Chapter Four: The glass isn't always clear...

Mourn for those who passed, but do not linger on it.
They are far happier and wouldn't wish you to ever be sad.
Honor them by being happy and everything that you can be.
Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when her favorite hunting dog passed away.

Teirra couldn't afford to die her clothing black in mourning. It wasn't money that held her back from doing it; her father had died all his clothing black, even his silks and velvets. It was her well being. She needed her clothing to blend with her surrounding and black would just stand out far too much. Besides, she couldn't afford to be constantly reminded how much her mother's death hurt. She was forced, however by the maids, to wear a black overcoat at the funeral.

It was an unhappily beautiful day with hardly a cloud in sight. The sun bore down in its usual late summer heat; its last before the fall breezes rolled in. There was hardly a breeze to cool them and Teirra found that she didn't care; she was much too numb.

Her mother had requested to be burned in the middle of the lake on Ninequor's northern most territory. It was her favorite spot to disappear to. So, the family, household, men-at-arms, and Riders stood on one shore of the lake with several of the best archers, Teirra included, ready with arrows lit in fire.

Her mother had looked beautiful in her best dress of emerald green silk, the one Teirra often envied, and tiny white flowers in her ebony hair. She looked like a queen; a pale, ghostly queen.

The Captain of the house guards raised his hand, signally the archers. Then he turned to Teirra, who would fire the first shot. "When you're ready, my lady."

She would never be ready for this moment, she reflected. This was her mother. This would make her death real and final. She wasn't coming back. Teirra took a deep breathe and let it out shakily.

A hand gently rested on her shoulder and glanced back at Opion. "She'll always be with you."

She looked at him, then his hand as it slipped off her shoulder. She refocused and let the arrow fly, watching only to make sure it would hit its target before looking away.

Teirra let the bow fall uselessly from her fingers to thud on the packed ground beneath them. She turned on her heel and started to stalk off. She had had enough of this sight for a life-time.

As she walked by her father, he caught her arm. "It is honorable to want revenge," he whispered to her, "but it is not honorable to go and get it. Do your job and honor your job, but do it, don't extend it to revenge."

"I'll do what I must, father. I'm sorry." She told him.

Lord Dickens shook his head. "We should have made you a knight, then at least you'd be stuck in Corus with your brother and his Ordeal coming up."

"But, I'm a Rider now and I can do something about her death," Teirra told him urgently.

"Then come back to me alive, dear girl. You and Taex are all I have left of your mother." He told her in return.

Teirra stared at him a moment, then at the hand on her arm. She couldn't promise her safety, not in her line of work. She saw how easily death had come in Sereous. She couldn't lie to her father.

"Promise me," he shook her arm.

"You know I can't. Father, please. I don't want to die anymore than you want me to." Teirra pleaded with her eyes to let her go. Finally he released her and looked to the ground. Teirra watched him worriedly for a moment. "Taex sends his love." Then she left the funeral.

She didn't know where she was going until she got there and Jacob, who had come to tend all the horses, nodded to her in greeting. She went to Prancer instantly, digging into her pocket for a carrot and offering it to him. "What am I to do, Prancer? She's dead and I should have been here to help her. I'll have to leave the Riders and tend to the household now." Tears formed in her eyes. "My dream will slip through my fingers and all I'll have is Taex's stories to live through. I'll have to marry some old noble-man whose far to stuffy for me and have his children. Mother's attackers will escape and..."

Prancer shoved her with his muzzle as if to say, Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

"Oh, you don't know what it's like." Teirra insisted. "Nothing is turning out how it should."

Prancer tossed his head and looked away. Life never does, lass.

"It should." Teirra whipped the tears out of her eyes. "Look at me, a mess. If my father saw this, he'd say it was dishonorable. I have to at least remember my family."

Prancer nipped at her sleeve. And me.

Teirra couldn't help but smile. "And you. I just wish I had a lead to go on. Something to help." She sighed and tired of standing still on her feet, plopped herself down on the grass, legs crossed, as Prancer's feet. She closed her eyes to think. Unfortunately, the only thing that kept coming to mind was that familiar face from the skirmish several days earlier. Teirra shook her head to clear the image, but it kept coming back. "Stupid face." She muttered.

Prancer's head came down as he nibbled the grass. Maybe he's not stupid.

