The Weeping storm

The Walk back was cold... colder than usual, Aetri had hoped beyond hopes that this day would not come, that they would never find him, so that He could live in his grey haze and avoid the coming destiny. But no man could avoid his destiny, his own governess had taught him as much.

This place was a fantasy to him, it wasn't always good, hell it wasn't always great, but it was better than what awaited across the sea: Screams and Flame.

Aetri cracked open the doors to the lodge, his new blade in hand, and slammed away the cold back outside. It was toasty, and warm where Lee had already lit the hearth, and He heard a gentle song echoing through as Aetri moved into the Lounge.

"Ho there, fair dragon, fold back you wings
Horde all our joy, as we drink and Sing..."

Lee was sat in her chair, her bottle usually close, far off from her, as she looked into the flames, singing to herself.

"Ho there fair dragon, stay until dawn
Breathe us a fire so we can stay warm...
Cold is my heart, without you by my hearth
I'll follow you always along the salt path..."

She did not notice Aetri, or if she did she was too lost to care, a single streaking tear falling across her cheek like a falling star. He crouched by her as she sang, listening to her song.

"Ho there fair dragon, coil up your tail
If I can't have you my ship cannot sail...
Ho there Fair Dragon, wherever He be
I will love him, and I know he loves... me."

Lee snuggled into her scarf, this Titaness Vulnerable as she tried to warm herself by the fire. "I... was married once, you know..." She started, still absent from all but the flames "It was when I was still in the legion, He was a nobleman of the Greenlands... I was a foreign soldier and he was a Lord, we had no business being together but we met in secret, sent secret messages, met under the ruin of a fallen Oak tree..." She smiled, lost in the happy memories, but just as quickly her face fell again "...But one day, He stopped coming, I tried so hard to reach him but... nothing, My heart was broken, I was distraught but I had my duties, Lord Wulda needed me, I was a general, not some quivering girl.

So one day, I heard of planned skirmish of Loyalist Soliders en route to sack a town on King Henry's orders. I joined the skirmish, thought it would help get it out of my system, Killing always felt so rotten but... it teased out my dearest emotions. Twenty strong we move under the cover of night" Lee gestured with her hands, directing them in her formation like she could take the image from her mind and paint it in the air "moving from the West ford towards the camp sight, no light, no sound, just a quick in and out. Ten dozen men undone with steel in their throats and daggers in their backs, we didn't care for chivalry, we were the Legion, we cared only for bloodshed. and we got it, before the hour was done we slit the throats of a hundred men, lowborn soliders and Highborn knights, it was pure, indiscriminate, and I had never felt so alive, even as I crept into the last tent. I couldn't see his face, He was on his side, I-I should have known He always slept on his side... he...." She touched at nothing, eyes wide as they dripped with sorrow.

Aetri took them, holding them tightly "Your lover?"

She looked at him, nodding in shame "His father had ordered him to obey the kings command on threat of death... I don't know what makes me feel sicker, the fact that I killed him, or the fact that He would have chosen to massacre innocent people over death."

Aetri's face hardened "You took your revenge?" He could see it in her eyes, He would have done so himself.

She nodded "I went to his Castle, lost it, slaughtered the nobles, killed everyone in the Parish church, priestesses, missionaries, sisters... then I took a keg of Moon spirit, just like the one we drank tonight, emptied it in the grand hall, and turned it into a charnel house.

I would have faced execution if not for Lord Wulda, He faked my death, banished me here unofficially... I could go back, everyone who knew of that time is probably dead now but... I can't go back to the place where I killed my lover and turned into a monster. I'm... I'm sorry." She whispered, earnestly.

He took her hands, soft despite all the battle they'd seen.

"You still tremble when you are too close to the Embers..." She whispered, feeling his jittering next to the fires, saw the disquiet at the sounds of the crackling flames "Do they still bother you?" She asked, nodding towards the flames.

He said nothing, unable to push the horrible sound of the hearth from his ears.

"...It will be hard, without you with me," Aetri whispered as he looked up at her "I am a warrior, a shadow, a killer... not a..." He closed his eyes, shook his head, He did not even like to think on the word.

