Post by Laurelin Hawthorne on Nov 18, 2023 11:46:12 GMT -6
"Yes, I do mean Princess Sarah of Cornelia. The one who lives and volunteers here."
It took all of her will to not whirl around at those words; she refused to reveal the shock, awe, and relief that warred within. “I see,” Laurelin said instead, eyes still fixated on the painting. It was a scenic piece. Some forest. “She’s here.” The elf sighed. Her shoulders dipped. “Truly.”
The crowned princess had survived what became of their world. Judging by the tone of Caius, she was doing well enough. Laurelin almost scoffed at herself. Here she was, sniveling like a child when the woman she had aided thrived. Adapted to survive and was making a name for herself. A sliver of hope wormed itself into her heart.
Perhaps she hadn’t failed, then. She hadn’t led her friends to death’s door. Subconsciously, Laurelin slid in a nearby chair. “There is a chance,” she murmured to herself. “The others are alive.”
She could not face the princess just yet. Whatever glory remained was all of theirs to carry. She would not claim it as her own. As much as she ached to see a familiar face, Laurelin could not be the only one. The Prophecy had read as such. It was all or none. Mind awhirl, Laurelin began calculating her next steps. First, however, Caius deserved some compensation for his information. Honesty would have to do.
“Look for a woman named Seraphine,” she said, addressing the Dragonblade leader. “At the Hero’s Tavern. She is who sent me.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the coastline as if words had escaped her. “Should you need members, I am sure she will be a welcomed presence.” A light laugh bubbled past her lips. “Get her a teacher, too. Her gift of foresight is far too valuable to let it rust.”
Rising, Laurelin leveled her gaze with Caius. “Just do not lead her, nor Aiden, to harm.” She paused, thought, and added: "Please send my regards to Her Highness. For I plan to seek the other Chosen."
A rogue smile warmed her features as squeezed herself past Caius. “I’m ninety, by the way.” She had seen the look. Guessed at his internal monologue. He was not the first nor last human that would question her years.
Slipping past the ajar door, she walked out onto the street with renewed purpose.
It took all of her will to not whirl around at those words; she refused to reveal the shock, awe, and relief that warred within. “I see,” Laurelin said instead, eyes still fixated on the painting. It was a scenic piece. Some forest. “She’s here.” The elf sighed. Her shoulders dipped. “Truly.”
The crowned princess had survived what became of their world. Judging by the tone of Caius, she was doing well enough. Laurelin almost scoffed at herself. Here she was, sniveling like a child when the woman she had aided thrived. Adapted to survive and was making a name for herself. A sliver of hope wormed itself into her heart.
Perhaps she hadn’t failed, then. She hadn’t led her friends to death’s door. Subconsciously, Laurelin slid in a nearby chair. “There is a chance,” she murmured to herself. “The others are alive.”
She could not face the princess just yet. Whatever glory remained was all of theirs to carry. She would not claim it as her own. As much as she ached to see a familiar face, Laurelin could not be the only one. The Prophecy had read as such. It was all or none. Mind awhirl, Laurelin began calculating her next steps. First, however, Caius deserved some compensation for his information. Honesty would have to do.
“Look for a woman named Seraphine,” she said, addressing the Dragonblade leader. “At the Hero’s Tavern. She is who sent me.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the coastline as if words had escaped her. “Should you need members, I am sure she will be a welcomed presence.” A light laugh bubbled past her lips. “Get her a teacher, too. Her gift of foresight is far too valuable to let it rust.”
Rising, Laurelin leveled her gaze with Caius. “Just do not lead her, nor Aiden, to harm.” She paused, thought, and added: "Please send my regards to Her Highness. For I plan to seek the other Chosen."
A rogue smile warmed her features as squeezed herself past Caius. “I’m ninety, by the way.” She had seen the look. Guessed at his internal monologue. He was not the first nor last human that would question her years.
Slipping past the ajar door, she walked out onto the street with renewed purpose.
[ Caius Dragelion ]
