A Throne Built On Stars by Dragonquillca | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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Part 1: A Journey North

In the world of Uclandia

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Part 1: A Journey North

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Naledi Meridian has killed a man, and for that, she has been banished.

His death was entirely unintentional. She was hacking at the goblin, slipping in its blood, falling back under the weight of it, and her Guild-Brother stepped in too close.

There was no time to stop the arc of her sword as they locked gazes. Her blade was already on the way down. She was horrified to see it slice through his neck before it killed the goblin too.

It makes no difference that she was consumed with dismay at the ghastly thing she’d just done.

And so very sorry.

Her Brothers and Sisters in the Protectors Guild refused to speak to her. They banished her from the Guild House. Not because she made a mistake, but because she broke one of the cardinal tenants of the Protectors Guild. Never kill a fellow Guild member.

Naledi traveled to the house of his widow to give her the money Naledi had been paid for the job, as well as that of the slain man. The widow, overcome with grief and fury at having her husband taken from her, refused to speak to Naledi. So the tall fighter dropped the coins into the palm of the dead warrior's son and left.

Naledi journeyed for days to speak to Foma, the head of the Protectors Guild. She was hard to track down, considering Naledi was no longer welcome in any of the Protectors Guild Houses. But they eventually crossed paths. Foma wouldn’t listen to Naledi's side of the horrible fight, she was so filled with rage that Naledi had taken that poor man’s life.

Her first orders had been to take a shipment of weapons to a mine where some of her new Guild Brothers and Sisters were holed up. They had been attempting to secure the mine when they were attacked by goblins, apparently. Naledi was to bring them weapons and help them clear the mine of the goblins so the miners could return to work.

 At the mine, she had been warmly received by her new relieved Guild-mates. She distributed the weapons, and they got to work clearing the first part of the mine. In mere minutes, everything went terribly wrong.

"It was a horrible mistake!" Naledi cried, her green eyes full of tears. "I did not set out to kill him!

"Your intent does not matter!" Foma shouted. "You killed him all the same!"

"What can I do to make amends?"

"You want to redeem yourself?" Foma asked, a little quieter as she peered at Naledi's sand-colored hair with black streaks. "Fine, bring me twenty mountain bear pelts. Then I'll consider whether to let you back into the Protector's Guild. Until that time, you do not exist to me or the rest of the Guild," And with that, Foma turned her back on Naledi.

So she journeyed North, in search of mountain bear pelts, primarily. For they were her means of redemption. But she did not shy away from wolves either. Anything that would bring in gold so that she could feed herself along the way. She knew she could easily become a bandit and steal food and gold from the unsuspecting travelers she crossed paths with. But her elder sister had tried hard to bring Naledi up properly and it would be disrespectful to not honor Nareese's efforts. 

 

 

 

Naledi's journey the second day was made alone, for the most part. The weather held - clear skies and sunshine and she made good time. She found a few plants along the way that she knew were rare, so she harvested them and tucked them carefully away in her pack. She hoped to get a good price for them when she returned to one of the settlements. She heard wolves far off in the distance and expected them to pick up her scent and hunt her down. Blessedly, she escaped being their prey.

The road she followed went ever upward and the air was not as warm as it had been when she set out after sunrise. She had heard the north country always had snow and was bitter cold all the time. She shivered almost constantly and many times considered giving up her quest for redemption into the Protectors Guild. Was it worth freezing to death? When she had set out, she'd not been dressed for a journey such as this. She had her sturdy leather boots and leather armor, but her thin blanket didn't keep her nearly warm enough at night.

Somewhere on the road, late in the day, she was attacked by a bandit. The brigand had hidden atop a large stone beside the road, and as Naledi passed, the bandit jumped on her with a horrible shriek. Naledi twisted away from the stone out of pure impulse and it was likely due to her reflexes alone that she stayed alive. Instead of impaling her spear deep into Naledi's shoulder, the bandit instead merely scratched her. The thick leather sleeves on Naledi's tunic kept her sword arm from any further damage.

It struck Naledi later, when her nerves settled, that no matter how she wanted to deny the truth, she was a killer.

Without hesitation, she had drawn her dagger and plunged it deep into the bandit's chest. Only after her last breath did Naledi realize that she had taken another life. The truth of it - kill or be killed - did not make her feel any better. Perhaps she should have followed her aunt into the life of a scholar, she reflected, but it was far too late for that now.

The bandit wore a thick cloak of wolf pelts sewn together and a hood of the same. Naledi took them both. The bandit would no longer need them. Naledi also took the bandit's bow, a fine quiver of arrows, and a waterskin, as well as a wedge of cheese she had in her bag. Then Naledi dragged her off the road. Just because she had killed the bandit, didn't mean she had to leave her laying there. Naledi walked on for a long time after that, wondering who she had become.

As the sky began to turn pink, she found a small clearing just off the road she had been following. She decided to stop for the night and was pleased to find a stream on the far side of the clearing. She caught some fish, prepared them to cook, and made a small fire. They roasted in damp leaves below a bed of coals.

