Taking Flight [Navyri]

[Brent Forrester]

Taking Flight
37 Saun 720

When Navyri had left his house in a rage two nights ago, there had been part of him that had wondered if she was coming back. And yet, it had been her idea from the start and she clearly needed him enough to have asked him in the first place. But despite her parting anger, or more like frustration, it had hardly bothered him when he spent the next day finalizing his supplies for the trip they were about to make. It had been different. She hadn’t held the same sway over him as she had before. But more importantly, there was something he knew he had about him that she wanted. And that made all the difference.

The packing of supplies was uneventful. Brent was well accustomed to short trips on horseback around Melrath and sleeping outside in a tent. He was more concerned about packing light so that he wouldn’t overburden Sinir, the sleipnir he kept. Tony, the old packhorse, would need to be looked after by Ted. Brent was still a bit curt with his brother but Ted refrained from bringing up the previous night’s events and agreed to take care of the packhorse. It was at that point that the elder brother asked Brent how long he’d be away. The cartographer wasn’t sure, but vaguely responded that he’d aim to visit in a year or two.

--

Brent hadn’t really expected to be leaving Melrath like this. Sinir was restless as Brent loaded up the saddlebags on the winged horse. When would he visit Lake Svariella again and see how the town had grown? And what about his friends in Alivilda? The local Aesir? He had made a couple of goodbyes the previous day but what about those he hadn’t been able to see? What about Ashling? Was she wondering what had happened to him? He hadn’t spent much time in Fensalir apart from the brief start and end to the ‘Great Journey’ tournament. Was she still doing her medicines and herbs there?

Even though he knew he wanted to travel light, it was strange leaving so much behind. He hoped that Colin would fare okay with the business in his absence. Together they had created enough maps to cover most of the key places in Melrath, and he trusted the young man to produce good copies of his work. And now he was going away to see the world and discover far more than he had ever in his lifetime. All with a winged horse and a winged lady. A friend.

The food that he had packed was mostly a combination of dried and salted meat along with hard biscuits. Not the most lavish but very practical for travel. He also carried a waterskin and a small pot for cooking. The tent and food were probably the heaviest and were strapped near the sleipnir’s flanks. He had left space for a bedroll, to be tied on with some rope that could serve double duty. His mapping supplies were in a small bag slung over his shoulder, which included his spyglass and compass. The leather armour was light enough to wear and he had a small dagger on a belt and his quiver of arrows on his back. He only brought one set of clothing, the garments he was wearing, although he did pack a warm coat which could double as a blanket. His choices were highly functional, and even still he was worried about how it would weigh upon his sleipnir.

“How’s that, my friend? Up for a grand adventure?” Brent spoke as he patted the sleipnir’s flank. The creature was a little bit restless, not used to the baggage in addition to the saddle. They were taking a big leap. Brent had only ridden Sinir for a couple seasons and now they were leaving Melrath to travel the world.

The twilight was just beginning to lift as one of the suns began making its appearance over the thick woods of Myrkvior. Brent had already said his goodbyes to Ted the night before. The elder brother still thought Brent was being foolish, and voiced his thoughts, but it was more of a statement than an attempt to change his mind.

Standing with Sinir on the small dirt road in front of his house, Brent had a moment of apprehension. What if he really had pushed her too far with his timeline? No, she had said it herself. She would be there. She needed him. It wasn’t just for a second pair of eyes to keep watch and to keep up at her winged speed. She had said that she was going through some things mentally after being in prison. Of course she did. Melrath had not been kind to her. Well that would have to come with time, with the first step leaving the place that had done her harm. It was time for both of them to take flight.

✕✕✕

Template Credit: Navyri

[Navyri]

37 Saun 720

The theater would prosper, the coin would flow. Melrath would forget her involvement and she would move on to the next city, just as she had done every arc since she was fifteen. But what was it about this place that simultaneously blessed her with prosperity, and plotted to destroy her for it? Navyri was torn about her departure, perhaps even more than Brent Forrester whose identity was so deeply rooted her. At least he knew he who was. Unlike him, she did not have a dream to chase. Travel and adventure were not new to her, and in fact, today, mixed with the flying she had done to make this departure date work, the idea bordered on exhausting. But she packed, and she grumbled, counting her items, her necessities. Brent might have been happy with bringing only one pair of underwear and a boyish thrill, but Navyri would not be so easily placated. She shopped; she traded in bright silks and satin for greys, greens, and blacks. Goodbye ornamental leather! So long golds and silvers and onyx jewels!

