In the Caves

It was another cold morning as I waited by the front gates of Morrowgale for the auburn haired women. I had already assembled my pack and my equipment, and was ready to be on my way. My decision was to simply move towards the east, towards the unmarked village of Herongale. If what David had told me was true, it would be free of any Blackstone, or any other legion that might be looking for me. Still, this was a double-edged sword, the lack of any established legion within the area would make Herongale popular with smugglers and bandits. I suspect that the auburn haired woman knew of this as well.

Turning to the streets, I could see the members of the village beginning to stir within. Men had begun cleaning the fresh snowfall away from the entryways of buildings, while the women began bringing in firewood and drinks stored outside. Among them, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a familiar looking woman. Turning to face her, I saw the figure notice me and raise an arm, waving gently to me.

"There you are, Warden! I was worried you had left without me." She said, her voice confirmed her as the auburn haired woman. As she grew closer, I gained a better look of what she was wearing. She had covered herself in a white, woolen coat. Dark brown and black furs adorned her shoulders, wrapping around to cover most of her front, with a black woolen cap adorning her head. There appeared to be a light brown satchel by her side, slightly smaller than the pack I carried with me. Slung across her back was a medium sized, lute shaped vase.

"Of course not. I would not abandon you after you had paid for my aid." I said in response. The woman smiled back at me as she strolled beside me.

"Easy Warden, just pulling your chain a little is all." She said, her face shifted into one of thought for a moment as she crossed her arms and raised her gloved hand to her chin. After a brief delay, she continued. "Oh wait, I'm thinking of Conquerors, aren't I?" I couldn't help but give a weary sigh as she smirked and gave a light chuckle. I could already tell this was going to be a long trip. Without responding, I turned back to the gates. Atop of them were the same guards from the day before. For a moment I wondered if they had been there for the entirety of my stay, I hoped that they were being compensated if they had been. One of the guards walked towards a set of wooden steps to the right of the wall, I recognized her immediately as the one I had spoken to the day before.

"Off so soon, Warden?" She asked, placing her hand on the railing of the steps. I nodded.

"My business in Morrowgale is finished, I must be on my way." I responded. The guard did not respond immediately, instead she turned her attention to the auburn haired woman at my side. I could just make out the hints of a smile on her face.

"And with some company I see." She mused, much to my frustration. Not even a day, and that had been pointed out twice already. I wondered just how many times this would be brought to my attention before my journey was over. "Safe travels Warden. God be with you." She finished. The guard turned to one of her compatriots and gave a signal. Before long, the wooden gates were again grinding open. Beside me, my companion shifted her furs and let out a long breath.

"You have no idea how good this feels Warden, getting back out on the road after being cooped up for so long, it's exhilarating!" She exclaimed. I simply began marching forward, pressing fresh snow deep into the earth. Not long after, I could hear my companion follow after me.

"I don't believe I ever asked your name." I spoke. The woman quickened her stride, coming right beside as we stepped through the open gates, out onto the well-worn path. Ashfeld was once again before me.

"I suppose you didn't." She responded, glee and vigor dripping from every word. "The name is Beuer, Deborah Beuer. A pleasure to make your acquaintance Warden."

Our trek towards Herongale only lasted a few hours. Heavy snowfall from the previous night had rendered much of the road nearly untraversable. To make matters worse, our path led us straight through landscapes that had been ripped apart, creating geysers that would eject hot steam and gas that could boil our skin in a matter of seconds. Although we tried pressing on regardless, Beuer and I simply were not equipped to handle such treacherous terrain. I knew it would be in our best interest to set up a camp before night fell and delay the rest of our travel until the next morning. Thankfully, Beuer agreed with me. Through our cooperation, we were able to find a shallow cave in one of the larger hills. The cage sat at the base of the hill, and the entrance was difficult to see through the thick layer of trees.

While I collected firewood, Beuer stayed behind to pitch the tent. Before long, we were able to get a proper fire going and set up a functional campsite before the sun set. I was still staring into the flame as the first hints of darkness fell over the trees, the biting cold around me dulled by flames. My helmet lay on the ground to the right, Beuer sat to my left, the soft light of the fire seeming to reflect off her hair. The falling snow and darkness around us blocked most of my sightline beyond the cave, only faint shapes that I was unable to discern were visible in the distance.

"I have to say, you sure know how to show a girl a good time, Warden." Turning to face Beuer, I saw her blowing into her hands and rubbing them together. The tips of her fingers and nose had turned ever so slightly red, and I could see her teeth chattering lightly. Despite this, she never let a smile leave her face as she turned to face me.

"Been a while since I've gone on a proper camping trip." She continued. I sighed and looked back into the fire.

"Apologies, Miss Beuer. Had I known this journey would be so arduous, I would have found another way." I responded.

"Oh save the drama. We both know the weather in Ashfeld does whatever it darn well pleases, and as for the geysers, those things are even more temperamental. You'd have to be borderline psychic to figure those things out." Beuer said back. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her pull the lute shaped case closer to her. Adjusting towards her, I raised my eyebrow as she pulled the instrument free, and began observing it closely. Was she about to start playing? In the middle of hostile wood, no less?

