Soulfire
Gentle waves lapped the sands of Fort Ruddlers harbor, the soft sound of the slowly rising tide whispering a lullaby to the ships that rode each minute swell. A salt-scented breeze drifted in from the ocean, teasing the grasses that stubbornly clung to the small nourishment offered by the damp sand. A bright moon, golden and round, cast its light upon the sea, a path of silver-gold that ended at the dark silhouette of a squirrel. She sat motionless on the pier, her only movement being the slight ruffle of red-brown fur, of a gold-brown tail blown flat by a change of the fickle sea breeze, letting the sounds of the ships creaking their midnight snores, of the waves lapping at the wind-dulled hulls wrap her in a thick blanket of relaxation.
Relaxation, perhaps- but not peace. Not on this night. Never on this night, a month into spring, the night shed lost everything all over again the night of Aeloeins death. She could not forget him, despite times passage, despite his wishes she could not forgive his killer and she could not forgive herself.
Soulfires of the dreaming night
What dramas have you seen?
Secrets held in your pale light,
Each long-forgotten scene.
A clear soprano voice wove a gentle song through the cool night air, a plaintive lullaby that questioned the stars above. Riala Goldentails gaze drifted to the silver specks of light in the nighttime sky, staring beyond them to the past. Soulfires That was what Aeloein had called the stars, telling her legends of his northern clan in his soft northland accent. Tha be soulfires, he explained, lying on the deck of a ship, one calloused red-furred paw sweeping across the unclouded skies, taking in each glistening star. Each be th souls o a bravebeast, a goodbeast through an through, one who willnae depart tae Dark Forest because they wish tae watch oer th clan they left behind.
Her reply rang clear in her memory, even now after so many seasons. Do you think my father is up there?
Aye, Aeloein agreed after a long silence, pale gray eyes thoughtful. Aye, I do believe he be there, watchin oer ye till ye reach Dark Forest. Then an only then shall he rest, descend tae th forest dark in a stream o flame, what ye fraends th southlanders name a comet.
Riala drew her attention back to the present, gold-brown eyes fixed on the stars, a renewed sense of loss tearing at her heart. Aeloein she whispered to the night sky. Ael, is your soulfire there? Watching waiting?
Soulfires in the skys dark veil,
Have you seen love begin?
Breath of life gently inhaled,
A spark of life within.
She closed her eyes as the next verse flowed over and through her, calling up old memories to the fore. Memories of a dark morning, as stormy as her soul, sunk deep in shadow and hate. Seeing the gleam of liquid red on her dagger blade, a tentative breaking of the skin, unsure and uncertain. How welcome death had appeared, how close shed come to taking her own life and then a shout had rung in her ears, the blade slicing deep, making her choice for her as she jerked, startled, and then darkness.
Light, flickering firelight, and her eyes had opened slowly. Weak shed been so weak, so cold. A ginger-red squirrel had been the one whod shouted, the one who had bandaged her slashed wrist. He introduced himself as Aeloein yDaierou, a traveling bard and healer. She couldnt hide behind a mask of indifference with him, couldnt block off her emotions, couldnt hide within the labyrinth of her soul, not with he who had seen her in the very depths of night. He knew she was not the cold, emotionless fighter she pretended to be and he wouldnt let her sink to those depths againm, wouldn't let her go as far as to put that blade against her wrist again. He saved her life and he saved her soul. She hated him for it, couldnt escape from him, yet didnt truly want him to leave her alone. And gradually she came to love him.
Soulfires beyond stormy skies,
Have you seen lifes end?
Last breath gone with rattling sigh,
Souls to the stars ascend.
She hadnt traveled with Aeloein for even a season He was more a bard, more a healer than a warrior, playing his delicately built lute in exchange for meal and board. Riala stayed in the background as was her wont, defending against vermine when need be. Traveling together, the first traveling companion shed had since her father died.
And then the wolverine came
The scene played across her mind as if occurring for the first time, a macabre drama from her past. A peaceful forest, but the birds were noiseless, frightened into silence by a nameless menace. Shed noticed it all too late, she should have guessed, she should have known but she didnt, not until six vermin had erupted from the brush, blades tickling squirrel throats.
