Ymiden 31, 719
The redhaired woman walked down the gangplank of the Starchaser. She looked back over her shoulder at the ship. It was in such a disparate state. The sails were torn, boards were loose, the weapons broken or missing, ropes frayed and limp. The ship had barely made it through the terrible storms that had come through the ocean. The fall of Emea, the fall she had helped to cause, or rather, not prevent, had caused this ether storms. She wondered how bad they had ravaged the lands.
The guilt was heavy upon Red's heart.
Her hand floated to her chest, feeling the Trueheart mark there beneath it. She could feel Varlum, and she knew he would feel her as well. She could feel everything he felt, and vice versa, at all times. He'd been so serious during this journey, preparing for this war he'd sent her away from. She didn't wish to leave, but it did seem the best course of action.
And she missed him, and worried about him.
She wanted him here with her, in this foreign land, this place she'd never been to. She knew Immortals were openly despised and hated here, but she didn't know as to why. So, she knew she had to maintain her secret. Only those who were there to see her become an Immortal knew. No one else did, she was sure of it.
She felt the few coins left on her person, wondering what she was going to do now. She gave her forge to Laramy and his family, leaving it behind, again. Three forges lost in a single lifetime, and she was still young. Always starting over, always running away. Could she ever change that? Auya gripped her precious few coins, and began to think, began looking around. She was hungry, but that could wait. She needed to find a way to work. To make more money. To find a way to live. To do something. Anything.
So, there in her hooded cloak, her green dress, her leather boots, her metal tipped staff across her back, and her pack clenched in one hand, she looked around Foster's Landing, simply trying to see what was going on, and figure out what her newest, first step would be.
Note
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