forum after all this time - 3/3 - closed

Started December 06, 2022 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

Edvin is a heavy sleeper. He has slept through the worst thunderstorms that the kingdom has experienced. One time he fell asleep during a celebration for his birthday and it was noisy from all the music and chattering, but none of it was a match for him. Even the whispers of shadows do not bother him anymore; sometimes they lull him to sleep. Other times he is just exhausted and ignores them. So when he fell asleep during Reiner's story, he was out. Nothing could harm his slumber.

Eventually the little prince does have to wake up. The adventure to save Keosalon starts today. He groaned when feeling someone shake his arm. It took him a minute to finally give in and open his eyes. At first, he was slightly confused when waking up to see that this was not his chambers. He knows where he is, it's just that sometimes sleep can confuse things for a moment or so. All it takes is for him to collect his thoughts then he remembers everything once again.

He rubbed his eyes then stretched out his arms. Untying the ribbon around his wrist, he used it to tie his hair up into a bun. "Good morning," He yawned. Rubbing his eyes ince again, he looked at Clarke then Reiner. "Are we to leave really soon?" Perhaps he should change into the plain looking clothes that he packed in his cross bag; it is still by the couch where he left it last night.

The warrior watches the small prince wake with a feeling he can't quite place. The sight is suffocating domestic, with Renier slowly rousing the boy. He has to turn away with a scoff and shake of his head. He prays the sight will lose all novelty soon, for he could possibly find himself liking their odd situation more than intended. His sword perfectly shines in the first rays of the morning light. Clarke can already smell the blood his blade will taste.

He retrieves the packs from where he left them on the table, doing one last check to ensure that they're adequately packed. He has fresh cloaks folded next to them, one of them sloppily rehemmed to be a few feet shorter. After all, Clarke is a swordsman, not a tailor.

With a sigh, the man looks out the window to his small little farm he had built for himself in the past four years. Various crops, a working irrigation system, handmade planters. Clarke wonders if the splinters he'll inevitably get on the voyage will remind him of home. To be frank, Clarke knows that nearly everything will somewhat remind him of the house he built from the ground up. He had never been a materialistic person, but he can't help but dread the thought of leaving it behind.

Perhaps he was getting too comfortable in his retirement.

"Are you accompanying me to town?" He asks, buckling a cloak around his neck. "I have to acquire a few horses. I don't care if you come with, but you should probably eat some breakfast." He sets his boot on the table with a thunk, the man reaching down to tighten the laces. His hands are already gloved; there are knives strapped to his belt. "Plus, I don't know if there are guards looking for you. "

"I'll accompany you," Ren states, jumping on the opportunity. They stand up then turn to Clarke. "And I can prepare him food." They tell him, referring to Edvin. The promise they'd made to themself was not lost overnight.

Renier figured what they already had would be enough to cover up their identity. The clothes in Edvin's bag should probably be enough, but they'd work something out if not. The bard was feeling strangely optimistic compared to the last few days. It was hard to pinpoint why. It could have been their usual confidence- after all, that's what it usually was. They walked into the kitchen-area and got a serving for Edvin, some for themself. Ren placed the bowl on the table for the child.

While they had their breakfast, Renier recounted the clothing they'd brought with them; Thankfully, they already had a cloak as well. From what they could remember, there was some kind of cloth in their bag that could act as a sort of loose scarf to cover the bottom half of their face. Hopefully, that'd be enough, in addition to what they were already dressed in. There wasn't much they could do for the bag itself, unfortunately. The drum would not fot anywhere other than on the outside and, to them, the thought of leaving without it stood next to walking onto an open battlefield without armor. So long as their cloak stayed on and they didn't get too cocky it probably wouldn't become an issue.

Renier finished their food as they finished pondering this. Like the night prior, they cleaned their dish and returned it to its original place.

It probably would be best for him to stay here. On the other hand, he does not like the idea of being alone. When Edvin means alone, he means not in the presence of physical beings of flesh and blood. Shadows don't really count. He doesn't understand why they always show up when he's alone and sometimes do when he's around others. They are such strange beings for sure.

After slipping out of bed, he turned to pull the sheets up and take the doll. He walked out of the bedroom to pick up the bag. It dragged behind him as he went to go get dressed. A few minutes went by while he did his best to get dressed as quickly as possible. Getting ready by himself is not something that he is used to doing. Back in the palace, a servant would be there to help him right as he wakes up. Surely being sleepy has the process of putting on a brown linen long sleeve shirt, pants, and thin coat a bit difficult.