It was familiar in a way; her wealth had not been a feature she was born with, but she had grown accustomed to nice things. So, she tried to compromise. Or, so she would let Brent think... for a time. Spices and alcohol were brought, along with cooking utensils and jars of oil. Pots and pans, knives for cooking and killing. Navyri threw in a few books - fiction, non-fiction, and a few scummier titles for when boredom reared its head. Navyri hated being bored.

There were candles and matches, tinderbox and rations; canteens of fresh spring water, a fan that blew icy wind, and medical kit that would serve her well. Mirrors, razors, lotions, pomades and perfumes. What hadn't the woman brought? Her domain bag gave no hint of bulging with strain, and so she tested its limits, forcing lush fur blankets, tarps, rope and weaponry. And that didn't even include the outfits!

Navyri's closet, was, as one could guess, a thing of luxury. While she would wear well crafted items as usual - there would be no luxurious dresses - not on the road where bandits wished to test their mettle. Her outfit today was, her in opinion, quite simple. Brent could disagree and cry seduction, but Navyri could care less for his opinion of attire after shutting hers down so quickly. Straps of leather bound around her chest and waist, holding daggers and vials ready and waiting. A whip was gathered and held on a hook at her hip, and she would have worn her bow and quiver if she didn't fear the the arrows would fall if she shifted angles while in the air. Along with her own shopping, Navyri had also done some for Brent. Six outfits, each ranging slightly more elaborate than the last, socks and undergarments included. One extra pair of boots; she had guessed his size, but had an eye for these things. If they didn't fit, she would resell them. Brent could thank her later, when he wasn't an oversized, lice infested blister.

Across the forest trees she soared, already tired. There had been little sleep; but she would not complain. In fact, she wasn't very inclined to speak; simply enjoying the cool morning mist stirring her further awake, clutching a brown paper bag in her hand. Down below, the first rays of sun inched its way across the forest. Navyri dipped her wing and swooped towards the settlement Brent called home. She could see him - him and his beast - waiting, as promised on the dirt road that would lead them to his future. But where would it lead her?

Descending, Navyri stepped to the ground without pause, blankly taking in his limited possession. He was wearing the armor; it made him look taller, broader. He was trying to soothe the horse, which she surveyed from afar, "You're early," Grabbing her resolve and closing the distance, Navyri pressed the small brown bag against against his chest and hooked his elbow to pull him a few steps away. Her own backpack was still nestled between her wings. She glanced around, wondering where Ted was. She had been mulling over this since the night she left, "We need to talk."

Meeting his eye, Navyri lowered her voice, "Your brother... Have you resolved things with him?"

It seemed an odd question for her to ask; why would she care? It didn't benefit her, "Your brother said you wanted a family...," This was something she did not, "It might not have been his place, but... I want to give you something," Once upon a time, she had a mother, a father... grandparents..., and she had left, with full intention to see them again. Now they were lost forever, without so much as a goodbye. Brent might have annoyed her, but this was something she took seriously, "If," she stressed this word, "You think it is a good idea...if he would accept it," Reaching behind her back, she produced two small cosmetic mirrors. It was dangerous to suggest anything magical, gift of otherwise, "I can mark these. It would allow you and Ted to communicate, at least until we far outside of Melrathi territory. Eventually... I may be able to lengthen that distance. Otherwise, we will not speak of this again," she looked down at the other item she had passed to him - the brown bag, "And, breakfast." Greta's bakery, sweet buns, muffins, and breads.

Navyri pulled away, walking backwards as her wings reopened. Her act of kindness completed, she tightened her ponytail and looked to the sky, "I'm ready when you are."

[Brent Forrester]

When she arrived, he was genuinely surprised with how little she carried. Of course, she would be traveling under her own physical exertion so it made sense. Yet in contrast to the way she had talked about all the things he’d need, she only had a back pack and small paper bag. Maybe she had seen the light.

Early. He was used to such comments. However, he didn’t comment as he calmly took the bag pressed to him and was led a few paces away from Sinir. He assumed she was still anxious around the creature, and to her fortune, the winged horse mostly stayed put when he dropped the reins as it went off to the side of the road to graze.

We need to talk.

Shit. Those were probably the four worst words to come out of a woman’s mouth. He noticeably tensed as he prepared for whatever onslaught she had prepared. Yet when she did speak, and about his brother quite understandably, it wasn’t with the rage or passion he had initially thought.

“It’s… It will be fine.” Brent answered. Maybe not quite resolved, but good enough.

