It Began in a Tavern - Official Legacy Roleplay (Part 2)

Luxuria

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Welcome to the Round Robin Roleplay game, It Began In A Tavern. UPDATE: 5/18/2025 - Given this roleplay is in act two and began on the old forum, it is no longer accepting new members. Old members who are vacation mode may return.

Accepted players, please remember each post is 1,500 words max and 300 words minimum. Lore can be added in a post, just make sure there is some forward movement to the plot. Know only people who have created characters may post- if you are still in the process of creation, please wait until your name is added to the list below.

NEW FORUM UPDATE: New players are welcome to join, but the RP information will take time for me to port over from the old site. So, please have patience as there is a lot.

Following the first post below, the order of writing is:

1. @ps102
2. @Louanne Learning
3. @Gravy/ @Luxuria
4. @SoulFire / @IgnitedxSoul
5. @EFMingo (In Vacation Mode 3/14/25) (Not on new forum, yet.)
6. (Open Seat)
7. (Open Seat)
All others will be added below in order of arrival. If you do not post for 7 days, your turn will be skipped, and you will wait until the next round! Have fun and remember this is casual writing.
 
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Audiences with the Queen irritated Barnabas. Not only was Her Majesty a poor listener, she had strange ideas. “Controlling time is a worthwhile endeavor,” Melina said. “But more importantly, I must beat Gamma.”

Hemios was quick to jump in and support his idol. “The entire Alphabet Society is a scourge,” he averred.

“Come, now,” Barnabas put in, “let’s stay focused. We must recover the fragments.”

Melina continued with her own agenda. “I have dispatched Araspeth,” she said, with a roll of her eyes, “—but I do not put full confidence in her. I want you two on the case.”

“How so?” Barnabas asked.

“Go to Cliffcross. Bring me the head of the one who threatens me.”

“And the fragments?” Hemios asked.

“Those, too.”

Hemios and Barnabas exchanged glances. “I fear it must be,” Barnabas admitted, in a surrendering tone.

He and Hemios exited. Their footfalls echoed in the stone hallway, and then Hemios said, “The scriptures warn against such an expedition.”

Barnabas lightly laughed. “Better you should put your faith in logic and reason.”

“And be like you?” Hemios grumbled. “Have you no guiding principles? Nothing bigger than you?”

“Like what? Faith in an ancient text?”

“Sacrilege! But, being the open-minded person I am, I will not report you.”

Barnabas grinned. “The sooner you learn that it is all science, even your magic, the better off you will be.”

***

The woods were dense, but the bridle-path well-travelled. The horses of Hemios, Barnabas, and two stolid guards, trotted in the green, without much conversation, but some.

“I will do whatever it takes to gain the Queen’s favor,” Hemios said.

Barnabas rolled his eyes. “And what do you owe to yourself?”

“I am a gnat in her presence.”

“Well … even the gnat yearns to survive.”

Near sunset, ready to camp, they spied a fire’s smoke, and nodded in agreement that they should investigate. They came up to the small encampment. Two men in leathers and a middle-aged woman with hair severely pulled back looked up with curiosity as the four envoys of the Queen halted their horses.

The one man rose and announced, “I am Nalki, we want no trouble.”

“It’s not trouble we bring to you,” Hemios replied.

Barnabas squinted at the woman, unmistakable even in the firelight, and his breath caught in his throat. “Dusca,” he said, “is that you?”

***

Dusca stood, and effected a brave face. An anger such as she had never known seized her, but she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing her true feelings. “Hello, Barnabas,” she said. “Life has been good to you?”
 
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The forest was so dark, Olive could barely see where she was going, but decided to trust Katara to follow the road ahead. But then, the other woman brought her horse to a halt.

“Do we keep riding or find a place to rest?”

“I am not sure,” Olive admitted, glancing behind her the best she could. Ravenna had fallen asleep some time ago, which might have been the best for her. “I don’t feel an inn is safe, but camping in the woods is not something I wish to risk.”

“Do we keep riding?” Katara asked, glancing at the stars overhead.

“No,” Olive couldn’t do that. Her legs, and behind were hurting. “But maybe…”

“What?”

“We could find an abandoned cabin or maybe a mage citadel would take us as pilgrims for a night.”

“No,” Katara did not want to use a mage citadel- where knowledge was kept for a town and rooms given to the weary. “It’s too risky. Besides, you are the only one who could enter. It is not a place for poets or… her.”

“True,” Olive wished she had a better idea, but couldn’t think of any. “But I don’t think sta—“

She heard something to her right and before Olive could search for her dagger, an old woman appeared, lantern in hand. She was dressed in a worn green dress and had a faded blue scarf over her head to cover her hair. “Excuse me. I don’t wish to frighten you.”

“Who are you?” Katara demanded, pointing her blade at the lady. She wasn’t going to kill her, but would leave a mark if this woman did anything funny. “How did you—“

“I am Alua of the Silent Woods,” the old woman continued, backing away from the dagger. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. But we must get off the road. I sense danger.”

“And how are you doing that?” Katara was too tired for guesses at this point.

“Ah, I know this forest. The trees, they speak to me. For I am an Earth Mage- banished, yes. But my connection has never faded.”

Katara was silent a moment before putting away her weapon. “Okay. We’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure?” Olive asked and she nodded.

“Show us the way.”

“I shall,” Alua smiled and began to slowly walk through the trees. Katara nudged her horse to follow and soon, they came to a small wooden cabin. Just like one Olive hoped to find abandoned. “It’s not much, but feel free to rest for the night.”

“What about our pursuers?” Olive asked, glancing into the forest.

“These trees will protect you,” Alua reassured her. “The paths change. The rocks and fungi move of their own will. Those following you shall be turned around and around until daybreak.”

“Thank you,” Olive said before asking Katara for help. Ravenna was still resting on her shoulder with her arms around Olive’s waist. After a few minutes of figuring out how to get free without sending the other to the ground, Olive dismounted. Then, helped Katara get the other down and into the house.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Alua said as she lit the candles in the small one-room cabin.

Olive thanked her again and went to get the bedrolls from the horses. There were only two now, though. The other lost when they rushed from the campsite. So, Olive gave one to Katara and placed a blanket over Ravenna before tucking into bed.
 
The sun was just starting to set upon the Wooden Ladle. Soon, the place would fill with farmers, mill workers, and drunkards. Araspeth planned on taking advantage of the emptiness of the early evening. She wanted to make as little of an audience as possible—the minimized paperwork was only a slight bonus.

Araspeth entered the tavern with an entourage of guards. Their prior arrest ended in the sudden death of one of her municipal mages, so she made mitigated as many risks as she could this time. They stormed in and were met with an impatient woman Araspeth did not recognize. “I have a warrant for the arrest of the impudent brat who interfered in the official act of detaining Roman Demid!” Araspeth shouted.