Edvin went out with the fancy clothes tucked underneath his arm. The doll was in the bag which he wore across himself. At the smell of food, he hummed with a little grin. He was went over to the table and sat down. Just like the night before, the little prince took his time eating. Once he was done, he made sure that everything was cleaned up.

Walking up to Clarke, he held the palace court clothes up. Yes they are wrinkly, but he does not know how fold them properly. Still, he wants to get rid of them. What better way to do that then to sell them? "When you go, can you sell these please," He asked then added on, "They are silk and I do not want them anymore. They should be worth a decent amount. You can use the money on whatever, I do not want any. Please."

(hi guys sorry this is so late i had a crazy ass week)

Clarke stares at the child for a moment before taking the offered clothes. "Alright," he grumbles, folding the clothes a little smaller and then shoving them into one of his pockets. It's odd that the child was so quick to give something from his home up, but Clarke knows that he's no sort of child psychologist so he lets it go. "Let's head to town then. I don't know if there are hunters waiting for you two in the town, so I recommend… concealing yourselves."

Not sure if he should say anything else, Clarke nods and turns for the door, already flipping his own hood over his braided ash hair. Per usual, he has knives strapped to his belt, but they've been sharpened to a point sometime during the night. The walk into the town is short. In regards to the stereotypical traveler's village, Smoann runs perfectly in line. There's a tavern with fairly attractive waitresses, plenty of semi-clean inns, and is only hit moderately by whatever seasonal sickness is in fashion. Clarke has slain quite a few monsters for the people. He hoped it would earn him a little pay and respect, but all it got him was a fan club. Grumbling to himself, Clarke tugs the hood of his cloak a little further over his eyes and listens closely to ensure the bard and child are still following him.

The horseman lives just outside of the town, thank god. Clarke prays that nobody sees his face, for both their sake, his companion's sake, and his own sake. It's only a few more minutes to the large stables, the horseman a short, middle-aged man that looks as if he should harbor a beer-belly, but instead is lean and fairly athletic. He has two sons in their teenage years, both of them watching from the rafter windows.

"I need three horses." Clarke, ever the one to get straight to the point, huffs and slams a bag of coins onto a nearby barrel. The horseman pauses his morning grooming and stares at the warrior. "I need them now."

Renier followed Clarke carefully, while also glancing around the town. They swore they'd performed there at some point, maybe a few months before meeting Clarkeston, coincidentally. At one point while walking they grabbed Edvin's hand, for the fear that they might lose track of him when cutting through larger groups of people. It made them nervous, how small he was.

The whole time, Renier was paranoid that the cloth might come loose or that they'd somehow look too recognizable. They tried to tie it tightly around their mouth and nose for a few minutes of this trek through the town but it was too stifling for them. They trusted their hood to cover enough as well.

For a moment Ren stopped to glance at a poster nailed to the side of a building. They squinted at it from afar, then looked down at Edvin. Looking at this made them more anxious so they continued on as if they hadn't seen it.

Clarkeston demanded the three horses. A few years ago they would have chided him and told him to be less forceful. Or they would have done it themself from the beginning. But it felt stupid to use their voice when they were likely wanted and didn't have to. Instead they tried to make direct eye contact with the horseman, trying not to come off as pleading or desperate, but just to be polite. This might have looked strange with most of their face concealed, but Renier never cared too much if they came off as eccentric.

Edvin strolled along next to Reiner. Before they had left, he removed the ribbon to let his hair down. It was just another precaution to keep himself hidden even though he has a cloak on. He wished he had time to twirl around in this cloak. The feeling of the fabric is lovely.

For a good part of the time they walked, he was worried about what could happen. There were a lot of people. Sometimes it got crowded. Would he get lost? Would he be found by a mercenary or a wandering soldier? Some of his worries were calmed down by Reiner holding his hand. From then on, he stared straight ahead as the three of them walked to the stables.

The little prince was distracted as Clarke was demanding for horses. He kept staring at a flower in the distance. It stood alone with its white petals. If he could, he would pick it, but he didn't want to disturb it. Although he has to keep quiet, he wanted to point it out to Reiner and Clarke.

Something tugged on the end of his cloak. He began to hear whispers. At first, he did not have any problems with them. They were incoherent. It came to a point where he started to frown. His eyebrows lowered as he looked over his shoulder at the shadows on the ground. He tried to shush them, but they chuckled back at him.

