[The Bronze Wood] First Time for Everything (Sturlin)

[Eris]

79th Day of Spring, 510 A.V.

Eris scowled to herself as her feet splashed through a mixture of mud and grass. Why had she choosen this day of all days to go on this little expedition? She had all the time in the world to retrieve the information her employer was seeking. The man had assumed that the project would take her a few weeks at least and she had only gotten the assignment yesterday. But Eris was aching for something to do – tired of spending long days wandering the Syliras streets with no purpose in mind. Plus, this mission was a welcome break from all the more…fatal jobs she’d had recently. Fatal not for her, of course, but for her targets. Nevertheless, Eris was tired of wrestling with a conscience that seemed to have woken up in the past few months.

Suddenly, she was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of a branch creaking. The woman halted abruptly, eyes brusquely scanning the area. Rhine bumped her nose into Eris’s shoulder, whining impatiently. And had she decided to bring her horse along? She could’ve walked the distance. Sure, it would’ve taken a whole lot more time, but at least, now she’d have one less problem on her hands.

Eris patted the horse’s nose distractedly, trying to keep her eyes out for dangers while giving the self-centered animal the attention she so craved. In retrospect, Eris knew that she would end up feeling glad at having taken Rhine with her. Nothing like along trek on foot back to the city to ruin a hard day’s work.

Eris tilted her head up, trying to make out the color of the sky through the gaps in the thick, green canopy overhead. Patches of grey peaked out from behind the leaves. She wasn’t sure precisely how much time she had spent in the woods, but she guessed that it must be early evening by now.

Again, Eris heard a sound coming from the distance. This wasn’t a well-travelled path through the woods – not a place for tourists or regular travelers. Eris held up her hand in Rhine’s direction, a well-known sign for the mare to stay back. Rhine happily obliged, already bending her head to the lush, green grass. Eris rested her hand lightly on the hilt of her dagger, beginning to move in what she judged to be the general direction of the noise.

[Sturlin]

Given the nature of his mishap in the Aylasa caves Sturlin was reluctant to perform any powerful experiments in the near future. As much as he hated to admit it, the only course that remained in front of him was to get back on the proverbial horse and do his best to avoid such mishaps in the future. The result: Sturlin was sitting in a clearing by himself, his camp some miles distant, having just swept branches and twigs from the ground.

All that he planned to do was practice manipulating his Res to keep himself in shape. Perhaps if he was feeling adventurous he would test the boundaries of his control, but he would not be testing the boundaries of how much he could produce. Only a small amount, for a small experiment. His hand twitched convulsively at the memory of the pain. Psychologically his recovery would take much longer than his body had taken to heal.

To an outsider his actions would seem strange. He had cleared a large area of ground, stacking the fallen wood as if preparing it for a fire. Kneeling in precise center of the clearing he closed his eyes and recited his mantra in his deep baritone. It had become his standard method of meditation. Allowing the meaning of the words to suffuse him he then allowed the mindless repetition of the words to clear all other distractions from his mind. Anyone who listened carefully could discern the meaning.

"The key to power is focus."

"The key to focus is calm."

"The key to calm is peace."

"The key to peace is power."

Though he was preparing himself for a spell he did not resemble the stereotypical wizard. Sturlin was large of stature and frame, well muscled from a life of work and struggle. The scars on his face, which often made his face appear fearsome when he formed expressions, matched the scuffed and worn leathers which covered his body. Both the pants and jacket had bore signs of damage from claw or rock.

His pack was resting a step behind and to the left. A bow, a quiver, an ax, and a dagger were resting one step behind him and to the right. There were no other possessions visible. He had left everything else packed away neatly in his camp. Mr. Pickles would look after the camp for him. The cat had promised. Francis was not nearly as reliable as Mr. Pickles.

"The key to power is focus."

"The key to focus is calm."

"The key to calm is peace."

"The key to peace is power."

[Eris]

Eris cringed as she heard a branch snap beneath her foot. Whatever happened to all that time spent learning how to stay silent while moving? True, she was feeling slightly off her game, but throwing caution to the wind simply wouldn’t do. She slowed down, making sure that her footsteps made little to no sound on the forest floor.

