Resigned

I woke to a slight pillar of light that shined on my face, and I sat up. I’d managed to get a few hours of restless sleep, and as I looked into the small, silver, gilded mirror I had been left by my mother, it looked as though I had gotten all the sleep that I needed. My skin seemed to glow, and for some strange reason I felt more alive than ever, even though I knew this quest would lead me to my death. I shook my head, sighed, and hurriedly braided my hair. I put on the soft, inwardly padded leather specially made in Quinn meant to protect skin from chafing by armor. I then started putting on the armor itself, and I heard my father’s footsteps when I was halfway through this preparation.

“Fayne, we must head to the center of the village. It is time.”

“Go on without me, Father,” I said, freezing so I wouldn’t make the armor clang or anything on accident, “I’m in the midst of preparing. I will be there soon, I promise.”

“Very well.”

He never questioned me, and I heard his footsteps die away. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding and finished the last buckles on the side of my breastplate before fastening on the last of my armor; plate greaves. I secured them tightly and adjusted the thick leather boots under them. The boots were plated with metal over the whole surface, on the foot to protect me from foul play. I picked up the helmet that I had discarded on my bed, and looked at my reflection in the gleaming metal. I belted on my swords and picked up my knapsack. As I left the room I also left behind on my pillow a shining sentinel in the form of my helmet.

A murmur was going through the crowd as I approached them from behind. Linara, from her place near the fountain in the middle, caught my eye and then raised her voice above the murmur, “She has come.”

Her gaze was followed by many, and a collective gasp arose from the villagers. I strode through the path that formed rapidly among my kin and left the press of people when Father was five feet to my right and Linara five to my left. I spared a brief glance at my father as I strode toward him. I took a hunting knife I had belted on from its sheath as I walked toward him. When I neared him, I turned a back on him and planted my feet, facing the people I’d grown up around and grown to love, and took the blade of the knife to my hair. The braid fell limp in my hand and my hair fell loose about my chin, blowing in the breeze. I turned to my father then.

“I give this to you,” I said, more strongly than I had even dared hope, “as not only your daughter, but a loyal villager in this place which I call home and over which you rule. Remember me well.”

Remember me well was a traditional ending to what a Quinnish man or woman said when leaving for a quest.

“I…I shall, my daughter,” Father managed to choke out after a brief pause. He knew as well as I that it was utterly foolish to ignore the calling of a quest, and he knew with a frightened surge of realization that I was just as prepared as one could be. It was not a comfort for him to realize that I, his only heir, accepted this fate, but he was strong and he would bear it. He must.

“Thank you,” I nodded to him and stepped back to the spot between he and Linara and turned to face my fellow citizens again. “Remember me well!” I called to them loudly.

I was honored with the customary reply, “You will be remembered.”

I straightened my posture and turned to Linara and her group of six. With a proud bearing, I stated, “I am ready.”

“Then we shall be off,” Linara’s eyes flashed regret, and I knew it was because I was so young, but she should know just as well as anyone else - even better than they - that one who is Chosen cannot back out.

*

“I’m Dezni,” the red headed woman yawned as my village faded into the distance behind us. “Dezni Atra, the Red Mage of Naturia, at your service.”

I replied, in a tone both loud and full of pride, so that everyone would hear my acceptance, “My name is Fayne of Quinn, daughter of Garaz.”

“You’re the next in line for the chieftainship of Quinn, then, are you not?” asked a brunette man with a large, sort of identical, wolf loping easily beside him.

“I would have been,” I replied dryly.

“You still are,” another young man in the group said, chin set firmly. “No one is dead yet, and if it can be helped, no one will have to die. Least of all you, the next chieftain of Quinn.”

“The curse, though…” a small, timid looking Nekomimi said in an even smaller voice.

“No curse can last forever,” stated Dezni, the only one of my group whose name I knew so far other than Linara. “There is always a way for a curse to be broken…one just has to know the proper methods of going about it.”

“Let’s not discuss this now,” Linara cut across the conversation from her place at the head of the group. “Finish your introductions. If you hadn’t noticed, three of you who have spoken to Fayne have not revealed to her your names and I’m sure she’d like to know who it is she is accompanying on this Quest.”

“I am Balati,” the man with the wolf told her quickly with a nod at Linara to show that he understood her. “My companion,” he motioned to the wolf, “is known as Balatu.”

“Efari,” the young Nekomimi said tentatively, her tail twitching nervously back and forth.

“My name is Alaric,” said the light haired man who had told me that no one needed to die if it could be helped. He looked at me with a calculating gaze. He walked to my right, and I could see his pearlescent blue eyes shining from under the hair that tried to hide them as the wind blew.