"Three horses?" The man repeats. He's chewing on a stalk of straw, switching it from one side of his mouth to the other as he gnaws on it. His tired eyes never leave Clarke's face. They're too relaxed, not nearly as on edge as they should be. When he speaks next, his tone is a lazy drawl and Clarke can't stand it. "I dunno if we can–"

"I asked for three horses." His voice dropping, his eyes flashing, and his fist gripping the bag of coins, Clarke glares at the stableman. "What gold's inside the bag should be plenty. Buy yourself some new horses and keep the more than generous amount leftover." A wave of silence settles over the ranch. From within the window, the stableman's children duck out of sight. Clarke can hear their nervous chittering.

Sighing, the stableman opens his mouth and allows the gnarled straw to fall to the grass. "Fine by me sir, right this way." Gesturing over his shoulder, the stableman heads down a worn path to some distant stables. It's been far too long since Clarke has ridden a horse, but it's too well engrained in his mind. Forgetting how to ride would be like forgetting how to breathe. He can't quite say the same for his companions.

When the stableman stops, Clarke is quick to step to his side. Within the stables, there are eight well-bred stallions and mares. "Take yer pick," the man grumbles before waddling out of the building.

Renier looks down at Edvin. Was he hushing someone? They thought he was. Maybe they were just hearing things that weren't there. They were a little on edge after seeing the flyer.

"I asked for three horses."

Renier, slightly behind Clarke, rolls their eyes. Sure, they're on his side, but they wanted so badly to correct him on his persuasion. He's intimidating and blunt, and that was enough, but it's also unbecoming. They also doubt he cares about that, which they kind of liked when they first met him- they still do, but it annoyed them more in the last few years before they separated. Next time, Renier tells themself, they will step ahead and bargain for him. His method is bound to fail someday, they believe. Even if it is admirable.

But today, thankfully, the stablesman agrees. "Come," Renier whispers to Edvin as they start to follow Clarkeston. Instead of grabbing his hand, this time the bard holds their's out to the heir.

Renier catches up with Clarkeston and stands next to him, looking around at the horses. One that was the color of charcoal catches their eye, only because it's pretty. It'd been a while since Renier had ridden a horse, and animals were never that fond of them, unlike what is said about other bards. They decide to take whichever lets them mount it, if they are able to even do that. They are unsure about how well they'd be able to after so long, since they more often travel on foot. Just to show that they could, they would try. Can't be that hard.

The shadows kept on with their teasing. Meanwhile the little prince was not enjoying it unlike the previously before. It is important that everyone, including the shadows remain calm and quiet, so then Clarke can get the horses without any problems. And yet, the shadows decided that now must be a good time to continue tugging on Edvin's cloak or whispering nonsense.

"Stop it, please," He hushed. The shadows froze for a moment then laughed. Edvin frowned while staring at the shadows on the ground. In the midst of frustration, he pointed at them while whispering, "Stop." As his index finger had pointed, they became silent. Without another thought, the prince returned to looking ahead and watching Clarke trying to get horses. He frowned again. The warrior can say "please", it might make things easier for them all. Never underestimate the power of a simple word like please.

Or not. Gold works too, he supposes. Thankfully the stableman is convinced. He gazed up at Reiner then took the bard's hand. Edvin walked alongside them. In the corner of his eye, he could see that the shadows were following him. They were silent, but they moved swiftly.

He is excited to see horses. All this time he has only see them from the window in his bed chambers. One time he saw His Majesty on one. Edvin never rode a horse. His mother and the king are worried about him falling off of one. In a way, they instilled the fear in him. Still, Edvin stood by Reiner while taking a look at all the horses with wide eyes.

(i am so so sorry it's been two weeks)

Clarke slowly pads down the hay-covered aisle, his eyes sweeping over each of the steeds locked behind their stables. A few of them are smaller, built for more leisurely riding. Others are quite literally war horses bred to be stalky and led into combat. Clarke has to dismiss the larger ones. They may be able to take a few hits, but they won't be fast enough for this crucial mission. He stops in the second to last stall, staring down a charcoal mare with a silky black mane.

He supposes she reminds him of the horse he had years ago. He called her Willow, after the tree she loved to nibble on whenever she had the chance. There had been a few times when she'd lead them off the beaten path in favor of the weeping tree. Clarke doesn't smile at the memories, and instead swallows them back.