As she moved further between the trees, she realized that the distant noise she kept hearing was some sort of chanting. And this would be the point where a smart person would turn back. She could almost hear Joel’s sardonic voice in her head. Eris scowled to herself, quickening her pace as if to spite her old teacher. I don’t care what Joel would’ve done. This might be important, might even relate to my employer’s problem… She tried to convince herself that there was some sensible reason that she was advancing toward the chanting rather than away from it. But despite all the half-hearted explanations she provided for herself, she knew that the main reason was her curiosity. That insufferable curiosity that has gotten her into trouble so many times before…

Eris cautiously parted some branches in front of her, making certain that her head was bent low enough behind the bushes so as not to be immediately seen. Another advantage of her relatively short stature… But the hair once again posed a problem. She knew that there were certain herbs that could be used to color one’s hair, but Eris simply couldn’t bring herself to get rid of the bright orange bangs that framed her face. She had already chopped off the hair close to the skull – keeping the color was the one whimsy she allowed herself.

Eris peaked over the tops of the bush, her eyebrows jumping up as her eyes focused on the sigh before her. Was that a camp site of some sort? The pile of wood in the center certainly pointed to the fact, but the clearing was bare of any other camping necessities. And then there was the person sitting in front of the pile of branches… He looked like a hunter – certainly the array of weapons laid out next to him supported the theory. But what was he doing?

Eris cocked her head to the side, trying to make out what the man was saying. Even being as close as she now was to the man, she couldn’t properly discern what he was saying. Something about keys and power…

I should leave. No need to get into trouble – got a job to do.
But what if it’s more interesting than that? What if there’s a story to hear – something new and exciting?
You’re acting like a child.
I’m sick of doing the same old thing over and over.

Eris hated arguing with herself like that – there were times when she wasn’t sure if she was simply speaking with herself or with Joel. And that unnerved her. Coming to a decision, she straightened from behind the bush, taking a step forward.

[Sturlin]

Sturlin's chanting continued over the distant snapping of a branch. It was not near enough for him to take notice of it. Remaining in his kneeling position, he raised his heavily scarred left hand before him and turned it palm up. Without opening his eyes he began to summon Res from inside of himself. A black, translucent gas formed within the cracks of his palm and swirled forth to fill his hand. The gas moved as if alive, stretching and swirling and lifting above his flesh.

Once it had left contact with his palm it formed into a sphere roughly the size of an apple. What he had intended to do with that sphere was unknown, because he heard something shift nearby. After the number of near-deaths he had experienced this spring he was paying keen attention to his surroundings, in spite of any evidence to the contrary. He turned to see Eris shortly after she had stepped out from behind a bush. As his eyes flicked to her bright red hair his right hand flashed to the handle of his Ax.

Though the ax was more suited for cutting wood than flesh, and though he was not highly skilled in the use of the weapon, he gripped the wooden handle and lifted it as he stood. The sphere of black gas hovered next to him, waiting to see if it would be needed as of yet. This was a weapon which he was quite skilled at utilizing. For a moment he considered lashing out and asking questions later, but he caught himself. Mr. Pickles would be disappointed in him if he were to harm someone without cause.

His voice was deep and powerful, and he spoke with conviction as he assessed her. "That's far enough neighbor. How exactly may I help you?" The magician raised an eyebrow as he finished speaking, stretching the scars on his face into new patterns.

[Eris]

Eris hardly had the time to contemplate on the nature of the strange black mist before the man grabbed for the axe. Eris’s hand tightened on the hilt of her dagger, brining it out in front of her protectively. She realized that a dagger wouldn’t be of much use against an axe, but if she were to catch the man off guard… After all, the dagger was more than capable of cutting through flesh when said flesh wasn’t guarded by an axe. But she had promised herself that she wouldn’t shed blood today.

Her eyes scanned the man up and down, taking her time to examine him thoroughly before she answered.The scars covering his face were a little disconcerting, but Eris wasn’t particularly bothered by them. She had seen worse.

“I was only passing by – I wasn’t aware that you had claimed this clearing for your own,” Eris said nonchalantly, rising an eyebrow. She kept her voice cool and non-confrontational, even as her blade glinted in her hand.

She stayed away from answering his question – mostly because she did not have a reasonable answer. She was curious, yet again – nothing that could be explained without making her seem foolish. Her eyes strayed to the black, translucent ball hovering in the air. Was it some form of magic? Eris had little experience with that sort of thing and she wondered if it posed a danger to her. Better to assume that it did.