Yet when she made her offer he was suddenly unsure. He knew quite certainly what she meant. A similar mirror pair as what he had once had with Navyri herself. But when he had said his goodbyes to Ted, he was saying them as though he would be gone for at least a few seasons. Did he even want to be able to talk to Ted while he was gone from Melrath? And would Ted want anything to do with the power of an Immortal? Or something that Navyri had produced? All things considering, though, it was an offer from Navyri he had not expected. More generous than he had thought from her.

“I think… he will accept it. Although if you’ll excuse me, I will refrain from mentioning the source of its power. It is, um, very kind of you to think of such a thing, Navyri.” Brent replied in a hesitant although grateful manner.

He would wait patiently for her to conduct whatever marking was needed of the two small mirrors. He was curious of her power, yet still remained cautious. Afterwards, he would politely excuse himself into the house. Ted was not awake yet, since it was just about the crack of dawn, but Brent left the small mirror on the dining table and scrawled a quick note.

Brother to brother, keep this mirror close should we ever have need to communicate.

When Brent returned outside he smiled at the mention of breakfast. “I’ll split one if you like, but I’ve already had something to eat. Anything else, we can save for lunch on the road. Or, er, air. Something.” He offered the open bag to Navyri, should she want one. They certainly did smell nice and would make a good snack too.

“Let’s be on our way then.”

Brent strode over to where Sinir was munching on some grass and took the reins after doing one last mental check of all his belongings. Swinging one leg over the horse, he situated himself just below the wing joint, so his legs had some place to go and would line up with the stirrups. Nudging the sleipnir into a walk, he started down the road. With one last look at his house, he gave another sharp squeeze of his legs and moved into a trot. Faster and faster until a gust of wind and wings took them into the air, while Brent held on tightly to the horn of the saddle.

They were off. There was a nicker from Sinir as he tossed his head, straining a little under the increased load. But all in all, Brent got the feeling that they’d manage. Plus any extended travel would require multiple breaks and rests in between. It was just the first leg of the journey.

Looking around and over his shoulder Brent tried to see how Navyri was faring. Of course, she was probably far more used to flying than he was. Even the slightest bank of Sinir’s wings caused him to tighten up as the ground got smaller below. Glancing around, Brent spotted the rising sun. Southeast to pass the mountains, then east. Follow the rising sun to Etzos.

✕✕✕

Template Credit: Navyri

[Navyri]

37 Saun 720

Navyri waited outside the house, arms crossed as she watched the sunlight filter through the treetops, turning when Brent's footsteps rejoined her. He had only been gone for a trill, but she wondered if she had been too generous in her offer. He had been hesitant, confused. Was it so hard to believe she had morals? Convictions? Navyri knew she could be a kind person, a generous person. These doubts were madness and would cripple her. She brushed the thoughts aside.

Brent held the bag out to her, the smell of cinnamon wafting between them, “I’ll split one if you like, but I’ve already had something to eat. Anything else, we can save for lunch on the road. Or, er, air. Something.”

"Or something," she repeated, smiling at his choice of words as she peered at the sweets, "Hm," Navyri leaned forward, dipping her hand inside and plucking a iced pastry out ,"I could be tempted to share. I wasn't able to have a taste yet," Carefully, Navyri ripped the pastry and dropped the remainder back inside the bag, along with the others and stretched her wings to prepare for flight once more.

In the air, she ate. The sweetness was a welcome treat and Navyri could only wish for some coffee to wash the remainder of the crumb down. It made her miss the mornings discussing business, drinking fine alcohol and planning to take the afternoon by storm. But such things were in the past. Those trials had been a temporary luxury and now she was back in the grit of it, trading four poster beds for bedrolls. And tents...

Navyri released a sigh from deep within her chest, beating her wings to draw her closer to the clouds. Below, Brent and Sinir grew accustomed to their encumbrance and she watched as he looked about, searching. When she spoke, it was as if she was whispering in his ear, another secret of Tarouz, "Higher," The Naer gave a wave of her fingers, tilting her body to alleviate push back from air currents. Unlike the indoors, where her wings had to be kept close to her figure, airborne, they could be fully extended without size constraints. Her shadow, feminine and magnificent tore through the sky and she closed her eyes as condensation dampened her skin. A good way to stay awake and refreshed, Navyri finished her breakfast and said little more as she followed Brent towards Etzos.

***

Navyri was a deceiver. She was good at hiding things. It was no surprise that when her shoulders and back began to ache, and her eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, she pushed herself to see if it would pass. But when her wings threatened to give out, she cursed her weakness. It was nearing midday or right after, but she knew, had she not been flying like a madman between Alivilda and Raelia, perhaps she would have had to stamina to go further. Blaming Brent would do no good; she had been stubborn and it was her own fault she wasn't stronger, "I need to rest," while testing limits was something of a game to her, even Navyri knew the difference between a challenge and folly, "Down there," A clearing, just off the main road, would make it easy to sit for a bit, and in the heat, the shade from the circling trees would be welcome.

