Wind and Water Chapter V: Dunbarton! Moving to a New Street

Disclaimer: Mabinogi belongs to Nexon and whoever else developed it... enough said.

A/N: Right, so last chapter... I have mixed feelings about it, so let's move on (since I still don't know your feelings on the subject- Taeniaea's made hers clear, but she's just one person). New Street is Dunbarton's theme.

Right, on to relevant subjects. Yeah, I think Aeria's departure was a little rushed, but I'm more in the mood to just go with the flow of my words as they fall rather then plan them out (other than picturing a general idea of what I want to happen). We now see our heroine and her companion(s) enter into the forest that separates Dugald Aisle, a narrow, rocky mountain pass, from Tir Chonaill, which is an irregularly shaped valley. And yes, this forest does exist in canon, but in the game it transports you straight to the other end of it when you enter.

Ne?- Right?

"Speaking" "Reading Aloud"

Narration- Describing off-screen events (When it appears in story)

'Thinking' '-Telepathy-'

Underlined text is written on paper/wood/etc.

Flashback, Memory, and Similar.

"While in flashback, this is speaking."

'While in flashback, this is thinking.'

"Hey Aeria, did I ever tell you how good of a cook Syra is?" Sert spoke in contrast to the mood.

"Read the mood, second!" Eiry reprimanded him.

And so Sert, Eiry, and I entered into the forest separating Tir Chonaill from Dugald Aisle.

I passed through the woods of Dugald Aisle in silence, and the wildlife around me were also quiet. Sertelein, who walked beside me, spoke more than enough to make up for all of us, though. "Hm... I think I can convince Syra to let you stay with us in our house, what do you think of that?"

I shrugged, and he continued his one-sided conversation with me, "Yeah... you probably don't care as long as you have a place to stay, but I have to say, Syra's cooking is the best! Just wait!"

Again, I shrugged, eyes watching the sides of the forest path warily. Aside from Sert's constant stream of chatter, the forest was silent, and it was unnerving. About the time I actually saw something, Eiry grew fed up with Sert's talking.

"Geeze, shut up Second! Can't you read the mood at all? Aside from your repetitive rambling, there's no sound. None! We're in a forest, I'd expect to hear something other than a scatter-brained swordsman-in-training!"

That was when a lightning bolt broke the aforementioned silence of the air with a loud crack and struck me in the center, making me double over. Sert drew his sword and intercepted a wisp as it darted out of the tree, no doubt intent on capitalizing on my shock(1). With a trio of blows, the wisp was knocked back, and Sert charged it, only to be knocked back himself. As Sert stood, I recovered and began charging a fire bolt while the wisp was distracted. It darted at Sert as he shifted into a defensive posture and I sent it flying to the side with my fire bolt. Agitated, it rushed me, only to be smashed by Sert. This time it didn't recover and charge again.

"That's odd," Sert spoke, and I turned to him, tilting my head. "Wisps aren't usually that aggressive. Most of the time they just leave you alone so long as you don't stick around."

I shrugged, for all we knew it had become irritated by Sert's dialogue as well. I continued down the path and Sert followed after me, much quieter now and watching the sides of the road. We exited the woods without further incident, and Sert looked back at them and sighed, glad to leave the oppressive atmosphere he had noticed when he stopped chatting. We were now in Dugald Aisle, and before us a road carved its way steeply down a narrow pass with a few trees and boulder keeping it company. Off in the distance, a fox darted behind a boulder, and a dog chased after it. The scene before us, with the clear sky above, was nothing like the one we had just left.

With a small, relieved sigh of my own, we started down the path, taking care not to lose our footing. The path was steep, I told you earlier... That was an understatement. In some places the road took a near forty-five degree dip, and I slid a few feet several times in those locations. But the path was not terribly long, as steep it was, and after covering about a kilometer's distance, we came upon a sign that read, 'To Dunbarton', and sure enough, ahead of us was a small camp of loggers busy hacking away at trees and stacking firewood, while a few others placed the wood on carts that would be sent where they were needed. In the center was a large tree reminiscent of the Elder Tree in Tir Chonaill that went untouched. We passed through undisturbed, as most of the loggers were too busy with their jobs, and what ones weren't busy simply didn't seem to care.