"Ancestors forgive me for the choices I've had to make," she prayed softly. "I never wanted to be a killer. I only wanted to see this great and wild country."

The stars twinkled at her from above, but were otherwise silent.

 

Naledi continued her journey North the next morning. While she expected to see no one, she was surprised to make the acquaintance of two travelers. A bonded couple, Mantius and Sinetia. They had a small camp beside the road and hailed her. They invited Naledi to sit and rest, and she accepted their offer. They told her they were journeying South because they were weary of trying to make a life in the harsh North. Sinetia told her they had both been born in Wintershire, but they were tired of the constant cold wind. A traveling merchant had told them of a community in the South where he said plants of all kinds grew. Sinetia shared her dream of becoming a Herbalist after learning of a Wise Woman who might be persuaded to take on an apprentice. She pressed a mug of herbal tea into Naledi's hands and told her the names of the herbs in it. Many of which Naledi forgot a moment later. But it was hot and rather good.

Mantius had the build of a fighter, so Naledi asked him if he was in the Protectors Guild while she privately hoped he was not, considering the reason for her current quest. He replied that he had been trained as a carpenter and had built some houses back in Wintershire. He was hoping to find work using his building skills. When he asked where she journeyed, she merely told him that she was adventuring North to see the country. She said nothing of her banishment from the Protectors Guild and the redemption fee of bear pelts. They both invited her to visit them on her return. They had plans to settle in or around Casarces Village and they promised her she would be most welcome. Naedi assured them that she would visit and after a second mug of herbal tea, she left their camp and continued on her own journey. 

She followed the road for many hours, seeing no one. It grew colder as the day grew long and she pulled her ill-begotten wolf cloak tighter around her. When she could spot them, the plants were shorter, thinner, and more wind-blown. She had left the trees behind. All around her were bare rocks, an open sky, and road. If her memory was correct, she expected to come upon a town in the next couple of days. Wintershire, the map called it. Mantius had told her the town had been built into the side of a mountain, with the other three sides surrounded by a high stone wall, and protected by Guards who perpetually scowled. The town was built on a series of terraces. She hadn't heard a lot of positive things about Wintershire, but perhaps someone there would know where she could find bears.

When she made camp for the night and built her fire, a nagging thought kept nipping at her.

'Why am I doing this? Why do I want redemption so badly?'

But she knew the answer. For acceptance. 

Naledi had never been anyone special while she was growing up. As long as her days were filled with family and food and safety, she had been happy. Years after their lives imploded and robbed them of their family, when she left her sister to hopefully find fortune and make her way in the world, she still did not know what her future held. 

She had eaten the last of the smoked fish and had a cupful or two of spring water. Her mind wandered back to her Sire’s family. She remembered one of his sisters was a scholar who also told people's fortunes. She had come to stay with Naledi and her sister Nareese once, in Naledi's youth. Aunt Eri wore a copper circlet around her head with a ruby in the middle and a dark red robe. She told Naledi she lived in the North, where people would leave her alone and not ask any questions. Naledi also remembered her aunt's stories about the cold. She had said it took a special kind of toughness to live in an inhospitable land that wanted to kill you. Naledi thought she was most fascinating.

'It would be nice if I could find her,' Naledi thought. While she cast back through her memories for clues to where Eri lived, Naledi put more wood on the fire and curled up in her pathetically thin blanket. Hopefully, she could buy a nice thick wool one when she got to Wintershire.

The morning started innocently enough. Naledi's fire had gone out during the night, so she satisfied herself with a cupful of cold spring water before she drowned the ashes. Just to be safe. She suspected everything was too frozen to burn, but better caution than regret, as she'd come to learn. Hunger provided her with focus and speed. It was her intent to reach Wintershire before dark. She did not stop to eat except once, to pluck a handful of berries that she knew were safe.

The road became quite angled sometime during the day, and she knew she was getting close. She recalled Mantius and Senetia telling her how steep the road gets as a traveler grows closer to the city. She had had to stop a few times to catch her breath.

'How do horses traverse this road without slipping?' she wondered.

Sometime late in the afternoon, while Naledi caught her breath against a large boulder, she could hear the sounds of someone slipping and cursing their way down the path above her. As the sounds grew closer and pebbles began to bounce down the path, she put her hand on her sword. There was no way to know if it was a bandit above her or another traveler who was having a hard time with the incline of the road.

The cursing came from a young man whose eyes widened when he spotted her hand resting lightly on her sword. He threw his hands out, palms out so that she could see he held no weapon and begged her to let him live another day. He told stammered that he meant no harm, he only wanted to know if she had seen another traveler. His name, he said, was Dorian. He claimed to be the official messenger from Count Aren. She let go of her sword and asked him who he sought.

She grew suspicious when he said,

"Naledi Meridian."

She told him who she was and asked him what the Count wanted with her. Dorian shrugged. He replied that he had only been instructed to fetch Naledi to Wintershire, he had not been told why. Dorian continued by telling her they were only a few hours from the city, but if they were to hurry, they could make it in less time. Naledi replied that hurrying was unlikely on a road this steep and pushed on up the thoroughfare.

