Echoes of the Reach

[1.1] | A Chance Encounter

     Of the multitude of lands across this magnificent and mystifying continent, the territories of the Argent Pact must rank among the least worthy of one's ventures. Their wildernesses are rampant, their settlements treacherous, their governments languid. Yet the allure of the peripheral proves all too irresistible for many a seasoned traveller – present company included.

     - Corval, Theodosius, A Most Curious Discourse Collected from Five Years' Travel Across the Famed Dominions of Zeydal, III, p. 186

*

     She had the dream again last night. It had been her only dream for as long as she could remember, and every time, it had the same end.

     At first, she sat among rolling wildflower-flecked fields and lakes that lapped their soothing warmth over her paddling feet. Trees towered with leaves that ranged from lush, vibrant greens to red-stroked amber hues to the dignified silver of the full moon that peeked through the setting sun's veil. Flocks of small, swift birds flapped through the honeyed air, their emerald feathers blanching to a pure, dazzling white in preparation for the long journey over the snow-capped mountains. Herds of roaming horses trotted close by without a care. She did not recognise the place, but she knew the feeling it instilled within her. She knew the feeling of home.

     Then she heard it. "Go, Talwyn!" It was her father's voice, yet Breock was nowhere to be seen. Before Talwyn could gather the breath to speak, the wind turned, the lake water chilled around her ankles, and the skies darkened until nothing but light-slivered shapes surrounded her. A bitter, metallic taste tainted her mouth, and a dull ache rang through her head.

     "Now, Talwyn! Run!" Years of handling tamed and wild horses had taught her father plenty about patience, and that made the desperation in his cries cut even deeper. As the last straggling horse fled into the wilderness, Talwyn pulled herself to her feet and turned around. There, at the mercy of the swelling storm, stood a narrow single-storey shack crafted out of layered leaves and winding vines. Its feeble light flickered against the shadows, and a lone figure lingered in its doorway, silhouetted yet without doubt looking back at her.

     Her father called to her over and over. "Go, Talwyn! Go, now!" The darkness swallowed the house in one sweep, then surged relentlessly onwards. Blazing streaks of thick storm clouds charged towards her, every front unfurling into two broader, deeper waves that rose until they disappeared into the blackened sky. She cried out, but she heard nothing beyond the storm and her father's echoing pleas. "Run! Run, Talwyn! Run!"

     Alone against the storm, Talwyn did what she always did. She ran. She ran from the clouds towards where the sun had been setting just moments earlier. Her lungs burned as screams raked along her throat, and still she ran.

     Shadows lashed out from her left. She swerved clear.

     Coal-black clouds crashed in from her right. She weaved out of their path.

     A dense, roaring wall of darkness curled overhead, shaking her spine as it plunged into the ground ahead of her. There was nowhere left to go. Talwyn threw herself down to the dirt, and as she curled into the tightest ball she could manage, she cast one final glance to the sky above. There, as always, the scarred moon stared down at her, its vivid green glow finally full. And when she looked down, the glow followed, bright green light pouring from the spidering lightning marks seared along her lower arms.

     Vidias was whole, and Vidias was with her.

     "Talwyn? Are you with me?" A violent jolt rocked through Talwyn Farrier's legs, and a follow-up tremor wiped the image of the looming moon from her mind. In its place came a haze of rust and rock dust, cracked walls climbing all around her, and the grey, milky glaze of Kerensa's concerned eyes. "There you are. Any longer, and I'd have sent a spectre into your head to shake your senses loose."