We passed the logging camp without incident and found ourselves on another narrow path, but this one had less trees, more rocks, and wasn't anywhere near as steep. As we passed through it, the sun was starting on its arc down the sky. We came to another forest, but we weren't attacked this time. After we left the oppressive wood, we were relieved to see a sign that said 'Welcome to Dunbarton.' The road was lined with apple trees, and in the distance we could see several farms. The sun was just beginning to set as we came into view of the city walls, which weren't that far away at all.

The walls were made of white granite, no doubt gathered from the mountains surrounding the valley Dunbarton was found in, and they were tall, but apparently the houses behind them were taller, as several red-tiled roofs peaked out from behind. Sert pointed at one close to the gate, "That one's mine. Let's rest there and see Aranwen in the morning, okay?"

I nodded, weary from the long walk, and so we passed through Dunbarton's gates, just before they closed and the guard stationed at them lit the torches. I raised my eyebrow, 'Only one guard?(2)' I had thought, but I was distracted when Sert pulled me to his house by my arm, a wide smile visible on his face.

The house was three stories tall, as were most buildings in Dunbarton, and relatively undecorated other than a plate on the front door that read, 'Edan(3).' Sert knocked on it vehemently and from beyond one could hear hurried footsteps and hushed, unintelligible complaints. The door opened, "What do you want at this-" The girl who opened it spoke before stopping as she saw who it was. "Oh, back from the north already, are you? Thought you wanted to see the world..." Her eyes trailed down to me standing behind Sert, "Who's this?"

"This is Aeria, the reason I left Tir Chonaill so soon... She's one of Ranald's, the martial arts teacher there, higher level students." He said as I waved tentatively.

"Really?" She said, leaning close to me, disbelief in her eyes.

I nodded, as did Sert, "Yeah, she saved my tail when I got in over my head yesterday."

"Yesterday? So why's she here now?"

"Well," Sert began, "she's here to learn from Aranwen, and I decided to come with her to repay her. Anyway, will you let us stay?"

The paused in the door, a finger on her chin and looking thoughtful before she stepped down and, with a smile, gave Sert a hug, "Look at you! Asking for permission to stay in your own house. Come in, already, stupid!"

She stepped back, laughing, and I followed Sert into the building, shutting the door behind me. The room was rather simple, with a hearth to the right, and a line of counters on the wall opposite the door, broken only by a sink, icebox, and staircase leading upstairs. In the center of the room was a table with four stools around it, resting on a simple red rug. On the same wall as the door was a large, beveled window with thick, white curtains pulled shut along it, and on the walls to the left and right were several pictures. As the moved off to the side, I looked at the pictures on the left wall. There were three of them, arranged like the points of an equilateral triangle. The bottom left picture was Sert and the girl, who must be Syra(4). Syra was in front of Sert, looking down and blushing while Sert stood back, his trademark grin on his face and his right hand resting on Syra's shoulder. He gave a thumbs-up sign to the viewer.

The next picture was of Syra holding a younger girl in her lap and combing her hair in front of a mirror, while the final picture was of five people. In the very front, was the younger girl, while behind her, at either shoulder, was Sert and Syra, and behind them was a pair of adults who resembled Sert and Syra, their parents, most likely.

I looked to Syra, who was cooking a meal as she talked, "So you had to be saved by someone half your height? I bet that was embarrassing, it's too bad I couldn't see you afterward."

Her tone was pleasant and spoke of her familiarity with Sert, who simply scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "Well, in my defense I completed every room before that one without any trouble, and the dungeon boss was in the next room."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure..." Syra said, before her face blossomed into a mischievous smile, "But you still needed to be saved by a little girl."

