Cerulean_Wings
First Post
Here's an update, in which a new character is introduced. This is not the Chekov's gun you're looking for, move along 
---
“Rise, Lifegiver Cassandra,” the Harbinger of Light said to the woman kneeling in front of him. She was dressed in the customary sky-blue robes of her order, decorated with silver runes on the seams, and a large symbol drawn on the back and the front.
She followed his command, and stood straight, hands clasped in front of her. Her long fiery hair was brushed elegantly and kept mostly hidden beneath the hood of her robe, and her azure eyes sparkled against the light of the temple’s braziers around her. Her face betrayed no emotion.
“I have decided with the other Harbingers that to atone for your heresy against the Goddess Eleynu, you must travel the world and offer your help to those in need,” the Harbinger said, his voice firm. “Only after twenty years of journeying will you be allowed to return to this sacred temple, and be forgiven for your sin.” Four other Harbingers stood behind him, dressed in robes identical to Cassandra’s, except of golden color, observing her in silence.
Cassandra stood, unmoving, listening to the high priest’s words like a statue. Only when the Harbinger finished by saying, “As part of your exile, you will be shunned from all temples. The will of Eleynu be done, Lifegiver Cassandra.”
“Her will be done,” Cassandra and everyone else in the room echoed with a bow. She turned around, facing the line of other Lifegivers present. They had all known her very well for many years, and they were all doing their best to hide their emotions behind a stony façade, but their efforts paled to Cassandra‘s. One Lifegiver, a young woman of age close to Cassandra’s, had misty eyes, and was trying not to blink.
Cassandra walked past them without a word, and once she left silence filled the temple. “Harbinger,” the teary eyed Lifegiver asked hesitantly, looking back to the exit and then to the Harbinger of Light. He nodded quickly, and she made a quick gesture of thanks as she dashed outside into the night.
“We are adjourned,” the Harbinger of Light declared, and everyone present went back to their duties, with a significant but subtle weight on their movements.
Cassandra walked outside the temple grounds, seemingly aimless, illuminated by nothing more than the torches spread evenly on the temple’s walls. Her steps made little sound on the stone paths she walked on, and there were very few people outside besides her. She had made her way to a beautiful ivory fountain, which had a statue of the Goddess in the center with her hands reaching for the sky, when a voice called her name from behind.
“Abigail,” Cassandra responded simply, sitting by the fountain. The Lifegiver turned her run into a walk gradually as she approached, and stopped right in front of Cassandra. The tears were falling freely down her cheeks now.
“Oh, Cass, why is this happening?” Abigail said, looking at her feet, fists clenched. “It’s not fair - you were just trying to do the right thing!”
Cassandra looked at her with empty eyes. “It matters not what’s fair or unfair, Abigail. Only the Goddess’ will matters,” she said, as if it should make everything crystal clear and simple. Abigail stared at her friend in disbelief.
“How-how can you say that, Cass? After all you’ve done for the temple and so many people, you-” Abigail said, her voice lowering to almost a whisper. “It’s not your fault. It can’t be. The Harbinger wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain things, but I’ll keep trying, just you wait,” she said in a firmer tone, nodding to herself. “Just you wait, Cass, I’ll make him reconsider this exile, and then you won’t have to leave.”
Cassandra’s answer came after a long wait, her gaze focused on the heavens above. “Don’t. Please, Abi, just let it be,” she said. Abigail sighed and took a seat next to her. “Her will be done. You can’t change what has already been decided. No one can. This is my punishment, and I will follow it accordingly.”
Abigail only listened and rested her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, sobbing quietly. Cassandra placed a hand on her friend’s head absently, staring at nothing in particular in front of her. Time passed uneventfully, and soon the only witnesses to their words were the shining stars.
“I don’t want you to leave for such a long time. I might not even be here after you return,” Abigail said softly. Cassandra sighed, “The world is a dangerous place outside the walls of this abbey, Abi. There are no guarantees - the Goddess may be merciful, but she can’t protect everyone all the time.”