"I doubt this is the time for campfire songs, Miss Beuer. We don't know if we're alone out here." I observed. Beuer shifted her view away from the lute for a moment, just long enough to give me a look of acknowledgment, followed by one of her smiles. I was starting to wonder if she ever dropped that expression. With an equally familiar chuckle, she retorted.

"No need to get fussy, Warden. I'm just tuning it up." She adjusted a few knobs on the back of the instrument before continuing; "I'm sure a man of your profession can appreciate keeping his tools in working order, right?" And yet again, there was that sly smile. I groaned and looked back towards the flame, uncertain if I was genuinely frustrated with the woman, or if I was so used to solitude that any company would have garnered a similar response. Silence passed between us for a time, her tending to her instrument, and myself pondering my thoughts.

I was still trying to think of how best to track down Stone. It was entirely possible that he had stayed in Herongale during his search for bandits, but it was equally likely he had pressed on, or worse yet, skipped over it entirely. And if that were the case, how would I find him then? From the sounds of it, Herongale was only a hamlet, and one more than content to stay out of the affairs of Ashfeld. The best I could hope for from them would be a direction that he had traveled upon his departure. Again, this was assuming he had even been there in the first place. I wondered just how much I should be trusting David's word in the first place. Not that he seemed dishonest, but how many people must he have seen come and go in even as little as a day? Dozens, maybe? How likely was it that he mixed up where one of them said they were going?

I didn't have answers to any of my questions, nor, I realized, did I have any way of finding them before I arrived at my destination. In my moment of clarity, I deemed it best to let my worries lie for the night. Burdening myself with such concerns could only hinder my efforts, and surely wouldn't be settled by anything within this cave. My attention once again fell on the fire, the soft crackling seeking to punctuate the emptiness beyond the cave opening. I was just about to turn to Beuer before a new sound came to my ears. A familiar sound…

An image flashed in my mind as the breaking of wood assaulted my senses. It was as if my consciousness shifted between now and then, seeing the wooden buildings crumble and burst into showers of ember and splinters before my eyes. I turn to try and get away, but before me lies my brothers, sisters. The Blackstone. Around me they butchered the warriors sworn to defend this place. I shook my head and placed a hand to my head, again my vision shifted.

I blinked several times to try and clear my head, I dared not raise my eyes from the cave floor. These visions always came so suddenly, and I could never tell when they would cease. Or… was I in the vision now? My heart beat faster as I tried to calm my nerves, only hearing the ringing of steel and the screams of death rattle around me. I couldn't even tell if I was standing amongst the carnage or sitting on that cave floor. Out of desperation I forced my eyes shut, hoping the visions would stop…

"Hey, are you alright?" Beuer's voice cut through the stupor I found myself in. Suddenly the clashing of blades and screaming stopped, only the wind and gentle cracking remaining. I braved opening my eyes, ever so slowly, seeing only the rocks and the soil below me. I was back, I hoped.

"Warden?" Her voice came again, worry evident in its tone. I gently raised my eyes to face her, her features had shifted. Her once relaxed and comfortable position had become alert, yet somehow gentle. Her smile had faded from her lips, and her eyes carried a notable air of concern within them. Her lute, which she had so delicately handled before, lay on the stone beside her, seemingly forgotten in the moment. I released a long breath I hadn't realized I was holding and rubbed my forehead as I tried to gather my thoughts.

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drift off. I'm okay." I finally said. My words were quieter, softer. I couldn't seem to force any convictions or confidence into them.

"Are you? You kept saying 'Svengard', over and over again. What was that about?" Was her only response, and it was enough to drop my heart into my stomach. Had I truly been saying that? I had no memory of it, surely, I would have recalled it? Then again, if I could barely keep track of where I was, could I remember what I'd said? Beuer looked at me expectantly. I couldn't rush going back there. Not so soon.

"It's nothing. Just something I say to calm my nerves." I lied. Beuer's eyes narrowed as she lifted a knee to her chest, resting one of her arms on top of it.

"Really? Because it sounds an awful lot like a Viking stronghold the Blackstone Legion raided some three years ago." She responded. My heart sank even further.

"You know of Svengard?" I asked.

"I'm a traveling bard, Warden. Any major event that happens in Ashfeld, I learn about it." She sounded so matter of fact about it, as if I should have known better. Perhaps I should have, perhaps I hadn't considered just how infamous that attack had become in recent years. I felt my head sag slightly as I pondered this. Beuer seemed to as well. She seemed to revert back to that softer tone from before.

"You were there, weren't you?" The words cut through me like a sharpened blade. I could only look away in response. To deny it would be dishonest, to try and disregard the truly unjust, to erase my sins. Dishonorable. Yet to admit it, would be to admit my crimes. That I was part of a slaughter that killed countless women, children, protectors. Dishonorable. How could I do either? How could I not do either? It appeared I wouldn't need to make my choice. Beuer continued.

