse with an amused smirk on his face. He understood his overall appearance would show anyone that his background was nothing but wanting for nothing and being fed as much as he wished with clothes to fill an entire wardrobe. But, nonetheless, that wasn't to be the case.
"Indeed it is. But, it's also a place where everyone wants nothing but power with the Empire." He said.
"Like you have?" Davina asked, pointing out the fact with a smug smile of her own.
He chuckled.
"Yes. And, it was the most cruel goal to achieve with everyone being the competition…" He said, looking down at the bonfire between them.
His smile slightly died down.
"It's no easy task. Even when it's your own family." He said, with a less amused tone.
As much as he wasn't one to delve into personal history, he had done so for this conversation.
Davina's smile slightly disappeared, too. She hadn't expected to hear that.
"Funnily enough, it made me a lot stronger because of it." Wrafe added, glancing back up at the Valerian.
She nodded a little.
"I understand." She said, sympathetically.
"It made me stronger, too." She was to open her saddle bag.
Out, she pulled out a couple of bottles of mead and beer. Wrafe raised a brow. She tossed him one, which he caught.
"I had to ensure the boys stuck with us. Clear headed and all." She explained.
They both opened the drinks, with Wrafe nodding a little.
"To being stronger, then?" Davina asked, raising her beer up in a toast.
A corner of Wrafe's lips raised a bit before he raised the mead up.
"To being stronger." He toasted.
They both toasted and then took a good swig.
As her blood mixed with water, as her heartbeat was grasped still by death's claws, as her very soul was beginning to fade, her eyes closed. She was to pass. No doubt whatever faith would take her. Although, Valhalla wouldn't be receiving the Valerian warrior on the very night. Nor would any Gods or Goddesses. Her heartbeat was the only thing she felt in her passing moment as the only thing her mind processed was that faint memory of the last person she saw. It was not long before her beating heart began to fade. Then, there was nothing but silence in her mind and heart. Was that death in all its glory? Simple silence? She was about to learn it was never so easy or peaceful.
"Such courage in your heart. Such bravery. O' fading soul, do you truly believe this is to be the end of such a mighty Valkyrie? Your wings may be cut, but this is not your time to fall." It was a woman's voice.
A smooth, yet not very light voice. It spoke plainly, sharing the same way of speaking as her. Davina felt the emotion of disturbance in her peace. The confusion. She wanted to open her eyes and see what this was. Who it was. Then, she opened them…
There was a massive wave of white that covered her vision. Then, just little dots that quickly blurred passed her. Snow, from the blizzard. It was but a ways away that she saw her. The woman dressed in a long white dress that draped far back. She had this deeply caramel complected skin that was beyond perfect beauty for a being. These auburn orbs for eyes that stared into Davina. She was quite tall, too. There, the Valerian felt as if her breaths were easy to catch and to simply breathe out. She didn't feel cold. Nor did she feel warm. She simply felt nothing.
"I've already fallen." She answered the stranger of a spirit.
"Is this what I am to live through? Being a disgraced phantom?" Davina asked, somberly.
The woman with truly long platinum colored hair with odd light blue streaks had stepped forward towards her.
"No. Your kind who pass away on this mountain are never to die without finding their peace." She said, her voice being the only sound she was to hear.
Davina's brows furrowed as her feeling of helplessness and confusion was replaced with suspicion.
"Who… Are you?" She asked, almost reluctant to do so.
The ethereal woman had worn a rather content, calm look. Her very aura could calm any battle. Soothe any tantrum from a child. Easily lull someone as they passed.
"I was once known as Cira Khan. I… I am the one who wishes to give you your second chance. One that I was never graced to have had." The maiden in white answered.
Davina was left in absolute shock. The woman of the mountain, Cira Khan, was someone who truly lived.
"I… Understand. But, why? Why give me a second chance? You clearly are the reason the Empire can't survive through this mountain. Am I to be…" The thought of the undead she fought came to fruition.
"No! I would rather cease to exist." She exclaimed.
Cira Khan soon released a deep sigh, her head lowering a bit as her hair seemingly flowed through the air as if she was under water.
"Those poor souls met their end by being swallowed by their grief. Failing to seek redemption. This mountain… That tomb, is it wrong to have wanted to give them one last thing? Is it wrong to tell them to guard their honor and their resting place from disturbances? Even in death, there is no peace for men who have met me through the deceit of those they called friend." She spoke so passionately.
It felt so empathetic of her to talk of the souls here the way she did. Yet, even with all of that, Davina understood.
