Solo [The Kabrin Road] Letting Go

[Katelyn Marks]

88th, Spring, 515 AV

The road was relatively empty today aside from light traffic between the Outpost and main city. Although she was already a mile south, the squire had only passed a few wagons and riders. Garrison was glad for the space to stretch his legs without distraction or interruption, and his quick canter had an energetic spring in each long stride. The air was growing warmer as summer heralded closer, and the wind through the trees helped to cool the heat of the sun on her face. The road ahead curled gently to the left all the way to the Outpost, but she didn't plan on riding out to the fields. A ten mile round trip would be plenty to burn some of the Tiaden's wild energy, so at the fifth roadside marker she would turn back.

Katelyn could see the second cairn ahead after several more chimes--ancient and weathered by the elements. As they neared it she drew in her stallion's reins and leaned back deeper into her saddle's seat, both a cue to slow down. She gave and took with the reins, alternating between pressure on her mouth and a release so that he couldn't fight through the command and keep charging. His gait eased into a quick trot, and with a few soft words from his rider he slowed a little further into a jog that could be kept up indefinitely. The warhorse's two miles of canter had worked up a light lather, and his thick black neck shone with a sheen of sweat.

She would keep him going at this easy pace for another mile, then let him walk two. At the fifth cairn they could stop and rest, then be on their way back again, renewed and ready to take on the last leg. Her hips rocked from side to side with his heavy sway, and the sharp slap of his hooves on the hard-packed road lulled her in a way that was growing familiar. Her lessons in meditation were becoming a daily practice, and the redhead was finding new everyday triggers to help her empty her thoughts. It was as simple as listening for certain rhythms around her, like the clop of hooves in this case. It helped that his smooth gait was something akin to a rocking chair.

Paired with Garrison's steady hoofbeats, Kate was rocked like a baby into a slight trance with just a little help of regulated breathing. Curious as always and eager to practice, the squire took this opportunity to tap into her djed, allowing the flow of energy to focus in her eyes and open the doorway to auras. As colors bloomed all around her, the trace broke and broadened her focus once more. Kate was careful to block any sensations from the auras themselves--she didn't see anything too interesting to warrant investigation--and so focused simply on the colors.

[Katelyn Marks]

It seemed that even simple things like trees, though their auras weren't as dominant of that of an animal or humanoid, had different colors between them--different qualities and aspects that created individual aspects in their djed. She saw a massive old oak tree with an aura the color of sunlight and honey, then beside it a maple ringed with the color of blood. Further along there was a young ash tree surrounded by a pale violet aura, and a crab apple that pulsed with blues like a coastal sky.

Katelyn's face hurt from smiling by the time they'd made it to mile three, and as she slowed Garrison to a walk decided to dive a little deeper. Beneath her, the Tiaden's aura swirled and writhed like a living thing. It was a cloud the color of molten gold--something one would see in a foundry--and smelled of freshly harvested grass hay. She had a feeling that if she could touch it and test its texture, it would be the consistency of magma, though only warm like a bath, always radiating some kind of heat. The taste of it was like rich earth, with a hint of sweat. She knew him well enough now that gauging an emotion wasn't too hard, but she had to dive a little deeper into the colors to really find it.

He was relaxed and eager, but that could be learned simply through body language. No, as for emotions he was happy. The stallion enjoyed being out in the open air more than almost anything. When he was cooped up in a stall, he felt suffocated. He had a lot of energy to burn on a daily basis, and keeping it pent up in tightly coiled muscles drove him mad. Now that he had Katelyn to ride it out of him, he wasn't nearly as destructive or volatile as he had once been.

She severed the connection there, and the world snapped back to its normal hues. It was almost drab in comparison, but her vision quickly readjusted. Kate was left with a dull throbbing behind her eyes--consequences a novice like herself were rewarded with. Overgiving was becoming a familiar thing. Katelyn hadn't ever experienced more than a severe migraine, and things were only becoming easier each time. The effects were less and less, and compared to the first time she'd used Auristics, this headache was nothing more than a slight annoyance.

Once they stopped for their break, she would eat and drink and replenish some of the energy she'd lost. Kate suspected it would be enough to restore what she'd used, and in turn relieve the headache.

[Katelyn Marks]

They were still a ways from the fourth cairn when Garrison's body language visibly changed. It was gradual at first--a simple perk of the ears and raise of his head--then sudden. His muscles tightened, and he surged forward against the bit, jerking her arms and startling her with the ferocity of his takeoff. She fought hard for control as he broke into an eager canter, and only after several meters could Kate finally wrestle him back into a slow trot, though he strained hard with ever step.

