Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Daughters, Chapter 1 - Eloise

The concept of homeland was a curious thing. The people of Ravenshade and Iron Fen spoke of their kingdoms with unwavering pride, as though it were choice, rather than circumstance that granted them their citizenship. As a warrior of Iron Fen, Eloise Glass was expected to exhibit a similar spirit of nationalism. And yet, there wasn't a person in all of Einalia who would identify her as anything other than an outsider.

Her eye color, her complexion, and the texture of her hair were unlike any other human on the isle. Meanwhile, her formative years had all been spent in and around Port Shorishal. She lived there and guarded the castle walls. Perhaps she had no homeland. The sylph Effrae had stated something similar, though going further to label her lost and fractured. The assessment was unwanted and her words had stung. Still, Eloise agreed that she could no longer call Hedgemont, her birthplace, home. Hedgemont had spent over a decade in her absence. When she reached the shore, she doubted it would recognize her face.

Navinia LeMorae was true to her word and booked travel for Eloise, Revelyn, and Bryn on a handsome vessel called Razengarde's Requiem.

"Do you know who Razengarde was?" Revelyn asked her upon boarding the ship.

"No, but I'm guessing you do," Eloise teased. Revelyn had a wry curl to his lips. He was a teacher by nature. He took joy in imparting knowledge. It was only sometimes annoying.

"Razengarde was a famous Ravenshade sea captain of legend. It's said he sailed Einalia's great lords away to protect them from The Dread Wyvern. He returned to save the Archmage Neith Fafalla. But Neith refused to abandon Einalia. Razengarde decided to stay and fight as well."

Given the revelations in the undercroft of Neith Temple, Eloise wasn't sure she could lend another Einalian legend much credence. But she enjoyed hearing it in Revelyn's voice, his chest against her back sending vibrations up her spine. They were given the diplomats' quarters at the forecastle, a gorgeous suite with a large bed beneath the forward-facing windows. In the week since they set sail, they spent much of their private hours simply holding each other nude beneath a single linen sheet, as if they could somehow absorb lost time through every pore in their skin.

It was the morning of the eighth day and Eloise had awakened before him. After being swept away in the initial ecstasy of seeing Revelyn, Eloise's ghosts returned to shake her from any restful slumber. It occurred to her that she no longer had any desire to return to Hedgemont or to see her aunt or her father. The thought of such a reunion filled her with anxiety. The anxiety was, of course, accompanied by the pressure to retrieve the ingredients necessary for Oran's resurrection.

She downed a cold cup of tea from the night prior and looked at the sun peeking over the horizon. The sky was a tapestry of crimson clouds. The silhouette of a distant ship disrupted the view, a curious and foreboding ink stain. Eloise slipped on her tunic and exited to the deck.

There was no sense of urgency outside in the morning air. Eloise wondered if she was the first one to spot the other ship. She could see Ylrich's feet sticking out from his position in the crow's nest. It was the sailor's job to keep watch, although he wasn't exactly steadfast in his duties. A dwarf named Sendar was whistling a tune while coiling rope beneath the mainsail. Leaning on the portside gunwale, Eloise was surprised to find Bryn, his arms wrapped tightly across his chest as though he were giving himself a hug.

She joined him, mimicking his stance and posture, and following his gaze to look out upon the endless expanse of ocean.

"You know there's a boat to the east and a breathtaking sunrise," she said. "But I guess this view is nice too."

He smiled at her. It was nice to see him break from his thoughts. Something was weighing on him.

"You're awake early," she said.