Vesta drearily lifted her head off her bag, and rolled off her makeshift hay bedding. "Not the best night's sleep, but I suppose I've had worse" she spoke sluggishly to herself. She had noticed she had developed a habit of speaking to herself over the past months. Her journey had been a long one and she had little company, those that she did meet frequently had their own quests to fulfill and they had to take their own paths, much to her regret.

She crawled over to the remnants of her fire that kept her warm, burnt sticks and logs were all that remained, along with the dark red, glowing embers. She untied her lucky pouch and set it in the ground. With the care of an archer, she slowly picked up the little embers with her fingers, ignoring the burning sensation on her tips, and placed them into the bag.

Her little ritual had gained her nearly 6 ounces of the embers. She wasn't completely sure why she collected them or when, if ever, she would need then, but she felt compelled to keep them.

As she packed up her gear, and prepared her morning meal, she let herself think back to the beginning of her journey.

-

Vesta felt herself grip the edges of the ship much harder than usual. The rocking of the already shaky vessel was unnerving her. Not to mention she had never had a long sea-faring trip, nor did the jagged cliff faces and razor sharp rocks at the waterline help.
"Ho there, Vesta! Don't hold on too tight to that railing, we can't afford to replace it if you crush it!" The booming voice of Talib brought a grin to her face, and forced her to turn around and greet him.

"I thought you were going to be below decks until we hit land!" He boomed again, not caring that she was less than 4 feet away.
"I was planning on it, but I felt that if I needed to hurl that you would appreciate me doing it into the ocean and not in your study"
"Always one to think of others, come, we must speak in my study you care so much for" Talib spoke, though not nearly as loud as before. Something was on his mind and Vesta could sense it. He had always been terrible at lying.

Ever since they first met when she was barely into double digit age, they had been best friends. She was always a tomboy, a little girl with dark brown hair and brilliant green eyes. She frequently would skip her maiden classes at her estate, and would instead head down to the docks, sit up upon the edge of plaza, and watch the battleships and merchants come in and out.

It was there she met Talib. A boy, a few years older than her, with a burning curiosity and a quick mind. An even quicker wit which enraged the royals. Fiery red hair that was down to his shoulders, brilliant golden eyes burning with an intense flame, and an average but lean build, she saw him trying to enter a conversation of several ship captains, and wondered to herself why he would try to do such a thing. Surely he had a larger interest, such as swordplay or archery, yet there he was, studying every piece of information he could get from each of the men.

She sat there and studied him for several minutes each day, before he disappeared from sight, following some captain or a sailor, or a dignitary perhaps. Something about this boy sparked an interest in her. So she began to eavesdrop upon the sailors and men in the docks. Her naturally small frame and light weight made her hard to detect or notice in the bustling docks, and she could easy eavesdrop on any one she pleased.

She easily found out that the boy has been there for as long as many of the sailors can remember. They know he is an orphan, his parents supposedly died in a pirate raid on their merchant ship. He was seen as the kid pet to nearly everyone around, he was bubbly and happy all the time, and he was referred to several times as "the kid who reminds us to be human". This satisfied her questions about him enough, so she went back to her wall on the edge of the plaza, and watched, spotting him now and again and focusing intently on him.

After several months of doing this, she noticed he had stopped appearing in the docks one day. Normally he could always be found asking all the sailors questions as they unloaded off their ships around Docks III-VII. She wondered where he was, until an unfamiliar voice and startling hand grabbed her from behind, scaring the humanity out of her.
"Hey, girl! I've noticed you for a week or so now and I thought I'd say hi!"

Vesta was immediately taken back by how outgoing he was. He lived the life of a peasant and had nothing to his name, but still found the energy to smile and make friends with someone dozens of tiers higher in the social class.
"Umm, V-Vesta. And you are?" She responded, taken aback.
"Talib! Talib of Thorolund! One and only! No need to be shy, I was just wondering why you had such a curiosity with random 'ole me".

