Ghost of The Past

[Lorena]

21 Saun 716

Comfortable at the table of a candle lit tavern, it was a quiet evening and most of the patrons had taken to minding themselves while a small group of men were contentedly sitting around a table playing a game called hex. The point of the game was you had seven cards that could pass a hex around the table until it finally landed on another player, the hex only last until someone activated it or so many turns had gone by. If a player were to activate the hex on another they would receive half of their counters and the person with the most counters at the end won. As much a game of strategy as it was diplomacy, other people are able to play automatic cards that interrupt the directions of certain things it said they could, the game could go any way.

Sat between two men at the table, Lorena herself hand only just got a handle on the game as the two figures sat beside her methodically showed her what to do while sharing a bottle of mead between them. Unlike the usual rowdy lot, this group of individuals were placid in temperament and were playing for fun rather than money and the pleasant sound of their laughter filled the small establishment with a warm, communal feeling.

Mildly confused by the game, maybe due to the mild amount of wine she'd been sharing or maybe due to the fact the game occasionally became complicated when combos went off between people and they went fast. The moment the hex landed on her, she hesitated. If she held it for longer than ten seconds it would blow up on her and she didn't want to loose the plethora of counters she had miraculously gained and suspected that the two boys beside her were probably sacrificing a mild portion of their hand to help out the beginner.

"I send it...left?" she said placing down a card with and arrow to the left of her, hoping the man wouldn't be too agitated; she felt bad. A broad smile lit up the bearded man's face, he wasn't incredibly handsome, if anything he was incredibly plain and balding but he'd been more than a gentleman. He was known among this lot as 'Digger.'

"Don't worry about it," he replied, placing down his own card "Across the table."
"Git," another blonde haired bloke with a strange looking nose cursed to the man beside her.
A grin appeared across Digger's face " 'urry up an get rid of it then."

Lowering her head Lorena studied her cards for a moment to try and plan her next move, only to meet the eyes of the other man sitting beside her, he was better looking than digger with short brown hair and green eyes tinted with a touch of brown. However he was also far more complacent and very difficult to read. For whatever reason, she felt like there was a touch of fondness behind the mask of his mysterious and sorrowful expression that she couldn't explain, Jash'yon he had called himself.

The man handed her a flask to drink from and she shook her head "I'm fine thank you."

[Malcolm]

Malcolm entered the tavern closely behind Godric. The two of them had spent the whole day chasing ghosts and after stopping by an address, which had been their only lead, they had found the property abandoned. Now, Malcolm was ready to call it a night. They had both had a late night the evening before and he wasn't looking to repeat that.
"What would you say to a little nightcap?" Godric elbowed the man and pointed his gaze at the bar.
The knight looked up at the bar only to quickly avert his gaze as he found himself staring into the eyes of a young, blonde waitress. "Please tell me you mean a drink," he mumbled.
"Of course?" The man raised his arms, wearing a large, toothy grin.
"I suppose I'm paying?"
Godric balled his fist and punched the knight's left shoulder, colliding with a firm, unexpected thump that knocked Malcolm off balance and caused him to stumble sides. "You're a champion among men, Malcolm! Really, one of the finest guys I know."
Malcolm did not look amused by this unbridled praise. "Wine," he barked, and set two silver pieces in the man's open palm.
"I was thinking something stronger, we are hitting the road early tomorrow."
"And have nothing to celebrate tonight," Malcolm sneered.
"Come on, loosen up a little, that stick up your ass has to be terribly uncomfortable."
"Watch it," the knight quipped, "or I'll take it out for two bits and beat you to death with it."
Godric slapped the man's shoulder and sauntered off. "Wine it is, good ser!"

Peace at last, the man thought, throwing himself down in a chair at a table away from the door and live music. He put his right foot up on the chair beside his, as if to save a spot for Godric, and when the man didn't return in a timely manner, it was joined by the left. Malcolm watched his comrade talk to the woman behind the bar, but from this distance was unable to make out what they were saying. It didn't take long before the silver was exchanged, but not for the kind of service Malcolm had hoped.
As Godric disappeared down the hallway towards their rented room with the waitress in tow, Malcolm put his feet down flat on the floor and stared after them until they disappeared, realising only then that he wasn't going to get that drink. "Filthy fucking bastard," he grumbled and folded his arms, now he supposed he would have to wait for the two of them to finish before he could go to bed. "Biqaj," he scoffed, he had been looking forward to that nightcap.

