#freydisfreydat

Whenever he had the time, Mikhael had taken off wandering the border with Iskaldrik, the grip on his spear tight and assured. There had been something odd about the trick of the day the other day, something even odder to his encounter with Agnes. Whatever the druid had sensed, it was enough to call to her and that was enough to worry him. There was change in the air, and perhaps he was being paranoid, but he would rather be prepared if the wall between them and the Aetherians fell. 

This trip to the woods was like any other, not meant to take too overtly long. It was just a check, a reassurance that there were no changes to the barrier and that he could return to Haven, the Inn or Eterna, without a worry. He had yet to see anyone on his journeys, so it had been a surprise when he had walked into a clearing near the barrier and seen a familiar figure in the distance. 

He didn’t know her, not really, but recognized the face. Who could not recognize Freydis after their journey out of Iskaldrik? She might have been taken like the others, but that only made the Jarless altogether more memorable. 

“Here I thought I was being paranoid with my desire to check on the boundaries,” he commented from where he stood at the entrance of the clearing, hand relaxing around the pomme of his spear as he offered the Shield a nod. “I take it I am not?”

There is little time to process the terror and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she is dragged away from the Nornwatch Tower and back into the darkness. If she were to be completely honest, Nuvi doesn’t remember much of anything until her back hits the iron bars and the pain and hot pain snaps her from the vague darkness that had clouded her senses as soon as they had entered the mines. Vaguely, she remembers screaming, scratching at the rock they dragged her over to try and stop her descent into the darkness, but she cannot be sure of anything but the way her nails have been ripped apart blood on her fingertips at her desperate attempt to avoid the caverns once more. 

A whimper escapes her as she shifts and hits the iron bars again, and she does her best to make herself smaller, to avoid touching the bars and anything else that might bring her pain. This drives her to sink into one of the other kidnapped woman’s side, and she mutters a quick apology even if she doesn’t make the effort to move. 

“My apologies, but any other position and I will be touching the bars, and— Well,” she shrugs minutely as she tilts her head to show her ears. “Iron doesn’t agree with me.”

For months, her nightmares had been shrouded by darkness and the fear from the mines, but ever since they had liberated Iskaldrik they had shifted. The mines had forever left a mark, but they were nothing when compared to the sheer agony that came from burning alive. It was an experience unlike anything she had experienced before, and one that left her afraid of fire in a way she could not quite explain. It had driven her out from the area where the rest of the high elvhen had gathered to prepare for the battle for Avalan and deeper into Lorien’dal, hoping to find fire-resistance potions at the apothecary or a witch’s shop. 

She was browsing one of such places, when she heard the bell above the door ring. Out of curiosity, she sent a glance to the entrance and was surprised to find Freydis there. She had heard the rumors about the new druid circle and its keeper, and she had thought the other would be endlessly busy trying to gather everyone together and setting it up properly. Still, she is happy to see the other looking well, all things considered.