Kingsley Family/Erik/Home

Kingsley

Erik sulked at the Lavraz Shrine. The statue of the Highfather still had the graffiti on it since the last time he visited. Leaned up against a bench he scooped pebbles off the dirty smoothestone floor of the outdoor shrine and flicked them carelessly at the vandalized statue.

Realm's falling apart, Amélie is who knows where, hopefully safe. Sigh.

Erik sighed. He just wanted everyone to be able to get along with one another and to do the right thing. As he sulked he heard a thudding behind him and looked around. More bandits!?

He jolted around to see not a bandit, but an unusual sight. The man before him was about as big as Mute Dave had been, but on his shoulders was a small woman, slight with a long gray-speckled braid

"Lord Erik, I presume?" She called out to him from atop the burly man.

"Uh..." he bumbled. "He's here. I mean, of course I know him. He's me." He paused for a second. "Were you here to rescue me?"

Everlight

"Lord Erik, I presume?" She called out to him from atop the burly man.

"Uh..." he bumbled. "He's here. I mean, of course I know him. He's me." He paused for a second. "Were you here to rescue me?"

Fey squinted down at the dejected young man slouched upon the Lavraz shrine's bench. He peered right back with tired eyes.

Rescue?

Oh. Right.

She straightened and glanced about, disappointment renewed. They had departed the capital hoping to gain target practice now that the Nightfall were better rehearsed. Another knight had beaten them to Lavraz by a full day, leaving not a single live monster for them to practice on. They had put some heads on pikes and had fun running around with those until one of the soldiers got hit...

"Ah, well... y'don't seem to need much rescuing at this point, young Viscount... Do you? We'd hoped t'find monster types fer target practice. Guess now this is a diplomatic visit."

She tapped the bald head of her mount, and the burly fellow lifted the wiry old woman to the ground in one smooth move. Returned to her normal stature, she brushed at her wrinkled tunic as she approached the shrine with confident, short strides that belied her age. Years of habit led her eyes to reading the young Lord's body language without a conscious thought as she approached, gathering information. She bowed crisply and spoke, courtly accent now apparent.

"Well met. I am known as Dame Fey Twix Everlight, former Grand Justiciar of the lost realm of Melhed, and even longer ago, baby knight of the realm of Lukon. Pleased to meet you."

Kingsley

Erik was quiet as he and the little lady rode through the forest on the way to Portion City. The place still gave him the creeps though he had travelled through there a dozen times. In the distance an owl hooting startled him, as he pulled Dancer's reins slightly towards the big bald man who travelled with the the lady Fey Twix, in the hopes of perhaps a little more protection. Fey hadn't said much either, but Erik liked the company at least. He'd been alone a lot recently since Amélie vanished, and it was nice to have someone around.

Despite the spooky noises echoing throughout Corali Forest, Erik decided to try and take his mind off of it, pulling his notebook out from the saddle bag of his old horse and beginning to scribble a poem to help him relax.

As I walk the dark roads weary and lost I hold tight to my love in hopes that she may one day...

The young priest chewed his lip as he tried very hard to think of a suitable word that also rhymed with love. This is dumb. He thought to himself. His father was right, he was once again a failure. Amélie left, then his knight, and all his friends were leaving one by one. Suddenly he didn't feel like writing poetry, and stuffed the notebook back into its bag. Erik remained with his thoughts glancing over at the little woman by him who seemed to be lost with her own. Suddenly Erik had a thought. He missed his friends, and he didn't need the old man breathing down his neck anyway. He was the one that had sent him away to Wetham in the first place. Why should Erik have to mope around in Portion, when he could mope around somewhere else. Maybe he could even find where Amélie went.

"Hey Fey? Err. Lady Fey? Is it Lady Fey, I can never remember who's what. Anyway. I was just thinking. What if we... just... didn't go back to Portion City. We could just like... keep going. Is that crazy? Probably crazy. Forget I said anything. I'll probably forget I said anything pretty soon anyway."

Everlight

Corali Forest was uniquely beautiful as it always had been. Fey remembered riding the shaded paths with relief after campaigning through Outer Tilog, many years before. Starkly twisted branches of charcoal-grey bark shot through with a myriad of strange colours reached graceful fingers out over the path they rode in silence.

There was still no sign of the Family Twix anywhere, though... Fey had now been end to end of the realm, from Portion to Lukon and back, along both sides of the river, and found nothing. It was as though her family had never existed. She looked down at her gnarled hands on the saddle horn, so much like her mother's now, and wondered where she could be. If she was even still alive, or if long years had finally taken her.

"Hey Fey? Err. Lady Fey? Is it Lady Fey, I can never remember who's what. Anyway. I was just thinking. What if we... just... didn't go back to Portion City. We could just like... keep going. Is that crazy? Probably crazy. Forget I said anything. I'll probably forget I said anything pretty soon anyway."

The young priest seemed edgy, frustrated. Desperate? Lord Lavraz was an unusual one. Fey turned kind eyes to him as he trailed off, his gaze meeting hers then dropping down and away.

"Call me Fey."

She considered for a long moment, letting the silence stretch between them. Maybe the Twixes had moved? Rowan's ill health would have appreciated a warmer clime. The search would not be not over until she had her answer. Erik's question took on an interesting prospect.

"What if we do keep riding, Viscount Erik? Where do you suppose we ought to go? I'd have to leave the Nightfall stationed somewhere, but I think dear Cynbel here would come along," she mused warmly, and leaned over in her saddle to pat the burly man on his broad, bald head.

"And... not to put too fine a point on my years, but... I have found from experience that the voice that sounds crazy in my head is the one that's going to lead in the best direction. It only sounds crazy because you don't understand why, yet."