Apparently Sert gave up after this, because he just groaned and sat down at the table, and Syra continued her conversation, "You know you're lucky you arrived while I was still cooking, or you wouldn't have any food..." That was when the older girl noticed me standing in front of the stairs, watching, "Why hasn't she said anything?"

"She's mute." Sert replied, bluntly. "She hasn't said a single word in all the time I've met her."

"Hm?" Syra was looking at me out of the corner of her eye now, and I waved to her, before she focused back on the skillet in front of her.

"Syra?" Sert spoke questioningly, but Syra didn't respond, remaining silent as she cooked. Her eyes had become distant, and it reminded my of the descriptions people often gave of my own eyes. I wondered what she was thinking about.

But, I would not find out today, as Syra turned around, grabbing a trio of bowls and somehow balancing them in her arms as she filled them with the stew she had just cooked. The girl then glided over to the table and set them down, "Done!" She turned to me, "Come on over and sit down."

I nodded to her and walked to the seat she was pointing at, which faced the window. To my left sat Syra, and to my right sat Sert. The curtains were lit from outside by the light-posts in the streets. I looked at the stew, and then to Sert, who was already digging in, and from Sert my eyes drifted to Syra, who was looking at me expectantly, hands in her lap. I took the spoon next to my bowl and took a bite, and looking to Syra who was now leaning forward. The stew was good, just as good as anything Caitin had ever cooked. And so I gave Syra a smile, before finishing my meal.

"So..." I looked to Syra as she spoke after everyone finished their stew. "If you're mute, how do you communicate with people?"

"She uses a book." Sert answered for my, and I nodded, pulling out my conversation journal and placing it on the table, writing and showing Syra.

'But it makes things kind of awkward, and it draws conversations out significantly.'

Syra nodded, "That's understandable... It must be hard, ne?"

"-Having something to say and not being able to say it." She continued.

I nodded, filing the small, almost unnoticeable undertone in voice away for later reference.

"So you're going to train with Aranwen? You must be pretty good."

I nodded, and Sert spoke for me again, "She's really good. It's actually kind of scary how good she is, considering how old she is."

"Hm, I suppose you've practiced a long time then?"

I shrugged to this. Apparently I had practiced often in my former life, but in this life I had only technically been alive for a year, and the sentence I wrote down backed that.

'Only for a year.'

"Really?" Both Sert and Syra spoke at the same time, but Syra sounded interested whereas Sert sounded incredulous.

I nodded, and Syra stood up abruptly, "Well, that's enough talk for tonight. The sun's gone down, and I'm pretty sure you want an early start tomorrow... You can use the spare bedroom on the third floor." She said, directing the last part at me.

I nodded and went up the stairs, passing a few more pictures in the hallway. One of Sert by himself, another of Syra, and one more of the young girl who was as of yet unnamed.

I found the stairs to the third floor at the end of the hallway and found another hallway at the top, but this one was much shorter. There were two doors, one to either side. I looked at the one on the left which had a sign on it that read

'Mom and Dad's room.'

So I entered the one on the right, and found a small room with a single bed and dresser. A window with curtains tied back overlooked the street below. I set my bag on the dresser and leaned Eiry against the wall before changing and laying in bed, next to a column of brick that most likely led to the hearth on the first floor. For some reason, I could hear Sert and Syra talking downstairs through the stone.

"Spill, you didn't just lead her here because she helped you out, did you?" Syra asked, her voice accusing.

"No, really, that's it!" Sert replied, though his defense was weak.

"Really? You sure it isn't..."

I never head the rest of Syra's statement as I fell asleep then, weary from the travel I had done.

"Aeria!"

I turned, lowering my sword and sparing the training dummy from its beating, for a while, to face a girl wearing a white dress with long golden hair, a silver circlet on her head. Her eyes were red, matching the ruby embedded in her circlet. "Yes, Lady Amaranthe(1)?"

