Remedium

"The woods were made for the hunter of dreams, the brooks for the fishes of song."

Light's Reach: Homesteads - 


 * The riverstone-paved highway of Mikin Road stalks her perfectly straight path along the gradual rises and dips of the landscape, bestowing the traveler with an idyllic peppering of cottages, gardens, livestock pens along the way. Most of the modest homes have been raised from the ground via a combination of stone, timber, and quaint bundles of thatch. The loving touch of flower and herb gardens sprouts eagerly at some doorsteps whereas others are kept barren by the nibbling jaws of sheep.


 * Marching ever westward, the omnipresent vista of the Light's Reach Mesa soon comes into view, a vast and expansive "table-top" area of elevated land with a flat top and sides that exist of steep cliffs. The only access to this mesa is via the eastern side, and it is this side which Mikin Road climbs to reach the illustrious gates of the reborn city above: Light's Reach.


 * A vast city, the urban area of Light's Reach spreads across the entirety of the mesa upon which it stands. A curtain wall surrounds the city, running around the perimeter of the mesa, while the eastern edge is guarded by two impressive walls known as the Twin Bulwarks. From outside, little of the city proper can be seen behind the rise of the bluff and the curtain walls that surround it.


 * However, the four torch-towers known as the Towers of Light in the "corners" of the city; each one taller than the walls that surround them, and each one holding a vast and perpetually burning torch flame at their zenith, casting warm illumination upon the area when darkness has fallen.

Though a Sovereign Prince by blood, the case can be made that Serath Valoria will always remain a ranger at heart, and perhaps even a revolutionary by nature. To that end, clad in the unique 'Sovereign's Raiment' of rich midnight blue leather and iron-plates spread between spaulders and longcoat, with a stalwart longsword sleeping softly within the scabbard on his back, one can find the Prince walking beneath sky and above soil on a southern path, away from the Light's Reach homesteads. This would also seem to be one of the few chances that Serath gets to be informal, for he walks with another Ranger who also happens to be related by blood: Vhramis Wolfsbane. As the evening is warm and the skies clear, so to is the conversation and tone, it seems, and it is apparent that the two have been walking for a while, as is sometimes their wont to do. "Which is why I need to leave Fastheld for a while," the Prince explains, evidently in the wake of elaboration and conversation that has passed, "The Light of Truth shines bright, but... the closer you get to the flame, Vhramis, the more it begins to burn. It's hard to explain, but I don't think I was meant to have this power for as long as I have."

With the urban bustle and din of Light's Reach at the pair's back, growing quieter with each distancing step, Wolfsbane begins to relax somewhat. At least as much as he ever does. "Some truths I don't think we were quite meant to know," he answers with a roll of his shoulder. "Not that I endorse ignorance, but..." He trails off into quizzical silence, rubbing a hand over his bristly scalp.

"Too much changes, like you said. It burns. And leaves it's mark." The truth of his words couldn't be more evident to any coincidental passersby and eavesdroppers at the moment, what with his gold flecked skin, and the stark white hair and intense blue gaze of his companion.

Serath nods in affirmation of Vhramis's words, watching other people as they travel to and from Light's Reach, keeping an eye on the caravans and horses and the riders of both, curious to see if anyone takes more than a passing interest in those two Sunkissed rangers of which one happens to be the highest power in Fastheld. Thankfully, his choice of attire has the desired effect of making the Prince look like any other adventurer to the untrained eye, and though both he and his companion share the look of Emperors past, there are few within the Kingdom who know Serath as more than just a name. Be that as it may, he gestures towards the southern treeline, just to be safe. "This may sound blasphemous, if not a little ironic as well," Serath offers, lowering the silky purr of his regal voice a little so only Vhramis can hear, "But I think I've begun to understand what the Drakar'ri speak of when they talk about the "Greater Balance", and I may have been unwittingly serving that cause all this time."