She ran her fingers through his hair "Sometimes, when there is nothing but fire, that consumes and burns, and hates... shadows are needed, Fire fears shadow because darkness cannot be devoured..." She spoke the words, she had spoken to him every day that his sword arm failed, every day that his willpower faltered "Forever shadows speak to us, forever shadows Fly, Thou blade can never fell us...

Aetri... the Boy, smiled. They spoke together.

"...Because Shadows never die."

She nodded. His Mentor looked stronger as she grinned, reinvigorated as the both of them stood tall, understanding of their task "Kit up, and then ready Butcher and Mystery, they will not be spared it we are to make it to Skjal by sunrise."

He bowed "Yes, Mentor."

"Boy." She called. He turned, looking curious. "Bring Blackbolt.... don't look at me like that. Bring the bloody bow, we will need everything we can get, and Your a better archer than Me and Crow put together, now go, make haste."

He followed his Mentors command, heading to his room where He gathered his Arms. He buckled on his leather Plates, the gauntlets, chest piece and shinguards were hard and strong, though cheap, nothing compared against Castle-forged steel plates and mail, but he would be faster, swift as the wind.

Slinging his Black fur coat over his shoulders, He checked that Grimstorm was buckled well into its sheath on his belt, before turning his eyes... to his bow hung on the wall.

His fingers traced the delicately carved arms, etched into serpentine scales, the arcing back and belly of black mahogany carved into the shape of dragon wings, each knock pulled tight with a string of black velvet and horsehair... He thought of his mother, every time he touched a bow, especially this bow, He could still remember carving it with Black-Crow, how much he wanted one of the legendary Dragonbone bows his Governess used to tell him about.

But there was no time for dwelling on the past, he simply pulled the Recurve bow free and slung it over his shoulder, strapping his quiver to his belt "Draw from your waist, never your back, seconds cannot be wasted when a target still breathes." Crow spoke true, she had halved his drawing time with this method.

And after checking his Arrows, He marched into the Lounge "I'm all set, Men..." He paused as He saw Lee. ".......Tor."

Aetri was humbled then, for He had seen his mentor in many ways, in kilts and tank tops, farmer's garb and poor's attire, but seeing His mentor now, armed in a full suit of eastern warrior armour, the battle wear of an Easterling ready to go to war, it gave you chills.

The set was simple, ribbed plates of red steel, weaved over one another, a heavy lower guard splayed out proudly, a thick weaved breastplate paired with strange wide pauldrons that hung from her shoulders.

Upon her head was a wide-brimmed helm He knew to be called a Kabuto, the helm covered her head, and a screaming demon mask, black as iron and harder too, her emerald eyes looked between, watchful and cautious.

"Are you ready for War, Boy?" She asked lithely

He wrapped her black and wide scarf around his face, pulling up the hood of his jacket and staring resolutely "As I breathe, all shall be Silenced." Aetri whispered.

She grinned, grasping the handle of her blade in its sheath "Come, to the Horses."

It snowed, painting the Old Horse Nook, white. Its small fences glittering ivory as he approached the inside with Lee-fu at his side.

But what Aetri saw was not what he expected...

Black Crow removed her saddled from her horse; Mystery, and shifted it to a Dark Mahogany bay, shifting his wick woven saddle from the old donkey, ben, to Mystery's powerful back.

"Crow? W-What are you doing?" Aetri asked in confusion.

Crow turned to him, her face partially concealed by her hood and scarf. Her hands straightened out his scarf and pulled his hood up a little "You must be wary of this, it can constrict your sight."

He smiled, bowing his head "Thank you, Crow... but... Mystery?"

She nodded "Indeed. I am getting too Old for this Horse, she still has too much energy. You're the only other she would allow riding her. And..." She flushed slightly, her cheeks glowing "Happy Birthday... Master."

Aetri chuckled "Thank you... Akira."

Crow blinked, but bowed her head lowly and respectfully.

The Three of them set off on horseback further into the Northern boundary, through the wolven black forest and further into Skjal territory.

Mystery was a damn fierce beastie, she wasted no time in cracking through these woods like a lightning bolt, her shadowy aura speeding through the trees in strides. Aetri loved this horse dearly, always had, and she took to nobody riding her, except for Black-Crow and of course, Aetri himself.

