Six years ago the White Rose Treaty was signed, halting the Abyssal War that had raged for decades. The treaty should have put an end to the strife between Elves and Humans.
It didn't.
Nura Wolfire is trying to find happiness and contentment after...
Nura's eyes strain by the light of the fire as she studies the black poison. There's a texture to it, one she never noticed before when the poison was mingled with blood, but now she sees it clearly.
Nura looks up as she thinks, her eyes landing on Talon. He kneels amongst the trees ahead, his back to her, his face tilted towards the sky as he murmurs his prayers. Nura presses her lips together and watches Talon place a flower at the base of a tree, an offering to whatever Spirit he's trying to talk to.
Nura glances back down. She only knows of one plant that makes such a grainy texture even when ground to a seemingly fine paste. Therine moss, a poison that thickens blood and causes clots. It's already a deadly plant, akin to a venomous snake bite. But to make the poison so dark, they'd need a combination of...
"Shit," Nura murmurs, causing Talon's head to tilt. His prayers stop when Nura grabs for one of their packs and drags a map from within, spreading it across the dirt so the fire illuminates it.
Nura's brows knit together as she studies the map, her finger tracing across Cirallian until she reaches the east.
While Nura has been working on stopping the victim's blood from clotting, another silent poison has been going to work without Nura even realising. Lily leaves would be paralysing and shutting down the organs of the victim, killing them before she could even pinpoint the problem.
Her finger stops on the jagged points on the map, past Hold Tiore. "Talon," she says, her words a breath, but he hears her and turns. "Talon, I think I know where the Shadow Elves live." Towards the east are the forested Emerald Mountains. Both these poisons grow there where it's damp from the sea air and lush with the amounts of rain it gets.
Talon moves towards her, standing over the fire and looking down at the map before his gaze flicks to her. He studies her for a drawn out moment, his brow arcing. "You got that information from a piece of stained cloth?"
Nura looks down at the cloth and can't help the smile that curves her lips. Indeed she did. "The poison the Shadow Elves use is Therine moss and Lily leaves. Both of those things only grow in the Emerald Mountains." She looks at him again as he kneels across from her, splaying his hands over the warm of the fire. Hands flecked with pale scars.
Nura meets his eyes before she can continue to stare at his scars.
"There are easier poisons to use than these," she elaborates. "Poisons that are safer to handle and perhaps work quicker. But why go to the effort of buying these other more accessible poisons if these ones grow right where you've set up camp? It's the only thing that makes sense."
Talon nods. "Your words match the reports of heightened activity from the Shadow Elves in the east," he murmurs, inclining his head, something in his eyes sparkling as he looks at Nura.
She doesn't look away, instead she raises her chin, reminded that she's more than some damsel in distress. She may not wield the powers of an Ice Elf, she may not know how to swing a sword or skin a deer, but she knows this. She knows poisons and tonics and herbs and wounds.
Which is why they brand her a Witch.
Her face shutters as she thinks on this, blinking as she lowers her gaze to the licking flames.
Her strength is her weakness. She'd be a fool to forget that.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