"Pick your horses," Clarke orders back to the child and the bard. "I've already found mine." He unlinks the stable door and steps back. Obediently, the new horse steps out of her quarters. It's probably not included in their payment, but that doesn't stop Clarke from pulling a saddle from the shelves on the walls. He must have picked her saddle correctly, for it slides on without resistance.

(its okay!!)

Ren watches Clarkeston saddle his mare. They take note to watch him closely whenever he mounts it, in hopes that if they'd forgotten anything, seeing someone else might remind them. They walk between the stables, examining the horses. The bard stops at a chestnut-colored stallion and starts to unhitch the door before it steps back, adjusting its footing. Taking this as a sign, Renier locks it again, unwilling to force any to let them ride it. They'd been bucked off twice before. The second time it was weeks before they chose to continue riding, and they are careful not to let it happen again. Far too embarrassing (and inconvenient, they suppose) to be limping around like they were.

Renier turns and looks around after their first attempt. Their attention is focused on a mare, completely white aside from a gray stripe from her forehead down to the end of her nose. Slowly, they walk toward her. She doesn't hesitate or appear wary when they begin to unhitch the stall and open it. Trying to see if she would be fine with them coming closer to her, Ren tentatively raises their hand, then lowers it when she doesn't recoil. Bewildered, they stare a moment longer, then carefully examine the saddles before guessing which might fit.

"I've found mine," Renier says unnecessarily. "Do any draw your attention?" They ask Edvin. They realize they feel unfit to teach him how to handle a horse, given their skill. That irks them a little. It feels unlikely that he had been taught by anyone else, though.

Standing idly by, the little prince kept his chin lowered to the ground. At first he stared at the straw until a shadow appeared in front of him. Deciding to not give it any attention, Edvin watched as Clarke and Renier chose their horses. He frowned.

Edvin picked at the edge of his sleeve. He took a glimpse around at all the horses before shaking his head. "No." He does not know much about horses, let alone how to properly ride one. It's an embarrassment since boys in the royal family and palace guards begin learning around the time they are seven. He is two years behind.

Anything he knows about riding horses is from whatever the shadows have told him. That or the few times where he was able to watch soldiers or important officials mount their horses before speeding off. Neither of which had really been useful in learning how to ride a horse.

"Do I have to have my own horse?" His voice was weak and weary. He kept his eyes from making eye contact with Reiner, Clarke, the shadows and horses. While it may be exhausting, Edvin would rather walk.

Clarke's already mounted on his horse when the boy speaks. "Would you like your own horse?" He answers, voice gruff and edging with the exhaustion of the sleepless night. The mare beneath him whinnies; Clarke runs a soft hand down the side of her charcoal neck to calm her. As he looks over the different steeds standing in their stalls, Clarke notes that there's really none that are quite the size of the boy. Small. Delicate. Probably prone to break a knee or two.

With a sigh, Clarke shakes his head. "No, I suppose you can ride with me or Renier if you want." There's no sense in scaring the child into riding a horse. When Clarke was young, he knew other boys who were terrified of horses. Clarke could never truly understand. He had always wanted to leap and ride any sort of quadruped that came into sight. There was even one instance with an eagle, but Clarke chooses to deeply repress that memory.

He snaps and points to the remaining group of saddles hanging from the stable wall. As soon as Renier is mounted and ready, they'll be saying good riddance to the cottage and then riding off into the red sunrise. Three weeks, if they make haste. The importance of this mission is high. He'll ask the child what powers the talisman locket possesses later down the trail.

Renier considered this for a moment. It felt dicey to possibly put the child at risk, but they also weren't that bad at riding.. the horse seemed tolerant to them. More than usual, thankfully. They trusted themself to carry Edvin with them more than they trusted themself to try and quickly teach him to ride himself. Making it Clarke's concern was already off the table. This was their responsibility, they thought to themself. Plus, Ren felt the three would have to leave soon.

"You can be with me." Renier said. They led the mare to Edvin and lifted him up, placing him carefully on the back part of the saddle. "Is that good?"

Renier then took a moment to go about mounting the horse themself. They did, with only a minor amount of struggle, and a little less graceful than they intended. But still, the bard was thankful that they hadn't forgotten how to entirely. It might just take some warming up. And with the heir on the same mare, they'd be sure to be extra careful.

"Wrap your arms around my back," they instructed, turning slightly to face Edvin. "You- you are unlikely to fall, but just to be sure." Adding this felt important, given his inexperience. Frightening him was among the last of Ren's intentions.