"What is wrong with you?" she growled, feeling her arms flex with the effort of holding the massive beast at bay. The squire's legs were hard against the stallion's girth, knees gripping him--screaming through the silent body language shared between horse and rider for him to cease. It wasn't long after that though when she heard what had thrown the Tiaden into such a fit. His keen ears had picked up the wails before hers had. It was still distant, and rose above the sighing of wind through the trees bordering the road like the haunting call of a wolf. Katelyn's gut twisted, and the hair rose on the back of her neck. It was no wolf.

"Get!" the squire ordered, and drove her heels into the stallion's black flanks. He lunged forward like an arrow from a bow, leaping off of powerful back legs into a wild gallop. The ferocity of his charge ripped the breath from her lungs and her body nearly entirely from the saddle. Katelyn clung hard to his mane, tangling her fingers with two tight fistfuls, and held fast with her thighs, giving him his head and all the road he needed. The sound of hammering hooves drowned out all else, making their distance from the cries of fright unknown. While Katelyn was unaware of who or what she was riding into, the violent volume of Garrion's approach left no room for stealth.

As the road bent south and finally she caught sight of the distress in the distance, the bandits to blame were ready and waiting. A wagon had been overturned near the edge of the road, and a trio of horses waited nearby. One held a rider, and another man was dismounted, with three bodies crowded at his feet. Another lay a few feet away, prone on the ground.

[Katelyn Marks]

Katelyn had no idea what she was doing. The squire had just dove into the deep end without even testing the temperature of the water, and the situation threatened to drown her instantly. She reined in her stallion hard, and his hooves slid across the ground, digging for purchase as he scrambled against her sudden desperate command. She could see everything clearly now before her, and tried to make the connections in her head quickly. There were two bandits that she could see. Both men, the one mounted, and the other--he had a wicked looking dagger pressed up under the jaw of the woman at his feet.

Two children who Kate assumed were her's clung to the woman's dusty skirts, tears staining their cheeks and eyes wide with terror. Another man lay by the edge of the road with a arrow buried in his back. He was face down in a pool of blood that glistened in the sunlight, unmoving. The squire could feel the color drain from her cheeks, and bile rise in her throat. She smelled the metallic odor of his blood in the air, and Garrison nickered nervously from the stench of fresh death. His skittered back uncertainly, eyes rolling in his head, but Katelyn drew a tight rein and shushed him quietly, her voice wavering in fear.

"No need to come any closer," the man with the knife warned, his voice strong and clear across the gap between them. The other brigand had a bow laying across his lap, watching her in silence. He had a pair of horses in tow, one saddled and the other was a short painted draft, harnessed for the wagon that had been overturned. Murder, horse theft--they were on a roll. What had she been thinking? She was alone, although fully armored. She was too paranoid not to be, and partnered with the warhorse she was riding, it was obvious what she was. The Windoak was sewn onto the front of her squire's tunic, and etched into her leather bracers.

"This is a private business venture. I obviously don't expect you to understand. But seeing as how there are two of us, one of you, and my friend there is a good shot... what I do expect is for you to cooperate." Katelyn's silence was heavy, and as her heart pumped icy adrenalin through her veins, she felt a sudden itch to grab the bow in its scabbard attached to Garrison's saddle and trying her luck. But though her fingers twitched and itched, she kept them tightly on the reins, holding the stallion at bay. Tears ran down the woman's cheeks and her eyes pleaded, searching Katelyn's pale face.

[Katelyn Marks]

"So, we'll be taking your weapons and your horse. Be a good girl and get down?" They didn't seem to be in the mood to see if she could comply though, because the mounted man climbed out of the saddle, came around to her side, and ripped her right out of her seat. Garrison reared back in fright, striking out with his front hooves, and Katelyn curled into a ball to protect herself from his legs. The bandit cursed loudly, fleeing backwards before he could attempt to grab the stallion's reins. From her defensive position on the ground, arms wrapped around her head, she heard the clatter of hooves on the road as her Tiaden fled, followed closely by the man's boots as he pursued.

