#faraligh

Night blanketed itself across the Dyrwood. The on-goings of reconstruction to Caed Nua halted for the evening and all was quiet.

Faraligh greeted the night air when she opened the window to her balcony. A cool wind met her and she closed her eyes to allow herself the moment of respite. Days on the road had finally been washed off of her. Cold water dripped from her wet hair, flowing freely behind her and stirring up the faintest scent of magnolia soap. The moment soon ended when she felt Pumpkin weaving between her legs, mewing for attention.

“Alright, alright,” Faraligh lifted the hefty orange cat into her arms, “I missed you too.”

Faraligh set about storing a few things she had found on her trip back from Defiance Bay, ready to spend the next few days caring for things with the Steward.

She let Pumpkin fall from her arms to the plush comforter. The cat immediately began sniffing and pawing all of the things Faraligh was pulling out of her leather pack.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll find more use out of these scrolls than Aloth will.” Faraligh teased the cat and scritched under its chin, “You’d tell me if you could make some sort of cone of fire right?”

Receiving only a meow for an answer, Faraligh scooted Pumpkin out of the way so she could go over what she’d be bringing to the wizard in the morning.

She was deep in thought when the sound of pottery hitting the floor drew her immediate attention. Faraligh’s head whipped up in time to see Pumpkin already halfway across the room and knocking over the few potted plants atop Faraligh’s dresser.

Faraligh let out a sharp sigh and walked over to the mess.

“Out of my sight for two seconds…” She grumbled, picking up the shattered clay bits and dirt off of the floor. The plants themselves she knew she could salvage well enough, nothing a bit of druidry wouldn’t fix.

Pumpkin, still on the dresser, gave a loud meow as she pawed at something else. Faraligh shot up in enough time to catch a small wooden box from falling to its demise.

For a moment, Faraligh stood and stared at the trinket. She ran her thumb across the patterns; raised Glamfellan carvings that were scrawled across the perimeter. The wood facing on top was that of an ash tree.

The wood was worn by time, as with all things. Despite its dated appearance, when Faraligh opened the box it began to emit the tinks of a Glamfellan lullaby, the sound still clear as it could be.

It was like a wave that hit her straight to the chest. Faraligh’s leg caught the end of her bed and she instinctively sat.

There was no little bauble to dance around to the music as she had seen in the music boxes in the Dyrwood, but this was one made from the hardworking hands of her people.

The music chimed along to a haunting tune and Faraligh fell into memories of just turning sixteen. She recalled running around camp with her brother to chase their little sisters. She could see her madim coming in and out of their hut, strong arms tensing under the weight of freshly tanned leathers to bring to a neighbor. She remembered her patim, sitting and whittling the engravings of this very box, every moment or two looking up to check that his children weren’t up to nefarious things.

It was that night that Faraligh remembered her patim being called to an early hunt. The caribou were migrating sooner than expected and all advantages were to be taken before another long winter. 

Faraligh remembered the feeling of the harsh winds of the Wends hitting her face as she chased her patim down for one last embrace. As she pulled away, Faraligh could see her patim before her in her room at Caed Nua.

The veil of memories that claimed the music box became thin, she could smell the dulce and deerskin emanating from her patim. She reached her free hand out, meeting her patims.

His handsome face crinkled into a wide grin. The same icy blue eyes, always cheery, smiled back at her.

No words were exchanged. Faraligh held her patims hand as long as she could, they both closed their eyes and imparted the fact that they were both okay. The moment the song ended, she felt his presence depart.

Faraligh opened her eyes to find she was alone once more. *madim and patim are words I use as alternatives for mother and father, just for my Pale Elves though