"That's why you don't wear any colors. You walked away after the attack. You were Blackstone." I didn't know if I was feeling shame, or relief that someone had figured it out. I had tried so hard to distance myself from what I had done, to atone. And yet here it was, brought before me like so many times before. Only this time, it wasn't my conscience accusing me, it was my new companion.

"…Yes." Was all I could muster. My voice was barely above a whisper at this point. I wanted so desperately to explain my actions. Defend my honor, it hadn't been my choice. I was lied to, we all were. Yet, despite all the excuses and justifications slamming around in my brain, I couldn't bring myself to say any more. How could I? Why should I? It was so clear I was wrong. We all were.

It was in this train of thought that I felt something gently come to rest on my arm. I turned to face it, and saw Beuer's hand upon my gauntlet. When I raised myself to see into her emerald green eyes, I did not see judgment, nor did I see anger, or disgust, as I had so often seen in my own mind. No, what I saw was sorrow. The kind of sorrow one feels when they see another suffering. It was so distinct, like I had never seen such a look before in my life, and yet so familiar, like an old friend, lost but now found. Soft as a feather, she spoke once more.

"Warden, what happened there wasn't your fault. The Legion would have taken Svengard with or without you. A fortress that strong was bound to be attacked sooner or later." She tried reassuring me. I gave a soft smile. She was trying so hard to ease my mind, to remove my burden. But I knew what she didn't.

"It wasn't just a fortress…" I croaked. My resolve wavered for a moment, and my speech failed me. I lowered my head to compose myself, and felt Beuer's hand ever so gently hover onto mine. A few moments of silence passed again until I could regain my strength. I breathed deeply, and released it as my words returned to me.

"…Svengard held all of the seed grain the Vikings kept stored during the winter. When spring came, they had no new food to grow, no land to cultivate. Innocent men, women, and children starved to death, and the few that survived? They all turned on one another over what scraps Apollyon had left them." I explained. Beuer took hold of my hand and squeezed it ever so softly.

"I was the one who led the attack, I fought their Jarl and killed him with my own hands. And yet I never knew. If I had, then I could have stopped it. I could have rallied the few good and honorable among the legion, and- "I was suddenly cut off by Beuer's voice.

"And the Warlord would have killed you, and whatever few people that would have joined you. You would be dead, Warden. And where would Ashfeld be then?" She paused before continuing; "It would be without one of the few good, and decent men it actually has left. You weren't meant to stop Blackstone that day, you were meant to break free!" Her last words were almost at shouting level, reverberating against the enclosed cave walls. They continued to resonate in my mind. I heard her words hundreds of times in a matter of seconds. So desperately I longed to believe them, so desperately I wanted to cling to them. Yet, in the very back of my psyche, a single hint of doubt yet remained.

"I want to agree with you, truly. But that blood is still on my hands." I said somberly. Beuer's grip tightened.

"Warden…" She said, I could not bring myself to look at her. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, before Beuer's hand finally left mine. Guilt washed over me as if it had been only the first night after the attack. I could hear the distant crackling of the flame all over again, burning down the buildings in Svengard.

All over again I could see it clearly, trudging through the snow and shattered wooden trees, as the fortress burned. None of the legion had come after me, perhaps Mercy hadn't told any of my betrayal, not yet at least. I tried closing my eyes, focusing only on the intense cold, matched only by the sound of my own footsteps…

…And yet, I found even this interrupted. Cut off by soft, beautiful melodies that echoed off the walls around me. I opened my eyes once more and turned to face Beuer. I found the source of the music there. She had taken up her lute and strummed its chords ever so gently.

The fire illuminated her form, giving her an almost divine appearance. She noticed my glance, and her face once again lit up with a gentle smile. As if trying to tell me it was going to be okay, with only a single movement of her lips. As much as I was enjoying her playing, I knew that it wasn't safe. There were too many dangers that we couldn't possibly foresee. And yet, I didn't want her to stop.

"Miss Beuer…" I tried to say, before she spoke again.

"Please, Warden, no need to be so formal. Deborah will do just fine." She said, the smile never leaving her lips. Before I could respond, she turned her attention away from me. Focusing on the fire, still burning before us, she began to sing.

Bí Thusa mo shúile, a Rí mhór na ndúil… I recognized the melody as soon as I heard it. An ancient song, singing praises unto God. The song had been translated into modern languages, and yet here she was, singing it in its original discovered tongue. I could only listen as the walls threw echoes all around me. It sounded as if the angels themselves were singing, all centered on the woman before me.

In that moment, all other feelings began to ebb away. My guilt, my doubt, my anger, all softly fading into the night. Deborah's eyes closed as she lost herself to the words, her own voice harmonizing with her in a display I could only describe as magnificent. A symphony of players and singers, all from one gifted bard. My feelings had not been removed, but all I could feel in this one, singular moment, was a calm like no other. With the words piercing into my heart, I found myself relaxing, I closed my eyes, lowered my head…

…And listened.