Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Cortège, Chapter 1 - Eloise

Eloise Glass felt alone, more alone than she had been in her entire life. In spite of countless other lonely moments to choose from in her past, she was resolute in that assessment. She was numb in her loneliness, yet also miserable and furious. Frigid wind raked over her lips and cheeks in bitter solidarity.

She had been raised in Port Shorishal, the capital city of the Kingdom of Iron Fen, an ocean away from her family and friends. She had lived through adolescence as a pariah in the Blue Keep without a confidant or affection.

She knew loneliness well. It was an awful ghost that drifted in and out of the shadows throughout her life. It knocked on her doors and windows to remind her there was no one waiting on the other side. It shrouded her in gloom and waltzed with her depression.

And so when the mage, Oran Highwater offered his hand in friendship, it effectively saved her life. Neither of them realized it at the time. That dark revelation came later, years into their amity, when Eloise would idly imagine her life without him. She couldn't have done it; she was sixteen when they met; she knew she wouldn't have lasted another year. Port Shorishal was built upon towering cliffs. She would have found her grave between jagged rocks and the crashing tide.

In Oran's company, Eloise felt appreciated and cared for. In his absence, their correspondence delivered hope and laughter. His intervention had led to her meeting Sir Revelyn Laurie, the half-elf knight who had won her heart. Without Oran, she might've let love pass her by. Oran reminded her she was worthy of love.

Then, one day, Oran Highwater died.

They had been charged with the rescue of Princess Annette and the Marquess Renard. They were to be quick and discreet, so as not to pull resources from the war effort. They were an underutilized, yet formidable duo, Oran with his penchant for magic and Eloise with her proficiency in armed combat.

The royal heirs had been kidnapped by a doomsday cult, just across the border of Wyvern Rock in the Firgladen Forest. Renard was already dead when they arrived, but they succeeded in rescuing Annette, for a time. The Princess was cursed with a poison that would activate unless five assassins were slain. Eloise and Oran killed four, yet the fifth one, a young girl, ran in fear. So, Oran used magic to transfer the poison unto himself and Eloise cradled her best friend as he died.

That was the worst loneliness her heart had ever felt. To have been gifted the most valuable companion and to have him stripped away, that pain was worse, Eloise decided, than if she had never met Oran at all. Granted, it was better still to have known him. He had given her strength. And with that strength, she could overcome his loss, she knew, eventually.

He was still in her arms, his pale face rested on her knees. His brilliant green eyes were closed. His rust-colored hair and beard fluttered lazily in the night air. Neither Eloise nor Oran had moved much from where he fell. They were still on the crest of a path in the Firgladen Forest. The bodies of The White Stag Assassins they had slain were where they left them, at the base of a cliff, in the glen, and in the wood.

The assassin who had run from them was likely long gone. Eloise winced her eyes in her memory. She was wiry and skittish, quite opposite to Eloise like most of Iron Fen. Eloise was broad and powerfully built, dark with keen golden eyes. The assassin was squirrely with thin ashen hair that wafted in the wind like silk. She couldn't have been older than sixteen and Eloise wished she were dead.

Eloise's Aunt Clarella was a morticant, a sacred mortician in her home Kingdom of Hedgemont. Clarella would often speak on the death of a young person as though it were inherently more tragic than the death of an adult. It was the loss of potential, she would say. Eloise recalled shrugging in agreement at the time. In hindsight, she decided the sentiment was rubbish. Youth was not a promise for future great deeds. The girl assassin's life did not carry more value than Oran Highwater's on account of the disparity of years lived between them. The world would be a better place, Eloise decided, if the girl had died in Oran's place.