"What did I say about over-working yourself?"She asked rhetorically, her hands on her hips, her brows furrowed, and her mouth in a slight frown.

"Lady Amaranthe," I sighed, "We've been over this. I must train as often as possible, and improve myself as much as possible each time, so that when I face my better, I will instead be their match."

She frowned more, and then pouted, "But you were injured on the last assignment! You shouldn't be training while injured!" She pointed at me accusingly, and I shrugged, holding up my sword, "I am using my right hand, Lady Amaranthe. It was my left arm that was injured."

"But you're left-handed!"

I shrugged again, "I'm ambidextrous, Lady Amaranthe. Besides..." I pulled the wrappings of my left arm off to reveal it was unscathed underneath, "I've always healed quickly."

"But still!" Amaranthe continued, "You shouldn't push yourself! One of these days, you're going to need that extra energy you put into training! What are you going to do then?"

Her voice softened as she continued, "What are you going to do then?"

I sheathed my sword and walked over to her as my vision faded to black, her voice echoing in my ears,

"What are you going to do then?"

What scared me then is, I really didn't know what I would do.

I opened my eyes as sunlight poured through the window to my right and stood up, sighing. It was another vivid dream. This one wasn't as troubling as the first, but it still raised more questions than it answered. Who was Amaranthe? Why did I respect her so- was she royalty or nobility? Why did she worry so much for me? Why had I been so adamant about training?

Why was I still so adamant about training?

I dressed, sheathed Eiry and walked downstairs to find Syra cooking breakfast. She turned and smiled pleasantly, showing none of whatever was going on beneath her front last night. "Good morning Aeria!"

I nodded and gestured outside. "Breakfast is almost done, why don't you wake Sert up and eat- then go out?"

I nodded and went back to the second floor, which only had a single room. 'Syra and Sert' it read. I opened the door to find the room was short on space. There was a window allowing light in across from me, and to either side was a bed. On the left wall was another door. But each bed took up nearly half the room, which made me remember how small the house really was, despite how tall it was.

Sert was sleeping under a red comforter in the bed to the right. I walked over to him and it came as a surprise to me that he barely made any noise when he slept. Somehow I had been expecting him to be sprawled out on the bed, snoring loudly, but instead he lay beneath the covers on his side, breathing quietly, and the blanket barely looked disturbed at all. I stopped musing and remembered what I was here for.

I looked to Eiry, and she grinned mischievously at my expression, before floating next to Sert's ear.

"WAKE UP, SECOND!" She shouted at the top of her lungs as I stepped back. Sert flew out of his bed so fast I was wondering why he wasn't feeling light headed.

"What's going on?" He spoke frantically, before he saw my standing in front of the door, and Eiry floating off to the side with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Breakfast is almost done." The spirit spoke with thinly veiled amusement and smugness.

Sert's eyes narrowed as he realized what happened, and he pointed at Eiry accusingly, "You... I'm going to get back at you, just wait."

"I'm sure." Eiry replied confidently as she followed me out the door, which Sert shut irritably behind us.

Downstairs, Syra was still cooking and I took a seat at the table, Eiry hovering over my shoulder. "Hm..." She mused aloud, and I turned to her, "You should let Syra hold me, it'll make talking with her a lot easier."

I shrugged, not seeing any reason not to. I clapped, and Syra turned, raising her eyebrow, as she saw me offering her Eiry's medium, hilt-first.

"What do you want me to do with this?" She asked, rhetorically, as she took the blade.

Once she grasped the handle completely, she almost dropped it in shock as Eiry appeared right in front of her, "Hi! I'm Eiry, the spirit of Master's short sword."

"...Um... hi."

"You can give my medium back to Master now, we just wanted you to be able to hear and see me, so I could help Master communicate with you." Eiry continued, drifting back to me and 'sitting' on my shoulder.