She wasn't even aware that he'd noticed her. They had never made eye contact, nor had she even seen him make a sideways glance at her. How could he have possibly known?
She shook the thoughts from her head, and began to speak to him, letting out all the burning questions she had accumulated, all of which he happily answered. After several hours of what some might call vigorous interrogation, Vesta had exhausted all her questions, and Talib was still smiling as brightly as ever. His smile was contagious, it still is.

She asked about his dreams and goals, he wanted to command a ship, a warship. He wanted to be in service to the House of Thorolund. That's why he spent all his days in the docks, learning as much as he could so maybe one day he might be able to move up in the world.
Vesta wasn't sure what she thought about that, but when he showed her strategies that he would've pulled in battles like the Strait of Armeus or the Stone Tide Bay (all of which were taught to her) she clearly knew he had a gift. She was far more trusting and compassionate at the time. She went out of her way to buy him formal clothes, get him dressed up, all to simply introduced him to her father, hoping that he could earn something he deserved.

She remembered how terrified she was when she first brought Talib to his father's office. What if he didn't like him? What if he was rude? What if this? What if… Talib couldn't hide his emotions to save his life, but he could read other people extremely well, and he placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Relax, alright?" he said, so calm it almost stung her. They didn't say another word to each other for the rest of the short walk through the manor.

Vesta's father was never a caring man, he tried his best but without her mother and his wife he had lost all will to try, but he knew true compassion when he saw it, and furthermore he saw potential for a great commander. Her father pulled dozens of strings to find a place and teacher for Talib. Talib officially was adopted into the House of Thorolund and he was placed on a warship for study as soon as he was old enough. When they were well into their teens, Vesta being 16 and Talib going on nineteen, he confessed more than usual in her.

She remembered the words vividly in her head, the expressions in his face, the movements in his hands, everything. They had been sitting on the edge of the plaza, they had always met there. They met there for the first time and it became their unspoken official meeting ground.

"If you ever, ever need a favor, never hesitate to ask me. You have shown me more compassion that I ever thought possible, and you gave me life. There is nothing more valuable. Nothing you could ever ask will be too much, even if it means my life, I would lay it down for you" he said shakily, dead serious in tone. So unusual for himself, but this conversation was unusual so she put the two together.

Vesta had felt on the brink of tears, emotions that she had been raised to never feel were welling up, and in an instant that the entire scene happened, Talib was back to normal, his bubbly, kind, happy personality that didn't match his 6'5, monster of a body that could easily destroy a legion of men.

Their lives went on as normal for the next 3 years, Vesta was about to turn 20 and Talib had become a near legendary commander. Several near flawless victories resulting in complete enemy disarray or the utter destruction of the opposing fleets had earned him recognition by all but few nobles of the land of Thorolund.

It felt like years ago it was being discussed but in reality it was less than 2 months ago.
Two months? That can't be right.

It felt like years ago the fateful night it happened.

It had been another party, another stuck up party of champagne-sipping dignitaries, willing to kiss the ass of any man if it meant he would advance his career. It made Vesta sick to her gut. She had spent several nights down in the docks, aboard Talib's ship, The Hawk of the Sea, drinking and partying away with him and his crew. Thinking back on it with experience from her new life, Talib was the only reason she was still untouched by a man, and the reason she survived those parties. Those were true parties. They were men not only celebrating a victory in battle, but a victory in life. Another day they were still breathing, another day they still had blood in their bodies and fire in their eyes. Not these ones she was forced to attend. All these stuck up individuals who thought the world would collapse without them. Many times she had to restrain herself from speaking her mind, saying that if a commander dies another takes his place, but if his army dies he has nothing left, and no one would take his place. She always decided against it in the end, calling these men "commanders" would be a disgrace to her friends.

It was a dark time though, and the party and its attendees were notably more somber that previously. Vesta remembered it like a looking glass, seeing back in time perfectly.
Her father had risen on the top of the stairs in the grand hall, calling attention to the 2 to 3 dozen men and women in the room.

Everyone knew what he was going to speak of before he even began to talk.
"The curse of the undead is rising amongst our people at alarmingly high rates. The Way of White is drastically under-manned for the task at hand, and we cannot control these foul beasts that spread the plague in our lands".

