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Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

Dazi snickered. “Oh, I can certainly choose boredom. However, it would seem my Lady doesn’t believe in boredom. One would think a nice hot bath at an Inn at the far edge of the mainland would be boredom enough. But no — I met a Wolfess who, by the compassion and mercy of my sister and her Lady, is now a sister in arms.

“I do have a theory regarding Dayala and boredom, but there are few who would appreciate, especially in my Order.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled at his teasing. “Our Temples do seem to be everywhere we go, but you’re in luck. You’ve been to the two that were abandoned — Port of Lys at the end of the First Age and this one, the Temple on the Border, at the end of the Second Age. The third is in Dawnview Vale. Line them all up, and I sussed out the location of Starwatch Reaches, our first Keep. Or, as that lunatic minstrel friend of Koromov called it, the Dall Gwynn.”

It was impossible to tell if she was joking, if she was suggesting that the greatest Adventure of the past generation was within their grasp, or if she was merely teasing him in return. Her “court composure” was inscrutable.

Her impassive nature morphed to a sad smile after a moment as she regarded the Temple ruins. “It’s not as much justice I seek — I’ll leave that to the Hasturs — but righting wrongs, perhaps restoring balance to the world and to Time. And yes, all of us accepted the risk last year, and several of us came too close to joining Celi. I know I would not be standing here tonight if not for Morning Star... and Linette... the Thing... and all of you who joined me in my mad quest to right that particular wrong.”

She smiled wryly. “And returning the Temple to its rightful condition is not only something I want to do for my Order’s sake and to provide a place for my Sisters to rest in their journeys outside the Vale but for Lady Kay, too.” She gave Cesare a mischievous side glance. “I promised her the use of the well. But a properly restored Temple would have room for a proper hospice for her. Who am I to gainsay an Atteran a place in our Temple? I doubt there’s a Wild Dayalan who could put forth an argument against a hospice. Of course, the High Priestess might disagree with me, but...”

The Dayalan shrugged and snorted. “I’m more terrified of Kassia, and I don’t think my teacher and foster mother would find reasons to object. Besides...” She nodded in Kisa’s direction. “Our Order exists to this day because of the support of the Noble Family Allaine. And I feel quite confident that our new Khorall is far more stubborn than her Aunt, the High Priestess.”

She left him time to respond, of course, before agreeing with his final statement.

“Being true to ourselves is the most balanced thing one can do, I suspect. You Rhoni folks don’t have a corner on that market,” she added with a laugh. “Though I have learned a bit about balance from you, my friend.

“And now, I believe it’s time for me to... ahem, request a dance with the Koromov. Surely, she must have learned some other sort of dancing in the Trundle Alley beside the licentious display she graced us with earlier!”


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Cesare

"So I still have a keep to go?"

He winks.

"Though, in honesty, liberating this temple and freeing those two souls I count as probably the best thing I ever did in my life. And it has kind of lit a fire inside me in a way I can't explain.. but I do hold you responsible."

He raises an eyebrow and wags a finger in her direction, maybe another tease..

"And a hospice here would seem a fitting end to that chapter."

He smiles.

"Been really good to talk to you. I've missed you, you know. And good luck in =that= dance."

He laughs as he takes his leave. Maybe time to find another dance partner? Or a drink? Somehow the future seems brighter now.

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Lyric, on the question of what to do. Oh, what to do?

What was tree-Girl telling her to do? And why was she still calling her Tree-Girl. She knew her name, but she understood the power of a Name. She understood the Magic of a Name. A True Name. And that was sort of the point Tree-Girl was making, wasn't it. The Truth.

But it was more complicated than just the perspective of a mischief maker such as she. Her world had rules, that she chose to ignore at whim and portfolio. That was who she was and what she was. But Lyric's world was a world of Rules and Oaths and Fealties, All the things that replace family and friends and camaraderie when time ceases to matter to a people who are lost to the World.

