Finally uploaded the next chapter. Again, this one isn't so long, but that's more to do with the fact that this was meant to be a more stand-alone moment anyway. There's still no combat though, which I'm annoyed about, but there's some coming- I swear!
Well, enjoy regardless!
Colwyn was very much how he remembered Izoold: a small port with few buildings, focusing mainly on fishing than anything else. There were three docks, two small wooden ones for local fishing boats, and a larger one built from stone where a boat was currently docked and unloading. Luggage was being piled up next to the gangplank letting travellers down onto the dock, what few people there were for this small port gathering their possessions and quickly dispersing, whilst others stayed nearby on a small group of benches until departure.
But despite all the commotion by the boat the village itself was very quiet, almost sleepy, with the gentle lapping of waves audible from anywhere within its boundaries. Wrapped closely by forest it was well secluded, rocky hills to the east hiding Iselia from sight, and the vast ocean between them and the northern continent surrounded the rest of the small spit of land. As he made his way along the well-walked paths of Colwyn Kratos was wary of the curious looks he was getting, but wasn't bothered by it: the residents didn't seem to get many visitors beyond the port, and a few inquisitive glances were only natural if a stranger was walking down the street.
He was headed south towards the forest. The further through Colwyn he went, the sparcer the houses became, until only one or two stone buildings were left near the border of the woods. Small fields had been fenced off and were occupied by sheep and a few cows, but beyond that there were only trees. It wasn't a dense forest by any means, the light filtering through the branches enough to make out an old trail between the trunks and giving it a much more pleasant and welcoming air than the last one he'd visited. Jumping the fences he made his way down the old pathway- it was a little overgrown, but seemed to still be in use, a smattering of different footprints visible in the few patches of dirt between the young grass.
Making his way wasn't difficult, as the path went on for a while, but he was doubtful it would lead him to where he was heading for. That path had always been from Iselia, and unless someone else was living there and going to Colwyn frequently enough to make this tiny track he was sure it would stop short, and he'd have to find his way from there on by himself. But then again, it had been three hundred years: it was perfectly within reason that someone else would be occupying the wooden house in Iselia Forest, and if Colwyn was closer the path would make sense. He couldn't see anything between the trees yet. Maybe the port was further than he'd realised.
Ahead of him the trees thinned, the gentle trickling of a stream reaching his ears, but still no house. He slowed down as his feet met stone, and stared.
The clearing surrounded a grassy patch on the other side of the tiny river, patchy with dirt in some areas but otherwise flat and flourishing. Close to where Kratos was standing an old bench was situated, green with moss and falling apart, with a small mound of old rocks hidden behind it just as equally coloured. Amongst the grass was the occasional old wooden plank, what was left of a small pen collapsing with age as its roof sloped to the ground, no wall left to hold it up any more. Over at the other side were three tall stones, where a familiar girl with rose pink hair was sat in the grass, curled up with her knees to her chest as she stared at the grave before her.
Hopping across the stream Kratos walked towards Valanoir, his eyes drawn to the small amount of debris left that had been reclaimed by nature over the years, and at the sound of his footsteps she turned around. She looked surprised to see him, and rose to her feet with a sad smile.
"You come to see, too?" she asked, brushing herself off as she gestured to the three graves. With a vague nod he stared at them, brow furrowed. He wasn't sure what else he'd expected: crossing his arms, all he could do was stare. All three were overgrown and weathered, any writing they had faded and hidden beneath slime and moss. "Heroes 'Lloyd the Great' and 'Lady Colette', yeah? Mama told me they were buried here a long time ago: people at Colwyn and Iselia come and pay respects, but not many people know 'bout it. Don't know third grave though."
Sighing softly her dark eyes scanned the graves' faces a second time, her voice poignant to match her unhappy features. "Was a house here, but burnt down long ago. Mama told me what she knew of the story, right here, when we were going to Colwyn. Don't remember what happened after, but 'round then I started living with mama and papa Dewight. Taught me human language- well, best they can, yeah?" she chuckled softly, before looking up at Kratos again with a slightly happier smile. "Glad I can see them- the graves, I mean. They fight for equality before I was born, and I'm happy because of them. Sam too: half elves still live hard, but he seems happy."
"The Eques still capture half elves and part demons: can you really say that's 'equality'?" Kratos answered, still focused on the green stone slabs. Valanoir nodded defiantly.
"Because of heroes, people like me not so afraid! Mama met my real papa when she was travelling: her mama always afraid of going near humans, 'cause she lived back when laws were harsher, but my mama went anyway and was happy!" There was incredible pride in her voice as she spoke of her mother, her hands planted once again on her hips as she beamed. "Me, mama, papa, and my sister- down near Palmacosta. If heroes hadn't worked so hard for equality, mama would never be happy, and I wouldn't be here!"
Her positive words were enough to bring the slightest of smiles to Kratos' lips. Even three hundred years later, there was such pride when 'Lloyd the Great' was mentioned.
"But the Eques..." With a gentle ring she lowered her hands back to her sides, her gaze downcast towards the graves again. "...Don't like demons. Think them a 'dirty' species: dark creatures, working evil in shadows. We left Palmacosta when papa disappeared, and mama tried taking us to Flanoir. Safe there: no Eques. But we lost each other... My mama and Collarose..."
The twittering birds filled the silence that fell across the clearing, Valanoir's distant gaze now staring out amongst the green foliage that surrounded them. Not even the ocean could be heard from here: only the birds, the stream, and the gentle rustling of the branches.
"...Without Lloyd the Great, mama and papa Dewight would never have looked after me. Wouldn't even be here." With another gentle sigh she shook her head, before once again turning to look at Kratos. "Eques ruin families, but I'm still happy. Sam is still happy, though he's ill. Want to help him, I do: he's special." She was grinning now, bearing small elongated canines at him.
With a polite nod and a pleasant farewell Valanoir soon disappeared back down the path they'd initially walked up, leaving Kratos with the three graves. The two positioned on the left were new- well, less old than the one to the right, the shape of which he recognised almost instantly despite his absence. It was impossible to forget, especially under the circumstances under which he'd first seen it, and despite its age it had survived the years well. Kneeling before it he scraped what he could of the grime and moss off, revealing a pattern that had almost worn away completely, and a very faded name carved into the upper part of the stone. His fingers traced the shallow, almost-invisible grooves: Anna.
Okay, it's a little sappy too, but I wanted to set up Valanoir a little better too. Now, you see that clicky thing down there? Reviews are good!