Abigail’s hand gripped her robes fiercely, “I wish I could be as courageous as you, Cass,” she said.
“I’m not,” Cassandra thought but didn’t say. Instead, she whispered, “You’ll be alright. I know it might sound selfish, but Abi…” she said, her words trailing off. Abigail lifted her head from her shoulder and looked at her expectantly.
“Wait for me. If there’s at least one person here that wants be back, I think I can make it here after my exile is over.” Cassandra looked back at Abigail’s eyes, waiting for an answer.
Abigail gave her one in the form of a tight hug, and nothing needed to be said. With the heavens as their sole witness, they made a wordless promise.
---
The cabin was inhabited, that much I could guess. My concern was who exactly lived in there - friend or foe? I’m not afraid of any human, but if the owner was strong enough, he could flee to other humans and give me away. And I didn’t want that. So I sneaked as best as I could to the cabin, and made it to one wall with a window seemingly undetected. Pressing my ear against it I tried to listen for signs of life, and heard none. Hm. That didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone in there. I slowly raised my head to peer through the window, and managed to look inside the cabin.
It was pretty barren, filled with basic furniture, like a table, chairs, and a bed, all dirty looking. For that matter, the place was unkempt, which made me hope that it was abandoned. But one look at the simple hearth that was against a wall showed me that someone had used it recently - fires don’t start on their own inside cabins. There were all sorts of ragged and old clothes lying around the place as well, and I was about to make my way to the door when one of the clothes moved.
I blinked. It wasn’t just a cloth - an old man was wearing it, and he came under a pile of sheets, getting up from the ground slowly; I guessed he had fallen down by accident. I watched him move around the room with familiarity, coughing every now and then, his back slightly bent, trying to tidy things up a bit. He missed out several big spots even I could notice, so his efforts didn’t do much.
I was tired of just watching, and decided to push for a first encounter. So I walked to the rickety wooden door (which wasn’t quite as tall as me), and knocked as gently as I could. The old man’s voice replied after a moment, “Who is this?” in between coughs, and I heard his steps nearing the door. I tensed as he opened it and poked his head out first, glancing around, seeing nothing but me.
He had thin hair the color of snow covering most of his head like a skinny mane, his face wrinkled all over. What really caught my attention were his eyes: they were almost completely white. The old man was blind. How ironic that his curse was my blessing.
“Eh? Who is this, now?” he asked me, somehow looking at where my head was, three feet over him. I cleared my throat and told him my name. Twice. He didn’t have good ears, either. “Aghemer, eh? I’m Dan. Old man Dan, that’s how everyone ‘round this parts knows me. But you can call me Dan,” he said. His face twisted in confusion, and rubbed at his chin as he stared at my face. “What brings a big fella’ like you to my house?”
I shrugged and looked away from his scrutinizing gaze - his white eyes somewhat disturbed me. “Eye… loook fforr hoouuussse tooo rressst,” I explained at length, struggling to find the right words and making sense with them. He nodded after a moment, and I think he got the message right, because he responded with, “I don’t think I’ve enough space for ye here, Aghemer, but what the hell, if ye don’t mind crouching all the time, I don’t mind it either.” He jerked a skinny thumb over his shoulder and nodded, “Come right in, come right in.”
I was starting to believe that excessive naiveté was a cultural trait around this region, or I had been lucky enough to find all these senseless humans. I followed Dan inside, crouching to reduce my height by half, and then I had some breathing room between my head and the wooden ceiling. Dan moved around the cabin without a problem despite his blindness, that’s how familiar he was with the place. He must have lived here for a decade or more.
Dan gestured to the ground between a wall and his bed and started to drag sheets and clothes to that area. “Here, ye will be sleepin’ here, next to me. I hope ye don’t mind snorin’ at night; I’m like a stone rollin’ down a mountain, when I snore. Or at least that’s what my wife used to say, bless her soul,” he said without waiting for me to agree or disagree, which was just as well for the sake of my use of the human tongue.