At the wooden counter, the woman, with a puzzled look, peered up from her tally sheet. “You mean—you mean Olive?”

Araspeth raised her chin. “The very one. Bring her to me.”

The barmaid looked around the empty tavern. “She isn’t here.”

Anger flared through Araspeth. Insolence, everywhere she turned. She approached the bar slowly, her hand rested upon the hilt of her sword. “You certainly wouldn’t want to be charged with harboring a fugitive now, would you? Once we could believe was a misunderstanding, maybe you truly didn’t know Roman Demid—though I doubt it—but twice you’re starting to show a pattern.”

A look of utter disdain passed through the woman’s face before falling away. “Like I said, she isn’t here. I’m trying to prepare so we can open tonight. If you wouldn’t mind, get on out of here. You’ll scare off our patrons.”

Araspeth raised a hand and snapped a finger. Her guards all stood at attention, their armor clanging with the sudden movement. “Search the tavern, head to toe. Leave no stone unturned.” The men all set out in different directions. Two of the guards set off up the stairs into the main living area and Araspeth relished the look of worry that flashed in the woman’s eyes.

Araspeth placed her hands shoulder width apart on the table and leaned down to be eye level with the barmaid. “What’s your name?” She asked.

“Dusca,” the woman said.

“When we find Olive—and I do mean when, not if—I’ll come for you next, Dusca. You’ll have the honor of seeing the girl’s head on a pike as I drag you to a cell.”

There was a muffled rush of steps coming back down the stairs. One guard, out of breath, stuttered out. “High Priestess, there are three young women fleeing on horseback. One of them matches the description of our fugitive.”

Araspeth cursed and slammed her fist on the bartop which cracked and splintered. “Go, after them!”

The guards set off immediately. Araspeth hesitated a moment, her eyes piercing into Dusca. “Expect to see me again.” Then Araspeth followed suite out of the tavern.

By the time they had all mounted their horses and set off down the path, the young women were out of sight. All that remained was a cloud of dust kicked up by their horses lingering in the air. They raced ahead anyway, following the main path. Araspeth scanned the woods and riverbank along the way. If the women did break free of the path, she would not miss them. She couldn’t, not with the pressure of the Queen already so heavy upon her.

They followed the path all the way into the city proper, and there was still no sight of them. Araspeth’s skin crawled, her face hot with rage. She turned to her guards. “Disperse, alert any guard you pass. We mustn’t let them leave the city.”

As the guard departed, Araspeth pondered where Olive and her entourage could possibly be heading.
 
That same night, Gamma appeared in the Oceania Archipelago’s largest island. Pine trees surrounded her. Their branches waved in rhythm with her auburn hair as the gentle sea breeze flowed past.

Gamma joined her palms in prayer. The leaf symbol etched in her forehead glowed orange and the forest slowed to a standstill. Everything around—the grass, leaves, branches and trees—became illuminated in azure. Little beams rose from the grass, and particles of various colors shifted in and out of existance.

The leaf continued to glow. Through Koyo, Gamma could view dimensions normally invisible to the naked eye.

She extended both of her arms and gently rose her self up in the air, eventually reaching the peak of those trees. The entire island was in view—along with that yellow spherical barrier she and the other Alphabet members formulated.

That was good. The queen hadn't stepped foot in that place. Or at the very least, she was unable to breach it. They all knew that it was a matter of time. But none of that mattered now.

Gamma descended back down and walked towards the largest pine tree. “I know you’re here, Yuuna.” She placed her palm at its large trunk. “Show yourself.”

But little Yuuna did not appear. Gamma’s green eyes narrowed. She had no choice but to force her out. With one sudden and swift release of Ether, she sent energy shockwaves through the tree’s own Ether network.

Some of its leaves instantly withered away and fell down one after the other. Little Yuuna still did not appear. “You’re quite persistent today,” Gamma smiled. “But I’ll do it again. I know you’re here. You can’t escape the barrier.”

Yuuna’s voice echoed through the cold air. “Your threats are of no meaning.”

Gamma removed her hand from the trunk. It made no difference whether Yuuna was right in front of her. “I mean no harm. Quite the opposite, I have a proposal that you might enjoy hearing.”

“No harm? You have trapped me in this island. I need not hear any of your proposals, human. They are probably of a violent nature.”

“You hate humans. I get it.”

“You are a faulty creation. You plagued this world.”

“A world that you so much love.”

“And a world that the architect is now displeased with.”

“Have no fear, Yuuna.” Gamma placed her palm over her chest. “I am here to tell you that this world has plenty of hope left. That there are humans who are worth the effort.”

“Impossible. All humans are the same—through and through!”

“No, you’re wrong. In fact, there is a certain someone I’d like you to meet. You will get along well.”

“I’m not interested.”

“That’s too bad.” She slowly turned her back to the tree trunk. “And here I was going to offer you a way out of this island.”

Instantly, Yuuna—a small black cat-like spirit—appeared in front of Gamma. “Wait!” she flapped her wings to come close. “For once, you said something of interest!”

Gamma smiled and waved her finger. “It comes with conditions.”

“What conditions? Tell me right now!”

“You have to fuse with a human.”

Yuuna’s red eyes and whiskers twitched. A sphere of light appeared around her violently. “You’re insane!”

“I’m offering you freedom—and a way to save this world from certain doom,” she said. Pure energy continued to gather around Yuuna. Gamma knew that if she felt like it, she could end her right on that spot.

But she knew that Yuuna, the spirit of light, could never possibly do that.

“You dare suggest that I waste myself on a human? How dare you—“

“Sssshhhh!” She put a finger over her tiny mouth. “I know you hate the idea. But hear me out for a second. You will like what you hear. I guarantee it.”

The light around Yuuna subsided. “Make haste. Do not waste my time.”

“I found a young woman. She is like you. And just like you, she once wished to set the world straight.”

“Once?” Yuuna did not like that. “What do you mean by that?”

“That’s complicated. It doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is this woman’s song.”

“Her… song? What about it?”

Gamma locked eyes with Yuuna. “This woman knows your song.”




***​

Alua with her lantern in hand stepped out of the cabin. The full moon, shining over the dense forest that surrounded the clearing, lit everything in its silver haze. The crickets chirped their nightly songs and the distant owls hooted along the rhythm.

A few meters away from the cabin, sat on an old log, was Olive overlooking the silvery sea of stars that scarred the cobalt sky. She stepped closer and then stopped when a single tear ran down her left cheek. It deflected the skylight and dropped down the grass.

She went on and stepped closer. “Can’t sleep, young lady?”

In response, Olive immediately wiped her face clean. She dropped her gaze towards the ground and said, “Not really. I’m not really a huge fan of sleep.”

Alua sat next to her. “That’s not normal. Do terrors haunt you?”