But Tree-Girl had a valid point with regard to the serious attitude she hadn't even realized she had slipped from the point that young Blue first delivered the 'dire' message from Dominic. Lyric had lost the whimsy under the weight of some self-imposed duty that might not even be hers to carry, especially now that it seemed the Dayalan Warrior was reunited with her former travelling companions.

Lyric nodded, and forcibly and visibly relaxed herself, and smiled as her dancing partner. The music was waning as the song was ending. The dance was ending as well.

"Your words carry value for me. I believe I understand them, and the point you are trying to make. I must reconcile them with the words of my... Mistress. I believe that was the term you used. She saved me from terrible fate at the hands and judgment of my people. Death became Exile. Then she gave me chance at a life with meaning and purpose... Something that I have not had in a very long time, Mistress of Mischief. My Oaths are to her as is the way of my kind, the only way I know. But I have heard you."

When the music ended, Lyric stepped back, releasing Tree-Girl's hands, and bowed in respect.

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The Heartwood
Bordertown
Dragonstooth Inn
Midwinter's Day


Bekkah, Cesare, Daxia, Keiko, Lyric, and Tomomi

The next morning came far too early and probably too loudly for some. At some point, they had all made it back to their respective rooms.

The night seemed like a dream, a very good dream.

Daxia and the Koromov had their dance, which was less exciting and more amusing as Dandelion stated quite firmly that no new traditions would be created that night. That was probably a good thing as Daxia was Kisa's Knight and Dandelion was the Captain of Kisa's actual military force, and that would be more than a little strange and awkward.

Later they were all treated to what an actual mousing looked like, albeit a small one, when a plastered Broke convinced a tipsy Koromov to call out that single syllable.

"Oi. I have two mice on my tummy."

"Ja."

"Cute."

"Ja."

"And you came from a Home full of Mice?"

"Ja."

"I want to mouse my older sister."

There wasn't as much a saying of goodbyes as a fading away, quiet, uneventful and in its own way comforting as it just didn't end. Like any good dream.

Then, eventually, it was a Midwinter's morning and breakfast for Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Daxia, and Keiko.

In some ways, Midwinter's was almost anti-climatic. It was a fine festival and, of course, gifts were exchanged. Keiko woke up to find a set of paints in their little crockery pots, all exotic colors such as purple, a metallic gold, and a blue that looked like it was full of lightning. Everyone else got ribbons with scalloped trim, even a black unicorn — although his looked a mite rushed. However, it was the thought that counted, ja?

A Knight received a leather-bound book in an oilcloth case, with latches and seals to keep it safe and dry. It was the perfect size to fit in a saddlebag, and all the pages were blank and waiting to be filled.

Lyric found she didn't have to pay for a thing that whole day, but she wasn't quite sure if that was because she was a minstrel or that Dominic left word with Family Marrennen. A small village Minstrel in a holiday market. Oh. My.

Fine. So Cesare didn't get just a ribbon. He got a scarf and a sturdy leather pouch for putting things in. Of course, when handed over by Tomomi, the scarf was in the pouch.

"It's from the sisters. Though I have never really understood that. How can they be sisters if one is a Mouse and the other is a Raccoon?"

As for the Lady Bekkah, she had a box delivered — by the Dragonstooth's master. Now in truth, it wasn't something she didn't already have. It was also not as fancy or as elegant as the one she already possessed. It was a simple gold cross pendant hung from a sturdy length of leather. It certainly lacked the artistry of a goldsmith, like the gift she’d had made for her apprentice. It did, however, have the honest ruggedness of something crafted by a blacksmith.

Elsewhere

"Trust me, Blue-Eyes."