Vesta felt her blood boil like someone had lit a roaring fire in her heart. She felt her entire body tense as she tried to hold back her rage. The voice of her father began to blur and she felt her senses going into disarray. This… this feeling… She had felt in so many times before but never this strong. It felt like there was a beast inside. Whispering in her ear at first easily ignored; it was then screaming in her ear, reverberating in her entire soul. She could no longer control herself, the years of pent up anger and despise was let out in a burst of fury. Her words were sharper than any blade produced, be it man or god, "These "foul beasts" aren't foul at all. These were the men and women you entrusted to guard you, to keep you safe, to protect that which you couldn't protect yourself! As soon as they have the misfortune of coming down with the curse, you betray them, you stab them in the back. Not only that but you twist the knife. Executions?! Exile?! An asylum built specifically for them? You 'men' disgust me in all your fearful ways. You cannot accept that what you do not understand! You hide behind your petty 'gods'. If you could see your gods now you would question why you even worshipped them in the first place! You're cowards! Every single one of you are forsaken souls!"

With her torrent of words unleashed, and the entire hall staring at her in disbelief, the 5'5, lean built, brunette, with stunning green eyes, had just committed what is the equal of blasphemy of the church! No less the daughter of royalty! She had begun to storm away, fuming, when she heard her father speak in an unnaturally monotonous voice.
"Vesta" he spoke.
She turned around to face him, his ugly face of fear and hatred.
"I... I want you out of this city by the time the sun sets behind the ocean tomorrow. I want you gone from Thorlund by the end of the week. You understand. Now move".

She stood there, slightly shocked, but far less than she had expected. A smile crept upon her face, and she turned back around and ran up to her room, packing several essentials, such as her blade, a short 3 foot double sided sword that she had mastered over the years under Talib's training. Several pairs of rough spun socks and undergarments, no need for uncomfortable lingerie, and she changed out of her dark green dress, into a leather set of traveling gear. She was about to leave her room, for the very last time, and she turned around to take one last look at her soon to be previous life. She absorbed every detail about it, the mahogany doors, the porcelain vases above the hearth, the smoldering fire, and her dress.
Her dark green, gold hemmed dress, an extremely simple dress by royality standards, and would probably only be equal to an average dress my middle class standards. She felt drawn to take it though, like it would help her in some odd way.

She quickly stuffed it in her rucksack and set out. She sprinted past the dozens of nobles she had just shocked earlier, all of which were undoubtedly talking about her outburst. She ran past her father but on the way by, managed to snag his coin purse which he always foolishly kept attached to his jacket instead of his trousers. He hardly noticed as she ran off with over 500 silver coins, and she said a silent blessing to the thieves she ran into down in the lower docks.
Talib. She knew she had to see him; one last visit between life friends before her departure.

It was a beautiful summer night. There was a cool ocean breeze and you could easily smell the salt in the air. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky and the stars shone magnificently against the deep purple background, with the moon clarifying the dark path she ran. What was out there? Freedom? Emptiness? The hopes and dreams of others?

She thought as he ran, maybe he would know a place one of the neighboring lands she could lay over in? No. She didn't want to live in civilization. She was tired of the cities and towns. She was tired of seeing the rich spit on the poor and the poor seethe against the rich. It was toxic, like a plague, a curse.

She couldn't shake that thought as she blew past empty shops and stalls, heading down the slopes the city was built upon. She wanted freedom. She wanted to do what she wanted, not be restricted to rules and laws, standards to uphold and expectations to meet. She wanted to meet people beyond the infectious cities, people who shared similar passions, people who had goals they were going to achieve and would risk their lives to see it carried out. This is who she had held so dearly in her eyes; men and women that weren't thinking about surviving the day, men and women whose thoughts were that of the stars. People like Talib.