Olive’s face drooped further. “My past is what haunts me.”

“Your past, huh? Are you a criminal? Lab rat?”

She shook her head rapidly in response. “I’m just a nobody.”

“That can’t be. You’re somebody.”

“I don’t know who I am.” Olive laughed to herself. “Now they’re chasing me. I guess I faulted someone in the past. I must be a terrible person.”

Alua laughed—much more than Olive. “It’s an honour for the royal government to be looking for you. That makes you someone special. A lot more special than the nobody you claim to be.”

“I don’t want to be someone special. I just want to live in peace.”

“Peace must be earned.”

To that, Olive didn’t respond. More tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just want to be in peace. I just want to find that coast from my memories. I don’t want anything else.”

“A coast, eh?” Alua set the lantern down and crossed her arms together. The candle light flickered on her wrinkly face as she descended deep in thought. All the while, Olive continued to cry next to her. “Well…” she released her arms. “I don’t know your full story. But that coast sounds important to you.”

“It’s all I want to find. I just know that I’ll be able to trace the real me then. I just know it.”

“And I hope that you will. But I have lived for a long time to sense that there is a hard road ahead of you. You must keep going. If you do, you’ll make it to that coast of yours.”

For the first time, Olive looked Alua in the eyes. “Will I really? What if I fail?”

“You will fail. But that shouldn’t stop you. Get up”—she clenched her fist—“and keep going. Fight and never stop until you have what you want.”

“And what if I fail again?”

“Then you get up again!” Alua stood to her feet and made a spin. “You don’t ever stop. Ever. No matter how many times you fall down, you get up again. Those who don’t are left behind. Do you want to be left behind?”

“N-no…”

“Then get up!” Alua pointed at her. “Get up and fight. Trust me, you can do it. I used to be sort of like you. A young troublemaker who could never quite digest those royal dicks up in their big and stupid castle. I hated them. I hated them to the core. All my life, I just wanted to live detached from their tyranny. And then“— she extended her hand and summoned a vine in an instant —“I became one with this forest. Nature hides me and I live in peace. It took decades to get to this point but I did. And so can you.”

“But what if—“ Olive thundered to her feet. Her tears flowed harder. “What if I’m not as strong enough as you? What if it was never meant to be?”

“Nothing is set in stone. Nothing is meant to be. You alone are in charge of your destiny! You! And nobody else. Stop believing that and you’ll loose everything. You’ll loose that coast. Do you want to loose that coast?”

Olive shook her head. “No!”

“Then fight.” Alua placed a hand on Olive’s shoulder. Her voice was now calm and kind. “You can do it. I promise it to you. I sense power in you.”

“I don’t know…” Olive averted her gaze. “I just—“

“You’re tired. You can’t think straight. Go and sleep. I’ll prepare you a special herbal tree that will help with that, okay?”

“Okay…”

Minutes later, when Alua ventured in the forest to gather the herbs, a green-hooded mage appeared behind her. Without turning to look, she called the mage’s name. “Good to see you, Delta. What brings you here?”

Delta took off the hood. Her glossy black hair reflected the moonlight, as did her crystal-blue eyes. “You’re hosting three important people. Be cautious.”

“I know that. The forest tells me everything.”

“You never change, teacher.” Delta smiled.

“I’m no longer your teacher. I’m just some old witch living her twilight years.”

“That’s not true. You are most wise. I trust you to keep them safe until daylight. Thanks for all you have done.”

With that, Delta vanished.
 
The firelight danced on Dusca’s face, and the gentle breeze raised whisps of her pulled-back hair, bringing recollections of the young girl he’d known so many years past to Barnabas’ mind. “I have been well,” he replied. “Very well … And you?”

“I take the days as they come.”

“Ah, a good philosophy.” He glanced at the two men who stood nearby. “What brings you out to the wilderness, like this?”

“We head for Cliffcross,” Nalki replied.

Dusca snapped her eyes to him, betraying a moment of alarm. Even now, Barnabas thought, she wanted to keep secrets from him. “You have family there?” he asked.

She affected a laugh. “My! So many questions! Am I under investigation?”

He dipped his chin. “Of course not … I apologize if I have been—unseemly.”

“It defines you,” Hemios muttered. He dismounted. “How lovely to see that you two are acquainted. We will camp here tonight. There is no magic cure for the ache in my bones.”

“Come,” Charin invited, “we welcome you.”

***

The men parleyed around the fire, with much laughter. “And then, and then,” Hemios sputtered, “she asked to see my spell book! You’ll find it here, between my legs, I told her. Come, show me how well you read!”

Dusca did not join in their ribald conversation. Eventually, Barnabas wandered over to settle down beside her. She did not meet his eye.

“I don’t remember you being such a shy, quiet thing,” he said.

“I am not shy,” she replied, with too much haste. “But I have no interest in the talk of men.” An owl hooted, toads croaked, and leaves rustled in the breeze. “And you, Barnabas,” she questioned, assuming an air of indifference, “I did not hear your voice raised much.”

“Ah, Hemios likes to brag about his conquests with women, but I have not known a woman since I was with you.”

The confession smacked Dusca upside the head. “Why would you tell me such a thing?” she asked.

His brows went up. “I’m not rightly sure myself. I just … I just saw you in the firelight, and it … it stirred me.”

She abruptly stood up. “You are twenty-five years too late.”

She charged into the forest, to relieve herself. Squatted, with her skirts pulled up around her middle, she peed. If only she could so easily void all thought of Barnabas.

With that speculation, she laughed to herself. She was being silly. She need only focus on Katara. Yes, Katara was her focus.

***

Alua’s cabin in the woods held so many questions, that Katara was ready to burst. The old witch pulled the lug pole out from over the fire and stirred the buckwheat porridge in the hanging iron pot. “We’ll send you on your way with a hearty breakfast,” she said.

Olive, in the rocker by the hearth, said, “You have been most kind.”

“Can I help?” Ravenna put in. She sat with Katara at the trestle table.

“Drink your tea,” Alua replied. “Fortify yourself. That is how you can help.”

“It is like you were an answer to a prayer,” Olive murmured, with a slight smile.

Katara narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been here?” she asked Alua.

“A long time.”

“How old are you?”

“Katara!” Olive chided. “That’s impolite.”

“Quite alright,” Alua responded, “quite alright.” She settled her old bones in a hard-back chair. “I am old, but not quite as old as the old things.”

“Old things?” Katara questioned.

“There are old things, older than the cities, older than rulers, older than humans themselves … as old as the stars.”

“Like what?” Katara asked.

“Magic and music,” Alua replied, with a twinkle in her eye. “And other things, forgotten, things humans have chosen to forget.”

“Forgetting has been my curse,” Olive said. “Why would anyone choose to forget?”

“When remembering is too hard. But I don’t see that impediment with you. Soon, you will remember more than your own life. You will remember the old things.”

