41st of Winter, 515 AV
10th Bell
10th Bell
The storm clouds had rolled away days ago and the city had moved but the lingering smolder of ash and death left behind by the raiders was still clinging to the Drykas. It was no secret or surprise that the Watch had been doubling and tripling patrols. The men and women who swore to protect Tent City had been decimated throughout their ranks by the attacks but had no problem finding scores of temporary volunteers to help fill the void. There was little coercion needed to gain this much needed aid. Most of those with a cowardly persuasion were no longer alive to hide behind their excuses. For a particular band of warriors, the concept had saddened but not slowed them down. Each of the four men sat astride their mounts with blood caked on their weapons and armor. Two of the men; a large man and a giant, had scalps hanging from their yvas bags.
There was an older man among them and rode up between his beastly comrades. He signed that they should scout the web then rode up a bit to rejoin the fourth member. Azmere received the order and dismounted Hephiestian. He sat down in the chest-high grass with his back resting against the legs of his strider. The old stallion was used to this and held still creating a good backrest for his companion. The huge man known as Lodai Windcaller nodded to the archer and took up a position of defense around his fellow Watchman. His dark eyes watched the grasses while Azmere closed his contrasting gaze and began to relax. It only took a moment for the man to commit to his out of body experience. The djed within him took on his awareness and shifted into the realm of the Web. He used lines of djed and conscious thoughts to travel in a criss-cross pattern over the area venturing further and further away from his party. There was nothing around them for quite some distance but he eventually came across a lone figure. The knot attached to her body indicated that she was Drykas. Azmere knew he had to report this so he took note of a unique cluster of bushes arranged in an arc nearby. A woman of his people should not be wandering out on her own and this marker would help him find her.
He took hold of old djed line that looked like it was in need of some attention. Before he returned to his people, the Watchman knelt over the dimly lit strand and concentrated on his being. Soft blue orbs of djed began to pool in his open palms. Small as beans at first, each began to grow as more and more djed was gathered. Azmere waited until each orb was the size of a child’s skull then he pushed his left hand down onto the old piece of web. His djed was absorbed in a slow flash that gradually dimmed as the magic was transferred along the strand giving it a more vibrant glow. He repeated the process with his right hand and when he was finished, the line was humming with fresh life and a light blue twinkle. Satisfied with his work, the webber took hold of his ticket back to the world and directed the thought of his resting body into fruition. In a blink, he was standing near his physical self. Azmere settled into his relaxed form by sitting down on his lap. His eyes popped open and the Watchman stood then mounted his horse.
With a stern expression, he signed task to Lodai and the two men steered their beasts to rejoin the rest of their patrol. Once reunited, Azmere explained what he had found and was given leave to lead them to the wayward female. The archer dug his heels into the flanks of Hephiestian who responded quickly by setting off at a brisk pace. The horse was older than the rest so he was easy to follow but Azmere refused to push him aside. The pair had been together for such a long time that the Drykas refused to simply move on as others had suggested. Using his hands for balance and his legs for security, the rider leaned and shifted his weight allowing the yvas to adjust with his movements and giving direction to the old stallion. A rough stretch of rocky terrain was coming up and it would be hard on all of the horses. The watchman focused on the silhouette of a large tree far in the distance then squeezed his knees together and twisted his hips to steer his strider to the left. This placed the tree on his right and he kept it there for some time until they had reached the edge of the rough ground. Using a similar action as before, Azmere redirected his mount to the right which placed the tree back in line with the rider’s vision.
Feeling a sense of purpose, the archer tucked down tight to the yvas and used his body to coax the rolling motion of Hephiestian’s gallop. The more he urged the strider, the faster they went until the world became a blur on either side of the pair. The old horse instinctively tapped into the Web’s magic and connected his spirit to the djed around them. Light blue spots began to shine along the skeletal structure of the big stallion as he and his Drykas became nothing more than a blur to the patrol following behind. Ghosting was something Azmere had done several times and the feeling was indescribable. The wind in his face was so pure and unrestricted that Azmere could almost feel it through some of the finer scar lines on his face and neck; a sensation that gave him goosebumps. The Drykas knew they couldn’t get too far head so he slowly lifted his body up which not only let his horse know that it was time to slow down but also added drag which emphasized the order. Hephiestian responded accordingly and slowed to a trot under the careful and intentional actions of Azmere’s weathered hands. Looking over his shoulder, the watchmen could see his companions blazing to catch up but for now they were just beads on the horizon.
The Watchman turned back and stared ahead at the expanse of rolling grass and shrubs. His blue and gold orbs took in a great amount of detail. After several moments, he could see the bushes that had grown into an old oxbow near a decent-sized stream. That would explain the arc formation. He narrowed his gaze and clicked his tongue against his teeth twice. This sound urged the old stallion forward at a walk. Hephiestian was still breathing hard from the sprint but his strength could be felt by his human so there was no concern. When Azmere had reached a space of about fifty feet from the bushes, he stopped and waited for several chimes until his patrol caught up with him. The eldest among them came up next to Azmere and stared at the same bushes. He signed in Pavi with sure fingers a question about the girl’s whereabouts. Azmere responded with confirmation and then signed a suggestion. He wanted to go in on foot for the simple reason that he felt a patrol of horses might frighten the woman. After some knowing glances and a few brief signed exchanges, they agreed.
Azmere dismounted, removed his bow and club then placed them on his yvas. He extended his arms out to the sides to stretch his tight muscles. Riding and fighting all night was tiring but so was wearing armor; even leather like the bracers and chestpiece that the Watchman wore. He walked at a normal pace and did various stretches with his arms, back, torso and neck. Why not take advantage of the casual moment, right? As he got closer to the bushes, the archer spoke in a voice just above a whisper.
“Saiza. Saiza.” The man took slow steps and kept his center of gravity balanced. He also stopped performing various stretches and just walked. “Saiza, we’re here to take you home.”