Thankfully, the road leveled out after a while and they made better time. It had been pounded smooth by many feet and in places, even offered a pleasant view as they climbed higher into the mountains. As the sky darkened, they came within sight of Wintershire's walls. And none too soon either. The wind howled like a living creature and blew the biting snow into their faces. The guards opened the city gate for them, and when Dorian told one of them who the woman was, he seemed relieved. The guard told Naledi a woman was asking for her, and that he’d been given instructions to escort her. They hurried along the street that was rapidly accumulating snow, both of them clutching their cloaks around them to keep out the howling wind. Finally, the guard stopped in front of a rough-hewn log house with fieldstone steps. He told Naledi that the Count had sent instructions when Seer Eri's kin was found, they should be brought here, to the Healer's house.

"Eri !?! My aunt?" Naledi responded.

The guard merely shrugged before he turned back toward the front gate of Wintershire.

Naledi pushed the door open, and stepped in…

The house had one room, and as the guard shut the door behind her, Naledi peered about, trying to find her aunt. There was a woman bent over a chest, but her back was to the door.

“Eri?” Naledi asked. But as the woman turned, it was obvious she was not Eri. She was far too old, for one thing.

“And who are you, bursting in here?” she asked.

“The guards, and the Count’s messenger, told me she’s asking for me. She’s my aunt,” Naledi replied.

“She may have been at one time, but she isn’t asking for anyone now. She died in the night. You never said who you were,” The stranger replied as she squinted at her visitor.

“Naledi Meridian,” she replied. “She died?”

The Northerner nodded and closed the chest lid. “She did. The Wasting Disease. She’d been sick with it for a few months. I couldn’t do much beyond ease her pain, I’m sorry to say.”

Naledi felt as if a hand had seized her by the throat and was squeezing, stopping the words that wanted to get out. She was still standing in the doorway, snow melting on her cloak.

“You’d better come in here and have something warm,” the stranger said as she motioned Naledi forward. Her white hair brushed her shoulders, hunched a little with age. She had vivid blue eyes that watched Naledi carefully as if she was assessing her worthiness.

Naledi did as she'd been told, slipping her cloak off and hanging it on a peg that jutted out from the wall nearby. She crossed the house to the fire and held her hands out to the heat. After a few moments, she sensed movement at her side.

“Here,” the old woman thrust a cup in her direction. “Drink this, it’ll warm your insides too.”

“Thank you,” Naledi took the cup and peered inside. “What is it?”

“Herbal tea, to give you energy. My name is Tabris. I attended to your aunt in her last few days. When did you last see her?”

“Years ago. I didn’t know she was ill, or I would have come sooner. She was my favorite relative. I never set out to find her, I was just…wandering. The Count’s messenger found me on the road.”

Tabris nodded and gazed into the fire. “She sought me out some time after her return from a trip south. She said she was feeling drained and tired all the time, and nothing she had tried was having any effect. We tried a number of different potions and herbs. But nothing worked. I went up to Stagfrost to see her just a couple of months ago. She had been curled up by the fire. If she'd been in her bed, she'd never have heard me banging on the door. Said she hadn’t been able to move very far in days. The tower was cold as a witch's tit, I’ll tell you. I stayed with her, cleaned her up, nursed her into a little more strength, and made arrangements to bring her back here, where I could make her more comfortable.”

“Wait,” Naledi said, holding up a hand. “A couple of months? Her health failed that fast?”

Tabris nodded. “I tried to get nourishing soups and teas into her, but they didn’t stay down long. She couldn’t keep anything in her stomach, her hair fell out and she grew thinner and thinner, didn’t matter what I did. That’s why Healers call it the Wasting Disease. Those that get it just waste away, no matter what treatment is tried. But you should take comfort in the fact that in her last days, she slept more than she was awake. Before that though, she left something for you.” 

Tabris went back to the chest and withdrew a scroll from within. She handed it to Naledi. “You might want to sit down,” she pointed to a chair. 

Naledi sat more heavily than she'd intended. Setting her cup on the floor beside her, she unrolled the scroll and began to read.

Naledi,

I hoped to tell you this in person, but I fear we will not meet again in this world. I enjoyed the time we have spent together in this life. You were my favorite of all our shared family, and when I gazed at you, it was as if I had gone back to my own youth. For that reason, I am leaving you Stagfrost. You will find it an interesting place to live I hope. Be sure and explore everything. I always intended for you to have it when I was gone. You will find many surprises and mysteries to entertain you, I think.

I have sealed it with a spell. Only you can open it. Lay your hand upon the center of the door and speak your name. The tower will recognize you and allow you entrance. This is the only way it may be entered from the outside.

I wish I could be here to tell you all this in person, but I trust Tabris to ensure you receive this scroll and the deed to Stagfrost.

May we meet in the afterlife,

Your aunt,

Eri

“Well, shards!” Naledi growled. “If only I’d come sooner! Now what do I do?”

To be continued...

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