“Why?” Katara asked. “What’s going to happen to her?”

“She will meet the source of her song.”

“In Cliffcross?”

Softly, Alua laughed. “All these questions! I’d wager you’ve the blood of a scientist in you.”

Katara recoiled. “I’m a poet!”

But the old witch’s words stimulated her. Had her father been a scientist? Katara decided she would welcome the possibility.

“Olive,” Alua beckoned.

“Yes?”

“You are destined for spirit magic.”

Olive’s eyes widened. “How—how do you know?”

“The forest tells me everything.”

Ravenna got up off of the table’s bench and went to Olive. She bent over and gave her a hug. “I’m here with you,” she whispered.

Katara sat up, at attention. “I’m here, too.”

“As it should be,” Alua said. “You all have your individual offerings. You all have your individual gifts. And when they come together, it will make a force to be reckoned with. It will change the world.”
 
“Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Hemios came to a halt in the middle of the forest. This morning when he awoke, he had planned to go his own way to Cliffcross with Barnabas. He was sure they could get there just fine, even if the forest was a bit disorienting. The more time Hemios spent outdoors, the more he realized how big the world was in comparison to the palace. It was a bit frightening. Thankfully, Nalki, who was so cheerful and enthralled by his stories the night before, offered to be their guide. The man did say he was an experienced traveler- so Hemios took him up on the offer; but now was regretting his choice.

Since he, Barnabas, Nalki and the other two set off down the road, Nalki had stopped several times to talk about the history of various trees or stare into the sky. Which, was most likely bad for the eyes, but Nalki said he was checking the time.

“I don’t want to miss lunch, after all.”

Which it was not as Nalki again stopped the group and they had a lovely picnic in the forest. With food, all of Hemios’ cares were forgotten as he told more of his stories he remembered while walking. When they were finishing lunch, Barnabas took him aside and demanded to know what he was doing.

“Can’t you see he’s attempting to stall us?” the High Scientist hissed under his breath. “He doesn’t want us-“

“That may be true,” Hemios couldn’t help but view the last few hours of travel with suspicion. “But without him, we would be lost in the wo-“

“We are lost.” Barnabas pointed out. “Or have you seen the road anywhere near here?”

“Not since we took that last shortcut.”

“See? He’s trying to lead us in circles so we never reach Cliffcross.”

“That may be,” Hemios wouldn’t discount the other’s concern. “But why would he do such a thing? He’s a mere traveler.”

“That he may be, but…” Barnabas glanced over to where Dusca was helping Charin put away the lunch leftovers. “She. She’s the daughter of the owner of the Wooden Ladle and is not to be underestimated.”

“Ah yes,” Hemios laughed at his fellow…whatever Barnabas was to him. Colleague? Co-worker? Rival? “A middle-aged woman- what terror she strikes into my heart.”

“No, you must listen to-“

“Barnabas, my dear…man?” Hemios paused and settled on that last word. “Please stop being so paranoid. If we are being led into a trap, I am powerful enough to save you.”

“But will you, is the question.”

“Perhaps. But for the time being, I see no reason for Nalki to mislead us on our journey.”

But six hours later, Hemios was not so sure of his words. Nalki had led them off the road again on another ‘shortcut’ and they were seemingly lost again. Even Nalki himself seemed confused. He stared into the night sky and after a moment, began to climb a tree.

“What are you doing?” Charin asked his husband.

“Trying to get a better view of the stars!” he called back and Hemios sighed heavily.

“I told you,” Barnabas said, making the other turn to see him standing behind. “Now, let me handle this.”

The man drew the sword he kept at his side and marched over to the others who were watching Nalki ascend into the trees.

“I have had enough of this ruse!” his voice made everyone turn toward him; even Nalki who was staring down from above. “You will guide us to Cliffcross properly or you will perish.”


~.~.~​

It did not take long for Olive and Katara to bridle the horses and pack their belongings. After Alua gave them a wheel of cheese, fresh bread and more healing herbs for Ravenna’s hand, the three departed. It was a pleasant morning to say the least. The birds were awake, the sun was warm and there was a light, but pleasant breeze. The three traveled on the old brick road through the forest- even though it was more dangerous. Because they did not wish to get lost. Every so often, Katara would bring her horse to stop and glance at the map to make sure they were going the right way.

“If we keep going this way,” she turned the map a bit to the left, “we’re going to hit the River of Beginning. I think.”

Katara had studied maps, but studying was different than using them for travel. She was sure they just came out of the Grand Forest in the Earth Region.

“Then, after the river, we angle North-west to Cliffcross.”

“How far is that?” Ravenna asked from where she sat in front of Olive on their horse. The two decided to switch for the time being.

“I donno. Maybe three, four days from here?”

“How are we going to cross the river with these horses?” Olive didn’t want to leave behind their noble steeds. The two horses had been a blessing to their journey.

“We’ll find a way,” Katara promised and rolled up the map before putting it back in the saddlebag. “Let’s go.” She nudged the horse and the three set off again, only pausing to let the horses graze a few minutes or for them to drink from a small pond they found. Otherwise, the three did not stop until nightfall.

“Ugh, I am so hungry!” Katara whined as she got down from the horse. “And my thighs hurt.”

“My butt…” Ravenna wished she had ridden behind Olive, because the horse was easier to sit on further back.

“Do you think we should stay here for the night?” After the bandits attacked the night before last, Olive was hesitant to sleep out in the open.
Sure, she had faced… she wanted to say what she had, but couldn’t remember. But she knew she shouldn’t feel this nervous.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Katara said, beginning to scout the clearing for twigs and other material to make a fire. “The horses are too tired and so am I.”

“Well, one of us should stand guard,” Ravenna suggested, finding a place to begin creating a firepit. “I will stay awake half the night and then wake one of yo-“

“Not me!” Katara yelled before Olive had a chance.

“Then, you will do it tomorrow night,” Ravenna concluded. “It isn’t good for all of us to be tired tomorrow. So, one of us-“ she grabbed a few twigs off the ground and snapped them into pieces. “Will get to sleep all through the night while the other keep watch. Then, then next night, one of the two people who didn’t sleep gets to rest. Now, longest straw sleeps.”

She held out the three twigs to Olive and Katara came over to grab one as well.

“Yes!” Katara cried as the others revealed their smaller prizes. “Looks likes it’s me!”

Olive and Ravenna shared a glance and threw their sticks away. Neither minded keeping watch, but both wished Katara would at least be more humble about winning.

But both knew that was impossible.

It was Katara.
 
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Wren woke to Olten’s snoring drowning out the soft sounds of the forest at dawn. His neck tense from the uncomfortable cot, he sat up and massaged the muscles. Their camp was laughable at best. Despite the supposed importance of their investigation, they were given little by way of supplies. Without even so much as a tent, they had taken to building their cots in a vague semi-circle around a fire pit Olten had constructed.