Pulling her wings in, Navyri's altitude began to drop, and she glided, opening them back up to slow her landing as her feet stretched out to catch her. Her entire back felt warm, the muscles almost foreign in their exertion. She hadn't flown like this in... a long time. At once, she lowered, dropping to her knees, somewhat breathless as she searched for a nice bit of grass to stretch out on, "You should have lunch now," she offered, flinching when Sinir returned to the ground, "I just..." she patted the turf and shrugged off her pack, laying on her stomach while she laid her cheek against the ground, repeating herself, "Need to rest."

[Brent Forrester]

The cinnamon roll was a pleasant treat, although Brent seemed more interested in Navyri’s look of enjoyment soon after she took flight. It was probably just as well that she hadn’t tantalized him with her lips. Would he ever really get over her? Stop chasing shadows… There had to be some way of moving forward in all this.

Once the cartographer was in the air, however, all such thoughts fell away from his mind. He was met with the glorious view of the trees, winding river, and mountains to his right. Half the battle was staying firmly secure to his sleipnir as they soared up and sometimes banked heavily in the air. A gust of wind buffeted Sinir’s wings and a soft whispering voice spoke in his ear. Higher. Puzzled, Brent looked around and then caught sight of Navyri nearing the clouds quite a ways above them.

Brent had been keeping a low frame while riding the winged horse, and they had been gliding a good deal. This wasn’t going to be like one of their mapping flights, so they’d need to gain some altitude to cover the long distance that was planned. Brent tentatively tried pulling at the reins to get Sinir’s attention, but the winged horse seemed not to understand the cue. Trying a slightly different approach, Brent cautiously leaned back in the saddle, adjusting their weight and effectively angling them upwards. There was a sudden boost of energy from the sleipnir and Brent instinctively squeezed tightly to keep from falling off as the flapping of wings sent them hurtling into the sky.

There was a moment of exhilaration coupled with panic as the world fell away, and Brent reflexively went to grab the horn of the saddle as they leveled off, gliding once more. Almost like a chase, they flew higher in rapid little bursts. Both suns were shining now and Brent could feel the beaded sweat on his sleipnir. Fortunately, the higher altitude brought in cooler air and once they had reached Navyri’s level in the air, they were able to cruise and glide for longer lengths.

The mountains and forests looked smaller now. Almost like child toys or a painting. Alivilda was reduced to mere building blocks and Brent had an eerie recollection of a dream he had nearly an arc ago. In the distance ahead, he could see the sparkling waters of Lake Svariella and where it joined with the River Vynmur. When would he return here? He tried to capture the image in his mind’s eye hoping to someday produce a drawing or even a painting of it. The lush landscape below with the striking wings and silhouette of Navyri gliding through the sky.

Despite being able to see so far, sometimes it almost felt slower flying because the landscape moved so slowly as they passed it by. Regardless, Brent often found himself transfixed on the scenery below as if it somehow held the secrets of the land. Time was strangely still as they flew. With the rush of wind and wings, it was hard to make small talk, but Brent still kept an eye out for his companion, checking that there was never too much of a gap between them.

The steady beat and glide of the wings gave him time to think. It was only the steep banking to one side or the other, or the occasional bumpy dip that jolted him out of his thoughts. To Etzos, and then what? Once they got beyond the borders of Melrath, he’d want a somewhat slower pace to chart from above. And what about Navyri? As much as he would prefer otherwise, he’d have to plan his next steps independent from her. Traveling was one thing, but she hadn’t discussed anything beyond that. He was perhaps just a means to an end. It was disconcerting, but maybe she’d be willing to open up during their travels. She had mentioned that life had been particularly hard after Melrath had treated her the way it had. It must be a relief for her to finally leave.

Brent, on the other hand, had a mix of apprehension and keen curiosity as he watched the Vynmur connect to Svariella, with the Gates of Melrath looming far in the distance. He could feel the Saun heat contrasting with the cool upper winds. Meanwhile, his legs were getting stiff and cramped up from riding so long without rest. Usually his flights had been much shorter and broken down into smaller stints. This was completely different, but it seemed as though Sinir had done long distance journeys before. His mount seemed a little less prone to bucking or playful swoops, and instead reserving energy for stamina and endurance.

