𝙳𝚊𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚣: 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙴𝚒𝚗𝚜

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

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𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚

Bibi – Of Romani origin. Described as a tall, thin, barefoot woman dressed in red. Some gypsies tell of seeing two lambs by her side, their gentle blood feeding her, while others say they are children whose souls now belong to her. The bargains of fate in which she deals often trade mortals their greedy, twisted and dangerous desires for something of value to only her, be it fancy garments, a single hair from their head, or whatever else she may need for her dark workings. The men and women who go to the Bibi are of the most desperate for what they want for the Devil himself can write no better contract than she.

Outside of the city's southeast fortress walls, near the river that flows from the north, through a bulk of the city and around the south mountains, lies a camp. A small society of wagons and tents sets nestled amongst the forest. Gypsies, Romani people, are completely unto themselves. Though the sophisticated people of Loviturä consider themselves high above common gypsies, the populace of Loviturä has not insisted they be run off. Instead, annual festivities welcome the gypsies as suppliers of much of the entertainment, but despite this form of acceptance, the Romani people here would never regard themselves as civilians of Loviturä.

There are many bonfires tonight as it is a cold night. One fire situated between three wagons supplies warmth to several gypsies. Men and women talk as children chase one another in their young games. Of a sudden, one of the men grows silent and soon another. As the quietness spreads through them, each gypsy turns the way of the first, looking for what is causing this disruption.

Like a shadow through the trees, Eber moves at the edge of the camp, destined for something farther in the woods. His passing, holds the attentions of many, but the eyes that linger on him long after the men and women go back to their talking, are those of the tribe leader. Elder Azzo watches Eber, the soldier not a complete stranger to him.

Deeper in the woods, there sets a vardo wagon, and next to it, a bender tent of good size. Within the bender tent, there is a colorful home. Glass bottles of varied size, shape,

hue rest on small tables and hang from the wooden framework of the tent. Finely carved non-matching furniture pieces make places for conversation and relaxation, setting atop large rugs that spread over the dirt floors, covering the ground in patterns and colors.

The center of the tent is a huge fire pit, alight with burning logs, smoke rising up and out of the open flaps in the roof of the tent. And at that center, around that fire, sits a middle-aged woman. Her long black hair drapes over her shoulder, her black lashes encircling bright blue eyes that watch the fire like glowing orbs. Her clothes are simple, two layers of skirts bound to her waist by ties and an underbust corset. The sleeves of a man's shirt, much like that of a soldier's uniform, hang down her arms, past her hands. Over top it all, her shoulders stay warm under a bright red shawl.

Peacefully, she pokes at the fire with a rod, sparking new flames on the wood when gradually there is a chill the fire can not warm. Drifting her gaze, she slowly looks from the fire over her shoulder, finding Eber near her, watching. She jumps to her bare feet. "A Der Vorfahr soldier?" She sets the back of her slim hand to her forehead. "Have you come to hurt me?" Her eyes cast his way, fluttering her black lashes. "Or have you come to defile me?" She grows a smirk. "I really hope it's the second one." With that, the damsel act is gone.

"Lorelei," he says tolerantly.

"Oooh, you said my name, this must be important." She muses, crossing her arms.

"Perhaps." He ventures near one of her tables at the edge of the tent's curved walls. "It is not exaggeration to say I need you."

"Need me? The mighty soldier named, Soldier? Whatever for?" She watches him peruse her items on the table. Finding a necklace adorned by a small silver cross, he lifts the chain, drawing the cross into his palm. Tilting her head, her brow wrinkles at his actions when there is a sound like tinder on a fire, the hissing noise of something burning. She looks back down to his hand and sees the cross beginning to burn him. At once, her play and toying fades, her face showing something genuine instead as she rushes toward him. Snatching the cross from his palm, she tosses the necklace to the side, holding his palm up for her to see. The cross's shape is seared into his skin, the burns looking unbearable. "Eber," her low voice says under her breath. Moving from him, she collects a cloth and dunks it in a small barrel of cool water, returning to him. "Tell me what happened." He observes her ask whilst she wraps his hand. Watching her, her wavy hair bunches over her shoulder, brushing against her face with her arm's movements, those blue eyes glancing up rarely to peer into his soul. Steadily, Eber feels the familiar sharp pain in his chest he ignores.

His manner shifts back to its lifelessness. "I was killed in battle... Battle against my own... Men I had watched die came back from the dead. They killed all of us who were left. I and three of my army awakened from our deaths and have returned to Loviturä."

Hearing his story, her study of his face lingers in his dark eyes. "How is that possible?" She says more to herself.

"I would expect you to have that answer."

Flustered, she spouts, "I am the one who did this to you, Soldier." She pokes at his chest. "But even I do not know every facet to it." Glaring at him, his calmness begins to quiet her. Finally, she shrugs. "I guess you should just count your blessings." She pauses and stares at him as he does the same down on her. "Get it?" She pokes her elbow into his side. "Because you are damned." Her heavy brows lift. His stare holds. Her brows lower with her lips. "You were more fun before you died... sort of." She rolls her eyes, her body turning with them. "You said you need me. What for?"

His gaze follows her. "I want guidance."

"Guidance?"

"In one day I will be leading an escort to the village of Hieb, nothing must go wrong and yet I know little about what I now am, that is not good. I need to know what hunger I may expect, what urges. I need the guidance of one with more knowledge than I have with the matter at hand."

"Whom are you escorting?"

He pauses. "Ambrozij Kasimir."

A grin grows on the woman's face and she begins to laugh. "An untoter guarding the Head of the Church!" She collects herself and looks him over. "Now, you have to find that funny."

"...There is an irony to it." He stares dully. "As I said, Lorelei, I need you."

The play to her blue orbs fades into the warmth also in them, her air becoming more serious as her tone shows a touch of devotion. "You have me."