"Right..." Syra replied as she handed the short sword back to me. I nodded, sheathing it as Sert came down the stairs.

"Alright you little minx, just you wait, I'll get back at you." His eyes were so narrow and his expression so serious, I raised my eyebrow as Eiry smiled, "We'll see, Second, we'll see."

"Am I missing something here?" Syra spoke, surveying the scene.

"Ah! Syra- I'm not crazy, really! There's this little spirit-thing that hangs around Aeria and..."

He saw Eiry's broad grin and noticed Syra pointing at Eiry before groaning, "Ah dang it!"

He looked to me, where I was writing in my second journal, "What'cha doing Aeria?"

"Master's writing last night's dream down for later reference." Eiry answered for me.

"Why would she do that?" Syra spoke curiously, bringing a trio of plates to the table.

"Master doesn't remember anything before her birthday a year ago," The spirit supplied, "She writes down her dreams to see if she can piece together what her old life was like."

"Oh..." Syra replied, looking thoughtful, as Sert stood off to the side, a contemplative expression on his face, "What was this dream about?"

Eiry shrugged helplessly and looked to me, where I had just put my pen down and pulled out my conversation journal.

I hesitated to write anything down, before I allowed the pen to touch the paper, 'A girl... I was in the garden with a girl, and my left arm was injured.'

Syra nodded, and Sert spoke up from his seat to my right. "That... wasn't an ordinary nightmare, was it? In the dungeon, I mean."

I put the fork I had picked up back on the table and stared at my hands. Just as Syra was going to lecture Sert, I steeled myself and began writing, silencing both of them.

'A man spoke, "Who did this?" He asked, "Not only kill but mutilate the bodies, that is no way to fight. Only a beast, a monster or an oni would do such a thing." And then... Blood... The girl in front of my said she could smell blood, and I was covered in blood, but I wasn't injured, and neither was she... And then I turned around, and there was a man, stabbed in several places, his face unrecognizable. And beyond a pair of large, broken windows, there was a field that was just... coated in blood... and there were bodies... so many bodies. There was a pair of men burying them, and one of them was glaring at me.'

Both Syra and Sert turned pale as they read it, "That's... not something a child should see." Sert spoke, and Syra picked up,

"But... it's not like you could have killed them, right?"

I shook my head and continued to write, one more line. 'I spoke, surveying the scene, "I have shed blood in the house of My Lady, I have fallen to their level.'

The siblings were speechless, and even Eiry was missing her usual cheer. "Goddess..." Sert spoke, "I mean... I knew you were good, but... not only to have amnesia, but a past like that... Geeze... I can't blame you for forgetting it."

I didn't write or do anything else, and instead picked up my fork and began to eat, unsure what, if anything, I could do now. To quote a phrase, the cat had been let out of the bag.

"You're not a monster, a beast, or a demon, Aeria." Syra spoke, her tone serious. I just nodded, focusing on my food.

After an awkwardly quiet breakfast, I stood and walked to the door, looking at Sert expectantly.

He looked at my in return, trying to figure out what I wanted before he snapped, his fingers, "Ah! You don't know where Aranwen is, do you?"

"Well, duh, Second! How dense are you?" Eiry spoke, and Sert chose to ignore her as he walked over to me, "Come on, I'll show you. Later Syra."

I waved to Syra, who waved back, "Bye." Her farewell sounded hollow though, no doubt she was still thinking.

Sert led me across the street and then up a flight of stairs, and low and behold Aranwen was training in the courtyard, though she was the only one there. She turned as we entered the court, "Need something?"

"Aeria here has a letter for you." Sert spoke, and I nodded, handing the letter to Aranwen.

She read it silently, before folding it up and placing it aside, "I see... Then, let's spar so I know your level, shall we?"

