[IC] Dark Magics

[AmazinglyVivid]

Ysolde had been out of the tower for a mere three weeks when she'd arrived in the small, idyllic border village of Mansford. It was a sleepy place, overlooked by a windmill perched on a short hill near where the houses stopped and rows of fields began. The young woman took it all in with a silent awe.

She'd passed through many such towns, but those had not exactly been sight-seeing visits. She'd pass through in the dead of night, only ever stopping long enough to eat and take a quick rest. When she was too concerned about those on her trail to do even that, she drew on the demon now inside her for extra stamina. Each time she did, she felt its presence in the back of her mind grow just a bit stronger. This did not worry her as much as it likely should have.

The day was bright and beautiful, and it coaxed her just enough out of her state of extreme caution for her to be able to, for the first time, truly enjoy her surroundings. Being on the border between the Oueendom of Maros and land owned by a loose confederation of city-states, Mansford clearly saw a lot of traffic. Few people looked at Ysolde twice, and those who did primarily did so out of concern more than anything else; to hide her inhuman eye color she wore a bandage that she'd bought a few towns before wrapped around her head.

The concept of 'buying' had been a new thing to her. She'd read about it in books, and listened with baited breath to Briar's descriptions of crowded markets after his first venture outside, but she'd never had need to purchase anything before. In the tower, everything was provided for you, with the understanding that you'd be doing the providing somewhere down the line. Mages on business out of the tower handled their own affairs, of course, but that had never been the case for Ysolde.

Following that line of thought, she frowned. The wistful feelings came creeping back. They prayed on her peace of mind. In her mind's eye, she saw moments like this as they were, according to her younger self, supposed to be; herself, a respected mage venturing out from the tower to do good and protect the innocent, her closest friend by her side... No, she stopped herself there, shaking her head as if it would shake those dreaded thoughts away. They had their choice, and so did he. They chose to deny me the arts I finally found myself to be skilled in. They'd have kept me in there my entire life if they could have. And he... The resentment and abandonment she harbored against him, fuel for the fire she'd been tending inside of herself, threatened to overwhelm her.

By now she was in the town proper. It was just before midday, and the main road that ran through the village was relatively busy. There were a few merchants' stalls lining it, and Ysolde distracted herself by taking an interest in the wares of a jewelry maker. She couldn't afford anything that he sold, having spent most of what money she'd scrounged up on her clothing; simple robes, with the outer layer a dull green and the inner layer, brown. They were something that might be seen on a bookkeeper, but never on a mage. They showed a preference for brighter colors even when not wearing the standard robes issued by the tower. She'd made sure to do always with all of those as soon as she could, of course, though she'd retained the more comfortable shoes until she realized that she could get money for them and buy a cheaper, more durable pair.

Seeing as how she was so close to the border, she felt more secure than she had in a long time. Though she was still rather on the antsy side, she allowed herself to glance at the stalls as she passed them by. To think of the marvels she'd be able to enjoy once she'd put just a few city-states between herself and any would be pursuers! Or, so she thought, It had yet to occur to her that fate would have other plans.

[ERode]

Two weeks had passed since he had first began the hunt, and Briar still found himself marvelling at how far, and how quickly that once-timid girl was travelling. Much of it must have been related to the influence of the demon that she had invoked, but nevertheless, it was impressive that he hadn't even caught a glimpse of her yet, of what she had become. Despite this though, he thought that he could applaud his horse if nothing else, for managing to steadily close the distance between Ysolde and themselves, even after Briar had spent so much time confirming tracks. He'll have to work on that, after he brings that idiot girl back to her senses and hopefully convince the higher ups of the Queendom not to execute her on the spot for heresy, treason, and what other crimes they could pin on a witch of dark magics.

The Queen must have been feeling particularly sadistic when she gave the assignment for one childhood friend to capture another, but thinking back to it, Briar decided that it was for the best.

He wasn't the best for the job, but he won't kill her on the spot for trespassing into an area of magic forbidden for all others. By now, his horse and the trail had lead him into the village of Mansford, the southern border of the Queendom, one of the places that he had become quite accustom to. It was quite often that mages would be sent to assist other city-states not annexed by the Queendom. It served both as a method of currying favor, as well as a demonstration of just how powerful the Queendom had become over the past few generations. Her Majesty was a wise queen, if not a little whimsical. This would have been the fourth time in the past two years that he had travelled to this village, but it must have been his unique armor or his androgynous face, for the innkeeper already knew his name and had prepared a room for the overnight visit that the aging man expected.

Mages paid well, after all, and Briar especially so. A life on the road provided few luxuries, and as one of the Melzaneir clan members, the idle pleasures bought by money were things that he had little time for. Might as well give it to someone who would have better use of it. Maybe that was why his name was so well-known in Mansford. It wasn't like he had much of a reputation, if he even deserved any for his overtly simplistic earth magic.

The tracks he found that morning though, were very, very fresh, pointing him directly towards Mansford, and with his horse happy in the inn stables, Briar was now on foot for the search. He made no attempt at subtlety, clad in the same golden-hue armour as allows, the morning sunlight giving it a warmer tint than normal. It drew much attention from the merchants carrying goods from the Confederation of the Azalea, and from there, it would be a simple matter to pick out those who avoided looking at him, and questioning them...if this task of his was just to patrol the border towns of the Queendom.

In truth, he wore his armor because he doubted whether his former friend, tainted by the dark magics she unlocked, would be able to resist the temptation to attack him from behind if he were not wearing such protection. Briar hated himself for such doubt, but whatever.

The few enquiries regarding a brunette were, frankly, pointless, and three weeks was a long time for a fugitive to change their appearance regardless. He wasn't even sure whether or not Ysolde was in the town anymore. Perhaps those tracks were a diversion, and she had backtracked somewhere. She was a smart one, after all. It wouldn't be unrealistic for her to put a final trick at the end of the road, and give him the slip.

God knows she's done that way too many times in the board games they used to play as children, after he thought that he had gotten a checkmate.

Resigning himself to simply watching over the road for now, Briar found himself a nice little gap between two abandoned buildings, leaned against the wall of one of them, and waited. Time would tell whether it was the right decision or not.

And in retrospect, it would have been nice if the Queen had partnered him with Tabatha. At least she had a talent for using magical means to hunt down fellow mages, unlike himself.