Admitting his fear to Clarke and Renier is something he wants to avoid. Edvin took one more look at the remaining horses in their stables. They all are gigantic. All that His Majesty would be more than able to ride. Edvin, on the other hand, cannot. He shook his head.

Edvin turned stiff the moment he was placed on the horse. All he could do aside from tensing up was imaging how his parents would react. The fear that would rest on his mother's face if she ever saw him on a horse like this. She would grow ill in the fragile state she is already in. His Majesty would panic. The king only would out of worry about his crown.

This was uncomfortable to him. It was terrifying. And yet, he nodded at Reiner. Better than nothing, he supposed. In this situation, he has no other options, so he will force himself to get used to riding this mare. It shouldn't be bad for he will be with Reiner.

Following the instruction given, he wrapped his arms around the bard's back. He tried to relax himself for the sake of them both, but it was hopeless. He isn't sure if he will be able to relax until he gets the opportunity to get off this horse.

Clarke watches the child on the horse, noting his discomfort but choosing not to say anything about it. There's no need to embarrass the poor child when he's already so out of his element. Clarke has to wonder if the small prince has ever truly felt the joy that accompanies horseback riding. The speed, the freedom, the wind biting and nipping his face–it's been far too long since Clarke has been on a mount. Perhaps he's been missing the comfort of a sturdy horse. It's been years since he had last been with another. Willow is likely dead by now. Either that or she's ancient and still kicking in some glorious field somewhere.

"We should get going while the day is new," Clarke grumbles, softly chiding his new mare towards the gaping door of the stable. "We'll be back at the cottage to grab everything we'll need, and then we're off." To where exactly, Clarke has no clue. He'll ask questions later. As for now, all he cares about is getting the hell out of this town. Who knows what sleazy guards will be lurking around corners, waiting to steal the prince back to his home and collect the hearty bounty.

Without another word–silence often the best tactic for the warrior–Clarke hustles out of the barn. The stableman looks perplexed. There's a new stalk of wheat between his teeth; his children linger in the upstairs window, balking at the rumored Demon of Umber. Clarke's jaw sets. He was praying that they would be unnoticed, but it seems the gods did not favor the man that morning. Perhaps they're holding their gifts for a more useful time, but Clarke refuses to be that faithful in deities he's never met. With the back of his boot, Clarke jabs the mare in the ribs as they take off down the road they came from. Renier should be able to keep up, that is if their riding skills hadn't weakened over their hiatus.

Edvin attaches himself to Renier, and they feel the unease in his arms. The nervousness from him isn't very surprising- with parents like his, the bard would have been surprised if he'd ever even been outside the walls of his home. If he had, there was no way he'd been very far out. Ren is a little saddened by this. How could anyone go so long without leaving one place? Searching for this locket is not what they had in mind for him, though.

Renier rides the horse out of the stable. They notice the stableman's sons through the window as they look up. Adjusting the cloth over their nose and mouth to better conceal their face, they give a slight wave to the children before picking up their pace to be riding a little behind Clarke.

The bard watches their surroundings carefully as they leave the village. They aren't sure how well their identity is hidden, especially when paired with Clarkeston. His height is a little hard to miss, and the height difference between him and Ren doesn't do much to help that. It dawns on them that the children back at the stable might've recognized the warrior. If this was true, they wonder how noticeable they all would be to someone looking for them.

Trying to come to a census with his heart and mind was a difficult task. Eventually his shoulders began to ache from being stiff so he had to relax them. Edvin started to think of things in order to keep himself calm. While it did not completely remove the anxiety, it did enough for him to not panic once the horse began to move.

Edvin did not look back. As a matter of fact, he did not look anywhere. He kept his eyes on the ground as the three (or five, if you count the horses too) moved. Sure reality is not like the stories he has been told or the rumors he often heard, but he wondered if there were any mercenaries or soldiers hidden somewhere. The shadows were there. He could not see them, yet he felt their presence. There were faint whispers echoing in his ears.

Somehow, everything was fine for the time being; at least for the little prince. Aside from the fear of falling off the horse, he was looking forward to getting back to the cottage then going off onto an adventure. Edvin dreamed of being outside of the castle and traveling around parts of the world. For a while now, he knew that he wanted to see certain parts before growing old. There is a lot on the nine year old prince's mind for it is as vast as the world is.