A silky, teasing voice, the hint of a guttural growl making it low and rich, long claws and sharp fangs, red brown eyes a wolverine. Hate flaring, bringing lips back to show sharp teeth, but there was a warning knife at her throat, at Aels throat. And then the wolverine had spoken to Aeloein, smug words telling of his past, driving him to action. He had ducked beneath the blades and kicked out, dropping a weasel. Drew out throwing knives
Shed fallen to the ground, attacked the vermin about her with roce and dagger, not fast enough, not close enough, too many to make it in time! Her attention fixed on Aeloein as he loosed two daggers, one embedding itself in the wolverines shoulder, the other in her stomach. Saved one dagger for defense, not expecting that the wolverine could still attack, could brave the pain, balm it in rage, lash out with gauntleted claws as deadly as any sword
Aeloein!
Shed screamed it as his throat was slashed, blood spurting from the wound, and the vermin fell away like autumn leaves before winters first harsh gale. Caught the wolverines paw across her shoulder, across her chest, then charged inside the vermins reach, had driven her dagger up through the dark-furred chin to the brain.
Soulfire above a grieving globe,
Have you seen fading pain?
Aching loss in false cheer robed,
A sorrows dark refrain.
The third verse brought her back to herself, back to the present, gold-brown eyes burning with remembered grief. Somehow Aeloein had been able to speak with a ravaged throat, his lifeblood soaking the ground. Telling her not to harm herself because of him, to keep living, to remain safe in body and in soul. And then hed died
Riala gazed up at the stars with an intent stare, as if they could answer her unvoiced pleas, give her solace, lend relief from this constant ache of the soul. Aeloein, Im trying, I truly am, but She blinked rapidly as the pinpoint lights swam in her vision, altered by unshed tears. Im so alone Loneliness was a gaping pit in her heart, grief an emptiness in her soul, an almost unbearable ache.
Soulfires fading with the dark,
Have you seen the dawn?
Night flees with the suns first sparks,
The day has scarce begun.
The last verse of the song was accompanied by a strong, rich baritone, comforting yet painfully familiar. A single star pulsed in time with the final line of hope, bright silver winking down at the gold-tailed squirrel below. A voice not heard in seasons by any ears but those of Rialas memory drifted to her hearing and her heart, a caress of the soul that drifted on the wind.
Ill always be here, Raeila. Aels name for her, spoken in his lilting northern accent.
Always.
The suns first rays touched distant clouds with a gold-dipped brush, pastel fires turning the sky into a living opal, the stars fading with the shadowed night. Riala Goldentail rose from her vigil on the swaying dock, drew in a cleansing breath, and turned her face to the warmth of the sun, welcoming the new day.
Gentle waves lapped the sands of Fort Ruddlers harbor, the soft sound of the slowly rising tide whispering a lullaby to the ships that rode each minute swell. A salt-scented breeze drifted in from the ocean, teasing the grasses that stubbornly clung to the small nourishment offered by the damp sand. A bright moon, golden and round, cast its light upon the sea, a path of silver-gold that ended at the dark silhouette of a squirrel. She sat motionless on the pier, her only movement being the slight ruffle of red-brown fur, of a gold-brown tail blown flat by a change of the fickle sea breeze, letting the sounds of the ships creaking their midnight snores, of the waves lapping at the wind-dulled hulls wrap her in a thick blanket of relaxation.
Relaxation, perhaps- but not peace. Not on this night. Never on this night, a month into spring, the night shed lost everything all over again the night of Aeloeins death. She could not forget him, despite times passage, despite his wishes she could not forgive his killer and she could not forgive herself.
Soulfires of the dreaming night
What dramas have you seen?
Secrets held in your pale light,
Each long-forgotten scene.
A clear soprano voice wove a gentle song through the cool night air, a plaintive lullaby that questioned the stars above. Riala Goldentails gaze drifted to the silver specks of light in the nighttime sky, staring beyond them to the past. Soulfires That was what Aeloein had called the stars, telling her legends of his northern clan in his soft northland accent. Tha be soulfires, he explained, lying on the deck of a ship, one calloused red-furred paw sweeping across the unclouded skies, taking in each glistening star. Each be th souls o a bravebeast, a goodbeast through an through, one who willnae depart tae Dark Forest because they wish tae watch oer th clan they left behind.
Her reply rang clear in her memory, even now after so many seasons. Do you think my father is up there?
Aye, Aeloein agreed after a long silence, pale gray eyes thoughtful. Aye, I do believe he be there, watchin oer ye till ye reach Dark Forest. Then an only then shall he rest, descend tae th forest dark in a stream o flame, what ye fraends th southlanders name a comet.
Riala drew her attention back to the present, gold-brown eyes fixed on the stars, a renewed sense of loss tearing at her heart. Aeloein she whispered to the night sky. Ael, is your soulfire there? Watching waiting?
Soulfires in the skys dark veil,
Have you seen love begin?