She saw an upcoming railing and vaulted it, letting the air caress her before she landed on the rooftop and rolled to break her fall. She continued to roll off the roof and land on her feet. Another trick she had learned down in the docks. All the sailors aboard the warships had to experience close quarters combat when they boarded ships or were being boarded. They had to learn how to maneuver the gaps, ledges, and ropes that were in every ship.
They taught her the tips and tricks but she perfected it in the city. There's quite a difference between a ship and a row of buildings.

Vesta continued to run when another railing came up, she vaulted it as usual but her foot clipped the edge and she tumbled down, right into a bale of hay. A mouthful of hay found its way into her mouth and she quickly jumped out and back into the streets. Spitting out the mouthful of dry grass, she continued to run, her endurance from years of it coming into play. She had finally made it to the docks, 20 minutes later, and even though she had ran that path for years, it still winded her every time.

She scanned the docks around where The Hawk of the Sea was normally anchored. She saw several men loading supplies onto it, but she noticed something strange. Normally majority of supplies were wartime supplies. Cannonballs, gunpowder, machetes, swords, rope, and so on, but these men were hardly loading any of it. They were loading unusually large amounts of food, camping supplies, and survival gear.

She jogged up to them, still winded but finding the breath to speak, "Ho, what is with all this food? Surely you do not need this much for a naval conflict?"
"Aye, Lady Vesta. We're not sure what it is. Captain Talib told us to take a 4 times the normal amount of food, and halved the wartime materials. He has not told us what he is planning, or where we are going, or why"
"Is he in his study?" Vesta asked, hurrying the conversation.
"Aye, you can find your way" the toothless sailor responded, as he went back to loading.

She ran across the boarding planks and onto the deck. She had been on this ship countless times but not one time had she been at sea on it. She had never found the sea comforting or peaceful as the sailors found it. She found it dangerous, full of turmoil and conflicting tides, much like the city. Every city, full of men and their opinions, rarely agreeing on anything but disagreeing.

She turned and jogged towards the oak wood double doors. She didn't even bother to knock and pushed both doors open much more forcefully than she had intended. "Talib! I need your help" as she spoke her voice began to crack. She had managed to maintain her composure all the way down from the plateau of the city down to the docks but she was breathing now. She could think clearly, and she just realized how she had changed the course of her life in less than a minute. She realized how much she didn't know, and it hit her like a cannon when she felt how terrified she was.
Talib emerged from around the corner, where his desk was and where he said he "filled out all the clerical red tape".

"Why are you here Vesta? You were supposed to be at a party all night. I'm slightly busy" he spoke with a tone if urgency and seriousness that was unnatural to him.
"I-" she faltered, not knowing where to start. "I spoke my mind" she finally whispered, barely audible. His eyes spoke his mind, he was shocked. They had spoken their minds to each other about current situations and events, their plans and goals, yet never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that Vesta, the curious, little girl he had always known, to speak what she truly thought.
"What did you say?" Talib said, his voice dead serious and with a tone to kill a man.
"I- I called each and every one of them cowards. They are afraid Talib, that's all they ever are. I defended the undead that they think 'plague' us. I committed heresy against the church, and my father banished me and cast me out".
Talib's eyes spoke a thousand words yet he could muster none. "Vesta..." he began, but before he could continue he found the woman in a death-grip hug around him.
"I'm afraid Talib! I need your help. Before you depart for business, I need to know how to make it to an abandoned land. Away from civilization, where passion exists! You surely must know! Through all your travels..." she was sobbing into his shoulder now, and dozens of thoughts argued in his head

"It's too dangerous to bring her. She could get hurt!
Like she already isn't in enough danger? She can handle herself on this ship. It's not like she's a huge person to support anyway, she doesn't need lots of food to sustain.
This isn't an authorized departure either. There's no harm in smuggling a convict, or should I say FRIEND out of the city".