Vhramis turns where directed with an almost eager step, making way from the road, and for his part he's somewhat oblivious to the passing tradesmen and citizens. "It may seem presumptuous of me to say, what with your closeness to your companion who's been living with you for some time, but I think that's just the way of it. We're all left to act on our own, of course, but our paths intersect with those of others to steer events back towards that middle, and away from the extremes. Course, I suppose I could have just hit my head on too many low hanging branches over the years."

Another half shrug, and a furtive glance towards the sky, before he half turns to stalk in an odd sideways jaunt, allowing him to face Serath as he keeps pace. "Seems to me like the Drakes intervene when things are a bit off kilter, and need a firm adjusting. I can look at Light's Reach, and see what it is now, and still remember what it /was/ like when we were fleeing with all haste away from a raging Dracolich laying waste to it."

"Great Good and Great Evil in kind," the Prince explains in the wake of Vhramis's words, keeping his gaze ahead as the tree line approaches and Mikin Road draws away behind them. "The Dragons believe that both need to be kept in check, ensuring that the 'scales' are not tipped in one direction or the other. The "Great Good" part is a difficult concept to take on board, but if one thinks of the Church of True Light, then it becomes more apparent." "That I ultimately brought down the Church of True Light lends credence to the idea that I seem to be working to that end," he continues, softly. "I suppose, sometimes, too much "Good" can cause harm, just as much as too much Evil. The same, then, could be said about Light and Shadow, which is perhaps why I fear for the Imperial Cult as I do, and why the ghost of the Church of True Light needs to be kept from haunting the Ordinators and the opinions that the People hold of them. Too much bad blood - too many bad memories."

"It's a thought that would have had one burned at the stake for voicing several years back," states Wolfsbane with a grunt of agreement. "Though it's conceivable, especially when you view the whole awakening of Kas'arath as the catalyst that brought the Church to its knees, with Aisha'taria erupting from Halo." A pause at that as Vhramis considers the jumble of words, chewing over the names.

"People are often fairly good at not knowing when to quit," he adds with a blink.

Serath can't help but laugh at that, though the sound is one of dark amusement, rather than actual mirth. It also appears like his direction isn't quite as random as would otherwise appear. "Vhramis, if you so much as cast a shadow several years back, you'd be burned at the stake. At times, I wonder how we moved forward at all with the People living in perpetual fear of saying *anything* that didn't meet the approval of a Scourge or Priest, and with the contempt that the Blades had for the Church." "These are better times, I think," he concludes, "Though not without problems. At least now you can say that you saw a cloud that looked like a fish without some overbearing zealot whipping you to death until you declare that It Was Only A Cloud And You're Sorry."

Serath's companion chuckles quietly, finally turning forward again as they move deeper into the Dawnstar Forest. "Once a friend of mine decided to play a rather elaborate trick on me, and released several dozen rabbits into Wedgecrest Falls, likely in hopes of watching me rush about trying to retrieve them. A Scourge happened to be visiting my Lady Mikin at the time, and decided that they were creatures of the shadow, and proceeded to slaughter them all." A grimace of remembrance flashes upon his features. "We had to completely replace the rug and nearby tapestries."

The Prince sighs, ducking a little to move beneath a low-hanging branch as he does so, "Therein rests the taint of the Church: unchecked authority; laws unto themselves. You were connected to the Shadow in whatever way they deemed fit, and their word was final; roving Judge, Jury, and Executioners. I've heard tales of Scourges who butchered people in the streets for not showing them 'proper respect', promptly declaring that as an "act of Shadow against the Light". A perversion, if you will, by the Shadow to undermine the agents of the Light." He shakes his head, causing ripples of argent hair to cascade in the wake of the movement, "One extreme of the Greater Balance."

"Well," sighs Vhramis, glancing skyward again, and leaving it at that. Lacking another example, perhaps, to add to the exchange of stories, he simply allows the breeze to rustle the leaves of the forest to fill in the conversation. A response made not of words from the ranger, but one of simple being and presence, surrounded as they are by the thickening forest.

"Things continue regardless, don't they?" he states in a more quiet voice, interrupting the murmurs of the woodland.