"Redemption. What have I to redeem myself for?" She asked the spirit.
"I know you do not seek redemption, Davina of Valeria. You seek something far more crude, yet well deserved." The seemingly dreamy spirit said.
She came closer and slowly walking around her as the blues and greens and whites swirled in the sky so slowly with the stars.
"I do not allow spirits to come forth into the world again with a lust for vengeance in their heart." The tall spirit stated, turning away from the warrior and facing off into the sky.
Her auburn orbs closed as she embraced the cold seemingly.
"I only hope that you seek justice for yourself. And, the men to whom lost their lives because of the betrayal. Surely they do not deserve to live as the beasts they were slain by?"
Davina understood perfectly. Especially in one regard: There would be justice. But, there was no simply brushing it off as said and done with such a noble label. The fallen warrior never put herself to be a person of high morality. Revenge is what she deserved. Even the spirit of the mountain knew that. Though, what she didn't seem to know was what kind of person that the Valerian was.
"I want to seek this justice you offer. For me and my men." Davina said.
There wasn't a debate or regretful little voice in the back of the raven-haired woman's head. She wanted to go back, to find him… And make him pay for what he did. Cira Khan turned, opening her eyes and offering the most warm smile on the coldest night as she had heard this.
"Excellent." She said, approaching the shorter person soon after.
"Although I won't say this again… Do not let Revenge flood your heart. Allow the Gods to guide you through this quest, your final one, in hopes to have everlasting peace with them."
She warned, approaching her with her hand out, her slender fingers uncurling to show what was held in the palm of her hand. A black spiky amulet with an emerald gem in the center. As if a black sun was the design. Davina looked at it before returning her gaze up to the ethereal being.
"I won't." She said, quite sternly.
She hesitantly took the amulet.
"So long as you wear this, I will always be with you as a listener to your troubles. This will also keep your body frozen in time. Your heart will never meet its last beat, nor will your lungs take their last breath. But, be weary of one thing…" She paused, releasing the piece and laying her cold hand upon the warrior's shoulder with a very worried look.
It was clear she couldn't stress these rules enough.
"Do not take it off once you leave. Or… Your fatal wounds will return. You will perish, being too far away for my aid."
What a gullible phantom, Davina thought to herself as she held the amulet tightly.
"I won't." She repeated, nodding her head in understanding.
She would regret betraying the kind ghost of the past's wishes, but this was all she had for herself now. She had little choices in life, even little more in death. The least she could do is tempt fate by choosing her own terms. And, suffering and dying on her own as well. Cira Khan nodded her head once, soon to step back with no sounds of footsteps. She simply held her hand out in a simple gesture.
"Go, now, Valerian. Seek out your justice. Rise, my Revenant." Is the final thing the spirit said.
Then, her overall figure was slowly being swarmed by the blizzard that began to invade their presences. Her vision began to be dotted and colored with white. Then, even if you were to close your eyes, you would see nothing but a fade from white to black. Her eyes suddenly opened. A shudder of life ran through the body as the water rippled. Underneath it, these eyes drained of their previous life stared up at the darkness. The consuming, cruel dark. This wasn't the end after all.
Her body lunged forward, emerging from the dark pit of water. Her loud coughing disturbed the silence. The water sloshing around within itself and being swirled around by her limbs rising from the water. She had arisen from her deathly slumber. She did not come back as the Captain of a Battalion, nor the Thane of Winter's Ark. Especially not a hero of the Empire. But, she came back as someone who had everything taken from her. And, in times of great desperation when fate grants you a justified second chance, there was nothing more dangerous than someone who was determined to do anything to find justice for oneself. It was within the tomb where the brawl with the undead that a few thuds were heard by the few spirits that lurked, as well as the dead that walked. In the corner, where the warrior fell, she would emerge from the pit of her death. With an audible grunt with difficulty climbing, her gloved hand slapped down onto the stone of the ground, clutching to any crevice she could obtain. Which, her arm bent as the Valerian pulled herself up. She planted her other hand onto the stones, water soaking where she applied her weight. Her dark and far above damp hair hung in her face as she had rolled to her side, nudging herself onto the floor of the tomb. Her hair just naturally fell out of her face. Mostly. A few strands of black streamed across her forehead and cheeks. Her lips paled from the cold embrace of her passing had released a breath. An unneeded one. Her color, her face, it was so very pale. Her eyes, they lost their beautiful shade of green. Now, they were the color of her tool of vengeance. A deep, gleaming silver set of eyes staring up at the hole in the center up top. The light shining down onto her. Her pupils had dilated, constricting due to the light. There was only one thing running through her mind now. The man from Savencrone she once called her partner.