[Sturlin]

Sturlin took a single step back to shift his feet, which accomplished several things. First it turned his body sidelong, providing a smaller target if she were to throw her dagger or otherwise take hostile action. Secondly it placed his right arm, and the ax in his hand, between the two of them. This placed his left hand behind him, making it more difficult to observe as he called the ball of Res back into his palm and cupped it there. He did not wish to disappoint Mr. Pickles by attacking the woman without cause, but if she attacked him then she would have more to fear from his magic than his weapon.

"As a traveler you know of strangers. Always is someone seeking to take. Never a poor idea to be cautious. No offense intended, of course. In the spirit of being a good host I ask again: how exactly may I help you neighbor?" He held his weapon like a woodcutter, not a warrior. This didn't make the edge of the blade any less sharp. His eyes were alert and his body was loose, ready to move in any way necessary. The magician did his best to be polite. Sturlin did not wish the redhead any harm, but she had come upon him suddenly and carried weapons. That made her a potential threat first.

[Eris]

Eris’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the man subtly shift his stance. He was preparing to either attack or defend. Eris didn’t like to wonder which one it was – for her attacking was always the best option, as it was quite difficult to block an axe sailing toward one’s neck.

Her mind groped for an answer – throwing away potential excuses one after the other. Finally, she came upon something – the truth, actually. Eris almost laughed out loud as she realized that speaking the truth was the last thing she thought of. Of course, it wouldn’t do to entirely reveal her reason for being in the wood, but perhaps, this stranger could provide some answers for her.

“Very well. I’m looking for a man that might have passed through these parts yesterday or early this morning. Perhaps you have seen him around here? Middle-aged, black hair, stooped posture, and a walking staff,” she spoke, all the while keeping her eyes trained on the ominously floating sphere in the man’s hand.

The idea of actually happening upon someone who might have seen her target had never occurred to Eris. These parts were mostly left deserted and she had not expected to find anyone here, except for the man she was originally looking for. In fact, she didn’t much care if she ever found the man. It was an article in his possession that was important. Her employer didn’t care whether the man returned alive or dead, or indeed, whether he returned at all. All she needed was the bag – and she had reason to believe that the thief might have hidden it somewhere in the forest.

[Sturlin]

"Let us suppose that you found this man. What is it you would like to do with him?" Sturlin's eyes flickered once to his left, and once to his right. Checking his surroundings and peripheral vision for other people. There was always the chance that someone was sneaking up behind him. Her mood seemed to have lightened, aside from a readiness to defend herself.

He would hold the Res for a little longer. If he became convinced that she was not here to slit his throat with that dagger then he would dispose of it one way or another. After all, he had been planning only a simple exercise. No reason to turn it into anything fancy or complicated. The scarred corner of his mouth turned downward as the good side curled upward in a smile.

[Eris]

“Nothing at all. I would only like to take back something that he has stolen from… a friend,” Eris replied.

She watched the man’s face contort into a different expression, the scars seemingly rearranging themselves on his face. His facial muscles rested in something that might have been a smile. That was fine then. If he was smiling, then he wouldn’t be so likely to attack. Unless, of course it was all a ruse… Eris curled and uncurled her fingers around the hilt of her dagger.

She still watched the black sphere wearily, wondering what it could be. She wondered how out of place it would be to ask the stranger what he was doing here. Was it some sort of ritual? A magical exercise? Eris knew too little about these sorts of things to really be sure.

[Sturlin]

"You remind me of my favorite fruit. The shade of your hair that is," he corrected himself with that same crooked smile. "Cherry. Don't know if I can help you. Saw a man go through here yesterday. Didn't follow him. Might be able to find the tracks. Not that you need the help."

His sentences were short and to the point. They almost sounded choppy. He did not interact with people often and when he did they tended not to like him. What appeared to be abruptness was just social inexperience. Mountain men may like to talk on occasion, but they do not make spectacular orators. Bringing his left hand around in front of his body he looked down and manipulated the Res with his mind.

The gas separated into two distinct spheres, attached at the side, with a bent shaft extending from the top. With a gentle flash it transmuted into a pair of cherries, with a stem extending from the top. One solid piece. As good as any experience he had planned for the day. The sculpture was made of rose colored marble, giving the cherries a faint glow as they reflected the light. In total the size was still about the same as an apple.

"Nice to meet you Cherry." With a flick of his arm he gently tossed her the sculpture, allowing his axe to lower to his side.