“Hopefully for the better," Serath agrees, moving a little way away from Vhramis to round the other side of a tree that simply isn't going to move out of the way for him, before returning to the same pace and position as before. "I like to think I've reset the world and made it a better place. Ultimately, I have few regrets about what I've accomplished, save perhaps for the time with Rowena that I've lost. However, I've built a new Kingdom that I can share with her in the future, so I consider it an investment. It eases the guilt." "Regardless," the Prince promptly follows with, aiming to change the topic from that line of thought, "Speaking of change, I heard a rumor through various lines of connection that a certain former Scourge has taken more than just a passing interest in you." For a moment, Serath merely glances at Vhramis in silence, his questioning eyes of ethereal blue ablaze with a touch of mirth. "Is there truth in such rumors?"

Balance is lost in the wake of such a question, Vhramis stumbling over a poorly placed root as he struggles to respond. Staggering forward and maintaining his footing only by grave of the same tree Serath moved about, Wolfsbane pauses to stare at his half-brother. "Rumors? There are many such, of widely varying topics," he replies quickly, suddenly looking as if he feels rather trapped by that piercing gaze.

Several heartbeats pass, before he sighs, moving away from the tree once more to fall into step. "I'd not bring shame to Valoria, Serath. Never that. But Celeste is one of the few people I've ever met that I would call as pure of heart."

"Yes, but most of the rumors that I encounter are usually built on truth, Vhramis," Serath points out with a smile - either at Vhramis's less than perfect equilibrium vs. tree roots, or at his reaction to the question. Maybe both. He shakes his head all the same. "I had a conversation just yesterday in which I concluded the same thing," he notes, looking ahead again before veering in direction towards the south-west.

"More heart than sense, sometimes; a quality and a curse all in one. She has ambition but lacks direction, and wants *something* but doesn't seem to know *what*. Some would have called her the Bane of House Mikin, while others would name her as their Shining Light in the Darkness. She has a habit of polarizing people, I'll give her that."

Gathering himself once more, Vhramis falls back into his standard walk, stalking along patiently through the woods, stepping over various sources of noise as more of an unconscious action than anything else.

"I could almost say you were speaking of yourself, or me, from several years back, Serath," counters the ranger. "And even now, I suppose the boot still somewhat fits me. I wander just as much as ever." Eyes fix on something, darting off to the side curiously as he continues to speak.

"That depends on how you look at it," the Prince counters, shaking his head a little. "For most of my life, I had little say in the matter. Talus was to be Emperor, and I was to become his Guardian. The "spare" child who would act as a "second best" candidate if Talus had fallen before he had been crowned. To that end, my childhood was engineered towards that role: Talus was to lead, and I was to command. He was to be the voice, and I was to be his sword. What *I* wanted didn't matter; especially not to my father." Serath falls silent for a few moments in the wake of that memory, but it seems clear by his tone and the way he speaks of such things that there is no great pain there, but nor is there great love. There doesn't seem to be much of anything at all when he speaks of the Talus who was Emperor before his brother." "That's something I suppose we have in common, more than anything. So it doesn't come as much of a surprise that I sought freedom as soon as I could. Talus used to tell me that the Crown was less a symbol of rule than one of slavery. You have all the power in the realm at your fingertips, yet instead of liberating you it merely held you in place." He smiles a sad smile at that. "But, listen to me. Silly things in my head."

"It doesn't quite sound so silly to me as you may think," Wolfsbane puffs a breath, folding his hands on the top of his head. "In the short time I was able to know him, he clearly longed for much more. Or much less. I suppose the presence of one doesn't have to mean the lack of the other. Do you know he took the name Gerald? Geralt? Something along those lines." A glance to Serath. "He came to me as a Freelander, and I never even knew who he was, despite having seen him close once before. I would have never comprehended that it was possible that an Emperor would pretend to be anything but just that."

"And yet," Serath points out with that same soft smile, "Here we are, walking through a forest together. Not as a Sovereign Prince of the Blood and a Freelander, but as friends and brothers. All things are possible, if the motivation is there. Geralt, though. Talus always did have a penchant for odd names." Silence interjects itself as the Prince dwells upon memories of his brother. Good or bad, they remain secrets of his alone; secrets that even the heavens are not privy to. "So what do you intend to do with Celeste Valoria?" he finally asks, though not as pointedly.