“Vildor,” the other man suddenly piped up from behind, and I craned my neck to glance at him. He was also a brunette, like Balati, but his hair was honey brown and longer than Alaric’s. it fell in his eyes with or without the wind to help it, and was tied back with a thin strip of leather. A bow was strapped to his back, of standard Forlennian make, and I spotted the tell-tale tapered ears that belonged to the elfin people of Forlen.

“And you must already know of me,” Linara said from the front without turning, “but for the sake of these introductions, Fayne, I am called Linara.”

“I am pleased to meet all of you,” I said as I glanced at the company I was to travel with.

“And we are pleased to meet you,” Alaric said for everyone, and his statement was greeted with nods of agreement.

“I have something to confess to all of you before we go much farther,” Linara drew to a halt, and turned to face the members of the quest. We all stopped, waiting expectantly for whatever she was going to tell us now.

“Confess?” Dezni asked, impatient, after a brief silence. “What could there possibly be to confess to us?”

“I, too, am a member in this Quest,” Linara said, straight to the point. The silence that greeted her statement was utter. I knew, even as I looked around and counted our number with my eyes, what was coming. I saw that Efari seemed to understand, and her wide eyes found mine. I nodded in answer to the unasked question I felt was shining from her eyes and she shuddered nervously, her tail renewing its twitching with vigor.

“And…?” Dezni prompted, either not noticing what several of us had or not voicing it.

“This isn’t a normal quest,” Linara supplied simply.

The silence was drawn out. I could see sweat beading on Vildor’s forehead, and Efari’s tail would not stop its nervous twitching. Even the Nekomimi’s ears were showing signs of her twitchiness. Hard lines were etched on Alaric’s strikingly handsome features. Balati and Balatu both had creases at the corners of their closed eyes, which showed that they were communicating in the way that only the people of Yome and their animalistic companions could. Dezni, clearly not wanting to believe what she already knew to be true, twirled a fiery red lock of hair around her finger. I knew what it was, too, and I felt as Linara looked - calm, serene, and ready for the shouting or tears that may or may not come after that proclamation. No one was willing to say it out loud. I let out a soft sigh.

“It’s a Great Quest,” I finally broke the silence, unable to bear it any longer. “There are seven of us. There is a danger lurking somewhere that we probably haven’t even heard of yet. Until now, it’s been a mystery to us, but now we need to find it and get rid of it. It comes down to a simple fact; it’s either them or us - us being the seven here and every other good person in the world.”

The looks cast my way were of disbelief, sort of distraught, and eyes screamed that they knew the truth and just weren’t accepting of it.

“I…” Efari tried and failed to speak.

“But,” Dezni said, but went no farther.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” Vildor said nervously.

The others in the group nodded at his statement, agreeing.

“Efari,” I said slowly, looking at the young and trembling feline woman, “you can do it. Just don’t doubt yourself - I can see it in your eyes that you don’t think you’re good enough. Think of it like this, why don’t you - if you weren’t strong enough to help save everyone, you wouldn’t have been chosen for this. The same goes for Dezni. You are a powerful Red Mage, excelling in the art of controlling flames. Don’t you know how just how rare Red Mages are becoming? You even introduced yourself to me as the Red Mage of Naturia. That obviously means that you don’t know of any others, which can also lead to the fact that you were meant for this. You’re strong enough.

“And Vildor!” I looked at him, giving a quick examination. “You are ready. The fact that you don’t think you are just proves it. But don’t over think your actions. You can’t do that when the giant wolves are in the Forlennian Forest, can you? You’ve got to act on pure instinct. It’s what you Rangers do best, isn’t it? You’re well enough prepared for whatever it is you must do. All of us are, or we wouldn’t be right here, right now, and it’s likely that we would have never met. Isn’t that so?”

I addressed them all, breaking out of the small shell I’d built to harden my persona into that of an indifferent warrior. I then said, “Right?” when no one answered.

After a long silence, Linara said softly, “Yes. The young one speaks the truth. You are all as prepared for this as you can be, whether you are aware of it or not. When it is needed most, your bravery and your strengths will aid you, and each of you will do what is needed and what is expected of you. If you were to ignore your instincts, you will certainly die, and we may fail. I must ask this of you all, before we may go any farther…

“Are you ready?”

There was a long silence, permeated only by the breathing of the seven people and a wolf. The respiration seemed to pierce into the soundless afternoon, slicing through the thick and humid air like a knife slides through butter. And finally, as one, two of our number looked up. I met the bright blue eyes of Alaric and we spoke in unison, “I am.”

The rest had slowly voiced their assent, a trial that ended with the shy, nervous Efari. The twitching of her tail that had betrayed her nervousness had slowed to a minimum.

Once the group had all said they were ready, I looked around at their stern, worried, and determined faces, and asked, “Shall we continue?”

“Onward,” Linara agreed, and the group hefted our packs more firmly upon our shoulders. With that, we headed of, heads held high, into the day.