Flashback Her Father's Riddle

[Tabitha Aryns]

Fall 78th, 513AV Stormhold Castle > Ceras’ Apartment Tabitha had arrived at Syliras’ gates the day before close to nightfall, it hadn’t taken her long to find an apartment in the Traveller’s Row, and crashed as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her journey had been a difficult one, dangerous, with bandits, and creatures, the caravan she had been with was lucky. So very lucky. Either Dira had retracted her hand or Ovek had smiled upon them, and while Tabitha was not openly religious, she had often found herself thanking the two for allowing the caravan to even succeed. Her mother had sent word via courier requesting that Tabitha come to Syliras at once due to her ailing father, it seemed they, he, did not escape the plague fast enough. If it had taken the courier as long as Tabitha had taken to get from Zeltiva to Syliras then her father was surely dead by now. What they did with his body was not written in the letter, perhaps a reality her mother did not want to deal with right then, but it seemed fairly obvious that the city wouldn’t have been able to bury bodies within the walls. There was too much stone everywheres, it covered the roads, the walls, and the ceilings, and that was mostly what Tabitha could see when she looked up, were ceilings. On the way into the city itself the day before she had been awed by the amount of people still wandering about even though the night had been approaching fast. If they did bury their dead, it certainly wasn’t anywheres near the entrance, or anywheres, if at all, as Tabitha had not seen any sort of graveyard nearby. Could they have possibly burned his body..? Tabitha felt her chest squeeze at the notion. There had been many body burnings in Zeltiva, death rampaged unchecked, and there had been not enough room to dispose of the rotting corpses fast enough, maybe it was the same for Syliras just without the plague. It was a likely theory but she felt nauseous over it, internally hoping for a decent burial. I need to find mom.. Tabitha concentrated on that thought as she left her apartment early in the morning, her mother’s letter in hand which possessed the directions needed to find her mother’s abode. Pausing in front of a doorway after a few twists and turns, people minding their own business maybe glanced at her, but went on their way. This had to be the apartment, she looked at the directions, and then back to the door, face turning green as she reached to rap on the wood with her shaking knuckles. At first there was no response, the chimes passed for eons seemingly, before Tabitha tried again, this time a little harder, louder, and with more fervor. When that did nothing, she was ready to backtrack and start over at the entrance, gods forbid, she hoped not. Nothing. Blasts. Tabitha groaned, beginning to turn away from the door when suddenly it opened as a voice rasped quietly words she could not make out very well. Halting mid-turn, Tabitha repositioned herself to face the apartment's occupant, eyes widening with surprise and disbelief at who had answered her rapping. In the entryway stood a haggard old woman, thinning black hair peppered with grey, face sullen and unwashed, green eyes bloodshot and the odor of booze permeating her very presence. Even the woman's clothes looked torn and unkempt, falling apart, stained with only gods knew what. This couldn’t be her mother, and the young woman began to apologize when the old woman interrupted; the breath in Tabby’s throat caught itself there at the one question, the one, gut wrenching inquiry that made time seemingly stand still around them. “Tabitha dear, is that you?”

[Tabitha Aryns]

Ceras’ home was filthy. Cobwebs had collected in every corner while a fine coat of dust layered most of the flat surfaces in the tiny apartment, the only place relatively free of the dust was her mother’s bed, table, and hearth, where a suspicious looking black pot sat on the mantle. Empty wine bottles lay in troves around her mother’s bed, and a pile sat on top of the table, as well as next to it, and under it. Broken glass? Tabitha could see a twinkle of it in the apartment’s poor lighting, a stain of liquid on the wall it was near darker than the rest of the dimly lit white grey stone, suggesting a bottle had been thrown at one point. Trash was a constant. Food lay rotting on her mother’s counter tops, and dishes had what looked like mold growing on them. Even Tabitha would have preferred the stench she had been greeted with upon arriving in Syliras to the deathly odor her mother had created. It took all her willpower to not reject the contents in her stomach from last night, but her mother seemed use to it, seemed to not care in the slightest. Ceras had really let herself go, if Job Aryns had been alive, Tabitha’s father, this would have never been a problem. Her mother was one of the cleanest of people Tabitha knew, a smudge of dirt never lasted long in their Zeltivan home, dust was but a myth, dirty dishes weren’t even given a chance to grow mold because they were required to be washed by every family member after each meal time, and trash was promptly disposed of in an orderly fashion. To see Ceras’ apartment like this was out of character for her mother, and it worried Tabitha a great deal on the older woman’s health, she would have never guessed her mother could let her home become so disgusting. They were sitting at the table, facing each other, her mother’s gaze empty as she stared past her daughter without so much as a flicker of interest. It was disturbing. Tabitha cleared her throat, fidgeting enough for the chair she was sitting on to creak weakly but it was her mother who broke the heart thrumming silence. “Tabitha..” “Was the trip here difficult?” Ceras questioned, finally looking at her daughter truly. Small talk. Her mother wasn’t one to beat around the bush, but at the moment Tabby was glad for the distraction, she wasn’t sure how her mother would react to bringing her father up so suddenly. The apartment gave her a dreadful feeling, a warning, that what may come to pass would not be good. “No, it went by smoothly.” Tabby lied, it had been difficult, but it went smooth enough once they had started to travel through what Tabby had been told were farm fields. She didn’t want to worry her mother right then, but her mother took the answer with a stiff nod, perhaps believing her daughter. “And Amanda?” Ceras’ eyes hardened, as Tabitha knew the older woman did not like her best friend. Her mother had stubbornly accepted the fact that the two would be friends whether she liked it or not, and thus tolerated the friendship, albeit barely. Her parents had near begged her to come with them when they left Zeltiva, but Tabby had stayed behind, worried for her friends health and to help Amanda in whatever way she could. What Tabitha surmised was that her mother didn’t really care what happened to Amanda, she was waiting to hear that Amanda was dead, but that wasn't really the case, for Amanda was still very much alive. Though what activities she could have done with little effort now took a great deal of time to perform, her energy had been severely sapped during her illness, but at least she was alive. Simple. Keep the answers simple. Tabby chided internally. Trying to keep her voice as vacant of emotion as possible. “She was fine when I last saw her, weak, but fine.”

