The Blood that Binds

Into the Pit

Solona was up with the sun the next morning. She wanted to get out of the Keep and into the city before she could be waylaid any further. After finding Ser Pounce-a-lot, they had all gone inside and she had been forced to sit for hours and listen to Maker knew how many local nobles pledge loyalty to her. These people had all been loyal to Howe at one point or another, and true to form, one young lady sought her out, whispering of a conspiracy against her. Without the proof the woman promised, Solona could not act. She had to wait it out. She promised her sparse soldiers would be spread out among the arling as best as she was able, leaving the logistics to Varel.

She roused the others, finding Nathaniel already up. Within an hour, they were walking along the muddy road toward the city. After all of the action she had seen recently, and the rain that had plagued Amaranthine thus far, Solona's leg was giving her trouble. Blessedly, the rain had seemed to decide it wanted a break, and the sun was peeking through the clouds as they followed the road. Anders held back, lingering beside her as Oghren and Nathaniel walked ahead, trading jabs. Nathaniel's well guarded humor had shown itself at supper the previous night as Oghren had tried to rile him up about his father and he had turned the conversation in his favor with a barely there smirk. They strolled along at their easy pace and Anders inhaled a deep breath, stretching his arms over his head and jostling Ser Pounce-a-lot from his place on his shoulder. The cat hopped to the ground and twirled around Solona's legs forcing her to pause and scratch his head before continuing on. Anders' voice broke the peaceful silence of the morning. "Ah, can you smell that? That is the smell of freedom... It comes complete with the smell of dogs and dust, but the freedom is in there, too."

"You really don't care for the Circle of Magi, do you?" Solona asked as Ser Pounce-a-lot chased after a butterfly as it flitted across the road ahead.

"I escaped from the tower seven times. After the last time, they put me in solitary confinement for a year, as you know," he said with a sigh, conjuring a small fireball in his palm and bouncing it back and forth between his hands. "Eventually, I'm sure they would have branded me a maleficar, true or not, and executed me."

Solona watched his features go distant as he relived his experiences. "Was the Circle so bad?" she asked, having hated it there herself, but not having any real reason to put herself through what he had to be free.

"You know as well as I do, don't you?" he said, the fireball growing slightly before he snuffed it out with a closed fist. "The problem is that mages are tolerated. Barely. It's like you need permission to be alive. There's nothing a mage can do to prove himself. Everyone needs to be protected from you. The end."

Solona knew that feeling all too well. "I can sympathize," she agreed, pulling her staff to use as a walking stick through the mud that kept trying to suck her boots off her feet.

He turned a grin on her. "I should certainly hope so." Then he sighed, the grin fading. "All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools."

She snorted, and jokingly nudged him. "Sounds reasonable."

His grin reappeared and he chuckled, "See? I knew you understood. Never mind me. Now and again I recall that I'm not sitting in a cell and I have to smile, that's all." His arm snaked around her shoulders and he gave her a short half hug before pulling away. Ser Pounce-a-lot returned to them and jumped up into Anders' arms where he climbed up to lounge like a scarf around his neck. Solona had never seen a cat behave quite like that one.

They approached the city, the small village outside the battlements of the main gate their first destination. The hunters that had discovered the possible entrance to the deep roads were waiting just outside the closest house to the gates. One was a scruffy looking man with bright red hair and exaggerated features. The other was an elf, blonde and quiet. Solona approached them and the red head's eyes slid up and down her as she crossed her arms at the scrutiny. In spite of her entourage and her clothing, he still felt the need to brazenly express his crudeness. "Looking for some company, honey-pie? I am always available for riveting conversations with fine women."