Although Brent was certainly getting stiff from the long riding, it was more a contest between Navyri and Sinir for who faltered first. When Navyri called out, Brent was momentarily surprised, so used to the constant flap of wings. But nevertheless, he awkwardly guided Sinir down towards the ground with a mix of pulling at the reins and guiding left or right to the clearing the winged lady had pointed out. The landing was jarring, and Brent nearly fell off the side of his mount, so used to the smooth ride of flight. When he finally dismounted, he was practically waddling from being saddle sore, and spent a couple minutes just stretching his legs.

She looked more exhausted than she had let on. After Brent took off the heaviest pieces of gear strapped to the sleipnir, he coiled the reins around the saddle horn and let the creature go on its own to graze. He settled himself down on the grass next to Navyri, looking up at the brilliant blue sky.

“Muffin?”

He had brought the brown bag and took out a simple bun for himself while offering the bag to Navyri. He also had a handful of dried strips of meat, some cured with salt and others in honey. “And some meat to keep your strength up.”

He sat up a little. She looked so peaceful with her wings framing her features, calm against the grassy ground. “Water? I’m sure there’s a stream or something nearby to refill.” He added and held out his waterskin.

“At this rate, we probably won’t be sleeping in Melrath tonight. The gates are probably an hour away at best. I’m guessing that you’ll be glad to be rid of Melrath.”

[Navyri]

37 Saun 720

Pressed into the grass, Navryri inhaled the familiar scent of rich soil and ran her fingers through the emerald blades to sigh in relief. Her wings were buzzing with exertion and she relished the break, sunlight creating beads of sweat beneath her blouse. She did not look up when Brent eased Sinir's pack, and walked over, eyes still closed as he settled beside her.

"Muffin?"

A blue eye opened to peer at the man. The sweet was poised in his hand and he seemed more at ease than their meeting the other night. Maybe they could manage to coexist for this expedition, "Hm." Navyri drew her wing back and rolled on her side, reluctantly propping herself up with an elbow to consider the lunch menu.

“And some meat to keep your strength up.”

Navyri eyed the selection. She took the pastry, turning it over in her hand and pulled the fluffy breading apart, its white belly stained with purple blueberries. She popped a piece in her mouth, still chewing when he spoke again.

"Water? I’m sure there’s a stream or something nearby to refill.”

The Naer smiled, eating slowly and then took the water skin. She took a drink, watching him and then traded for a piece of cured meat. So many offerings. Nayvri sighed and rolled over to lay on her back, staring at the blue sky and a group of birds that flew across the clearing.

“At this rate, we probably won’t be sleeping in Melrath tonight. The gates are probably an hour away at best. I’m guessing that you’ll be glad to be rid of Melrath.”

She could see why he would feel that way. Navyri yawed, eyelids fluttering as her mouth opened and she covered it, the sunlight and cool breeze making her sleepy. Listening to the trill of birds and insects, she sighed, tilting her chin to keep the sun from her eyes. Her voice was soft, "Melancholic," she muttered, brushing strands of dark hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, "I liked Melrath."

For a moment, she thought there was a future here. Prosperity. A chance to recover from arcs of running (and a few flying). She thought she found someone who understood her ambition, but now she wasn't so sure if satisfaction would ever be in her cards. Was she doomed to wander and want? Navyri took a bite, popping a blueberry with her tongue. After a slow silence, she lowered the treat, "It's beautiful here," Navyri took a deep breath that expanded her chest, "I can see why its taken you so long to leave."

Navyri finished her muffin and nibbled on the jerky; it was an odd flavor pair, similar to their own partnership, perhaps. The fact that they were sitting here at all was a small miracle in itself. Her attention flickered to the Sleipnir, who had trotted closer but stayed focused on nibbling at the foliage, it seemed a lot had changed. Nothing felt familiar. Navyri had spent so much time in Nieflheim, she had emerged in the dark of Cylus, spat out among freezing winds and snow. When she recovered, she had locked herself away in abandoned hut, too paranoid to venture out except for wood and food. And now? Somewhere along those trials, the frost had melted and the life had returned to the trees. The suns were sweltering and she couldn't help but feel she was transported to a new world. The theater had been built. The Naer plaguing Soren were gone. Even Brent had changed.

'Your hair,' Navyri observed the length of his hair and beard. She wanted to touch it, to feel its reality. Other changes were not so easy to pinpoint. While they never known much about each other outside of the physical, even Brent had a unfamiliar quality. Had it really only been less than an arc? Nightfall was some time off, and her voice was soft, "Do you want to stay the night?" It was a good spot for a camp, all things considered. And with a stream nearby, she'd be able to cool down along its banks, or if it was deep enough, get in a brief washing, "I've been flying since you kicked me out. I'm sore," she would have shrugged if she hadn't already been laying down, "And I think you are too." To make time, she hadn't slept and now felt its repercussions.

