11-21-2022, 05:44 AM
Six nights had come and gone. The Eyes saw, as they always did – although each time it had been the same vision. Rowan’s earlier assumption had proven wrong. The land in the vision seemed to be one lost to time. Industry and the unmistakable mark of humanity had guaranteed that. With no landmarks for reference, Rowan had been unable to distinguish just how far west or north the bird had carried them. There would be no other way forward but to visit the seven forests and see if any more monsters jumped out at them.
Armande had been uncharacteristically withdrawn. He had barely touched either Vale or her since the initial vision. A pain seized her heart with every denied advance on her part. The only thing he seemed to care about was the vision – and rightfully so. This was no pleasure trip they had taken.
Rowan had tried to illicit new results before opening her Eye. She had called to the Loa, entered into drunken stupors, laid out spreads of tarot and crystals; but nothing seemed to make a difference. Each time it was the same. Frustration began to creep up on her and an edge had sharpened her voice on more than one occasion. The first key had been too easy to find. How long would it take to find this next one? Would the others take even longer than the second?
It was hard not to get discouraged.
The Holy Father had only arrived earlier that day, and so Rowan found herself praying to the Loa that he was the missing ingredient in their struggle to find a more straightforward path. He would not be sharing the suite with them, of course. The man still had to keep up appearances. It all would have been so much easier if he was not a man of such high profile. Rowan had been deflated when he had departed their little rag-tag group of anti-heroes.
Rowan was curled up in an over-stuffed leather chair, pouring over a story of the Norns when the door to the suite opened to admit Armande. Stray snowflakes fell from his hair and down to the carpet as he looked from Vale to Rowan. She offered him a warm smile and slid the heavy book down onto the side table on her right. She opened herself to the Light and wove a delicate flow of Air, splitting it into three and directing it to the wet bar near the window. Unseen hands poured steaming coffee and a healthy splash of whiskey into a mug.
“Darling, you look as if you need a little warming,” Rowan said to him in greeting before sending the mug towards him and settling it onto the darkly varnished credenza to his left. She released the Light and stood from her chair, smoothing the soft woolen skirts of her dress. A half-filled glass of red wine was quickly taken up in her right hand before she went on, “I didn’t think any place in the world could experience such temperatures as Siberia – but then here we are. Have you spoken with the Holy Father? I had hoped he would come to call…”
The fact that he had returned on the seventh day was not lost on Rowan. She had plotted out seven forests – she was sure one of those would prove to be fruitful – and so the vision that they would conjure as the moon’s light came upon them on the seventh night would have to give them something more.
If it was nothing more but the same, then they would just have to pick one at random and move down the list until they found the second key.
Rowan downed the rest of her glass at the thought.
Armande had been uncharacteristically withdrawn. He had barely touched either Vale or her since the initial vision. A pain seized her heart with every denied advance on her part. The only thing he seemed to care about was the vision – and rightfully so. This was no pleasure trip they had taken.
Rowan had tried to illicit new results before opening her Eye. She had called to the Loa, entered into drunken stupors, laid out spreads of tarot and crystals; but nothing seemed to make a difference. Each time it was the same. Frustration began to creep up on her and an edge had sharpened her voice on more than one occasion. The first key had been too easy to find. How long would it take to find this next one? Would the others take even longer than the second?
It was hard not to get discouraged.
The Holy Father had only arrived earlier that day, and so Rowan found herself praying to the Loa that he was the missing ingredient in their struggle to find a more straightforward path. He would not be sharing the suite with them, of course. The man still had to keep up appearances. It all would have been so much easier if he was not a man of such high profile. Rowan had been deflated when he had departed their little rag-tag group of anti-heroes.
Rowan was curled up in an over-stuffed leather chair, pouring over a story of the Norns when the door to the suite opened to admit Armande. Stray snowflakes fell from his hair and down to the carpet as he looked from Vale to Rowan. She offered him a warm smile and slid the heavy book down onto the side table on her right. She opened herself to the Light and wove a delicate flow of Air, splitting it into three and directing it to the wet bar near the window. Unseen hands poured steaming coffee and a healthy splash of whiskey into a mug.
“Darling, you look as if you need a little warming,” Rowan said to him in greeting before sending the mug towards him and settling it onto the darkly varnished credenza to his left. She released the Light and stood from her chair, smoothing the soft woolen skirts of her dress. A half-filled glass of red wine was quickly taken up in her right hand before she went on, “I didn’t think any place in the world could experience such temperatures as Siberia – but then here we are. Have you spoken with the Holy Father? I had hoped he would come to call…”
The fact that he had returned on the seventh day was not lost on Rowan. She had plotted out seven forests – she was sure one of those would prove to be fruitful – and so the vision that they would conjure as the moon’s light came upon them on the seventh night would have to give them something more.
If it was nothing more but the same, then they would just have to pick one at random and move down the list until they found the second key.
Rowan downed the rest of her glass at the thought.