Stage 2 - Solo 2 - Fevers and Dreams
He had finally made it into Sauti. After weeks of traveling through lonely paths and fighting his way through deep forests the man had emerged on a typical caravan path. While others may have skirted around the torn up stranger Tryston was eager to see life. Out here he felt as if keeping his hood up would be enough to keep a downlow. It wasn’t Zena and he wasn’t near his home any longer. If he were to be caught out here like this then it was simply the fate of the spirits. After all the work he did to avoid detection it would be ironic that when he felt safe that he could be caught.
Thankfully, he was not caught. So Tryston managed to continue on his way until he came to a small town. Seeing the glances of those traveling near him had served as a reminder of his rather rough state and the rumble in his stomach made him consider that just perhaps a stop was in order. Seeing a tavern Tryston turned his weary body and sat down at a table near the bar so that he could order a bowl of soup and get some substance in his body. But instead of being a short stop the man found himself simply sitting and sitting and sitting until his eyes closed and a few hours passed.
“Oiy, are you wantin’ a room?”
Tryston blinked in surprise as he glanced around the tavern. Had someone been talking to him? His head was rather fuzzy and the man shook it repeatedly to try and clear out all the fog that was wearing him down, “Hm?” He managed as he started to get a better sense of his surroundings. Where was he again? Ah, that was right – he had stopped for some food and rest. It seemed, however, that he had gotten more rest than planned.
“You passed out here and I noticed you didn’t even have any ale.” A rather robust wind woman was grinning at him, “If you needed a room, love, you could have simply said so.” Shaking her head in amusement the short woman motioned towards him, “Come, come. I have an open room that needs a sleeping body anyways.”
Tryston frowned as he found himself being lifted by the rather sturdy woman, “How much?” He found himself asking though words came out slowly and softly since his mouth felt so dry. Why was the room spinning as well? Sighing, the man teetered forward but was saved once more by the woman.
“We’ll worry about that once ya get some rest. What did ya come from some war on the horizon?” She teased him as they headed slowly down the hallway, “Yer some mess, that’s fa sure.” The woman took him to a rather simple room with just a small dresser and a wash bowl along the side and a feather down bed against a slender window that looked out over the courtyard next door. It wasn’t a bad space and his body almost melted as it touched the softness of the bed. Why was it when he laid down now that Tryston felt as if he could simply float away? Hadn’t he just gotten some sleep at the table?
Still, Tryston found his eyes closing again and he drifted off to sleep. Strangely though he would wake up to remember some dreams. One where he was a child again fighting with wooden swords against other younglings who were being raised by the brotherhood.
“Go, go, go!” Younglings cheered him on as he faced off against another. But as the battle continued the voices began to warp and the scenery around him got darker. Blood decorated the ground and Tryston found that his own body had shifted to that of what he was now – a young man who was scarred by life and built by many battles and many years of training. His opponent? Still faceless, but older and far more muscled than Tryston.
Grunting, Tryston found himself being slammed into the ground. His surprise at the shifting scenery had allowed the mysterious figure to get the best of him. Wincing, Tryston let out a groan as the world spun around him. “You won’t win this so easily boy. How are you even able to use a sword yet? Having to have Lyrie protect you all the time, how are you ever going to become a true sword? The taunts rang in his ears.
Tryston you can’t do this! Stop playing at swordsman! Such a child. Suddenly he felt like that youngling again and the man found himself shrinking. How could he do any of this? He wasn’t ready! He wasn’t prepared for any of this! But his brothers – they were falling over all around him as they kept getting stabbed from swords that just appeared out of the darkness. His heart clenching Tryston found himself falling backwards as one even got him through the chest. Blood poured from the wound and as he reached a hand up in surprise Tryston stared at the crimson liquid that clung to his fingers and slowly dripped off into a puddle that quickly became a river and engulfed him.
He was dead, they were all dead, even Lyrie and Rhag’na were floating in the river of blood…
“He’s runnin’ quite the fever, Mylah.”
“I see that. The poor lad. Get me another wet cloth, chitlin. I need to reduce his fever.”
”Yes mum.”
Tryston groaned as he twisted on his side weakly. Then as something sticky was forced down his throat the man coughed before falling back again into a feverish slumber. Back down into the darkness of sleep. This time, however, his dream was brighter and in a meadow. Some place that he had never seen before yet felt so familiar. Almost as if he should have known it. Frowning, Tryston reached out with a stranger’s hand and clasped the hand of another. But it was the same feeling that he had from the meadow. He knew her, he should have always known her. His gaze narrowing in confusion Tryston opened his mouth as if to speak before having a finger placed across his lips. The woman tugged at his hand and led him around the place almost as if it were home to her. And he followed. He willing followed as if he would do anything to see this strange woman smile. It made his own heart light to be with her.