Teirra opened her eyes and looked at her horse. She sat in silence for a long time, just thinking. Slowly, she remembered that she had brought parchment and pen with her; she had intended to write a letter to her mother, but she never did. Gathering herself up and standing, she moved to where her saddle and small pack had been left by Jacob and rummaged through it.

Prancer's head went up slightly at all the noise she made. Stop that racket. What are you looking for?

Teirra ignored him for the time being and smiled when she found just what she was looking for. Without word, she sat back down and began to sketch out the face that was imprinted in her mind. She thought that if she showed her father, he would recognize the face and tell her who he was, then she could go to the men that may have seen the bandits and see if they could place the face. It was a long shot, but it was all she had.

She was nearly done when Group Nobility drifted up towards the horses to help saddle them for the ride back to the castle. She looked up to see Iris's inquisitive stare and shrugged. Teirra would tell them later, if it all worked out.

Jumping to her feet, and startling Prancer so bad that she had to convince him it was nothing, she ran down to meet her father coming up. "Father!"

Lord Dickens stopped and looked at his daughter with curiosity. "What's all this?"

"Here," she thrust the parchment at him. "This face is familiar. It was a man I fought a few days ago when the group was attacked. I was thinking we could ask some of the men about him and see if he was familiar. After all, the knife we found has already been suspected to be one of the bandits, so that's a nice sign."

Lord Dickens studied the face intently, rubbing his chin all the while, a face Teirra knew well from when her father walled himself into his study. She waited patiently but eagerly. "He's a noble," he began slowly, "but I haven't seen him in years. He disappeared and it was rumoured that he had died. Hmm, a few extra scars and longer hair and facial hair that wasn't there before. He used to be a pretty good knight in his time, but he wasn't the most honorable person I knew. Some suspected that he had affairs with other noble-men's wives, daughters, sisters, aunts, cousins... It looks like him, I just don't believe it to be him."

"Who?" Teirra asked, losing a bit of her patience.

"Sir Grufford, born of Maren. You saw him with the attack on your group?" Lord Dickens handed over the image.

"Yes," she nodded, "I saw it with my own eyes. I fought him until he escaped."

"Rumour was that he was siding with the Scanran's in the war." Lord Dickens frowned deeply. "If that is the man you saw, I need you to write me if anything seems traitorous about him. I will forward your findings to the court and hopefully the Crown, though they are rather busy trying to help out with those who lost everything in the war."

Teirra nodded. "I will."

"Give that sketch to Francis when we get back. He'll go about and ask the men if they saw a man like that. With any luck, they will." Lord Dickens instructed her.

Teirra nodded once again and bowed. "Of course." Then she turned and started back towards Prancer and the other horses. She smiled to herself. At least her father was beginning to act like his old self again. Maybe she should include him a little in their tracking of this bandit group, just to make him feel involved. He'd like that, she thought.

When she got to Prancer, he was already saddled, how anyone had accomplished that, she didn't know, but she was thankful. Teirra pitied the man who had, though. She swung up and patted the gelding's neck.

Prancer looked back at her. In a better mood?

Teirra smiled a little at him. "Yes, a little."

Did that, whatever you call it, help? Prancer continued to stare at her.

"It did, or at least I hope it will. My father recognizes the man, that is a good sign." Teirra replied easily.

Penolope looked back over her shoulder that Teirra and raised an eyebrow. "Chatting with your horse again? Does he even talk back?"

Teirra's mood dimmed a little at the teasing. "Yes, he does. He's good company, unlike some people, some times."

Penolope snorted and turned forward once more in her saddle at the procession started to move.

"Some people would say that such a noise is unbecoming in a lady." Teirra remarked with a smirk.

"And some would find you crazy." Penolope replied without looking back.

"It isn't crazy, it's useful and the Wildmage isn't crazy. People appreciate all she does." Teirra pretended to pout.

"Don't do that," it was Iris that replied. "It's unbecoming." The woman stayed serious for a moment before a smile broke out on her face. Penolope rolled her eyes.

Teirra smiled, one that lit into her eyes. The day was a horrible one, but it was one with a step closer to finding her mother's killers and giving them exactly what they dished out. She didn't think they would appreciate that so much. Let honor dig a well, she was going to give her mother the justice she deserved.

Author's note: Alright, so this was a much harder chapter to make interesting. After all, it is hard to decide where to go from here. I was hesitant to make an dialogue with Teirra and her horse, but she does possess wild magic with horses and I really wanted some sort of interaction. I hope it works with the chapter though. Who knows?