She sat up, her gray eyes scrolling down to her cuirass. She could feel the discomfort it brought. She peeled the wet gloves from her hands, tossing them aside as the still air embraced her chill. She had then begun to undo the straps and buckles to her chest plate. Once doing so, she tossed it aside. She stood up. The dark tomb, it no longer seemed as such. The way the room was, everything seemed heightened. As if she could see every little detail she couldn't before even when the room was lit up with fire. It wasn't as if it was day but, it was much more manageable.
"The book." Davina muttered, her brows furrowing as the thought came back to her mind. She turned around, running a hand through her hair to get it back as she had eyed around the place. No book. That Nobleman did in fact take it. Damn him, she thought. The very thought angered her. Then, she realized one benefactor: time. She didn't know how much she had lost! Therefore, the raven-haired woman quickly gathered some things. She had, as respectfully as possible, ripped the cloak from one of her men to strap it to her shoulders. She grabbed a sword, sheathing it and having it pinned to her left hip. Once she stood up straight, she finally noticed a little hit delivered to her chest. She looked down and clutched the item. The amulet of Cira Khan, the kind spirit who deemed it fit for her to live again. Never before has she met such justice done to herself. Even if it wasn't the most desired, she thought to herself of being in her debt endlessly. That aside, Davina quickly began to head out of the tomb to begin her new journey directly into the cold and proceeding right out of the mountains. She had hoped to catch that traitorous wretch before he got off the mountain. Or, was it too hopeful of her lust for his blood to pray that he was but a little ways away?
She had a quick jog through the corridor and immediately found herself to be welcomed by the brightness of the snow of the mountain. It was night. The moon was just barely lowering over the horizon.
"Dammit." She seethed.
He had a good head start, it seemed. More than half a day, perhaps. It was already more frustrating than when her first journey began. All due to how personal it was, of course. She hadn't noticed at first, blinded by her feelings but, the cold, it didn't harm her. She didn't feel the need to shiver or shudder in her body's attempt to be warm. She simply processed the blizzard as if it wasn't there. Though, it most definitely would cause effects to any normal individual. With that, she walked through the snow. Her boots crunching in the snow and ice as her eyes squinted through all the little snowflakes hitting her eyelashes and overall face. Her vision, it was mostly clouded with white. Every now and again she saw nature far down below. The forests and such. Then, she slipped, falling right on her backside as she immediately slid forward and dropped into a patch of hard snow. She gave a rather displeased noise as some snow fell onto her afterwards, shrugging off most of it as she felt the irritant of wetness going down the back of her neck. If only she had Beatrix, her steed, she wouldn't have such a hard time escaping this fortress of frozen hell. She would not die. But, it was a fact that she could be made miserable. Though, she wouldn't succumb to such feelings right now. She was determined to get off this mountain.
Then, a haunting scene befell her. The snow suddenly stopped. The area around her stilled. So much so it almost seemed as if time had stopped. But, it clearly didn't from how she was able to stand up freely. Then, an all too familiar silhouette emerged from afar. A beast the size no man could reach. The ice-wolf. The one with some scars and an elder coat about its fur. Its vibrant blue eyes staring at her as it approached. She took a deep breath within her lungs. Her eyes opened but rested halfway. Was it arrogance to feel no fear or much of anything for the animal? No, it was her immediate memory of the creature sparing her life. Which, she wouldn't soon forget.
"I cannot allow you to hinder my journey." She said to the rather calm beast.
But, it wasn't why it was here. It made it obvious once it sat down, lowering its head a little more to her level. Her eyes narrowed. Her head turned a bit as her gaze kept upon the beast. Its personality proved to be so much more than an absent-minded bloodthirsty wolf. She slowly stepped forward, staring into its eyes as she cautiously approached with much uncertainty. She wasn't sure what such a spirit wanted with her. She would sooner expect an enemy due to what she did. Then, she was to ask a rather outlandish question she thought to be a madman's thought.
"Can you help me?"
Its stare soon broke once it closed its eyes, slowly kneeling its head down. Not to bow, to lay and present its opportunity for help. Davina scoffed. She never would've guessed. The Valerian soon brought herself to unsurely mount the beast. Her boots no longer touched the ground. Soon, she gripped on tightly to a part of its fur, readying herself for what's to come.