Then his body was aching and he found himself stumbling to his knees. But she was there for him and had a wooden bowl held towards his lips. As she tipped it back for him Tryston found himself drinking the most delicious water he had ever tasted. Somehow it was crisp and fresh – even for a substance that normally held no flavor something about this was much more fulfilling than anything he had drank before. His body was feeling better as well from it. Suddenly he felt as if his strength had come back to him.
It was then the darkness came back and Tryston found himself reaching out for the woman only to have his fingers go through her. Almost as if he were reaching out towards a spirit. No, no, no! He had just found her again! How could he lose her now like this? At the last second her features shifted and then his own gaze widened as he recognized the gaze that stared back towards him. Constynce. The name flickered through his mind before Tryston found himself panting and waking up once more. Groaning, Tryston pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes in frustration. What was that dream? What was this fever? Where was he again? Pulling his hands away from his eyes the man glanced around.
That was right – the tavern.
“How long…have I been here?” He found himself asking weakly.
“Two days.” The same woman who had taken him to the room appeared in the doorway, “We were almost about to dig ya a grave.” She teased lightly, “Didn’t know lettin’ ya have a nap here could turn so exciting.” The wind woman approached him and boldly touched his forehead with the back of her hand, “Ya seem to be more normal now well as normal as an ice cold body can be. Must be a Zena thing.” She commented before handing him a bowl of soup, “Eat this and try to rest for a bit more. I would say you should stay in bed til tomorrah. Whatever trip you had ta get here took its toll on ya. If ya leave now I wouldn’t be surprised to see you collapse again so take yer time.”
“But I have to go…I don’t have that much coin-“
“Don’t worry about it. Gotta have some mercy on a stranger here and there.” She grinned, “Ya can help us out later or something. I saw your sword so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep friendly with a swordsman. Rest up, okay?”
Tryston found himself nodding his head and just blinking as the woman disappeared once more. It seemed that the last few days had been rather confusing indeed. The unexpected kindness of a stranger coupled with those dreams had him completely baffled. Surely though it was just nerves form the mission that was ahead of him. Tale was only a day away now after all. He was getting closer.
(1583)
He had finally made it into Sauti. After weeks of traveling through lonely paths and fighting his way through deep forests the man had emerged on a typical caravan path. While others may have skirted around the torn up stranger Tryston was eager to see life. Out here he felt as if keeping his hood up would be enough to keep a downlow. It wasn’t Zena and he wasn’t near his home any longer. If he were to be caught out here like this then it was simply the fate of the spirits. After all the work he did to avoid detection it would be ironic that when he felt safe that he could be caught.
Thankfully, he was not caught. So Tryston managed to continue on his way until he came to a small town. Seeing the glances of those traveling near him had served as a reminder of his rather rough state and the rumble in his stomach made him consider that just perhaps a stop was in order. Seeing a tavern Tryston turned his weary body and sat down at a table near the bar so that he could order a bowl of soup and get some substance in his body. But instead of being a short stop the man found himself simply sitting and sitting and sitting until his eyes closed and a few hours passed.
“Oiy, are you wantin’ a room?”
Tryston blinked in surprise as he glanced around the tavern. Had someone been talking to him? His head was rather fuzzy and the man shook it repeatedly to try and clear out all the fog that was wearing him down, “Hm?” He managed as he started to get a better sense of his surroundings. Where was he again? Ah, that was right – he had stopped for some food and rest. It seemed, however, that he had gotten more rest than planned.
“You passed out here and I noticed you didn’t even have any ale.” A rather robust wind woman was grinning at him, “If you needed a room, love, you could have simply said so.” Shaking her head in amusement the short woman motioned towards him, “Come, come. I have an open room that needs a sleeping body anyways.”
Tryston frowned as he found himself being lifted by the rather sturdy woman, “How much?” He found himself asking though words came out slowly and softly since his mouth felt so dry. Why was the room spinning as well? Sighing, the man teetered forward but was saved once more by the woman.
“We’ll worry about that once ya get some rest. What did ya come from some war on the horizon?” She teased him as they headed slowly down the hallway, “Yer some mess, that’s fa sure.” The woman took him to a rather simple room with just a small dresser and a wash bowl along the side and a feather down bed against a slender window that looked out over the courtyard next door. It wasn’t a bad space and his body almost melted as it touched the softness of the bed. Why was it when he laid down now that Tryston felt as if he could simply float away? Hadn’t he just gotten some sleep at the table?