And the white-haired lass did, letting the rough-around-the-edges once-upon-a-time farm girl slip her fingers through silken locks. The Dayalan was a bit clumsy, as she hadn't done this in years, in centuries, and it was hard. It was hard because it dredged up a memory so successfully buried of a Midwinter's in blood-soaked fields between the Mountains and the Silk Creek, when all she had to share was a scrap of cloth sliced from her own surcoat. When she was done, the newest Atteran Priestess leaned forward to see her reflection in the well, the still water as perfect as if it were a polished mirror.

"Pony tails! Hee!"

What truly made the Easterner smile, however, was the gifted ribbon of black and silver tied in an awkward bow.

When she stood up, Romana was surrounded by a gaggle of the poor ring's children, and they laughed and proclaimed her the prettiest Monster-Lady in all the world.

Kay watched and grinned, leaning on her spear, which now bore two ribbons — one white and one the softest shade of blue.

She believed, in the deepest and most secret place in her heart, that Lily-kins would approve.


The Dragonstooth Inn

For the moment they had the table in the commons to themselves, a brief respite from the day's celebrations. Keiko and Kisa sat across from each other. In truth, they were watching each other, as this was something that had not been done in at least a generation — an heir of Dawnview Keep partaking in a reading of the Rhoni Cards. The question at hand was a simple one:

What are the ebbs and flows of the currents north of here?

Or to be a bit less apocryphal, what fortunes awaited them if they followed the roads through Cragside and the Highgaard passes? The problem was that the Cards did not like being used to tell fortunes directly, so one had to be very careful how one's queries were phrased. Three cards were laid out.

The One of Stars reversed. Fog. And last, Crown of Ice also reversed.

She listened to the Rhoni's explanation, and when Keiko had finished, Kisa bit her lip and nodded.

"So we should take the Satin River Road."

It was not a question, but a conclusion, one to which her Knight nodded in agreement.

In some ways, the old trail that ran around the southern edge of the Forest of Roth was an intriguing solution. It was out of the way and relatively lightly traveled. But that was because of its proximity to the woods and the fact that almost no one lived there. It was the far borders of Amber and Corliss and thus mostly empty.

Kisa then looked up, and the little group got their first glimpse at what was meant by a Window and Watcher — an old term used to denote a combination of Rhoni and Allaine gifts.

"Everyone's eyes are on Brockman's Holdfast. The tension is on that border, to keep the Montagues on their side of Dag Brockman's lands. It has been half a year. If you were Montagues, which way would you look? It's obvious. You would not send your volatile and dangerous Warlord west; creating an incident there would bring the wrath of Talantal's knights. You'd send him east: Brementown, Cragside, the Road East.

"And that warlord also knows you, Daxia, the Scamp's Master, will be bringing me home."

And thus the southern route to Dawnview Vale was selected.


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Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]
and
Keiko khal’Nakano Hoshiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet? Nope, not yet...]

Their dance had not been as interesting or as amusing as Dandelion had seemed to think it was at the time.

“Do you know any proper dances?” the Starlord had inquired of the Starrider. “Or is that sexy dance the only sort of thing anyone does in Trundle?”

“NO NEW TRADITIONS!” had been the Koromov’s insistent reply.

"Hey, I'm not the trend-setter here,” Daxia pointed out. “For that, you need to talk to our Sister the Furball over there.”

The dancing itself had been energetic, but an energetic country dance that maintained propriety and left Dazi grinning.

“You sure you don’t want me to lick your face?” she asked.

YURISDOTTER!

The younger Dayalan laughed herself back to Kisa’s side and slipped an arm around the Heir’s waist.

And before the night’s festivities ended and the guests drifted off to their respective places to lay their heads, Dazi took the opportunity to bid Tree Girl a good night, gracing her with a curtsey worthy of a Noble Court after whispering in her ear.

# # #

The morning dawned bright and clear and beautiful. The Dayalans — Priestess and Heir — greeted the morning from the flat roof of the Inn, as had been their habit since arriving. They discovered the ribbons on their door handle when they returned to their room — black and white for Kisa, black and silver for Daxia.