Navyri reached out sleepily, tapping his leg with the back of her knuckle. Her eyes might have been closed, but she had heard his tense breath when he had dismounted Sinir; she knew the sounds of pain, "You can say no," she whispered, shifting to allow a wing more comfort. Even laying down, she was somewhat restless, unable to get fully comfortable. The Naer could have pressed her case - convinced him to use the time to document the landscape, or be productive with one more day in the Melrathi wilds. He could say goodbye to his precious spirits if he hadn't already. But all that would only seem as if she was trying to persuade him for personal gain. She did want to leave, and would, but doing so felt like a failure. It was a hard reality to always feel like she was fleeing. More so to admit a physical weakness. "Or we could leave at night, when its cooler...Here," Navyri laid the remainder of her uneaten jerky on his knee and settled back in place. Maybe she could have a brief nap? "For your strength."

[Brent Forrester]

She took his offerings with what seemed to be appreciation. He could never quite tell with Navyri and there had been times in the past when her mood had changed rapidly without much rhyme or reason. Brent was tired himself, and as he leaned back on his arms, he stretched out his sore legs.

She had liked Melrath.

Brent didn’t believe he even knew half of what she had been through, and yet that was how she concluded her view on the nation. It was beautiful, for sure. Perhaps other places didn’t have the same majestic mountainsides and rushing rivers? He hoped he would be able to find out for himself and maybe find other places with just as much beauty. Brent gazed off into the distance looking at the dappled leaves and the brilliant blue skies. This was home, and yet there was so much more to life to explore. The suns beat down hard and he was glad of the shade. Glancing over, he saw that Sinir had began picking at the low bushes around the trees.

Do you want to stay the night?

The question caught him by surprise and he looked over at Navyri curiously trying to gauge her intentions. One more night in Melrath. It wasn’t what he had thought she would want. But she provided good reasons. If she really had been flying since they had parted that night, she would be utterly exhausted. It was still afternoon, but they didn’t need to be anywhere in particular, at any given time. Brent shifted and stretched his legs again at the mention of being sore. He wasn’t used to the constant riding, that was true. Yet on a more practical note, it would make more sense to stay one more night within the safe valley of Melrath and only venture beyond after a good night’s rest with both of them feeling fresh. Despite learning the basics of a bow and arrow, he suspected that he would have to rely on Navyri’s abilities should some serious danger emerge on the road.

“It may be prudent to stay one more night in Melrath,” he replied in a calm and calculated manner. “I could take first watch while you rest for the afternoon and come nightfall we can switch. I’m frequently up early and I don’t mind taking a second watch before the first sun rises.”

Brent bit into the salted jerky and nodded to himself. “There’s no need to pass beyond the gates while still exhausted. Nor do we need to turn this journey into a sprint. We already covered a lot of ground and it’s probably best to travel in the cool mornings anyways.”

As the Melrathi finished up the lunch of dried meat, his eyes couldn’t help but wander over to the winged lady’s form. Sore body, sore wings. There was part of him that wanted to ease her pain and a more selfish part that wanted to enjoy what he saw.

Abruptly, Brent got up and staggered over to where his sleipnir was grazing.

The winged horse still had its saddle, bit and reins in place. Since they were planning to stop for much longer and stay the night, it would be worth it to properly unsaddle the horse. At first the creature was restless, and Brent had to run after it a couple of times to finally get a solid hold of the saddle to begin removing it. Afterwards, Sinir seemed glad of it and relinquished the riding pad and reins much more easily. Brent rubbed the horse down, paying special attention to between the wings. Sinir seemed to trust Brent, but that didn’t mean the creature was completely loyal. Only time and care would earn that.

Guiding the sleipnir back a little towards where Navyri lay, Brent drained the last of the waterskin into his only pot so that the winged horse could drink. He glanced briefly at Navyri but then continued his attentions on his mount, checking its feathers, looking for fleas, giving its muscles a good rub down and untangling a part of its mane that was matted.

“Do you need any help with a tent?” Brent asked, almost as an afterthought. “Otherwise, I’ll set up camp while you rest.”