[Lorena]

Boisterous in the backdrop of the quiet tavern the shouts of knightly looking men made Lorena roll her eyes, what were they to do with themselves if they couldn't 'announce' themselves after all. Typically as per tradition she eyed the two who had come in and looked between them to decide whether they were good enough eye candy for her to pay attention to, only on closer expression did she realise who had walked through the door.

"Uncle Mal," she blurted her eyes following the dark haired individual to the bar. The father of the boy she had once fallen in love with was standing at the same very bar with his back turned to her, not aged by a single day. He had to be an old man by now, that couldn't be him! Surely? Lorena's mind drifted back to when she had crushed on his son, Vaughn and tried her best to be a good little girl around the Kromes (which her mother never really fully understood.) There was little she wouldn't have done as a child to make Uncle Mal and his son proud of her.

"That's your uncle?" Jash'yon asked, pivoting around to study the two figures speculatively "...Go and say hello."

"I-" Lorena was at a lost for words as she watched the man she once knew sit down at one of the tables next to her, completely oblivious to who she was "I can't."

The man beside her gave her a calm, reserved smile and signalled toward him "We'll be here."

Flushed for words and mildly agitated that this might be the end of her secret, she was going to kick herself if she went to say hello and she would have kicked herself if she didn't. The moment of truth finally fell on her shoulders, she would have to fess up to being alive after all these years and Uncle Mal was probably going to tell her off as always. The elder nobles never ceased to stop telling her what she should and shouldn't do.

Adorned in nothing more than a simple white shirt and brown leather breeches, Lorena was embarrassed to present herself to the handsome dark haired man that looked like her uncle. "Fine," she muttered, getting up to wander over to him. This would be thick, she hated being in trouble; especially when she cared.

"Uncle Mal..." her voice was scarecly more than a whisper, the usually deep brown of her eyes changed into a conflicted coppery hue "It has been a long time."

[Malcolm]

The little noise in the tavern became even less as Lorena approached and addressed the man just as she had done three year ago before her strange and unexplained disappearance. His son Vaughn had been so distraught, refusing the believe that she was dead, and it seemed he had been right. Well, at least this explained why the boy had gotten over it all so quickly and returned to his usual mischief, the two of them were probably still in contact.
Malcolm twisted in his chair to look at her, recognising her dark eyes and long hair instantly. A bout of guilt kicked him in the gut as he considered telling her she had the wrong person, too late now that he had paid attention to the nickname. Malcolm, after all, wasn't Lorena's actual uncle, but their families had been so close growing up that the name had just sort of stuck.
"Little Wren," he got to his feet, hesitated, and then hugged the young woman. "So this is where you've been hiding. We've missed you, your family has missed you," he backed off and sat down again, Lorena's friends were watching. "Vaughn hasn't changed, I'm surprised he didn't go with you," the man admitted quietly and glanced across at Lorena's table, where the men sat around it suddenly scrambled for their cards and tried to look busy.
"Sit," he pointed to the chair in front of him, using the same tone he had adopted whenever he had scolded his sons as children. Malcolm crossed his arms. "You best have a good explanation, or excuse as to why I shouldn't march you down to the waterfront and put you on the first boat bound for Rynmere."

[Lorena]

She was young, she wanted to play and run with the wind. Wanted to let the sky spin and the wind carry her in any direction it chose to go, Lorena wanted to be free. Her heart sank as she remembered the scars that she had inflicted on the ones she loved and sacrificed their hearts so she would not live a life of torture. Arcs had gone by since her oat sank and Vaughn had been angry at her at first, but to take him with her would have been to renounce both of their titles and as much as the man she loved had loathed his father for being away so often, he was a man of family. "I missed you too," she said, a soft chirp of laughter releasing from her lips.

