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Old 08-17-2010, 03:10 PM   #1
Zanadi
Server: Antonia Bayle
Guild: Vagabond Knights
Rank: Officer

EQ2's-Day Host
 
Join Date: Feb 2006
Posts: 135
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Part of an RP story that goes along with the thread Dream Chasing. It might help to clear up a bit about the character.

Almost two years ago...

It had been a beautiful day despite the harsh burnt smell on the breeze. You could still smell it and Arwren wondered if it would ever go away. It stung her nose as she took in a deep breath. She sighed heavily as she tended the garden her friend had left. The fire hadn't left much of the house from Yveth's childhood but the garden remained intacted. She didn't have as much of a green thumb as Yveth did but she couldn't let the weeds choke out the flowers. Marta had taken care of the dead days ago. Some of the towns people had helped to bury Yveth's mother and grandmother. It was a hard heavy time for the little town. As was her way she tried to smile through it. At least the flowers made her smile. Yveth would love these, the purples and the blues. She thought of how this was going to hit her friend. It hurt her heart almost as much as dealing with the loss. Yveth and Arwren had grown up together, ones mother was the others. Sisters of the heart but not by the blood not that anyone could tell them differently.

So lost in thought she never saw the thexian who crept into the garden behind her. He watched her for a moment, studying her from behind before advancing on her. Her humming turned to a gasp as a sharp pain ripped through her side. Her mouth opened and closed but she couldn't speak. He leaned in close his breath warm on her ear. It made her skin crawl. "Yveth..."

Arwren managed to get in a breath, still stunned. Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. "I'm not her...I'm not..." The darkness licked at her senses as she fell back. The man behind her stepped back, letting her collapse to the ground. Her side burned, a warmth seeped across her. She shook looking up at him. Why was she so tired all of a sudden? It was then she noticed the blade in his hand. It was curved and covered in blood. It took her a moment to realize it was her blood. "Why..."

"The red hair, I thought..." He disappeared before he finished his sentence leaving her prone on the floor. Her blood pooled around her, seeping into her cotton dress. No one was around to hear her silent cries for help. She closed her eyes, so tired...

It would be hours before anyone wandered out to find her.

"Wren, child it's getting late. You shouldn't be here so...ARWREN!" Marta rushed to her daughters side. Even in the evening light the urgency of the situation could be seen. "Arwren, don't you do this to me! ARWREN!" She kneeled, scooping her up touching her cold face. Tears ran down Marta's face as she rocked her dying child. "Help! Someone help me!"

A few hours later would find Arwren wrapped in bandages and blankets, white as the sheets she lay on and shaking. Marta hovered just over the bed. "She's burning up."

"Marta, we've done what we can." "We've not done everything. Heal her again." "Marta..."

"Heal her AGAIN!"

The others in the room tried to get the emotional woman under control. "Stop. Your not helping her this way. She's been poisoned Marta. It's not one we've seen before. There's nothing more we can do. The wound will heal but the poison will take her long before it can."

"I won't lose my daughter to some monster!"

"Momma?" Her voice was quiet but music to a mother's ears and stopped any current argument.

"Arwren." Marta bustled over to her side and took up her hand. "Love, we were so worried." One of the women gently touched Marta's shoulder. "You have to tell her."

Marta looked at her daughter, pain evident in her eyes. Hard as she tried she couldn't hide it. How do you tell your only daughter she was dying?

"Momma...it'll be alright." Arwren smiled weakly. "Don't cry...." She sighed and her head lolled off to the side as her eyes closed again.

Fresh tears streamed down Marta's face. She gently kissed Arwren's cold hand before laying it by her side, tucking it under the blankets. "Fetch me Zuse and have Wren ready to travel within the hour. I'm going to go speak to her father. It's time to speak to the gypsies."

"Marta! You can't be serious." The women looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "The gypsies are outcast for a reason. They'll kill her! Their ways are not ours."

She stood, turning on the women who had done nothing but minor heals and arguments. They'd done their best but it wasn't good enough. Nothing was good enough. "She's going to die by morning if something isn't done. Your going to kill her!"

"You move her and she'll die before you reach your destination. She's gone Marta, you have to accept that."

"I don't have to accept anything!" She brushed past the women, her tear streaked face scrunched up in determination. Wren wasn't giving up without a fight and she'd be damned if she was going to either.

*******************************************

Marta rode hell bent for what seemed like hours. She knew each moment that ticked off could be the last for her red headed spitfire. She looked down at Arwren wrapped up tight in her arms. Oh how it hurt to see the flame in her eyes snuffed out. She'd stopped only when necessary to give Zuse a rest and check on Wren. Still breathing. Each breath meant hope. The sun was rising as Marta pulled Zuse up sharp. The small camp was quiet other than a rooster that crowed to the early morning light. She trotted right up in the middle of the small band of wagons. Not far were old pits of half burned out bonfires, signs of a late night celebration still evident through out the camp.