[Navyri]

37 Saun 720

From her position, Navyri watched Brent stand and move towards Sinir, relieved he had agreed. A spitfire on any other trial, fatigue had its way of soothing the impulse to challenge decisions if they didn't fit into her narrative, but to her visible relief, Brent allowed logic to win. Since their boundaries with one another were... vague (Friends? What did that even mean? Who was in charge? How did disagreements work?), and especially delicate without a level of trust, Navyri was unsure if he would deny her request just to see if he could make her suffer. After all, wasn't that what Melrathi liked? Hatred might have been currently off the table, but the surely didn't mean he enjoyed her company. She would need to approach their dynamic carefully, push boundaries without breaking them, "Thank you".

Brent stood quickly, not wanting to be near her longer than necessary no doubt, and began to unload his supplies. He treated the animal with respect - why, she barely understood - checking its health and massaging SInir's wings. She wasn't jealous, per say, but there was something to be said about losing attention to a mutated horse.

Navyri closed her eyes and allowed the sounds of nature to soothe her to a soft lull of teetering slumber. Close to crossing into Emea, her consciousness faded in and out, sounds distorting until she was falling, falling, falling into-

The labs of Neiflheim.

"Do you need any help with a tent?"

Navyri stiffened and jolted. Her wings flailed, azure eyes darting around in brief panic until she scoured her surroundings. Fear was rich her eyes when spotted Brent, who had moved closer. She hadn't even heard him... Coming back to terms with reality, her stomach had dropped and she rolled over quickly, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Her fingers felt the ground, then her own weaponry in reassurance. Her bag was still beside her. It was only a small comfort. This was real. Not that. This.

With deep breaths, she nodded repeatedly, rubbing her eyes to shake away the feeling of disorientation. Did she need help with her tent? "Yes," she turned away, snatching at her pack with purposeful blinks as she exhaled, "It's in here."

Such a truth seemed unlikely when you looked at the size of the bundle. Navyri settled into a crouch, untangling the drawstring and widened the mouth of the bag between her knees and reached in to wrap around a canvas roll. Digging her heels in, she pulled upwards.

Brent said he could set up camp, but he had one, maybe two things? And that pot, which had she seen how it was used, would have rendered it too disgusting for cooking. Thank Delroth she had brought her own supplies, "I'll rest after we set up," she muttered, fighting with the tent as the magic of her luggage began to reveal itself. A covering tied by rope began to emerge with a little wiggling, much larger than what should have been possible given it dimensions. Gritting her teeth, Navyri tossed it into the grass, extracting poles and stakes, then a hammer, and, as if it was the most natural thing, a bedroll, a folded sheet, and two pillows. She was halfway through drawing out a comforter, when she realized it might have been too hot to justify it, and shoved it back in the bag, "I have more bedding if you'd like some," The sight of her possessions seemed to calm her as Navyri drew out a a pair of men's trousers. She was reluctant to offer them, reminded of the pants she had stolen in her first attempt at escaping prison. These were softer, newer, a finer quality.

Navyri rose, kicking away rocks and sticks that might create an uncomfortable flooring. She reached for the canvas, pulling at the ropes to roll it out. The poles she stared at, not quite sure how to begin their assembly, "I thought I could make the trials easier, if I brought enough things to satisfy me," He had been impatient with her questions and need for preparation at his home, but she desired creature comforts. Familiar with almost losing everything, it eased her mind when she kept her possessions close, "There are some for you as well," she tried to gauge his reaction, "Traveling is difficult. But no one said we had to be miserable."

[Brent Forrester]

Shaken from her sleep, she looked around in a panic. Brent couldn’t help but take a step back. Her eyes were still wild as she reoriented. It was a look he hadn’t seen in her before. Not really. And while she had spoken of her experiences in Melrath, they had seemed almost… removed, or detached. Like they were just stories. And yet with that wild and panicked look… His eyebrows narrowed in concern and he patiently waited for her to compose herself.

After she accepted his offer to help, he briefly led Sinir over to a tree and looped the reins around one of the branches. He had long given up trying to properly restrain the sleipnir, but he could always ‘request’ it to stay put. As he strode back to Navyri, he could see that she was pulling something out that took up almost the entire bag. Plus poles, and stakes, and a hammer, and a bedroll, pillows… His eyes first narrowed in confusion, then widened in surprise. With a slight roll of his eyes, he realized he had mistakenly given her the respect of a prudent traveler. Yet it was no use berating her, and he decided to take an alternate approach.

“I see that you have packed like a lady,” he said with a teasing grin. “And if you had your way, you would have had me pack like one too.”

Brent noticed the slight hesitation Navyri had when she assessed the tent canvas and poles. He crouched down next to the tent components and also noticed some small lengths of rope and ties for fastening them together.