[Tabitha Aryns]

“Good. That’s good.” Her mother breathed out quietly, looking away to the hearth’s mantle, eyes going distant as she spoke not soon after. “You’re father would have been glad. He knew how much you cared for her..” Her voice slowly, tiredly, dropped off at the end, aging her features by a great deal of years. Tabitha tensed as her father was brought up, would have spoke, but Ceras continued on after her short pause. “He’s in that urn there.” Eyes followed Ceras’ finger as she pointed to the suspicious black urn, Tabitha felt a lump form in her throat, the will to speak degenerating. “See?” Her mother asked, so Tabitha turned back to face her mother, nodding slowly in understanding. They had burned him, her fears were now just confirmed, there was no burial for her father but.. “I’m happy they let me take his ashes, I would throw them in the sea.” Her mother shook her head, chin tilting inwards to her chest as tears streaked down her face, Ceras began to cry. “But I am too old to make a trip back to Zeltiva, so, so.. tired.” There was a long pause, it ate away time, replacing it with a stark stillness that made the hairs on the back of Tabitha's neck rise. Would this be the part where her mother would ask Tabitha to make the trip for her? Pained eyes watched as her mother’s form crumbled, forehead touching the table as the choked sobs cleaved the air's excruciating silence. It was enough to make even Tabitha’s eyes begin watering, her own chest heavy with sorrow; What do I do? What do I say? Think, Tabitha, think! Tabby drilled at herself, grinding her back teeth as she made her mind up. She would go back to Zeltiva, and allow her mother some closure, and perhaps even some peace of mind for her father’s passed on spirit. Slam! Rattle! Quivering palms pounded once in unison on the tabletop, hands stinging at the force of which the young woman had slammed them, while her chair had been knocked backwards in the process, clanging on the dirty flooring. Seeing her mother act like this was torture. Tabitha wanted it to stop. Where was that cheerful woman who worried for Tabitha’s safety? Her voice cracked at first, weak, but finished with a firm resolve. “I’ll.. I’ll do it, mom, I’ll go back to Zeltiva for you.” She didn’t want to, not after what happened on the road, she didn’t want to leave either after she only just arrived, but if it would help her mother then gods petch her, curse her, help her. Tabitha would do it if her mother would ask it of her. Silence. Ceras’ form stopped shaking at her daughter’s outburst, a mumbled reply, of which was hard to hear but her mother persisted. Cupping the back of her head, in what one could have presumed was fear, an awkward fetal position. “No.” Her mother croaked in defiance. “You will not.”

[Tabitha Aryns]