“She’s a treasure,” Dazi remarked as she wove the ribbon into a section of Kisa’s long hair, tying off the braid just below the shoulder and letting the rest of the section hang free with of her hair. “Do you think Keiko warned her how popular she’d be in Dawnview? Well, you know what? If she didn’t, then Tomomi is in for a wonderful surprise!”

Then she tested the length of her own hair and nodded. Of course, she tied her hair back with the leather cord she used when she hadn’t hacked it short again. Then she made a large, festive bow at the nape of her neck with the black and silver ribbon.

“And if you call me ‘adorable,’ Mistress Kisa, I shall remove it immediately,” Dazi said with a grin. Then she twirled and reached into her saddlebag in the corner of the room, pulling out a small, light — nearly insubstantial, in fact — box painted with a black and red checkerboard and held it in her palm for Kisa.

When the Heir opened the box, she found an intricately folded piece of fabric that had been soaked in glue to hold its shape. It was iridescent, or possibly opalescent, depending on the light hitting it.

“The old woman who sat in the Rhoni’s booth this week convinced me that I needed it, said I should ask the young Card Reader about its story. And that was before Keiko showed up with Bekkah and Cesare!” She smiled at her beloved. “What else does one give the Heir who has everything but something small and very pretty with what must surely be an interesting story attached to it?”

Both her eyes and her smile were side as the Rhoni lass looked at the little pots of paints. “Oooh, Tomomi, these are so beautiful!” She hugged her Forever Friend tightly, or at least as tightly as she dared given the Mouse’s slight frame. Then she drew a card from one of her pouches. It was slightly larger than the Cards of her deck but of a similar type of pasteboard. On it, she had painted the Trees of Home — every hue and shade of green in her collection, some brown, and a touch of black for the shadows. Over the yellow lights of the windows, she’d sprinkled minute amounts of the precious mica dust she had been saving. Keiko had made the Dirkwood Forest and Home look magical and downright beautiful.

“I hope you like it,” she said shyly.

Dazi’s blue eyes seemed even brighter as she held the book in her hands. “Kisa... this is...” She shook her head. “Okay, I won’t say it’s too much or too nice, even though it is.”

She sat quietly for a handful of breaths, just looking at the book, its binding, the leather, the oh so lovely pages that seemed to call out for words to be penned there. Then she smiled as she looked up at Kisa again.

“Do remember all those journals in Brother Lew’s library? I’m going to write one for your library! I’ll fill it with stories of my adventures — the true stories, Kisa, not the fancified and watered down sorts of things the minstrels write. A gift from you to me will become a gift from me to your daughters, to our Sisters who serve our Lady, to the future. I like that idea very much. It makes this book perfect.”

# # #

The Knight watched with intense interest as Keiko laid out her Cards. First, there had been the Asking of the Question, something she understood to be an exacting thing. She thought back to something Romana had said when they first met...

Quote
Witches and Windows... World is change, always changing, always new, always interesting, like trying to nail down wind, world refuses, going which way and that, world is unicorn whites. Window... Window is special girls, who can open Window, see the tides and currents that push and pull lives... Rhonifolks blood. Witch... Witch interprets what Windows see. Witches are scary... Witches weave through Chaos.

Is that what she was doing out here in the world? Weaving through Chaos? She mentally shrugged. Did it matter what other people called it?

Dazi left the formation of the question to Kisa for she had been trained by both Kassia and Linnell. For all her shyness and bookish ways, the Heir did have a way with words. Message tiles? Not so much, except for their value as mementos and pieces of art. Ah, and a reminder of how Kisa felt about her.

It was the art of the cards that captured Daxia’s attention. They were exquisite!

“You painted these?” She recalled her early acquaintance with Camelia and her diligent work on her deck. Dazi wasn’t sure that Keiko’s cards could have been more different from the ones she’d seen Cami painting.