“I’m goin’ off to get some food, now. Ye must be hungry, I’m bettin’. Don’t ye worry, I’m good at settin’ traps for animals to fall in. Ye just relax here, and I‘ll return soon enough.”
And with that he was gone. Good riddance, he talked too much. I lay down on the improvised bed on the ground next to his actual one, and it wasn’t too bad. I placed my sack nearby within easy reach, and relaxed. The hearth was still burning, and the sound of the small fire helped me relax. I didn’t fall asleep completely, for I hadn’t spent all that much energy, even with running away from the peasants and crossing that cursed river, but I managed to lay there in a state of nothingness.
The wooden door opened, and I jumped up in surprise. That was a mistake, for my head hit the ceiling, cracking a small section open. Dan came in frowning, with a basket of fruits and food under his arm. “Hey now, what are ye up to? Was that my roof breaking?” he asked a bit annoyed. I crouched down, looked at the damage, and shook my head. Dan stared at me inquisitively for an eternity, and then he shrugged.
“Must have been my imagination, then.” He placed down the basked on the table, making it shake a bit on unsteady legs, and sat down to eat. “Are ye gonna come and eat or what?”
I crawled next to him and made sure not to bump against anything else in my way. Then I looked outside the window: judging by the amount of light, night was approaching. How long had I rested for? I pushed the thought from my mind afterward and started eating what Dan brought. The surface fruits looked weird, but they were pretty tasty. Same for the animal meat he brought, which was something I hadn’t tried yet. He didn’t eat much, only one fruit, and not because I had practically swallowed whole half the basket under a minute. And even then I wasn’t full.
“Better, eh? Don’t worry about me, I barely eat nowadays. Now, if ye’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go to bed. Old man has to sleep early,” Dan said, and then did just that. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I went back to my improvised floor bed, and lay down. Dan’s comment about his snoring proved to be true, but I didn’t care. Minutes went by, and I stared at the ceiling, thinking of what I would do now that I had a temporary home. Eventually my thoughts started to come by slower and slower, and I felt myself drifting asleep once more. Just as well; I had nothing more to do.
As I slipped into the oblivion of sleep, I idly wondered where the old man had gotten the basket from.

---
“Rise, Lifegiver Cassandra,” the Harbinger of Light said to the woman kneeling in front of him. She was dressed in the customary sky-blue robes of her order, decorated with silver runes on the seams, and a large symbol drawn on the back and the front.
She followed his command, and stood straight, hands clasped in front of her. Her long fiery hair was brushed elegantly and kept mostly hidden beneath the hood of her robe, and her azure eyes sparkled against the light of the temple’s braziers around her. Her face betrayed no emotion.
“I have decided with the other Harbingers that to atone for your heresy against the Goddess Eleynu, you must travel the world and offer your help to those in need,” the Harbinger said, his voice firm. “Only after twenty years of journeying will you be allowed to return to this sacred temple, and be forgiven for your sin.” Four other Harbingers stood behind him, dressed in robes identical to Cassandra’s, except of golden color, observing her in silence.
Cassandra stood, unmoving, listening to the high priest’s words like a statue. Only when the Harbinger finished by saying, “As part of your exile, you will be shunned from all temples. The will of Eleynu be done, Lifegiver Cassandra.”
“Her will be done,” Cassandra and everyone else in the room echoed with a bow. She turned around, facing the line of other Lifegivers present. They had all known her very well for many years, and they were all doing their best to hide their emotions behind a stony façade, but their efforts paled to Cassandra‘s. One Lifegiver, a young woman of age close to Cassandra’s, had misty eyes, and was trying not to blink.
Cassandra walked past them without a word, and once she left silence filled the temple. “Harbinger,” the teary eyed Lifegiver asked hesitantly, looking back to the exit and then to the Harbinger of Light. He nodded quickly, and she made a quick gesture of thanks as she dashed outside into the night.
“We are adjourned,” the Harbinger of Light declared, and everyone present went back to their duties, with a significant but subtle weight on their movements.