It was still dark, but Wren’s eyes had adjusted enough for him to make out the shapes around him. The young fire mage slept splayed across the cot, his arms and legs dangling carelessly over the edges. Pria’s cot was tidy, her bedding folded neatly at the foot. She was nowhere in sight. Wren didn’t panic, it was likely she had gone to relieve herself, but he was irritated. They had agreed to have one person keep watch each night in case of thieves or wild animals. She should have woken him up.

Wren opted to let Olten sleep, he only planned to be gone for a moment. He dawned his robes and set off through the cave’s entrance. Olten’s snoring faded in the distance as the forest sounds grew in volume. He paused and breathed deeply, taking in the hooting of owls and chirping of crickets. The moon glowed overhead, casting a pale blue light on the scene.

The music they had heard before was no longer present, but it played on repeat in his mind. It was an omen, a promise of desperation and fear. Whatever the music foretold, Wren did not know if he had the fortitude to withstand it. He worried even more for the younger mages he had brought out here.

A crunch of hooves in foliage echoed through the trees and Wren turned his focus toward the sound. He could not see anything and set off in that direction, toward Cliffcross. Along the way toward the city, Wren passed a fawn. It froze at the sight of him, eyes wide and spooked. Wren admired its elegance and as he took his next step, it darted off, deeper into the wood.

Cliffcross came into view as Wren passed through the trees, and in the distance he saw the figure of a person sitting in the grass, hunched over. He knew at once that it was Pria with her nose buried in her sketchbook. Wren walked up and stood beside her. She did not acknowledge him but focused entirely on the charcoal in her hands.

By Wren’s count, Pria was on her seventh drawing of the exclusion zone. First was the raven, then a handful of the raindrops, the cascading light upon the city, and some of the horses mid-stride. She had finally moved on to the people. Pria had drawn the scene of three young boys, all appearing to run madly away from a fourth. It was most likely a game of tag. If not for the scene visible before him, in the still quiet that the city had become, Wren would have thought the drawing serene. In the full context, it felt haunting.

“You really should get more sleep,” Wren said. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Pria shrugged it off, her scribbling on the paper intensifying.

“I’m not tired,” she replied. The drawing looked complete to Wren, it captured the scene in more than enough detail for their reporting. But she kept drawing as though to stop moving would be to suffer through a dissolution of time herself.

“It’ll all be there in the morning.” Wren regretted saying it as soon as it left his lips. Pria froze, her hand gripping the charcoal so tight her knuckles turned white. A silent moment passed, then she let out a great sigh and relaxed.

“You’re right, Wren. They will all still be here, and it drives me mad.” Pria looked up and over her shoulder at Wren. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, it was obvious she had been crying.

“It does no one any good for you to suffer their pain for them.”

“Do you think they’re still aware? Do they know that they’re frozen still, their minds racing, locked in a formless prison? Or is this merely a momentary blip for them, and once they’re free it will be as though no time passed at all?”

“You can ask them when that time comes,” Wren said. “For now, you’re honoring them by keeping this record. Take pride in that. Do not mourn a loss that, perhaps, they won’t even experience.”

Pria closed her sketchbook and pocketed her charcoal. She stood, faced Wren, and embraced him tightly. Wren stayed still, stunned at first by the intimacy, then he returned the hug. She sighed and released, taking a step back.

She looked Wren in the eyes. “I hope what we’re doing here helps.”

“Me too,” Wren replied.

After another moment, Pria nodded solemnly, and set off toward their camp.

Wren knelt down and channeled his ether through his fingers. He compressed a small clod of dirt, forming a solid stone the size of a tossing ball, its shape smooth. Tossing the stone from hand to hand, Wren tested its weight. He reared back, and threw it full force toward the city. The stone arched through the air, its velocity slowing more and more despite its descent, before it came to a halt, suspended mid-air.
 
A bell echoed in the distance. Its chime, banging every three seconds, was followed by a long and slow hum. It was the only sound in the dining room, drowned in a silverily glow. A family of ten was seated in the long, round table, etched with golden markings.

And as the bell continued to wash over them, they all held their hands joined in prayer. All but one looked like blurry shadows blending in the silvery light. The one, young girl with olive coloured hair.

The tallest figure in the table seperated its palms as soon as the bell’s final chime faded into silence. “Let us be well,” he announced, “today, tomorrow, and beyond.”

In sync, everyone repeated the same prayer and seperated their hands.

Then, this figure, almost as tall as a tower, turned its neck to this one young girl. “You didn’t say it right. Be louder next time, or your prayer won’t be heard.”

Several of the other shadows grew glowing smirks. “She can’t do anything right, father.”

“She is useless!”

“She burned a huge hole in the floor today.”

“Yeah, yeah! And yesterday.”

“Our keeper had to patch it up. But it didn’t look right. It will never look right, he said.”

The young girl’s palm tensed. “No, father. He said—“

“Liar. You’re a liar!”

“A big liar.”

“All of which you say are lies!”

A loud, womanly voice cut through the cacophony. “Silence!” She shouted. “I will hear no more over dinner. Do not disrespect the lord with your quarrels.”

The bright, glowing smirks vanished, replaced with little frowns and yet more silence. Everyone resumed their supper. Everyone but that one little girl.

And the loud woman, the entire time, watched over her silence. Today, tomorrow, and beyond. Day by day, she became thinner and thinner.


The loud woman, with that one little girl by her side, discussed with the heavily robed witch. “You will correct her appetite,” she demanded, “And for that, you will be rewarded handsomely.”

The witch looked at the little girl, casting her long face at the floor. She turned back to the woman slowly shook her head, capped with a pointy hat. “That I cannot do.”

“You will,” shouted the woman. “It is not a request, but a demand. You must realize who I am.”

“And you must realize that it is a matter of practicality, not will. This child is not physically ill.” The witch toned her voice heavily. “The problem exist within her psyche.”



The days and the months rolled. The child, standing before that same tall, shadowy figure, had her body tense and straight. She brought her palms close and formed a ball of twitching fire. The ball grew larger, more deformed, before it imploded and sent the girl flying towards a wall with her back.

Her spine cracked and pain surged through her body as she slid flat on the floor. The burning sun rayed clear through the sky before it became obstructed by that tall shadow’s eyeless glare. In the background, a mixture of laughter followed.

“You are no good,” said the shadow. “You will never be any good even with me training you. You’re cursed with inability. You bring shame to our family.”

The girl’s tears rolled down the scorching pavement. “It hurts. My back hurts.”

The shadow shook its head and turned to someone. “Heal her at once. We will try again then.”

“No, please. No more! No more!” She cried. “I don’t like magic. I like… I like… I like m—“

Before she could finish her sentence, she was kicked in the side by a powerful spell that sent her rolling. “I will hear no more! My daughter must master my own magic style. It cannot be any other way. How else will you pass it to your children otherwise?”