“Oh, yes. Of course. It’s...” The Rhoni hesitated, not sure how much she should share with the Gaija warrior. Finally, she merely said, “It’s the custom.”

“Ah.” The young woman’s hesitation more than her words told the Dayalan that this was a Rhoni secret and that it would be an insult to pry further.

The Card Reader looked at her Cards for such a long time that it might seem that she was not going to give an indication about their meaning. The Allaine’s question had been well-formed, and the answer was quite clear. The only problem, at least in Keiko’s mind, was that unpleasant responses were traditionally not shared on Festival days. But it was an Allaine asking...

“This tells me,” Keiko finally said, pointing to the first Card — a single star on a field of blue set in the reversed orientation — “that there are plans in the making and that they may not be in your best interests. This,” she said, pointing to the middle card that depicted only a shaded circle of gray within its border, “says that these are hidden plans, that they are important, and that they are becoming malevolent. It is an affirmation that what is hidden is not in your best interest. Finally...”

She looked at the two redheads. Then she said what every Card Reader was taught to avoid saying at Festival times: “Things will likely come to a violent end.”

The corner of Daxia’s mouth quirked up as she glanced at Kisa, nodding slightly as the Heir made her decision.

The Satin River Road. It was obvious.

She nodded again at Kisa’s explanation of her conclusion. “Add to that volatile mixture a year-long dead Velikii who may or may not have brothers, cousins, or loyal retainers set on extracting their version of justice from those of use who interfered with whatever plans the man might have had.”

“Velikii?” Keiko nearly squeaked.

“Da.”

After glancing at her Cards, the Rhoni regarded the Daylan soberly and muttered, “And I thought *I* had a good reason to stay out of Trundle.”

“I’m so glad we can agree on that!” She smiled wryly at Kisa. “I will have to, once again, regretfully decline the Captain’s generous and possibly nefarious offer to introduce me to her elder sister. As long as I can see the Patterns and Paths that end with a sword in my side, and as long as a Rhoni proskavada agrees with me, none of you are talking me into going to Trundle!”

Keiko furrowed her brow and stared at Daxia. “Proskavada?” she murmured as she gathered her Cards back into her deck. It sounded... familiar and yet alien.

“Oh. It’s Ancient. I’m not sure how to get to... the language you share with Bekkah’s apprentice. Romana has a fairly good grasp on Ancient.” She tilted her head to the side. “What would the folks to the far northeast call you... what you do here?” she asked, gesturing to the cards.

Keiko snorted. “Besides something rude? Well, I guess that’s not fair. That’s a recent affectation of theirs. But beshkhashkhatel roughly translates to ‘one who speaks reality.’” Then the Rhoni shrugged her shoulders. “They don’t always like a reality they don’t create themselves. But my Elders say that is just as true across the Tarn, from Nobles to commoners.”

Dazi nodded. “Proskavada means ‘truth speaker’ or close enough as one can get in Colonial.” She looked around at the others.

“Shall we leave after breakfast tomorrow, then?”


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Cesare

He had enjoyed the wedding celebrations. And was not the worse for wear from them either. This was mainly due to favouring dancing over drink and apart from slightly sore calves this morning, his body felt a lot better for it. He danced almost until he had dropped, even asking Broke for a dance. That might have been brave.. or foolish.. but in some ways the Forest Kin were becoming family to him and held a special place in his heart. And he is becoming acquainted with his heritage too, learning that the Rhoni were in essence a large extended family and so this Midwinters he feel somewhat less isolated or alone. Plus after that long conversation with Daxia, he also has a much clearer idea of where he wants to be and what he wants to be doing.

And that involved his travelling companions, at least for now.

He decided that it would be nice to show his affection for them all and that maybe a Midwinter's gift would be a way to do that. Nothing too fancy that would embarrass but something small and thoughtful maybe.