Cassandra walked outside the temple grounds, seemingly aimless, illuminated by nothing more than the torches spread evenly on the temple’s walls. Her steps made little sound on the stone paths she walked on, and there were very few people outside besides her. She had made her way to a beautiful ivory fountain, which had a statue of the Goddess in the center with her hands reaching for the sky, when a voice called her name from behind.
“Abigail,” Cassandra responded simply, sitting by the fountain. The Lifegiver turned her run into a walk gradually as she approached, and stopped right in front of Cassandra. The tears were falling freely down her cheeks now.
“Oh, Cass, why is this happening?” Abigail said, looking at her feet, fists clenched. “It’s not fair - you were just trying to do the right thing!”
Cassandra looked at her with empty eyes. “It matters not what’s fair or unfair, Abigail. Only the Goddess’ will matters,” she said, as if it should make everything crystal clear and simple. Abigail stared at her friend in disbelief.
“How-how can you say that, Cass? After all you’ve done for the temple and so many people, you-” Abigail said, her voice lowering to almost a whisper. “It’s not your fault. It can’t be. The Harbinger wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain things, but I’ll keep trying, just you wait,” she said in a firmer tone, nodding to herself. “Just you wait, Cass, I’ll make him reconsider this exile, and then you won’t have to leave.”
Cassandra’s answer came after a long wait, her gaze focused on the heavens above. “Don’t. Please, Abi, just let it be,” she said. Abigail sighed and took a seat next to her. “Her will be done. You can’t change what has already been decided. No one can. This is my punishment, and I will follow it accordingly.”
Abigail only listened and rested her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, sobbing quietly. Cassandra placed a hand on her friend’s head absently, staring at nothing in particular in front of her. Time passed uneventfully, and soon the only witnesses to their words were the shining stars.
“I don’t want you to leave for such a long time. I might not even be here after you return,” Abigail said softly. Cassandra sighed, “The world is a dangerous place outside the walls of this abbey, Abi. There are no guarantees - the Goddess may be merciful, but she can’t protect everyone all the time.”
Abigail’s hand gripped her robes fiercely, “I wish I could be as courageous as you, Cass,” she said.
“I’m not,” Cassandra thought but didn’t say. Instead, she whispered, “You’ll be alright. I know it might sound selfish, but Abi…” she said, her words trailing off. Abigail lifted her head from her shoulder and looked at her expectantly.
“Wait for me. If there’s at least one person here that wants be back, I think I can make it here after my exile is over.” Cassandra looked back at Abigail’s eyes, waiting for an answer.
Abigail gave her one in the form of a tight hug, and nothing needed to be said. With the heavens as their sole witness, they made a wordless promise.
---
The cabin was inhabited, that much I could guess. My concern was who exactly lived in there - friend or foe? I’m not afraid of any human, but if the owner was strong enough, he could flee to other humans and give me away. And I didn’t want that. So I sneaked as best as I could to the cabin, and made it to one wall with a window seemingly undetected. Pressing my ear against it I tried to listen for signs of life, and heard none. Hm. That didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone in there. I slowly raised my head to peer through the window, and managed to look inside the cabin.
It was pretty barren, filled with basic furniture, like a table, chairs, and a bed, all dirty looking. For that matter, the place was unkempt, which made me hope that it was abandoned. But one look at the simple hearth that was against a wall showed me that someone had used it recently - fires don’t start on their own inside cabins. There were all sorts of ragged and old clothes lying around the place as well, and I was about to make my way to the door when one of the clothes moved.
I blinked. It wasn’t just a cloth - an old man was wearing it, and he came under a pile of sheets, getting up from the ground slowly; I guessed he had fallen down by accident. I watched him move around the room with familiarity, coughing every now and then, his back slightly bent, trying to tidy things up a bit. He missed out several big spots even I could notice, so his efforts didn’t do much.
I was tired of just watching, and decided to push for a first encounter. So I walked to the rickety wooden door (which wasn’t quite as tall as me), and knocked as gently as I could. The old man’s voice replied after a moment, “Who is this?” in between coughs, and I heard his steps nearing the door. I tensed as he opened it and poked his head out first, glancing around, seeing nothing but me.