Breath of life gently inhaled,
A spark of life within.
She closed her eyes as the next verse flowed over and through her, calling up old memories to the fore. Memories of a dark morning, as stormy as her soul, sunk deep in shadow and hate. Seeing the gleam of liquid red on her dagger blade, a tentative breaking of the skin, unsure and uncertain. How welcome death had appeared, how close shed come to taking her own life and then a shout had rung in her ears, the blade slicing deep, making her choice for her as she jerked, startled, and then darkness.
Light, flickering firelight, and her eyes had opened slowly. Weak shed been so weak, so cold. A ginger-red squirrel had been the one whod shouted, the one who had bandaged her slashed wrist. He introduced himself as Aeloein yDaierou, a traveling bard and healer. She couldnt hide behind a mask of indifference with him, couldnt block off her emotions, couldnt hide within the labyrinth of her soul, not with he who had seen her in the very depths of night. He knew she was not the cold, emotionless fighter she pretended to be and he wouldnt let her sink to those depths againm, wouldn't let her go as far as to put that blade against her wrist again. He saved her life and he saved her soul. She hated him for it, couldnt escape from him, yet didnt truly want him to leave her alone. And gradually she came to love him.
Soulfires beyond stormy skies,
Have you seen lifes end?
Last breath gone with rattling sigh,
Souls to the stars ascend.
She hadnt traveled with Aeloein for even a season He was more a bard, more a healer than a warrior, playing his delicately built lute in exchange for meal and board. Riala stayed in the background as was her wont, defending against vermine when need be. Traveling together, the first traveling companion shed had since her father died.
And then the wolverine came
The scene played across her mind as if occurring for the first time, a macabre drama from her past. A peaceful forest, but the birds were noiseless, frightened into silence by a nameless menace. Shed noticed it all too late, she should have guessed, she should have known but she didnt, not until six vermin had erupted from the brush, blades tickling squirrel throats.
A silky, teasing voice, the hint of a guttural growl making it low and rich, long claws and sharp fangs, red brown eyes a wolverine. Hate flaring, bringing lips back to show sharp teeth, but there was a warning knife at her throat, at Aels throat. And then the wolverine had spoken to Aeloein, smug words telling of his past, driving him to action. He had ducked beneath the blades and kicked out, dropping a weasel. Drew out throwing knives
Shed fallen to the ground, attacked the vermin about her with roce and dagger, not fast enough, not close enough, too many to make it in time! Her attention fixed on Aeloein as he loosed two daggers, one embedding itself in the wolverines shoulder, the other in her stomach. Saved one dagger for defense, not expecting that the wolverine could still attack, could brave the pain, balm it in rage, lash out with gauntleted claws as deadly as any sword
Aeloein!
Shed screamed it as his throat was slashed, blood spurting from the wound, and the vermin fell away like autumn leaves before winters first harsh gale. Caught the wolverines paw across her shoulder, across her chest, then charged inside the vermins reach, had driven her dagger up through the dark-furred chin to the brain.
Soulfire above a grieving globe,
Have you seen fading pain?
Aching loss in false cheer robed,
A sorrows dark refrain.
The third verse brought her back to herself, back to the present, gold-brown eyes burning with remembered grief. Somehow Aeloein had been able to speak with a ravaged throat, his lifeblood soaking the ground. Telling her not to harm herself because of him, to keep living, to remain safe in body and in soul. And then hed died
Riala gazed up at the stars with an intent stare, as if they could answer her unvoiced pleas, give her solace, lend relief from this constant ache of the soul. Aeloein, Im trying, I truly am, but She blinked rapidly as the pinpoint lights swam in her vision, altered by unshed tears. Im so alone Loneliness was a gaping pit in her heart, grief an emptiness in her soul, an almost unbearable ache.
Soulfires fading with the dark,
Have you seen the dawn?
Night flees with the suns first sparks,
The day has scarce begun.
The last verse of the song was accompanied by a strong, rich baritone, comforting yet painfully familiar. A single star pulsed in time with the final line of hope, bright silver winking down at the gold-tailed squirrel below. A voice not heard in seasons by any ears but those of Rialas memory drifted to her hearing and her heart, a caress of the soul that drifted on the wind.
Ill always be here, Raeila. Aels name for her, spoken in his lilting northern accent.
Always.
The suns first rays touched distant clouds with a gold-dipped brush, pastel fires turning the sky into a living opal, the stars fading with the shadowed night. Riala Goldentail rose from her vigil on the swaying dock, drew in a cleansing breath, and turned her face to the warmth of the sun, welcoming the new day.