It was within the mountains a white blur was leaping throughout the air. Eventually planting its talons and paws into the snow and ground as it ran at such a speeded pace that it was unnatural. The woman on the back of the Jokul-Beast was truly holding on best as she could. With effort, her fingers clutched onto the thick strands of fur with her body feeling warm with anxiousness with every leap it took. It made no noise. Neither did the former-soldier. Then, the wolf was to stop. Right at the edge of a cliff over a ravine as to where its head turned to eye her. Which, Davina's furrowed brows loosened as her lifeless eyes trailed from the wolf's gaze to eye the land. The green of it, the much warmer and far more welcoming part of the Empire had been in clear sight. She only needed but a moment to figure it out, then raising her arm up to point directly ahead towards the empty patch of land in the seemingly endless forest.
"There." She stated.
The wolf simply turned its head around and soon continued its running start from before. Going at such a speed that no man would ever hope to achieve on a mere horse. It was a familiar place that she had been to prior to the Spirit's Mountain. The settlement, Brytwood. Which was nowhere in sight. But, she knew all too well why. And she was no fool as to who she had to speak to just to find her real steed, Beatrix, that she left within the place. Hopefully the selfish snake that practically ended her life hadn't stolen it, too. She still had to be sure.
Then, the wolf came to its final stop in assisting her. Davina was then to throw a leg over the wolf to meet her other, sliding off its back to her boots thudding and the armor on her clanking a bit. Her hood to the cloak had fallen to drape over her head. She straightened, letting the cream colored cloak tattered and dirtied at the ends go over her shoulders. They did so, covering most of her body as she began to walk up to the large patch in the woods. She pulled her hood back, a few strands of her shortened and disheveled hair falling across the sides of her face. She eyed the area down and up. However, she then turned around, eyeing the wolf.
"Thank you." She said.
It simply stared. She knew it was understanding her. She turned away, hearing it walk off as she stared straight ahead. She could feel something. The life within the illusion. The power behind it. She could sense it within a way only a starving person would smell food. She slowly raised a hand up, sticking her index and middle fingers out. Nothing. She had such hearing where she could hear the faded voices from behind. It was astonishing, the abilities she had. She lowered her hand. She then put a foot forward and began walking straight ahead. As she did, she knew that a witch's spell wasn't going to keep her away from her horse. Her only means of inconspicuousness for travel. It was like blinking. One moment, there was nothing. Then, there was everything. First, there was no settlement. Now, there's a town. Her silver orbs for eyes took in the somewhat familiar place, not bothering to be secretive or cautious with her presence whatsoever. She did save the place, after all. Her eyes landed on a particularly catching gaze. One of the very one who created this illusion. Ksenia the Witch. Who had a hand on her hip, eyeing the other woman down and up with skepticism. Or calm disbelief, whichever it was.
"The wealthy one said you were dead." She said, with a calmness in her voice.
This clearly didn't shock her.
"He was wrong." Davina replied, with obvious maliciousness.
She smiled a little with an amused chuckle.
"No. He wasn't."
It took a matter of moments for the scene to change for her. Just with a few quick words, she was brought to Ksenia's home. One that was sizable enough. Made of nothing but roots and perfectly positioned ones to make out a home. The interior isn't much different, including how the ceiling had wide leaves cupped together with a bright orange light hiding and bleeding its way through.
"Normally my kind kills off your sort. Servants of nature and what not." Ksenia said, walking to a table with a great many vials and flowers.
"And why haven't you?" The other asked in retort.
She stood in front of the door that closed behind her on its own.
"Because I don't serve anyone. Not anymore." The witch answered.
Davina had a mutual agreement with her in that regard. She would no longer serve anyone. No Empire, no General.
"What do you want?" The Valerian asked bluntly.
Ksenia sat onto a seat made of roots at a table. Her head tilted at the question.
"You want your horse, I assume. It's the only thing you left here. What I want, is to know how you came back."
"Why's that?" The dead Knight asked, crossing her arms.
She was beginning to grow intolerant of this conversation already.
"Because your kind hasn't been seen in hundreds of years. And… Because your kind usually is an omen of death for a lot of people." The witch explained.
She had an aggressive edge laced upon her voice. So she did care, Davina thought. Which was convenient for the town. She was unaware of any omens regarding what she was now.
"I don't wish to bring the world into a gross miasma of decay. I'm just one of 'my kind'." Davina stated.
"Just one has done a lot before." She quickly replied.
"Your kind are nothing but spirits of darkness and wrath. Which is why I need to know if I am to kill you or not." The witch was so arrogant to say this aloud.
Or, she was rightfully confident.