Still, Tryston found his eyes closing again and he drifted off to sleep. Strangely though he would wake up to remember some dreams. One where he was a child again fighting with wooden swords against other younglings who were being raised by the brotherhood.
“Go, go, go!” Younglings cheered him on as he faced off against another. But as the battle continued the voices began to warp and the scenery around him got darker. Blood decorated the ground and Tryston found that his own body had shifted to that of what he was now – a young man who was scarred by life and built by many battles and many years of training. His opponent? Still faceless, but older and far more muscled than Tryston.
Grunting, Tryston found himself being slammed into the ground. His surprise at the shifting scenery had allowed the mysterious figure to get the best of him. Wincing, Tryston let out a groan as the world spun around him. “You won’t win this so easily boy. How are you even able to use a sword yet? Having to have Lyrie protect you all the time, how are you ever going to become a true sword? The taunts rang in his ears.
Tryston you can’t do this! Stop playing at swordsman! Such a child. Suddenly he felt like that youngling again and the man found himself shrinking. How could he do any of this? He wasn’t ready! He wasn’t prepared for any of this! But his brothers – they were falling over all around him as they kept getting stabbed from swords that just appeared out of the darkness. His heart clenching Tryston found himself falling backwards as one even got him through the chest. Blood poured from the wound and as he reached a hand up in surprise Tryston stared at the crimson liquid that clung to his fingers and slowly dripped off into a puddle that quickly became a river and engulfed him.
He was dead, they were all dead, even Lyrie and Rhag’na were floating in the river of blood…
“He’s runnin’ quite the fever, Mylah.”
“I see that. The poor lad. Get me another wet cloth, chitlin. I need to reduce his fever.”
”Yes mum.”
Tryston groaned as he twisted on his side weakly. Then as something sticky was forced down his throat the man coughed before falling back again into a feverish slumber. Back down into the darkness of sleep. This time, however, his dream was brighter and in a meadow. Some place that he had never seen before yet felt so familiar. Almost as if he should have known it. Frowning, Tryston reached out with a stranger’s hand and clasped the hand of another. But it was the same feeling that he had from the meadow. He knew her, he should have always known her. His gaze narrowing in confusion Tryston opened his mouth as if to speak before having a finger placed across his lips. The woman tugged at his hand and led him around the place almost as if it were home to her. And he followed. He willing followed as if he would do anything to see this strange woman smile. It made his own heart light to be with her.
Then his body was aching and he found himself stumbling to his knees. But she was there for him and had a wooden bowl held towards his lips. As she tipped it back for him Tryston found himself drinking the most delicious water he had ever tasted. Somehow it was crisp and fresh – even for a substance that normally held no flavor something about this was much more fulfilling than anything he had drank before. His body was feeling better as well from it. Suddenly he felt as if his strength had come back to him.
It was then the darkness came back and Tryston found himself reaching out for the woman only to have his fingers go through her. Almost as if he were reaching out towards a spirit. No, no, no! He had just found her again! How could he lose her now like this? At the last second her features shifted and then his own gaze widened as he recognized the gaze that stared back towards him. Constynce. The name flickered through his mind before Tryston found himself panting and waking up once more. Groaning, Tryston pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes in frustration. What was that dream? What was this fever? Where was he again? Pulling his hands away from his eyes the man glanced around.
That was right – the tavern.
“How long…have I been here?” He found himself asking weakly.
“Two days.” The same woman who had taken him to the room appeared in the doorway, “We were almost about to dig ya a grave.” She teased lightly, “Didn’t know lettin’ ya have a nap here could turn so exciting.” The wind woman approached him and boldly touched his forehead with the back of her hand, “Ya seem to be more normal now well as normal as an ice cold body can be. Must be a Zena thing.” She commented before handing him a bowl of soup, “Eat this and try to rest for a bit more. I would say you should stay in bed til tomorrah. Whatever trip you had ta get here took its toll on ya. If ya leave now I wouldn’t be surprised to see you collapse again so take yer time.”
“But I have to go…I don’t have that much coin-“
“Don’t worry about it. Gotta have some mercy on a stranger here and there.” She grinned, “Ya can help us out later or something. I saw your sword so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep friendly with a swordsman. Rest up, okay?”
Tryston found himself nodding his head and just blinking as the woman disappeared once more. It seemed that the last few days had been rather confusing indeed. The unexpected kindness of a stranger coupled with those dreams had him completely baffled. Surely though it was just nerves form the mission that was ahead of him. Tale was only a day away now after all. He was getting closer.
(1583)