Malcolm's words were sharp like the jagged edges of the rocks scattered across the Ne'haer shorelines, they hurt; even if he had every right to be angry for what she had done. "I never stopped loving him Mal," she admitted aloud, averting her eyes away from the intensity of his stare "...to marry Peake Andaris." A lump caught in her throat and fear returned to her face. There was nothing worse to her than the thought of being forced to bed with a man who would look at her like some useless untamed swine that had little worth other than to be an object to dote upon.

Crying held little dignity in the face of friends that eyed the two over their shoulders and she turned away from them, offering her hand out to Malcolm "I ask that we talk elsewhere," she whispered quietly, in the fear being loud might betray the shakiness in her voice "I would rather speak where I might be more open with you, Lord Krome." Even in her childhood Lorena very rarely resorted to the use of titles, when she did it often meant she was about to say something that was important. Even her mother used to shut up when Lorena called her by her formal name.

"The secrets of our hearts should not be left so widely open for so many eager ears..." she told him, forcing herself to smile. If Malcolm wanted her to speak, then they would have to buy a room and speak there. Lost time usually made up for deep and serious discussion that held no business of the surrounding company.

[Malcolm]

"Outside then," he pointed before ushering the woman beyond the door to stand out on the terrace. He looked at a man stood smoking against the rail and waved him off. The tall, thin man seemed to size Malcolm up, caught one look at the man's long-sword and thought better of it. Malcolm was not the kind of man to follow young women into rented rooms, even if it was a thousand miles from home. He shut the doors leading out onto the terrace and sat back against the corner where the two rails met.
"I'm not a lord anymore. Vanessa is dead and my sons hold title in Krome." Malcolm knew very well that Vanessa wasn't dead, but thought if Vaughn was writing to Lorena, there was a chance she knew as well, and if that were the case, he would know his son's heart.
The crickets outside were singing loudly and for a few-long-seconds, Malcolm sat just listening to the night hum all around him. It was peaceful and yet within a storm was building momentum. How different would things have been if Lorena had stayed and married Vaughn? Their family would have been a lot more settled, but then... He might never have met Elyna. She was his family now.
"A lot has changed, I married one of your cousins, Elyna. I don't think Vaughn was too impressed, but then you know what he's like. We are expecting and come Vhalar the life I once lived will seem nothing but a distant memory. I'm sure if you returned you would be welcomed with open arms, and now that Lord Andaris is to be married, or perhaps already is," Malcolm couldn't remember what he had read in the gazette, "you can tell your parents what you want. You managed to survive three arcs alone, I doubt they will refuse you if it means keeping you close."

[Lorena]

Begrudgingly the young woman held her tongue and followed Malcolm outside. As much as the man was a knight, she thought that man ignorant of the stretch of humanoid hearing. Especially with the Sev'ryn, those lot were weird. Only moments later the man explained the 'situation' to her that her eyes widened at the mention of his marriage to Elyna and she almost felt sick. It was wrong. Steadily eyeing the individual before her with suspicion, either Vaughn was lying to her or he was.

"Why?" the singular word escaped her lips as she withdrew herself from the closeness she had been willing to share. It quickly became apparent to her that in her absence the lives of her family had become ridiculously complicated, did Elyna really fall in love with an already married man? She thought more of her cousin than that.

Pain entered Lorena's expression and she turned away from Malcolm, using the balcony to catch her weight in the rush of concern passing through her thoughts. "Liar," she scowled, looking out toward the bay "Scoundrel. Dishonest. Disloyal, is that who you truly are Baron Krome? I never believed it until now. Why would you lie to me?" Respect tasted like a bad apple at the tip of her tongue and she turned to him, pointed in her confusion "You hurt Vaughn more than anyone, you have no right to lecture me. If marry your son now... my cousin is going to be my mother in law and her child will be my sibling."

Malcolm had abandoned his son in marriage and now condemned him too, if Lorena were to marry Vaughn now she'd be the laughing stock of every social circle in all of the seven houses and so would he. Collecting her thoughts Lorena breathed, taking in the lively atmosphere of the markets below them. Vaughn was something of a serious subject for her, she had loved him and she still did "I don't know your reasons, hell. I don't even know who you are anymore, but I address you now uncle Mac as the girl who once admired you. Please, stop hurting your son. Let it stop now. I will return to him soon, Peake Andaris is soon to be wed and I will have no part in marriage with that man."