The ride was long, and the ride was hard, but like shadows in the wind, Aetri and his companions, Shadow and Iron, pushed through into the hill-lands of Skjal, to their capitol of Jorgenvik.

Galloping fiercely into their gates, ready for battle, They found nothing and nobody to face in combat, only frightened peasants and lonely matrons. but as they galloped further into the heart of Jorgenvik, a place where Aetri had once tried to steal the legendary Skjal-horn, was indeed populated with relative warriors.

These men were old or extremely young, inexperienced and too blind to even step it was a sad display. "What is this?" Aetri whispered darkly.

"This is the sight of a City at war..." Lee whispered.

"The Warriors are out... these are the remnants of a defence," Crow muttered in agreement.

Shit... this was bad, this was really bad if the warriors were gone then where had they marched? to the West to Mawgan the slave city? or... perhaps to Uld, to burn it to dust?

"Fuck! How is this possible, how did they slip past us? Did they shuffle around the north, or sail around the south? HOW? HOW!?" He demanded fiercely... because he knew the answer, He felt it in his bone, He smelt it in the air.

An elder approached, unhorsed, walking barefoot in the mud, his long blonde hair smooth and his beard sharply braided. "They have left, Outsider." Jarl Jorgen said, his small boney form stepping gently toward him.

Grimstorm screamed as Aetri drew it, brandishing its razor-sharp tip at the Jarl as He paused "Where are your warriors? eh?" Aetri called, his eyes blazing.

Jorgen looked at Aetri patiently "You cannot hide anymore, Outsider... the Britons came, they told us everything, your little trick has lost its flare. You think that we'd simply forgive what you had done to us, stealing my horn, nearly lynching my son, now the Britons and their beast will raise Uld to the ground..." His old eyes darkened as He whispered, stroking Mystery's mane from below "...And Sir Baudwin will take you home."

A deep constricting feeling tightened across His chest as He heard the Old Jarl's words, He could feel it more clearly now, smell it in the air, the dry, stale scent in the air, it smelt like ash and serpent scales "No..." He whispered.

"Impossible." Lee confirmed on her great horse behind him "We need to move now!"

"There is no way we can beat them if we set off now... we should strangle this weasel for what he knows..." Crow suggested sharply.

"Aetri, you have to make the call Aetri... if they have a... BOY ANSWER ME, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?" Lee demanded as Aetri froze, his body hardening in his armour as He gripped the cold hilt of his blade in its sheath... Flame swept through his mind, the screams echoing inside as He looked down at the tired old man who stood below his horse.

Jorgen's eyes opened wide, something was wrong, something sharp and cold had shifted violently into his throat. The Sound drowned out, the colours diminished, and a scarlet waterfall of thick crimson fell into the mud, free from Aetri's blade.

There was a silence, but Aetri wanted to taste their fear. Whipping up Mystery to gallop around the crowds, the tip of Grimstorms blade held high to the heavens "Here me!" He roared like a beast in the tongue of the Nornes "I am the Nameless your pathetic kinsman whisper of. Know that if any man of Skjal-blood ever leaves tracks on Uld-snow again... You'll be corpses too, before the sun rises, just like your Jarl."

Lee watched you with her keen eyes of emerald, a disapproving look at the vengeance in Aetri's bright eyes. Mystery trotted hastily to Lee, who held tight to her Old Warhorse, Butcher. She was startled by his eyes, they had something that Lee-fu knew all too well: Bloodlust.

"We will plot a course, full gallop down the hill to Uld, are you with me?" His roar echoed around them, and Lee considered him with a soft judgement.

"Are you with me?" She replied. Thousand times she'd seen men fall to rage and grief... she wished better for her young companion.

But Aetri merely grunted, pulling up on his fierce darting mare, and shooting off into the shimmering woods, great rumbling clouds of thunder wrapping their wings in the great sky.

This could not be right, none of those... things could have gotten across the Sorrow sea, This place was supposed to be safe! Ah what other lies would he spin for himself? This was inevitable, fate would never let him rest until He went home. His real Home. Britannia.

The Skies shed their tears, the rain clinking against the metal of his plated leather armour. Lee looked around, the confusion melted with the snow "Spring is not for weeks yet..." She muttered, lashing Butcher to carry her after Aetri, who raced towards the village under the weeping storm above.