"Tell me, was it a bowl of infant bones or tea leaves that read this to you? I'm not a warlord or tyrant in the making. I am just getting what I rightfully deserve." She bickered calmly with the witch.
She was growing to immensely dislike Ksenia. She seemed so sure of her position in this world. She even saw her smirk at the remark of the bones and leaves.
"Wrath upon a man who broke your little cold heart?" Ksenia asked, crudely.
Oh, how this truly flared her anger. It wasn't even amusing or really witty banter. She found her to be infuriating and foolish.
"You must know the feeling quite often if you can spot it that easily." She retorted.
She quite casually dismissed it with a scoff and flick of her wrist.
"Oh, please."
"He betrayed our partnership, you ignorant witch. He left me to die, fully capable of preventing… This." Davina aggressively said.
"Just him?" Ksenia asked, barely flinching with any empathy or pity for much of anything regarding the other woman.
It was clear she didn't feel much for very many things or people but herself.
"Yes. Not you, not your measly town. Not the entire world. Once I kill this bastard of Savencrone, I'll simply…-" She paused.
She didn't know. The end, it was simply something she didn't think of right now.
"Where is my horse?" She changed the subject back to Beatrix.
"Go to the boy running the tavern. He has your beastly friend." Ksenia answered, having a sudden change of care for stopping Davina.
To whom, had simply raised a brow at the other before turning away to leave.
"Oh, Davina." The witch said her name for the first time, standing up.
The Valerian didn't bother looking.
"Don't come back ." She said.
The dead Knight almost laughed. Almost.
"And miss your sparkling personality that'd drive me to behead you? As you wish." She bitterly replied as she walked out.
Witches were indeed so cryptic. Pointless, at times. She sighed and simply walked through the town. She didn't quite understand what the witch of Brytwood was so concerned for. Well, for the moment she did care. Nonetheless, she dismissed it as a simple interference that was over and done with. She went and walked up to the same tavern as before, one without a real name or much profit to its liquor. However, when she stepped through that door, there were glances at her. A few brows raised. Everyone went about their business.
Unrecognizable apparently. Being so disheveled, dressed only slightly different. Some paleness, a severely unwanted haircut. She walked up to the bar counter, laying her gloved hands upon it. Her silver eyes raised to scroll to the young man who was coming right up to her. He stood on the other side of the table, cleaning a tankard. His face contorted to confusion.
"Oh… Ma'am, you're…-" He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"I'm here for my horse. Where is she?" She asked.
"Your horse?" The dense youth asked.
"Beatrix. A black beast with white spots on her le-" She was cut off.
"You did make it after all! I knew it!" The boy suddenly shouted.
"Keep it down." She hissed.
"Oh, but how can I? You've returned, our hero!" He was clearly excited.
She sighed again.
"Listen to me, boy. I am no hero today. I am a desperate woman in need of her horse." She said, rushing him to understand such a simple concept.
He was seemingly disappointed by her words. Pettily hurt by them. He slowly nodded.
"R-Right… of course." Hadrian, the boy, said.
She stared at him with a flicker of remorse. The child was clearly just excited. But… she had no time. And, the further she got from here, the closer to Wrafe she could get. Unfortunately for him, she knew exactly where he was going. Hadrian soon parted through the bar, gesturing for her to follow. She did. Being led through a backdoor where she had been brought to the stables in the back. There were plenty of horse's. But, one standing out from the white or beige ones. The black steed, Beatrix. Davina smiled a bit and walked up to the gate, pulling it open as she had approached the beast.
"There you are. Missed me any?" She asked the reluctant steed.
Beatrix's head slightly pulled back from the revenant.
"Easy now. Easy… I'm still me." She said, lightly pulling on the reins and patting the horse's cheek.
"We have one more journey. Just one more. Then, you're going to run free, because you can. You're going to live." She eased the beast who calmed upon the assurance.
Of course, this was just a horse but, she wished for it to be free amongst the wilds once she was done. A small sentiment to her faithful beast.
The saddle was on the side of the gate railing. It was soon plucked up and put over the horse, strapped down onto it with the dark haired woman climbing up onto it. She gripped the reins firmly, her silver eyes staring ahead with much ambition. Dark ambition. A rightful want.
"Let's go. Hyah!" She nudged her heels into Beatrix's stomach, cracking the reins a bit as she did. The horse began to gallop out of the stable and then ran out. So began her next journey, finding herself chasing a man she would no doubt get justice for herself for. She would not find herself going to the hold, her home. No, she would be venturing where she knew he'd be going next. The great city of the Empire. Mor Vendrel.