"I don't know," replies the ranger simply. "Even just the thought of proceeding to simply try to do something seems like it'd bring down the wrath of the nobility upon my head. I'd bring about shame to her, whether I intended it or not, from a good number. Though whether she'd even give it a thought is another matter, but I'm somewhat afraid of Rowena. She could likely strangle me with rather little trouble if she wished it."

"Yes, she could," Serath remarks with a touch of affection in regards to the subject, a soft laugh flowing in the wake of such a statement. "Everyone thinks that Zolor is the head of the Government, and I - as Sovereign Prince - remain the greatest power overall within the Kingdom, but that's not entirely true. In truth, I keep tabs on Zolor, and Rowena keeps tabs on me. Thus, unofficially, Rowena Valoria remains the *real* power within Fastheld." The sound of flowing water can be heard ahead.

"Which simply makes her all the more intimidating," grumbles Wolfsbane, though not without his own hint of affection towards the Duchess. "Much like Kalath'aria: a more beautiful sight I couldn't imagine, but I'd just as much prefer to not see her claws and teeth." A blink. "Though I'm not comparing her to a Drake, mind you. At least not in the sense that she has scales and sharp teeth. Eh." With a wave of his hand at that, the ranger gives up on that tangent.

"Part of me suspects that you almost regret burning a certain document a few months ago," Serath surmises in a knowing tone of voice, stepping up and over a tree stump as he does so, though without making much sound in the process. "However, another part of me suspects that you enjoy being who you are now, and the freedom it grants you, far too much to pretend to be something you're not." "Equally," he continues, evidently follow the threads of his thought process, "If that was a path you *were* thinking about, I would first have you wonder what Celeste Valoria would be willing to sacrifice for *you*, before you set out what you'd be willing to sacrifice for her." "You know," he adds, after something strikes him, "I wonder if that's what Taran was seeking."

"Am I that transparent?" Wolfsbane asks a passing chitter, earning nary a look from the rodent. "I'm somewhat worried, Serath. I've felt lost before, but not in such a manner. This is different than simply losing one's way in a forest somewhere. There's usually a tree you can climb to get a better look around, after all." He bites at his bottom lip and lowers his arms once more. "You know, Taran came to me at one point, out in the Wildlands, to ask me somewhat the same question. What I intended for Celeste."

"Well, you *could* marry her, and you would remain her consort, in regards to how these things work on a social and political level," Serath explains, moving towards the sound of running water, "Though you would remain a Freelander and she a Noble, and any children born of such a union would take your name and remain Freelanders as well. However, I suspect that scenario has already been explained to her, and - if I'm hunting the right rabbit - it was not, shall we say, an acceptable concept." "Failing that," he continues, "She could make a sacrifice for you and renounce her nobility. It would at least show that she's sincere, though I doubt that would be an acceptable outcome either. In truth, it might be far less of a headache to remain lovers, but little more. If the binds are uncomfortable, don't wear them. Anyway, we're getting closer."

"I don't know who would have explained such to her," Vhramis replies, seeming vaguely confused by that. "Though...I confess I don't know if she's spoken about this to others or not. She hasn't said anything to me about it." A quick shake of his head, before the man's attention focuses on the nearing sound as it begins to grow more noticable amongst the rest of the forest. "I didn't quite know the options either."

His steps speed slightly as that unknown destination draws closer, as the growing proximity draws forth an equal curiosity in Wolfsbane. "...where is it that we're getting closer to? A brook?"

"You'll figure it out," Serath offers in a knowing tone of voice - though if he means the destination, or who the person who would have explained things to Celeste would have been, is a mystery. Again, though, the offering would seem to work for both options, and perhaps was intended to. It is lost in the moment, though, as the forest clears the small river of Mongoose Creek presents itself; it's night-kissed surface shimmering with refracted light as it flows in the shadow of the bluff to the north, and the Torch Towers that burn brightly upon it.