The witch, kneeled before the little girl, ran her hand over her scratched up forehead. Her eyes then narrowed. “She is a hard worker. That is for sure. It is not her problem.”

“What is her problem then?” The loud woman demanded to know. “Her siblings advance rapidly with half the work.”

Without an answer, she stood up and shook her head. “I am not sure.”

“You’re never sure! How dare you name yourself the greatest healer of the country?”

“Calm down. I am not without answers.” She went and removed a hardback from her wall-sized library. It had a cross etched in gold in the center. “This is a record of what I have encountered through the years. If you review it, you will see that it isn’t the first time I have come across this problem.”

“Yes, and? What is your point?”

“It’s a rare syndrome with no name.” The witch looked at the girl, who for the first, time looked at her back with wide eyes. “It cannot be healed, and it cannot be treated. You will hear this no matter where you go. Most aren’t even aware of its existance. It is of unknown origin and of unknown cause. In other words”—she paused—“I am afraid this child will never do magic. She should give up.”

The word give up loudly echoed. The witch faded in darkness, followed by an exchange of screaming that blended in both darkness and silence.



Her siblings then circled her. “You are magicless!” They chanted. “Magicless and powerless. You will die in an alley by yourself one day.”

“That’s right! Power is everything in this world! It’s eat or be eaten, kill or be killed! And you will be killed!”

“You’re prey!”

“Dead meat.”

“A lion without teeth and claws!”

The little girl covered her ears. She drowned them in the void of a darkness she rapidly sank into. Words, various words that she’s heard over the years, then echoed and stabbed her.

Useless.

Powerless.

Helpless.

Lost cause.

Lion without teeth and claws.

Dead meat.

Sick.

Naive.

Stupid.


And everything in between. Her father zoomed into view. “You must grow powerful. How else are you meant to survive in this cruel world? Everytime you fail, and everytime I make you cry over it, remember those words.”

She clamped her ears harder, shut her eyes tighter. “Then I don’t want to live in this world.” She tried to overcome their voices with theirs. “I just want to live in peace. If not, then I’ll just—“



“Olive! Wake up!”

Her dream became shattered by a shout. Ravenna stood before her, drenched in panic. Behind her, lights shifted closer and closer as a group of horses marched forward. “What’s this? What’s happening? I—“

“You fell asleep. They’re coming for us! We must wake Katara.”

Olive narrowed her eyes. Among those horses was one person whom she never wanted to see again: Araspeth.
 
Olive's body froze solid. “That’s not… good.”

Ravenna looked outwards to the approaching laterns. “I know. We must act quickly.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Olive shook her rapidly. “We’re screwed. We’re screwed. We’re not stronger than them. We’re weaker. We’re done. The weak can’t defeath the strong.”

“Don’t say that!” Ravenna pulled her into standing position. “We may not be strong, but we can out smart them. Never say never. Now, quick!” she said, but Olive didn’t move a pinch. Her feet trembled and she started to visibly sweat.

Before anything more could be said or done, a ball of fire sweeped through the cobalt sky. Ravenna rapidly analyzed its trajectory. It was heading straight for them. She grabbed Olive’s arm and pulled her by force. “It’s—“

The ball rapidly accelerated at hyper speeds. It hit the ground near them and exploded into a cloud of fire. Olive and Ravenna were pushed far into the ground from the shockwave. Farther away, Katara woke to the sight of a fireball and approaching horses—now mere meters away.

Araspeth and her crew assessed the scene. She had a large spear in her hand. Olive watched as she locked her eyes at her. The ball of fire burned brightly behind the smirking High Priestess. She wipped her jet-black horse and came forward to Olive, still frozen on the ground.

“Well, well…” she dismounted her horse. “Look at who we have here.”

Olive trembled in silence. She made no reply. In her head, this was the end of the road. Araspth was strong, and she weak. The shadowy figure briefly replaced her.

“The queen wishes to have your head,” she pointed her sharp spear at her. “So I must take it. Any last words, little miss?”

Last words? Olive’s body lost her tension. Her heart beat slowed down and she tilted her head to the side. There were no words to be had. Her life was nothing but a catalogue of bad memories.

But, something did flash in her mind. “Just… just don’t kill my friends. They’re not dangerous.”

Araspeth smiled. “I see how it is. What a good samaritan you’re. I am almost sad to do this to you but it must be done.” She readied her spear, which caught flashy fire. “If there is an afterlife, I hope you find peace. Goodbye.”

Peace. The word calmed her more than anything. The golden coast and the violin flashed through her mind. Is there peace somewhere beyond? Olive closed her eyes.

And then, Araspeth stabbed her.


Olive stood before a golden coast, wrapped in warm sunset colours. The sea waves rolled back and forth, almost reaching her feet. A warm, salty breeze ran through her, and she spread her arms to have more of it.

She lowered them and looked around the blurriness. As usual, only one portition was visible. The rest was buried in the depths of her memories.

A shadow stood behind her, holding a violin. A sea wave washed into the shore, louder than the others, and the shadow spoke. “Are you happy with this?”

Olive speechlessly lowered her head.

The shadow put its hand in her shoulders. “I’ve been watching your dreams. You want to find this place one day. You want to find the real identity behind this shadow.”

She nodded.

“But I am not that someone. You just can’t see my real form.”

The coast disappeared. Darkness envolved them. All of a sudden, a white-winged cat floated in front of her. “I am Yuuna, the spirit of light, and I reveal myself before you.”

Olive stared, then broke the silence. “Are you here to… take me?”

Yuuna shook her head. “That isn’t my job. Long ago, I simply brought light into the world. Since then, I’ve been watching over you humans, fightning and killing each other. It disgusts me. This world is beautiful. There is no reason to stain it.”

“I— I feel the same way!”

“Many have said so. I do not trust you. But there is something enticing about you. That human wasn’t wrong. Perhaps, you are a true follower of peace. You appear to want it more than anything. But—!” Yuuna shouted. “It might be so because you’re weak. Because you’re scared of the strong. If you were strong, would you still desire peace?”

Everything Olive saw, the latest set of memories, rolled over her mind in a single second. “Yes,” she said without hesitation, her face as solid as stone.

“So you say. But I do not trust you. I do not trust humans. Still, I think it’s a shame for you to die.” Yuuna extended her paw. “I will lend you my power. With it, you can escape. Hurry and join hands before I change my mind.”

Olive raised her hand and then stopped. “I-Is it gonna hurt?”

Yuuna stared with her jaw half dropped. “You’re strange. Just do it. A spear hurts a lot more!”

She extended her hand further and a ring of light enveloped both of them. Thus, for the first time in millenia, Yuuna joined with a human.