Talib finally decided on one and looked down at Vesta. Her bright green eyes, bloodshot and flooded with tears. They were the eyes of a broken person, yet they still had the flame they saw in each other. They still burned with fierce compassion that could not be extinguished.
"Sit down, Vesta. I have something to tell you". She shakily let go of his shirt and vest, and sat down in his desk chair. "Vesta... this isn't an authorized departure. Everything you see, this is me leaving, I'm planning on telling the crew in a few minutes. But I'm leaving it all behind, too. All of it. You don't need to run alone. I heard legends of a lost land, the land were the flame burns strongest. I can tell you more later, but first you must tell me. Are you seeking happiness through peace, or happiness through change?"
Talib had expected some thought behind her response, but she already had it planned, she would never speak out of instinct, only if she was set in achieving something. "Happiness though change" she spoke, strong but she still her voice was still cracked as she was struggling to regain her composure. She still had so much to say but it was obvious he was on a right schedule so she restrained her questions.

He grinned, and it snapped him back to his normal self "Now that's what I like to hear! Come topside with me, we're going to announce it to the crew together!" Vesta rose from the chair, a damn comfortable chair at that, with her confidence restored and that flame in her was burning a little brighter. Talib had always been a leader. There was just a charming quality about him, he made people follow him. Not by force or the likes, people wanted to follow him. Vesta can't say she didn't find it attractive. She wiped the tears off her face and rubbed her eyes, hopefully no one could tell she had been crying, she would hate to ruin her reputation. She followed Talib as he pushed open the double doors leading out of his study and onto the main deck.
"Men! Gather 'round! I have an announcement to make!" Talib boomed. Every man around heard, and instantly gathered in the middle of the deck.

"This is not an authorized departure, we're leaving Thorolund forever. The church, has decreed, that any and all ships that have, or have had, an undead crew member must be burned. The Hawk of the Sea is scheduled to burn at 6:00 'morrow evening. Not only this, but the church has gone far enough as to strip me, and half a dozen other captains of their ranks, for requesting to keep several undead crew men, who were some of the most proficient crew men we've seen. This is a fleet of 7 ships, Us, the Hawk of the Sea, Captain Bentley and his Royal Wolfe, Captain Augur and his Dragon Breathe, Captain Trinad and his Taurus Ram, Captain Daysen and his Irvine, Captain Gutts and his Sea Beast, and Captain Morrigan with her Plague Demon. Our destination is a supposedly abandoned city. I cannot speak more of it". Talib paused to take a breath and then dropped tone.
"Any who do not wish to come with, may exit the boat. I will not hold a thing against your desires. We all fear change"

He gazed amongst his crew, as did Vesta from behind him in his shadow. Not a single man budged, and each had a fierce flame burning in their eyes, loyalty to their captain, to the ends of the Earth.

Talib smiled and boomed again "Excellent! Begin loading again! Double time, we have a schedule to keep! I didn't strike a deal with the next shift's guards!"
Vesta walked out from Talib's shadow and towards a pile of crates. Talib was too busy directing men to talk, and there was no need to interrupt him. She began to lift the boxes when a hand fell upon her shoulder, a sailor. A young man, fuzzy brown hair and mismatching eyes, one blue and one brown, "Aye siwmae. We have these, there's no need to strain yourself". As he spoke, there was clear sarcasm yet a challenging tone. She smiled at him and he grinned back. Silently, they began a challenge to see who could pack the most boxes. Vesta may have been smaller than the average man aboard a ship, but she was fit and could easily lift more than she weighed.
The competition passed time quickly, and before they knew it all boxes had been packed, and the sun's rays were beginning to peak over the horizon.
They collapsed backwards against the edge of the ship and looked up.
"That's a rare sight, is it not siwmae?"
"Truly" Vesta replied in awe.

The sun's dark orange and red rays had begun to crest over the horizon, clashing with the dark blue and purple of the night sky. A magnificent border of bright stars burning clear against a brighter background, and clashing colors formed in front of their very eyes.
"You take a break Vesta, Talib won't get on your case for not doing anything" he said laughingly.

She had always found it funny how all men aboard the Hawk of the Sea knew her name, yet she knew a third of them at best. She picked herself off her feet, and dragged herself to the captain's quarters. She dragged her feet across the polished wood floors, and then collapsed in the spare hammock that was kept around for visitors. She was tired, and she needed sleep.