"Who might you be?" The voice came from behind her and she whirled Zuse around to come face to face with a young man dressed in a muslin tunic and brightly colored pants. After the hard ride Zuse protested at the movement and threw his head. He was Arwren's white steed and he was as strong and spirited as she was. Marta got him quickly under control after a bit of prancing. "Please, I need help. I heard of a Lady Maynace who can help me. I won't leave without seeing her."

"You have found her but can't say as I hold the title of Lady." A round looking woman dressed in many colorful fabrics made her way from a paticularly odd looking wagon. It was much larger than the rest in the troupe with what could only be described as voodoo looking items strewn about it. Not to be deterred Marta nodded to Maynace. "Ma'am please, I beg your help. My daughter she doesn't have much time left." Maynace gave her a concerned look and glanced on the woman wrapped up tightly. "What is wrong with her?" "She's dying. An assassin's blade...to her side. None of our healers have been able to cure it. The wound merely burns, the aid of our magical healing does nothing. Please...I'll give you anything you could want for."

Maynace shook her head. "We don't have want for anything." Marta's eyes glassed as if she were to burst into tears once more. "You must help her!"

Maynace looked to the woman in Marta's arms, her fire red hair a contrast to her pale face. Poison wracked her body yet she looked so peaceful. "Florn, take the Little Bird from the woman and take her to my wagon."

Marta thought she'd faint with relief. It was a expression that wasn't overlooked by the older gypsy woman. "One patient is enough, don't go losing it now. The worst is yet to come." Marta let Arwren slide down off her lap into the waiting arms of the young man, Florn. She dismounted, wobbling on legs that had ridden too hard and too long to be steady. "Promise me you'll care for her. Promise me you'll treat her as if she were your own daughter."

Maynace watched as Florn and some others carried Arwren up into her wagon. "The Little Bird came to me in a dream. She has wings, passionate in her flight she was. It would be a shame to see them clipped before she gets to fly to where she belongs. Aye, I'll promise." She turned to look at the distraught mother before heading to the wagon to see to her new charge. "But you must accept where she belongs may not be with you."

"I won't lose her."

"You may not have a choice."

*****************************************

Arwren leaned over edge of the small cot, retching for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her head hurt, her body felt as if it were on fire, pain seeped into every muscle. A man she'd come to know as Florn held her long red hair as her stomach emptied. Not that she had anything but broth in it to start with. "Good, good." He told her. "It won't be long now, your adjusting to the medicine."

She caught her breath and laid back in the bed she'd spent more than two weeks in now. "Adjusting." She croaked out the words, her throat raw from being sick so much. "If this...is adjusting I think...I'd like to be poisoned again."

He took the bucket away and set down a clean one. Sitting on the edge of the bed he wiped her face with a cool wet cloth and chuckled. "Oh do not worry little Wren, you are definitely still poisoned." She gave him a weak smile. "Oh thank goodness. I was worried for a moment and thought you'd cured me." He laughed again.

"Such spirit. If your up to it Nace has said you can get up and walk today." He had to push her back down as she immediately tried to sit up deciding 'today' meant 'now'. "Oh no you don't. Knowing you as I've come to you'll get up and think you can dance a jig. You'll burn right through what little medicine you've got left in your body thanks to that little bucket episode. Give yourself a minute to settle." Wren nodded to him as she relaxed back into the bed. "The poison, Little Bird, is something different than we've dealt with before. We can stem it back with the medicine we've made but...it will always be with you." He shook his head unable to meet her eyes. This was information she'd been told already by a few others since she'd woke days ago. She'd been upset at first. How was one suppose to take the news they could die at anytime? The medicine they could provide for her was made with a special herb they grew in the wagons. It was only because of this plant with it's odd purple flowers that Arwren still drew breath. Although great in it's healing properties it was unable to purge the poison from her system. The poison itself still couldn't be identified by any means that had been tried. Wren knew without the medicine each day the poison would once again resume it's infection of her body, eventually killing her.

She patted Florn's hand giving him another smile. "I've been given a second chance Florn."

"Wren do me a favor?" "Anything." "Stay in bed, stay here. We'll take care of you." She immediately shook her head. "You know I can't do that." "You can. We'll see you want for nothing." "And where would that leave me? Bedridden may keep me alive longer but it's no way to live." She pushed the blankets away from her legs and her face lit up with a gentle smile. "Now help me up before Nace comes in and thinks she can make me take another nap."

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