He had thin hair the color of snow covering most of his head like a skinny mane, his face wrinkled all over. What really caught my attention were his eyes: they were almost completely white. The old man was blind. How ironic that his curse was my blessing.
“Eh? Who is this, now?” he asked me, somehow looking at where my head was, three feet over him. I cleared my throat and told him my name. Twice. He didn’t have good ears, either. “Aghemer, eh? I’m Dan. Old man Dan, that’s how everyone ‘round this parts knows me. But you can call me Dan,” he said. His face twisted in confusion, and rubbed at his chin as he stared at my face. “What brings a big fella’ like you to my house?”
I shrugged and looked away from his scrutinizing gaze - his white eyes somewhat disturbed me. “Eye… loook fforr hoouuussse tooo rressst,” I explained at length, struggling to find the right words and making sense with them. He nodded after a moment, and I think he got the message right, because he responded with, “I don’t think I’ve enough space for ye here, Aghemer, but what the hell, if ye don’t mind crouching all the time, I don’t mind it either.” He jerked a skinny thumb over his shoulder and nodded, “Come right in, come right in.”
I was starting to believe that excessive naiveté was a cultural trait around this region, or I had been lucky enough to find all these senseless humans. I followed Dan inside, crouching to reduce my height by half, and then I had some breathing room between my head and the wooden ceiling. Dan moved around the cabin without a problem despite his blindness, that’s how familiar he was with the place. He must have lived here for a decade or more.
Dan gestured to the ground between a wall and his bed and started to drag sheets and clothes to that area. “Here, ye will be sleepin’ here, next to me. I hope ye don’t mind snorin’ at night; I’m like a stone rollin’ down a mountain, when I snore. Or at least that’s what my wife used to say, bless her soul,” he said without waiting for me to agree or disagree, which was just as well for the sake of my use of the human tongue.
“I’m goin’ off to get some food, now. Ye must be hungry, I’m bettin’. Don’t ye worry, I’m good at settin’ traps for animals to fall in. Ye just relax here, and I‘ll return soon enough.”
And with that he was gone. Good riddance, he talked too much. I lay down on the improvised bed on the ground next to his actual one, and it wasn’t too bad. I placed my sack nearby within easy reach, and relaxed. The hearth was still burning, and the sound of the small fire helped me relax. I didn’t fall asleep completely, for I hadn’t spent all that much energy, even with running away from the peasants and crossing that cursed river, but I managed to lay there in a state of nothingness.
The wooden door opened, and I jumped up in surprise. That was a mistake, for my head hit the ceiling, cracking a small section open. Dan came in frowning, with a basket of fruits and food under his arm. “Hey now, what are ye up to? Was that my roof breaking?” he asked a bit annoyed. I crouched down, looked at the damage, and shook my head. Dan stared at me inquisitively for an eternity, and then he shrugged.
“Must have been my imagination, then.” He placed down the basked on the table, making it shake a bit on unsteady legs, and sat down to eat. “Are ye gonna come and eat or what?”
I crawled next to him and made sure not to bump against anything else in my way. Then I looked outside the window: judging by the amount of light, night was approaching. How long had I rested for? I pushed the thought from my mind afterward and started eating what Dan brought. The surface fruits looked weird, but they were pretty tasty. Same for the animal meat he brought, which was something I hadn’t tried yet. He didn’t eat much, only one fruit, and not because I had practically swallowed whole half the basket under a minute. And even then I wasn’t full.
“Better, eh? Don’t worry about me, I barely eat nowadays. Now, if ye’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go to bed. Old man has to sleep early,” Dan said, and then did just that. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I went back to my improvised floor bed, and lay down. Dan’s comment about his snoring proved to be true, but I didn’t care. Minutes went by, and I stared at the ceiling, thinking of what I would do now that I had a temporary home. Eventually my thoughts started to come by slower and slower, and I felt myself drifting asleep once more. Just as well; I had nothing more to do.
As I slipped into the oblivion of sleep, I idly wondered where the old man had gotten the basket from.