“Looks like the traveling will be far from miserable,” he replied with a wink as he glanced over at Navyri and her tumbling pile of ‘comforts’. Taking two of the poles in his hands he looked at how they might be fastened and then opened up some of the canvas material to see the overall shape of the tent.

“I’ll get the tent set up. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. There’s only so many ways a pole can fit into a slot. Why don’t you get us some fresh water? And I’ll place the tent in this area that you cleared.”

Brent gestured to the area that she had kicked away some stones and sticks where the tent fabric was laid flat. He also started counting out the wooden stakes so he could get a sense of their spacing.

So long as she agreed for him to help set it up, he would begin right away, enjoying the simple craftsmanship. Starting with the poles, he determined which ones were to be horizontal, which were vertical posts and which needed to be placed at an angle. This was pretty simple geometry based on the sizes of the poles and the dimensions of the canvas. He started at the bottom and worked his way up, tying the poles together with thin lengths of rope. Once the frame was built, he was able to attached the fabric to it. Overall the tent was much bigger than his own. Clearly suited for a lady. Lastly, Brent checked that the tent was sufficiently free-standing before hammering in the stakes to give it additional support and strength against any wind. At the same time, he checked that the canvas was folded outwards to prevent water from seeping in.

[Navyri]

Was he passing judgement again?

Navyri opened her mouth to vocalize the spike in defensive emotion, but to her surprise, Brent's words were not cutting but... Gentle? Teasing? Her brow furrowed, having expected a negative response, she had been geared to unleash a verbal attack and now?

Her gaze dropped to the sheet, a mix of conflicting emotions. She had misread him? What was going on with her? There was a flicker of embarrassment, breaking to a soft consolation as she nodded in admittance. Being compared to a lady wasn't so bad; It meant woman, and she thought those were better than men most trials, one way or another, "You haven't called me that in awhile," she commented lightly, drawing the sheet towards here and stacking it on her lap. Memories of Brent from a time long ago - Vhalar, the arc prior to be exact- rose to the surface of her mind.

“Oh, my lady. I didn’t see you there.”

She smiled, reminded of the wall. Navyri moved the bedding out of the way of Brent's work. He was always working.

"If you’ll pardon me, my lady..."

"Don’t be rude to the pretty lady."

Mortar and stone. Slush and blood.

She passed the pole, relaxing. This was like the wall - he knew what he was doing and she was there to give aid where needed. At least now she wouldn't have to punch an instigator in the face for talking shit, "Would it hurt to take a few notes?" she quirked a brow, returning his tease, "Why do they say less is more? More is more."

Navyri was reaching for her bag again when his voice rolled between them.

“Looks like the traveling will be far from miserable,”

She caught his wink, the expression hitting her with a very particular memory.

He gave a nod to the old sofa and gave a crooked grin. “If m’lady could take a seat.”

He had winked then too.

"Good..." Did he know what he was doing? Navyri reached out to grab her bag, strangely unsure. He had seemed less than enthusiastic about their travels together, now offering that it wouldn't be miserable. Could she believe that? She wanted to. She needed a break. But from the nightmares lingering on the corners of her consciousness, waiting to pounce and Ted Forrester's words of disapproval...

“Brent, you’re free to make your own choices, but please don’t spend your life chasing shadows. Find yourself a girl who adores you just as much as you adore them. I don’t want you to be miserable..."

Heh. Navyri shook the thoughts from her mind, collecting the pair of pants and folded them, laying them in the shade. Brent had certainly gathered confidence in her time away. Was it the beard? The almost-woman he had told her of? She eyed him openly in consideration; there was more to him now. He suggested she go gather the water and she chuckled.

Only so many ways a pole could go into a slot?

Oh, he knew. Whether he realized it or not, Navyri had. Brent Forrester was not that innocent.

Learning how to be someone's friend was going to be a funny dance. She could try for his sake, but it would be awhile before she could ignore the things they've said... The things they've done. She noticed the drained skin by his cooking pot, "Thirsty already? Navyri stepped away, grabbing her bag and slinging it on her shoulder. Collecting water would be doable. It didn't require her to fly and her legs hadn't suffered as much, "Very well. I'll gather the water and you can pitch the tent," the dark haired woman grabbed his discarded container.

She began to move towards the trees, feet slowing, "I'll be back soon. If you won't need help with yours, I'll grab some wood while I'm gone."

Nodding to his right to where she had set her present, Navyri began to retreat once more, "I've laid out some clothes for you. Night will fall quickly when we slow down." Her back faced him, voice fading with each step further away, "Take it from someone who looks great in leather - don't sleep in it."