“There is something about you,” said Yuuna with her eyes closed. “Something in you. You can’t shape magic. You can create it but you can’t shape it. Yes, I clearly see the problem. You will never be able to use magic the way others do. But I will be compensating for that. You’ll use magic. My magic. You will now have control over Ether but you it will be long ways to go. You can’t defeat Araspeth but you can scare her off. Now, listen closely.” Yuuna opened her eyes. “This is what we have to do.”


Araspeth removed her spear from Olive’s heart. She stared at its blood-coated tip. Nobody can survive that. She looked down to Olive’s heart, expecting a pool of blood, only to find that she didn’t even have a scratch. There was only a hole in her clothing.

Then, something glowed brightly in Olive’s forehead. The light faded to reveal a symbol that represented a set of wings. At that exact moment, Araspeth’s smile faded completely and her eyes went wide.

She jumped several meters back and placed herself in a defensive position. Olive opened her eyes as if nothing ever happened and slowly rose back to her feet. Araspeth stabbed the ground with her spear and coated it in aggressive blue fire.

“You—!” She pumped even more Ether to assert her power. It made perfect sense then, the reason her mother seemed to favour her. Everything started to add up. Araspeth removed the spear and pointed at her. “You don’t scare me! I’ll kill you right now!”

Olive brought her palm close to her heart and clenched it. She then extended it slowly, forming a rod of light. Solid light. Araspeth, in all her years, had never seen anyone do that. Even with her advanced knowledge of magic, she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
 
The stone Wren had thrown toward the frozen-in-time city arched in the air, and then, on descent, came to a halt, suspended in mid-air. To his amazement, the stone pulsed once with a beat of amber light. Then, it went dark again. He questioned his eyes, then quickly glanced over his shoulders, to see if he was alone—and he was.

But something was coming, of this, he was sure. The pulse of light was the harbinger.

For it was written in the Scriptures—Timeless light shall free them all.

***

Araspeth’s eyes widened with panic. “Retreat!” she screamed to her courtiers. “Retreat!”

She took a step backward, but could not peel her eyes from the raw power emanating from the strange young woman named Olive, who said not a word. Her magic spoke for her. She aimed her shaft of solid light towards the ground, scorching the earth, and Araspeth gasped. The other two—Katara and Ravenna—came and stood on either side of the extraordinary mage, a little behind, assuming an offensive rather than defensive posture.

Araspeth and her courtiers quickly mounted their horses, and dashed away. The knowledge that Olive could have sliced her into pieces, if she had so desired, chilled Araspeth to the bone.

At a safe distance, they brought their horses to a trot. “What now?” one of her men asked.

“We must discover her weakness,” Araspeth replied. “She cannot win. She has prevailed in this battle, but the war is not over. Our time will come.”

***

The shaft of light dimmed, and Ravenna and Katara, both wide-eyed, turned towards Olive. “You are one to be reckoned with,” Katara murmured, in awe.

Olive furrowed her brow. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“No! Not at all. I am glad to have you on my side.”

Olive held out her hands, and Katara and Ravenna each took one of them. Then, Katara and Ravenna joined their free hands, to complete the circle. Overwhelmed, the three glanced at one another, finding security in the shared touch. They needed to be closer, and their bowed heads met in the middle. Something powerful had happened, and they shared the experience. They had had a glimpse of something bigger than them—forged in the deep currents that run through existence.

Trembling gave way to comfort and easier breathing. “I don’t have all the answers,” Olive whispered.

“We trust you,” Ravenna whispered in turn.

“I am grateful.”

“Whatever you need to do, it must be pretty important, to have the queen after you.”

“I’m beginning to get an idea of that."

“I think—” Katara offered, “—it’s not so much what you have to do, but who you are.”

“I’m beginning to get an idea of that, too.”

“We all want to know who we are.”

“We’ll find out together,” Ravenna said.

“Together.”

“Yes, together.”

Olive’s chest began to rise and fall. “There will be danger.”

“There’s only danger in not knowing,” Katara said. “We must find the whole truth.”

“Yes … the whole truth.”

***

Nalki came down from the tree and stood before Barnabas. With a finger, he pushed aside the sword Barnabas has brandished. “There’s no need to get uppity,” Nalki said.

Barnabas let the tip of the sword fall to the ground. He sighed. “Indeed,” he replied. “It was our own folly to lay our trust in you. We shall correct that error now.”

He beckoned the guards. “Can you get us back on the road to Cliffcross?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Malcolm replied.

Angus added, “You can count on us, sir.”

Barnabas nodded, then pierced Nalki with a glare. “Here’s where we part ways.”

Dusca looked upon this exchange with apprehension. She could not risk having Barnabas get to Katara before her. She preferred to think that Nalki had not got them lost on purpose, but he had led them astray. Surely, he knew how pressing was her need to get to Katara. And it now seemed her best option was to join with Barnabas and his company.

“I’m going with you!” she called to Barnabas.

He turned an unreadable face. “As you will,” he replied.

Hemios grumbled. “Will we ride much more today?”

“We must make up for lost time.”

All the travelers mounted, except for Nalki and Charin. They stood, pictures of dejection. The horses began to move. Barnabas halted his horse and twisted in the saddle, to address them. “You may join us,” he called. “But be aware—we lead.”

They nodded assent, mounted and brought up the rear.

Where the bridle path widened, Dusca pulled up beside Barnabas. “So, science has been good to you?” she asked.

He glanced at her sideways. “Ah,” he remarked, “the cat has no longer got your tongue.”

“What?”

“You’ve not spoken two words to me all day.”

She dropped her eyes. “I’ve not spoken a word to you in twenty-five years.”

“And, has the time been good to you?”

She cast hooded eyes on him. “All I have to say about time, is that, it passes.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Was he making an allusion to his feelings for her? Dusca rejected the assumption. “What do you mean?”

‘There is a way to stop it.”

“You speak in riddles.”

“No, my dear, I speak in science.”

Dusca pursed her lips. “Ah yes,” she hummed, with a sarcastic eyeroll, “your first love. But you and I both know that what you do you do for your own ambition, and to please the queen.”

He glanced at her. “The queen affords me opportunity, but I am my own man.”

She laughed. “No one in service to the queen is their own man.”

A satisfaction warmed Dusca, that her admonition should leave Barnabas speechless.

***

The three women, ragged by now, walked the shaded bank of the River of Beginnings. Out of the blue, Olive said, “With power comes great responsibility.”

Katara and Ravenna turned sympathetic faces to her. They did not say anything, but waited for her to complete her thought. Olive, her eyes full of uncertainty, glanced at each of them, then went on, “How will I know if I am doing the right thing?”

“You’ll know,” Ravenna quickly replied. “You’ll just know.”

“Besides,” Katara popped her brows, “it’s not about getting it right. It’s about finding something. We’re on a journey of discovery, not a test.”