[Malcolm]

Malcolm remained silent as he let the woman vent her frustrations, opinions that meant little to him any more. Vanessa, a woman he had loved for forty years, had raised and family with, and built a life for, had poisoned him. It was only by his father's good graces that he had been allowed to return to life, and nothing and no one was going to stop him from leading the life he wanted. This girl did not deserve an explanation, nor would she get one, if she did not know Malcolm after all these years, she never would.
It had never been his intention to hurt her, or Vaughn, or anyone he cared for, but the man was growing tired of the restrictions mortals set for themselves. He wanted Elyna and she wanted him too, if that hurt anyone's pride, they need only turn their backs and give the couple one less to worry about. Vaughn had a misguided sense of loyalty, he always had, and though he respected his mother, Malcolm knew there would be no love lost when she finally passed. At least he had the truth, Vaughn was still in contact with this girl, and Vanessa was very much alive, a secret not even her own son could keep even though her life depended on it. The fickleness of mankind never ceased to amaze.
"Oh Little Wren, you've confused my message. I don't believe you a suitable wife for my son, not a million arcs. Yes he was stung when you disappeared, but Vaughn needs a nice girl who will tie him down to one place and help him focus on his responsibilities. The two of you are too similar to make a good coupling, perhaps if one of you were level headed." He knew it would hurt the woman to know his mind, but Lorena was so good at casting stones that she could not expect to go on without catching a few herself.

[Lorena]

For but a moment pain entered Lorena's expression as the barbed words escaped his pointed tongue, and yet somehow it seemed all so trivial to her. Looking out into the market, instead of yelling at the elder in objection she laughed "Terrible? No uncle, we would set each other free. Like I imagine Elyna does for you," she uttered softly into the wind. Lorena was unsure of it, but the scorn that the Krome had given her had somehow reminded her of the resolve she held against the noble houses and then she saw it, a reflection of everything restriction ever placed on her. Did her words restrict her uncle?

Turning her eyes to meet his gaze the woman closed the space between them and bore into his eyes, intense with curiosity. So many years ago he had been a gentle man, true to his word and loving for his children. Vaughn had been hurt, she knew well. Even then... the gentle heart that did not scorn her in the eyes of many and finally he told the truth.

"Maybe not, but I still love him. As I've always loved you like a father," the strength of her words cast like iron from her lips as she studied him "I always will. Even if that is what you think of me, you are more like me than you think yourself. You have unbound yourself by the restrictions of the noble houses as I too wish to achieve in my own way. It might take a bit to adjust to the idea of Ely being my mother but like you and Elyna, regardless of opinion I will not take no for an answer."

A flare of determination entered her eyes, Lorena was determined to stand her ground against him. Arcs she'd admired the knight and more she'd respected him. It didn't matter what people said, he opinion was what mattered to her.

Society had always hated her for what she was and her rebellion towards their rules was as strong as it had ever been, freedom was what she'd dreamed for and to her Vaughn was a part of it.

[Malcolm]

Malcolm smiled, not just because he was touched by her words, but also amused. Set each other free? He narrowed his gaze, studying her. It was good to see the woman again after all this time, and for a brief moment he had almost felt at home, back in Burhan on the family estate. But he wasn't home, and tomorrow was bound to be a long day.
“I'm glad I ran into you… make sure you write him, perhaps you can convince him that there is more to life than just getting by,” the knight encouraged. Vaughn had never really enjoyed his role as a noble, though he didn’t seemed to mind the perks. Malcolm had been wrong to tell her they were not right for each other, it wasn't his place to assume, and though he wanted the best for his son, he had come to learn that sometimes the only person who knew what worked best for them was one's self.
“Please keep well,” he told her. “It's late, I'll leave my address with the innkeeper and you must promise me you'll write once I’ve returned home in two or three seasons.” Malcolm gave the woman a one-armed-hug and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Safe travels, Wren.”