And so he had small gifts for each of them. For Bekkah he had a small wooden brooch carved in the shape of a fox, a reminder for her of the Forest Kin she had rescued. For Lyric, a small pot of cinnamon spice to sprinkle on food, that could not help but remind him of Romana, For Keiko, a small wooden caraven to remind her of home. For Tomomi, some small sequins that might be incorporated into her designs. And for Daxia, a hankerchief embroidered with two small stars, something that had a special significance for them both.

And he sent his wishes into the aether to Romana, to Mikal, to Darian and Longtooth hoping that wherever they were that they were having a good Midwinters and that they might meet up again someday. And he spared a thought for those he knew he would not meet again, at least in this life.. his mother, father, Kadri, amongst others.

Then it is time to take his gifts to breakfast. He is delighted to receive his pouch, which he added to his belt, and even more so the scarf inside which he immediately put on.

"It takes more than a blood or kin relationship to be sister or brother. It is a thing of the heart. And here are my gifts to you."

And he hands out the gifts all wrapped in soft cloth.

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Bekkah

Her own gift to those around her didn't come until the early morning as She rose. She simply asked her Lady to look after those she'd come to know and love. She asked that they'd always find light, even in the darkest of places and times.

Her silent prayers came as she touched the new symbol around her neck with one hand. It had replaced the one she'd worn for years. The rough feel of it bringing a smile to her pretty face.

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Lyric, fascinated by the Cards.

A Crown of Ice...

Just to hear those words was unsettling to Lyric. Every card had a meaning, and to the Reader it also mattered the orientation and the position in the presentation. Lyric watched with wide eyes, darting left and right, intent upon the cards and the faces of the Rhoni and the Noble. Their separate but seemingly related gifts were working together. To Lyric none of the cards told her what they saw, they were cards. But she respected the Gifts at play because Magic was real. Magic was a weave that ran through the fabric of the world, Those who could touch these threads gained some sense of gifting. Those that could sense these threads of Magic gained some sense of understanding, a means to step back and view the larger tapestry, to see how their thread touched another thread, or how someone else's thread was woven into a pattern of threads that might reveal future events.

To Lyric, the lat card had meaning. It was not a thread of magic she saw in a pattern. It was experience. A Princess and a Prince. It meant nothing though, right. She was not a reader... How was it said, She was neither a Witch nor a Window.

Lyric was Lyric was Lyric. That was how Keiko said it.


Earlier in the day...

There were Gifts on this day. Lyric was unaware of such a custom. A kindness shared, as much a token of appreciation as it was of love. This was alien to her but enchanting. In fact, she seemed bewildered. It was a feeling of release for the Minstrel though. Today had been tomorrow last night, and it was inevitable this moment would come. Each tomorrow becomes today eventually. You can't stop it, you can't even delay it. It just is. A means to measure and recognize that life is precious and must be lived in the moment but with a fondness for things that came before and hope for things yet to come.

Sinnomon spice... to sprinkle... or just to wet a finger and dip it into the pot and then directly to her tongue. Oh, what an intense feeling to taste it in it's purest. She loved the sensations, the shiver, the escape of breath, the moan of delight... the sigh.

The freedom to buy anything she wanted but not the inclination to do anything more than simply try a few new things. She had no need to 'buy' things. She already owned what she needed. Maybe a want or two.

And a pretty ribbon that the Minstrel ran through her fingers, over and under and over, weaving them as she pulled one end along, feeling the texture and sensation. It was a token of Tomomi in the sharing off something she contributed to the betterment of the world around her. A gifting of herself to everyone whose life she touched.

To each of her companions she would offer a flower. A simple gift, picked by her from a place close by. More of a thankyou than a real gift. Her gratitude was the only gift she felt meant the most from her heart to her friends. For accepting her, for caring for her, for including her in their world.

The Midwinter's day was a blessing, and maybe the Light in the Darkness she was Gifted unbehnownst to her, was revealed in how the troubles she was carrying seemed to fade away for a time.

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