Emalia sat in the middle of the herb garden, smelling each of the plants that grew around her. Only days before she had been with no one but herself, the idle chit-chat of strangers, and her books. Today, she was a Crimson Guardian. She took in a deep breath and smiled to herself while she looked over the insignia she wore. It seemed like a dream.
Fizz trotted up to her, nudging her shoulder with a nickering whinny, snapping Emalia from her reverie. "Oh my newest friend, what is it you desire?" A snort tickled Emalia's cheek as she was again nudged. "A carrot. Coming right up." Emalia rose to her feet, chanting a quick line for a quick treat. She smiled deeply as Fizz tossed the carrot into the air, only to chomp down on it and hop away like a colt.
Emalia felt automatically at home, marginally concerned that she had still not heard from her family, save her Uncle Sandorin, who had vanished again from her life. She sat again in the herbs, her mind drifting from her travel to Westbridge, to her journey into the Guardians, then to the events of the day. Immediately, a frown crossed her features.
Emalia knew she was born with abilities different from many. Her mother made sure she knew it - when she wasn't talking to herself - but Emalia wasn't quite sure what they were. She had harmed Elbryan with a simple spell, but couldn't place a finger on why or even how. Holding back a few tears, Emalia bit her lip, her pride stinging as she thought of exactly how she felt like such a failure. She'd harmed someone...
A deep neigh wrested her from her thoughts and a sense of calm flooded her. Fizz stared at her with deep brown eyes - already she could feel a connection with him. "Another?" She stood again, repeating her earlier incantation, and shook her head with a grin as Fizz repeated his.
In the quiet of the gardens, Emalia centered herself deciding that the silence would allow her to read. Certain that Fizz was finally contented, she slipped another violet-bound tome from her pack. By any sense she was a quick reader, it only taking her a day to pour through the thick volumes. She began in again reading through Cyric's past, pushing all her thoughts of home, family, and failure to the side. The texts flowed with detail, almost vividly leaping from the page. Emalia was so mesmerized that even Fizz's insistent nudges did nothing to rouse her.
Seeking Emalia
Sanria let out a long, deep sigh. She had now been in Westbridge for two days, and no one had seen Emalia. She was sure to leave a small note for Thasmudyan, letting him know where she had gone. There was not going to be a repeat in the disappearing act again. She had begged him, in fact, simply to stay home and let her handle it, to allow her to search for their daughter while he stayed safe in the cavern. It was harder than she imagined it would be.
She had stopped in to get a cup of coffee when she met Koniev. Though she had intended to drink her caffeine while she walked, Sanria ended up sitting and listening to the young man's tale. She couldn't imagine what Koniev had endured, any more than she could imagine all that Sandorin had endured, and toward the end of the conversation, she had discovered exactly how she had made Emalia feel... overlooked and unimportant.
Sanria decided to take Koniev's suggestion and post a bulletin in the middle of Market Square, and to the sides of all the buildings she could. Hastily, she scrawled out a missive and rushed to the paperboy. "I need to see your boss. Where is he?" It shocked her to see the boy recoil from her, clutching the papers to his chest. "Take it easy, lady... I don't have coin." "What?" "Quit begging." "Begging?" "I know your type, you can't have a free paper, and you can't have my money." "No no, I'm looking for my daughter."
The paperboy eyed her for a moment, relaxing only slightly. "Does she look like you?" "A little," Sanria nodded, "yes." "Does she need a change of clothes just as bad?" Sanria stood up, glancing to the ground in shock. "Never mind... t-thank you."
The paperboy merely shrugged, falling right back into his sales pitch, though still clutching the papers to his chest, as Sanria wandered away. Before, she might have asked Catrina for help, but having been so long gone, nothing seemed the same.
It was a quick walk to the pub, the one place she felt none would stare at her for her dingy clothing, and even faster to find an empty table near the corner. Amidst the din of drunkards, Sanria began the task of making flyers-hundreds of them.
She had stopped in to get a cup of coffee when she met Koniev. Though she had intended to drink her caffeine while she walked, Sanria ended up sitting and listening to the young man's tale. She couldn't imagine what Koniev had endured, any more than she could imagine all that Sandorin had endured, and toward the end of the conversation, she had discovered exactly how she had made Emalia feel... overlooked and unimportant.
Sanria decided to take Koniev's suggestion and post a bulletin in the middle of Market Square, and to the sides of all the buildings she could. Hastily, she scrawled out a missive and rushed to the paperboy. "I need to see your boss. Where is he?" It shocked her to see the boy recoil from her, clutching the papers to his chest. "Take it easy, lady... I don't have coin." "What?" "Quit begging." "Begging?" "I know your type, you can't have a free paper, and you can't have my money." "No no, I'm looking for my daughter."
The paperboy eyed her for a moment, relaxing only slightly. "Does she look like you?" "A little," Sanria nodded, "yes." "Does she need a change of clothes just as bad?" Sanria stood up, glancing to the ground in shock. "Never mind... t-thank you."
The paperboy merely shrugged, falling right back into his sales pitch, though still clutching the papers to his chest, as Sanria wandered away. Before, she might have asked Catrina for help, but having been so long gone, nothing seemed the same.
It was a quick walk to the pub, the one place she felt none would stare at her for her dingy clothing, and even faster to find an empty table near the corner. Amidst the din of drunkards, Sanria began the task of making flyers-hundreds of them.
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