They came to a dock with a solitary ferry tied there. A plain wooden vessel with low sides, the boat was large enough to accommodate them and the horses. Katara negotiated a price for the crossing with the ferryman, a white-haired, skeletal poet with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m Cornelius,” he said. “I will see you across the river, without a shiver, without a quiver.”

Nova and Pippin reared their heads as Cornelius led them in, and then he took the hand of each woman in turn, as he helped them step into the ferry. First Katara, then Ravenna, and Olive was last. He happened to look at her face for the first time. He recoiled, then dropped down on a knee, and lifted a reverent face. “You are she,” he whispered. “A prophecy fulfilled.”

The girls glanced at one another, question in their eyes. Olive, blinking with confusion, said, “Get up! What are you doing?”

“The mark—the mark upon your forehead—the winged one—”

Olive touched her fingertips to her forehead.

“—as it is written in the Scriptures.”

***

The river crossing was silent. On the other side, Katara offered coin to the ferryman, but he refused it. “I’ll not take money from the bearer of the Angel Mark,” he said.
 
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Once the horses had been led off the ferry, the women mounted and began down the nearest road toward Chesli Town. As they rode, Ravenna decided it was time to share what had been on her mind since the ferryman had recognized Olive.

“We need to blend in, not hide, but blend in.”

“How would we do that?” Olive asked.

“Well,” Ravenna smiled and glanced at Katara who eyed her with suspicion.

“What do you want, Ravenna?”

“You’re a Poet, right? You know how to sing?”

“Of course I do!” Katara said, demonstrating a smooth, rich singing voice with a scale of notes. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Ravenna continued, strangely joyful. Which made both her companions rather wary as she was usually far more reserved, if not sullen. “From now on, we are just traveling musicians. Three sisters who lost their parents in the northern mountains.”

“And?” Katara’s voice was uncertain.

“We are traveling on a pilgrimage on visit our parents graves. We promised we would honor them by returning every year,” Ravenna said. “And to pull this off, we need new clothes, which I am sure we can find. Also, a few instruments. I know a little bit about the lyre. Do you know any instruments, Olive?”

“I don’t—“ The woman’s eyes changed to a glowing warm white and the voice of Yuuna spoke through her host. “I brought music to this world in the ages past. I can play whatever instrument is given to me.”

“Good,” Ravenna said, not at all flustered by the sudden possession. A moment later, Olive returned. Her eyes changing back to their usual color.

“That…was strange,” she said and Ravenna continued on.

“We also need new names. We can’t use the ones we have now,” she said and Katara immediate chose the name, Rosa. Then, assigned Olive the name of Clara.

“And you,” she said to Ravenna, “can be Lily!”

“I would rather not,” the other said, making Katara frown.

“Why not? It’s a perfect—“

“It was my sister’s name. I don’t… want to remember her.” She knew her words were a lie. Ravenna never wanted to forget Lily or Rowan. Especially Rowan. Her twin brother who was hopefully resting more peacefully than she.

Katara was silent a moment before asking, “why don’t you want to remember your own sister?”

“…because I don’t want to believe she is suffering.” It was easier to pretend her family didn’t exist, than it was to face the pain of the past and present. “I… think I want to be called ‘Bella’. It has an ‘A’ at the end and sounds cute with the other names.”

“Okay,” Katara relented and the group fell silent until she said, “we need to come up with songs. We can’t pretend to be traveling musicians if we don’t have any songs! I say we come up with at least six.”

“Can you do that?” Olive asked and Katara nodded.

“It’s easy. Just give me a few hours and I can have some simple songs ready.”

“I am sure Yuuna could help, too,” Olive offered and Katara shook her head.

“I want these to be mine, got it? Not some fancy spirit’s.” She brought her horse to a stop to grab the small notebook out of the saddlebag. Then, Ravenna moved to ride with her and they set off again. Over the the next three hours, Katara wrote lyrics and basic melodies. As they rode along, she tested out a few, which Olive and Ravenna found to be enjoyable.

“She wasn’t lying,” Ravenna muttered to Olive once they stopped to let the horses rest. “She can sing. Like, really sing.”

“And best of all, she sounds nice,” Olive added with a smile.

A few hours later, the three stopped in Chasli Town where Ravenna went into a shop to buy some clothes. She was the least memorable of the three and was skilled at blending in. Not to mention most would not pay attention to a grungy tavern maid. For a few silvers, Ravenna picked out a rose-colored dress for Katara and a yellow one for Olive and green for herself. They were all similar in style, but she figured musical sisters would want to be somewhat matching. Then, some new shoes and a hair pin for each one of them to complete the look.

Following, Ravenna reserved a room at the town inn. There, the three bathed and changed into their disguises.

“What do you think, Bella?” Katara asked as she showed off her new look to Ravenna. “I hate the ruffles on the bodice, but like you said, I am an actor!”

“Yes,” Ravenna was grateful she had been able to convince Katara merely acting a part. It made all these changes easier for her to follow. “I think it looks, good Rosa.”

“Why, thank you, Bella,” Katara said and Ravenna sighed. Her earlier request that they start using their fake names was clearly being misunderstood. They didn’t need to use the new names all the time, but she didn’t want to get in an argument; so Ravenna let it be.

“I don’t think yellow suits me,” Olive said as she entered the small room they had rented for a silver. “Can I have your green dress?”

“Nope.” Ravenna said.

“Wh-why not?”

“Because Olive is another word for green. I want to confuse everyone and it’s better to not wear colors associated with names or previously
known outfits. I agree though, yellow is not as flattering as blue. But I think it will throw off a lot of people looking for a mage in blue robes. Now, do we want to figure out what to do with our hair?”

“I’m not cutting mine,” Katara immediately said and Olive agreed with her.

“Fine, then you two can cut mine. I just want us to look as different as possible. Katara though, you need to braid yours. Olive, wear it in a bun.”

“Uh, okay,” Olive nodded and Ravenna smiled. It was all going so well. But that didn’t mean something could go wrong. Once their outfits and hair were changed, Ravenna went out to buy a few instruments. Two exactly. Katara needed to focus on her singing, so did not need one. Olive could play anything, so Ravenna chose a flute. It paired nicely with the lyre she bought. When the man asked why she wanted an instrument worth a whole gold coin, Ravenna began to cry. She told him her lyre had been stolen on their trip north and she needed a replacement.

Then, she invited the man to visit the tavern for a performance as she and her sisters would be in town for a few days. When she returned to the inn, Ravenna handed Olive the flute and asked Katara if she had the songs ready.

“Yes,” she said happily, “and you’re gonna love them! I wrote about all the wildlife we saw on our trip and—“

“It’s going to be a song about beavers, isn’t it?” Ravenna asked and Katara nodded.

“It is and you’re going to sing it if you like it or not! Now, let’s get practicing.”
 
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