BRAYDE COUNTY SOMEWHERE | NIGHT TIME SOMETIME
Khymarah’s knee bounced as she rode in the horse drawn carriage, dual colored eyes wandering over the farming countryside of Brayde County. She hadn’t been out this way in…well in ever! There’d never been a reason to head north east for her, not in her official artist and galdori capacity.
But this was not any official artist or galdori trip.
Her eyes flicked down to her hands, nervously brushing against her forest green skirts as the wheels bounced along the dirt roads. A message had arrived for her, a Resistance message. By the Lady, the red haired mage had thought she’d been forgotten, or intentionally cut out. After the first meeting so, so many seasons ago she’d not heard from anyone again. A galdor in the human Freedom Fighters was like a poppy in a hayfield. She was the oddity, and not to be trusted given her race’s tendency to arrest or even hang the lower races associated with the Resistance.
But now there was a message. A meeting, outside of Vienda. Frankly that was fine with the woman. Better to be away from prying eyes and listening ears. Gods only knew what would happen to her, should she be caught. What would Drezda think?!
Swallowing her fears down, Khymarah startled when the carriage came to a sudden stop, eyes wide as she listened to the driver jump down off the seat and crunch his way along the chilled dirt path to open her door.
“Here, put this on.” He grunted over the top of his scarf, throwing a thick old wheat sack at her. The galdor drew her field closer instinctively, seemingly to make herself appear less threatening. In reality, it was a comfort. A close field was protective, safe. You could cast faster if it was already collected. Not that Khymarah was going to cast, not unless she was going to be hurt.
Nodding, she pulled the thick sack over her head, taking the drivers offered hand as he helped her down. The gentlemanly offer was short lived however, when he shifted to put it firmly on her shoulder. The air was cold enough to cause her breath to steam under the hood, condensing slightly against her pale skin, though her warm beige cloak kept the chill away from her person.
“Walk.” He said gruffly, giving her a slight shove forwards. The temporarily blinded red head moved with a small shuffle before picking up her feet, listening to the sounds around her. It was night, and as such there weren’t that many. A few creatures not yet in their beds, and owls making kills in the farms of the county. Dim shapes of light and shadow projected through the hood, but otherwise there was nothing to see. If there were wicks or galdori around her, Khymarah would feel their fields, should they not be dampened, but outside of that the woman had no clocking idea where she was or who she was with.
Hopefully this meeting would provide some sort of answer. Why did they reach out now, after so long in silence? Had that prison break caused some sort of extra lockdown? Were they looking for a golly for something? Is that why they wanted to speak to her now?
By the Lady, so many questions! She needed to stop playing this game. The answers would come soon enough, and as long as she was honest then there was nothing to fear.
Nothing at all. Except for humans who hated gollies. Or wicks who had vengeance on their mind. Or passives who had spent years in servitude looking for a pound of flesh. Or galdori who would never ever tolerate one of their own helping the Freedom fighters.
Yep, nothing to fear.