"Stop! Don't waste your time Jon. The damn thing is gone." He sighed, and threw the frightened mother in his arms into the dirt. Her children crowded around her protectively, feeling her face and hugging her tightly as she wept in silence. The man was obviously in charge, and when she finally uncovered her head she saw him standing over her, dagger in hand. Before she could react, he stooped to grab a fistful of her hair, using it as an anchor to drag her up to her feet. Kate gasped and scrabbled at his arms, tears stinging her face. Through some instinct awakened by her fear and adrenalin, the squire felt a strange liquid leak from her eyes.

It held the consistency of gel, running slowly down her cheeks like warm honey. She saw the bandit's grimy face loom before hers, a scar twisting up the side of his mouth in a jagged, lopsided grin. He was missing half of his left ear, and dressed in mismatched armor. "What the fuck is that?" he asked, jerking her head for emphasis. Katelyn could feel the gel on her lips now, but it had no taste. She could feel it though in the same way she felt her Djed, and realized after a few desperate breaths that it was actually her Res.

Despite her situation, Katelyn smiled, feeling a sudden surge of bravery. If she couldn't defend herself against two lowly criminals and protect the very people she was tasked to guard, the redhead had no right being a squire. She'd made it this far, and just a few days prior been initiated into Reimancy. Kate had survived the agony of the ritual, and her body was using its new tool in attempt to defend itself. She was stronger than these men, and finally had a chance to prove that to herself.

Katelyn licked the Res from her lips, pooling the tasteless gel in her mouth. With a snarl, she spat the purple substance into the brigand's eye. He reared back in disgust and anger, letting go of her in the process of trying to clear his vision. "What is this shyke?!" he yelled, but the redhead was on him in an instant, tackling him to the ground and pinning his armed hand to the road. Her first transmutation after the initiation had been an instinctive thing. The element she had harnessed came automatically--earth. She willed the same results again now. It seeped from the fingers clamped like vices around his wrists, and the squire summoned the stone through her force of will.

[Katelyn Marks]

Her Res stretched and pulsed, reaching for purchase against his skin, and oozed across the ground. Katelyn felt the earth underneath the purple substance, and called to it with a desperate ferocity. Suddenly the Res twitched as if shocked, and crackled across the surface, hardening and stiffening, but it was awkward and uncertain. The stone crumbled as they struggled, unable to stay solid, and broke into a fine gravel. The squire snarled in frustration as the bandit beneath her grew frantic. "Magic!" he exclaimed in fear, and suddenly found his strength once more. His hips bucked, sending her sideways. She scrabbled at him desperately, not wanting to give him a chance to turn the tide.

He was stronger than her though, physically at least, and she quickly found him on top of her. Katelyn screamed defiantly, clawing at his face. He punched her hard across the jaw, and for a moment she saw nothing but blinding white. When her vision came to, she saw sunlight glint across the blade of his dagger as it flashed toward her. Driven by adrenaline and an icy fear deep inside her belly, she grabbed his wrist in both her hands and pushed. The man's full weight was bearing down on her, and centimeter by centimeter the long knife came closer to her throat.

Kate's mind was working in overdrive, trying to think of some way out. Suddenly, she made a reach for her Djed again and willed it out, forcing the physical substance from her skin. Her hands were sore and torn again--the thin cuts on her hands given by her patron just a few days ago bleeding steadily once more. But it gave an easy exit for her Res--a familiar one--the place it had manifested after her initiation. It sought the wounds and leaked through, thick and glistening, climbing around her attacker's wrists like creeping vines. Teeth gritted, he pushed harder, fearful of the purple substance. "You fucking bitch!" he snarled, and spat in her face like she had his.

Furious and afraid, the squire gave one last hard push, giving all of her energy to the retaliation and to her Res. It reacted like the snap of a whip, suddenly leaping and spiking, hardening and sharpening into a point. The stone spear burst through flesh and between the bones of his wrists, out the other side, glistening red with blood in the sunlight. They both looked at it with a mixture of horror and morbid amazement as the dagger fell from his now useless fingers. After a few short ticks, he seemed to register the pain and finally reared back, clutching the new hole in his wrists with an agonized scream.

Katelyn could taste his blood in her mouth and feel the warmth of it on her face. Her body shook as she rolled over on to all fours, taking a short moment to catch her breath. The bandit was curled up on the road behind her, tearfully cursing in pain. Despite the grotesque struggle, Kate found herself smiling. She saw the woman and her children huddled by the wagon, eyes wide and faces pale as snow. The squire wanted to reassure them, but no words came to her. As she struggled to her feet she grabbed the man's discarded dagger, panting and sighing, slowly steadying the pounding of her heart.