Mongoose Creek - 


 * Flowing north to south from its sources beneath the Light's Reach Mesa and out of Fastheld in the south via a gated culvert in the southern Aegis wall, Mongoose Creek is a wide if not relatively shallow stretch of crystal-clear water that follows a fairly linear path through the southwestern reaches of the Dawnstar Forest across a firm bed of rocks and smooth pebbles.


 * With a healthy current and flow all through the year thanks to having a number of headwaters at its origin, Mongoose Creek is nothing short of beautiful, with the waters and their numerous channels, waterfalls, and cascades creating some dramatic and breathtaking scenery when coupled with the natural brilliance of the forest and the flora that surround it.


 * Having few meander and a steady gradient as it flows towards the Aegis, the creek is fairly easy to trace and follow. Shallow enough so that someone can wade through it without much trouble, though deep enough to provide a sustaining habitat for a number of species of fish and water-based wildlife, it is a jewel of Fastheldian landscape, and great efforts have been undertaken to keep it that way.


 * To the north, one can make out the tall cliffs of the Light's Reach Mesa itself, as well as the light-blessed city that is the reborn Light's Reach upon it.

Wolfsbane steps into the clearing, eyes lowering down upon the rushing creek. "I'll figure something out," he agrees, sounding confident of that much. Breaking away from Serath, he approaches the bank, peering down into the dark water to watch the wavering images of the moons dance. After tiring of the show, at least with the mystery of where exactly it is he was taken looming about, he turns back on his heels to regard the Prince.

"And this is where we part ways for a while," Serath notes, though - curiously - without any hint of regret in his tone. No, instead there seems only to be some degree of mischief. It is a mischief that prevails while the Prince of the Blood dips a hand into one of the pockets of his longcoat and, after fishing around for a moment, produces a silver key. The key in question looks like it hasn't been used much, if at all, and is an item that he promptly offers towards Vhramis for the ranger to take.

"Where is it you'll go?" Wolfsbane asks, approaching Serath once more to consider the key he holds. "I hope you'll send word to me, at least occasionally, to let me know how you're coming along. Not to sound like a domineering spouse, of course. Unless you're game to let me follow you about once more for another adventure... though I somehow think I'm meant to sit this one out."

"Back to Ravenrend in the Darklands, west of the Jadesnake," Serath softly explains as he holds the key towards Vhramis. "Back to where this began. I intend to end one journey with a new beginning; to return the flame to the candle, so to speak. Take the key."

"And that's something I should not follow you to," Vhramis mutters, reaching out to tentatively receive the key. "I hope you'll bid farewell to your companion for me. She almost seems to be a bit of a friend, now, even if I hardly know or understand." A quirk of a smile, then, as he considers Serath. "But, like I said...some things aren't meant to be understood."

"She'll return to living in shadow, rather than in my head," the Prince offers, folding his arms against his chest as he attempts to explain the unexplainable in terms that one can actually get their head around. "Beyond that, I can't say. I don't think "farewell" is quite in the equation, but nor will I have to share a bath with her anymore... much to Rowena's pleasure."

At that, Serath waits for Vhramis to ask a question related to the item that was just exchanged, evidently more than a little amused that the ranger accepted said item without asking what it was for.

"I'd say she, the Drake, will be glad for that as well," Wolfsbane replies with a half laugh, before peering at the key then. He lifts it to his nose to sniff at it, for some odd reason, and then proceeds to poke it lightly at his arm. "Where's this unlock?"

With a knowing smile, and with eyes of cold blue lit with mirth, Serath gestures across to the other side of the river with his right hand. "Over there," he explains... For across the river, nestled between trees upon the western shore of Mongoose Creek, camouflaged within the darkness of the forest that surrounds it, stands a large wooden structure - a lodge. A lodge that happens to be at least the same size as the Bronze Hall that rests within Fastheld Keep, though appears to be a much more recent addition to the Kingdom of Fastheld. "Welcome home, Pathfinder."

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