I nodded, and Sert stepped off to the side. Aranwen handed me a practice sword, we stepped out of arm's reach of each other, and then the spar began. Neither of us wanted to make the first move, so we both stood apart from each other, swords held in a reactive stance. Eventually Aranwen decided to take the initiative and stepped forward, before crouching and performing a windmill, only to hit air as I had recognized the stance and moved back. Once again, I stood in a reactive stance, and Aranwen stood and charged after finishing her windmill. This was my only advantage; Aranwen needed to know my level, whereas I was fairly certain she was above me. As a result, I stayed on the defensive and forced her to attack.

Her blade met my own in another, brief, but furious, exchange. She struck hard to my left shoulder, but I parried it, striking her blade as hard as I could to try and disarm her, but she pulled back. As expected, I couldn't beat her by staying on the defensive. My stamina was lower, as well as my overall physical capability. Another exchange of blows- her blade was sent forward to my diaphragm, but I knocked it off course, only for her to recover and, while my own blade was lower to block the chest-strike, hers had moved around and was no resting on my right temporal bone (6).

I sighed, lowering my blade and leaving my stance to acknowledge my defeat. Aranwen lowered her own blade and exited her stance as well, her eyes focused, analyzing our fight. Finally, she spoke, "You have some talent, there... Only eleven years old, and you lasted three rounds with me." A brief pause, "Alright, I'll train you. Be here tomorrow at five, I'll explain the day's schedule then. Use the time to find some lodgings and buy supplies... get a feel for the city."

I nodded, and stepped back as she resumed her own practice. I had already found a place to stay, but as far as supplies and knowledge of the area went, I was lacking.

"That was amazing, Aeria!" I nodded, pulling out my conversation journal and writing,

'Would you mind helping my learn about Dunbarton's layout?'

"Of course not!" He smiled, "We have a map in storage..."

Author's Note: I hate writing filler. I got bored writing this and put it off for a bit, XD. It's here now, though, and since the 'official' release pattern is one chapter per week, I'm still a week ahead of schedule (I should've only just now released chapter four, but I released it early, as well as two and three). It's a bit shorter than all the others because I just really didn't see a way to continue it and move the plot forward at the same time. On the bright side, the other chapters are also assisted by enormous author notes so... This author's note is smaller.

(1): No pun intended.

(2): In game, the only 'guard' in the entire city is the martial arts teacher, Aranwen, and maybe two nameless NPCs in the square.

(3): Edan is of Scottish, Irish, and Gaelic origin and means 'Fire'.

(4): Mentioned in previous chapters. Syra's profile and description is the first listed below.

(5): Amaranthe: Greek word. The Amaranthe is a flower that symbolizes immortality, undying passion, etc. etc.

(6): Right side of the head, just behind the eye, but in front of and above the ear. It should feel like a dent, and if you clench your jaw you should feel movement.

Name: Syralein (Seer-uh-lee-in)

Appearance: Her long, blond hair is held in a ponytail via a small white band, and several rebellious bangs hang over the left side of her face. Her ruby-colored eyes are wide and shaped almost like almonds, and her round face gives her a childish appearance, making her look a year or two younger than she is. She wears a white dress with a light brown apron over it.

Bio: Sertelein's twin sister, Sert often treats her as if she were a child even though they're twins and therefor the same age. Syra responds to this treatment with indignation, even though her personality is admittedly childish and compliments her appearance. She's known around Dunbarton for how well she cooks, and she often helps Glenis run her grocery store by cooking food and running errands in exchange for enough money to make ends meet. Even though Syra behaves childishly, those who know her and Sert agree that she's the more responsible of the siblings, as Sert only helps sporadically, whereas she keeps a steady job. Even though she lectures Sert on his irresponsible and often times, indecisive, behavior, Syra secretly wishes for him to stay the way he is, and even though Syra is childish most of the time, she acts more mature when the situation requires it. Syra's favorite saying is, "The cloud is blown by the wind across the field, and the wind never stops blowing, even after the cloud is gone."