The Chained Watcher

Backstory: Child

Figured I'd get around to making a bit of a continuation of what happened with the child from the Injuries chapter.

On a side note... Why do so many of you think that the cultivator has something to do with this child? I'm genuinely confused here. There's zero relation between the two.

~~~

Violet eyes watch the mortal venturing through the uncharted wilderness, concealed from sight by both magic and a smooth mask covering the being's face. Its steps make not a whisper of sound as it begins following the young mortal, following behind without leaving a single trace of its passage.

The mortal, wearing the leather armor commonly borne by adventurers, wields a magic blade that bears the subtle signature of a Listener's magic. Despite that though, the violet eyes gaze upon a small pendant that swings from the mortal's neck, composed of a simple leather cord holding a single violet feather. No magic can be felt from the feather, but both the mortal and the being observing silently know better.

Night slowly falls, and the mortal sets up a basic camp in a large but shallow cave with a fairly high ceiling, lighting a warm fire near the entrance to keep smoke from collecting in the cave and choking the air.

Marielle settles down for the night, staring at her pendant for a few seconds while remembering the one who gave it to her. A being she's been warned many times about by the Listener who took her in, though she never let on that he was one of them. A Watcher.

Laying down with a sigh, she pulls the rather expensive travel blanket she'd splurged on to have made with feathers up to her shoulders, despite having long realized that normal feathers just aren't the same. She wouldn't say she's been spoiled, exactly, but it's a bit hard to not compare the feathers used to make the blanket with the feathered wing that had been laid over her to keep her from freezing in the winter's cold.

His promise echoes in her head again, and she closes her eyes, remembering what the being she happily dubbed 'Mister Purple' said when she'd asked if she would ever see him again. That once she grew up, if he happened to encounter her and there's noone nearby he would come and say hello.

Now that she's older and wiser, she recognizes the white lie behind the words. Words said to ease the sorrow of a child without binding one to one's word. She'll almost certainly never see him again, that much she's realized.

Now that she's a bit older, she's starting to realize how useful the various things he'd given her are, and that only makes her more certain that he'll never return. The white cloak has never gotten dirty, and continues to keep her from getting too warm or too cold in all but the most extreme natural temperatures. Her feather blade, though she's rarely had the chance to use it due to its suspiciously Watcher-like size and color, has saved her life more than once now. And her amulet...

Her hand reaches up to the amulet hanging around her neck, and she slowly traces her fingertips across the metal feathers, knowing by heart each and every ridge and groove. The first time she'd managed to activate it, she'd been first alarmed, then entranced by the wings wrought from golden light that appeared. It had also massively confused the pseudo-parent Listener she'd been living with, since apparently it gave off no magic whatsoever.

The wings, being both a shield and functional as actual wings, gave her a level of mobility that others would lack. She'd even found out that wrapping someone else in the wings of light would slowly heal them, and she herself healed at a fairly decent pace with the wings out. They've kept her safe many times where she would have died.

Slowly drifting off into a light doze, her thoughts continue absently circling around the friendly Watcher she'd met, remembering as much of that time as she has clear memories of.