“B-but--!” Tabitha started with great intentions, but was cut off by her mother who looked up at her daughter with absolute fear in her eyes, voice harsh and accusing, desperation filled. “You are a terrible petching liar Tabitha Aryns! You will not be leaving Syliras. I saw it in your eyes, heard it in your voice!” Her mother also stood, palms flat on the table top’s surface, trembling. “Something did happen on the Kabrin! Something bad. Dangerous. Tabitha. Nothing is ever that easy!” She was right. Tabitha cringed, taken aback by her mother’s own outburst and stepped back, looking away to the ground. Once loosened hands now tightened into frustrated fists at her sides, she had hoped her mother would have believed her, but no, of course not. Ceras demanded to hear more. “What really happened?” “Bandits.” Through gritted teeth, Tabitha pushed back the memories, still clean, and fresh in her mind, but she wished to just forget. Ceras still stood but sat back down after a few tense moments, snot running down her nostrils as she went to wipe it away with her tattered sleeve, eyes red, and blurry. “Are you alright sweetie? Did they hurt you?” “No..” “Tabitha--” Ceras began to warn. “They didn’t. I swear it.” Normally conversations were never this hard, her mother, though strict, had been and would always be a trusted confidant for many a subject, but not all, and a parent she loved very much. Exhaustion crept up on Tabitha as she bent down to right her fallen chair back on its four legs, sitting on it, and slumping. She was tired; the conversation was sapping her energy. How could she explain to her mother what happened on the Kabrin? There was death, threats, and fear, she didn’t want to go into such details at that very moment, so Tabitha hoped to the gods her mother would drop the subject. “How can I trust you?” “You can, mom.” Tabitha replied hoarsely. “I just.. I just didn’t want to talk about it, things happened, but before it got messy.. The ..knights.. I think they were, rode in.” That was as much as she would relay to her mother right then, but now, for certain, her mother nodded, relieved her daughter was fine, traumatized possibly, but not hurt. Familiarity washed over Tabitha, her mother was concerned for her, and that warmed the young girl’s heart. “I can still..” She started but trailed off as her mother interrupted immediately. The stern look on her face brought a small upturn of Tabitha’s lips though it was quickly replaced with a concerned expression of her own right after. “I said, no, Tabitha.” Ceras began to explain, features softening with hints of fear. “You were lucky enough then, but by the gods, its unlikely you’ll get a second chance. I don’t want to lose you too..” No. No. Ceras started to break down again, Tabitha straightened up, and reached out to her mother’s frail hand and held it from across the table; Ceras’ found Tabitha’s gaze, wearily. Looking straight at her mother, worry setting in, as she would say to her mother what she would want to hear. “I won’t go, if you say so.”

[Tabitha Aryns]

oocI'm not happy with this post, I'll be editing it once I get another NPC approved. It was a constant back and forth battle, both Tabitha and Ceras’ energies were waning as the bell came to a slow end, beginning another anew. Stress was high, but was spiraling downhill to hit the ground with a devastating thud. They were two birds that had collided into each other mid flight, now falling, falling, and only a little tension had been released from the two bashing heads. There was still the apartment to be concerned about, the health hazards, and the older of the two’s dwindling health. Ironically the both of them had been avoiding the one subject that ultimately mattered most: Job Aryns. Recently deceased father to Tabitha Aryns, and husband to Ceras Aryns, whose ashes now remained in a small black urn just waiting to be finally, truly, put to rest. Laughter. Or, rather a soft chuckling that was coming from Ceras, filled with disbelief, anguish, but oddly also with amusement. Eyes still tear laden, brimming past the rims as she laughed, speaking as she did so. “We both are avoiding the real s-subject of importance.” Her mouth twisted from frowns to smiles, unable to contain the sorrow ladled giggles. “Job.” Tabitha didn’t tense this time, only nodded, she hadn’t wanted to bring her father up with her mother in this state but it was an unavoidable subject- it was either now, or never. “I am..” She started quietly, not wanting to beat around the bush much longer, she had things to do, and one of those things was to bring order back to her mother’s apartment. “I would like to know what happened too, mom.” Tabby asked without letting go of her mother’s hand, trying to maintain a comforting presence for the older woman, she needed to be comforting. “You.. Didn’t explain very well in the letter.” Maybe it was too much to ask for, to know what exactly happened, and wouldn’t blame her mother if they went off on another tense verbal match because of her own lack of tact. “I wish you wouldn’t have come, Tabitha, wish you would have had the common sense to stay in Zeltiva.. I.. I..” Ceras went off on a tangent, her other hand going to rub one of her crinkled temples. “Your father was dying, and, I just, I just wanted you to be here, maybe you would have been able to coax more from him. But..” The older wheezed, taking both hands away to shield her mouth as she coughed, drained, much like Tabitha was now, but Tabitha wouldn’t be allowed to rest. Not then, and neither in the coming days. Without so much as thinking about it, Tabitha went to her mother’s side and coaxed the older woman up, supporting her, and guiding her to the bed. “I regretted sending that letter.. You.. You.. I thought you died, because I knew, I knew Tabitha you would come, but I.. I was so selfish.” “I sacrificed your safety, for my selfish needs--” Ceras near wailed, before breaking out into another coughing fit. Laying down in the bed weakly upon her daughter’s nudging. “Well.” Tabitha started off, wishing to ease her mother’s mind. “I’m here now, and I’m still alive, isn’t that what matters?” Still, they couldn’t get to the real problem at hand. Her mother had mentioned coaxing more out of her father. Had there been something he wanted to say, but could not, because Tabitha hadn’t been there? The thought was incredibly gut wrenching, mayhaps she would have been able to prevent her mother from falling into such depravity if she had only come with them to Syliras. Yet, then Amanda would not had survived. How could she have known that such a choice would lead to either her best friend’s possible death, and her now, already dead father? Would she have even been able to stop it from happening anyways?