Brooke moved to chase after Drysi, but Destiny put a hand on her shoulder. Everyone handles fortunes differently, and none of them were the wrong way. As the Fatecaller explained, Drysi would end up exactly where she needed to be. So Drysi ran, and continued to run as she wound around people objects and locations as she tried to distance herself from fate. Her body led her on a path of least resistance, and thus found herself moving downwards until finally she came to a stop; if simply an involuntary one. As Drysi wound the stairs down to the main hall she collided with the backside of a solidly built man casually taking a stroll. The man stumbled. Drysi stumbled. If Gideon had legs he’d probably be stumbling too. The man thankfully seemed to have good reaction time for as he was unexpectedly pushed from behind he caught stable footing, spun, and caught Drysi as well; but not one to settle for mundane, the man spun Drysi in a dancer’s flourish that finished with her standing safely on her own two feet.
“Enchantée,” spoke the man in a low Scottish brogue. It was Roan looking no worse for wear as he resituated himself. The Keeper planted a hand on his hip while his other scratched his stubble covered chin contemplatively. “Wha’ seems ty be the ‘urry? ‘aab’dy gen’rally rushes t’ords the Mess at Supper, nae awee. Is sumthenn amiss, Miss Drysi MacFlynn?”
[The Keep] Walking to Skye
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Sparkling stars flooded Drysi’s vision when she came to a sudden stop against Roan. Those stars gave way to the breathlessness of recent exertion and harrowing revelation. Even when she had been righted Drysi kept staring on through the man. Only when she realized she couldn’t move, she looked up at the rugged, handsome scot. The apprentice blushed, seeing why he would try to charge for using his charms to gather intelligence at the bar.
“Maelgwyn,” corrected Drysi in the flattest, briefest clarity, before her head swam again.
A fire built up in her chest that threatened to burst forth. A dreaded high to swing to from a terrible low. Anger. Bitterness. Loathing. Gideon went to work, trying to sooth this transition, letting his druid collect herself.
“I saw… I heard something awful,” managed Drysi, clenching her teeth, trying to pull her shawl up, “I had to run. I have to go.”
She reluctantly shied away, “Do you know where my Master Flynn is? I need to go.”
“Maelgwyn,” corrected Drysi in the flattest, briefest clarity, before her head swam again.
A fire built up in her chest that threatened to burst forth. A dreaded high to swing to from a terrible low. Anger. Bitterness. Loathing. Gideon went to work, trying to sooth this transition, letting his druid collect herself.
“I saw… I heard something awful,” managed Drysi, clenching her teeth, trying to pull her shawl up, “I had to run. I have to go.”
She reluctantly shied away, “Do you know where my Master Flynn is? I need to go.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Sorry t’ ‘ear tha’, lassy, an’ Ah’m sorry t’ say Flynn indisposed,” Roan spoke in a sympathetic tone as he gave Drysi a bit of space now that the teen was stabilized. “I’d invited him for some beers at the gatehouse, but seems he’s been called into a meeting with Ol’ Silas an’ Miss Mealla. Not sure what it’s ‘bout, but Flynn seemed to think it wae gonna take a wee bit.”
The puckish Scot scratched his stubble, and he appeared to be thinking of what to do. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and leaned forward, placing himself closer to eye level with Drysi.
“How’s ‘bout yee hop on out tae the cottage wi’ me. I’ll whip u’ some tea, ye can enjoy some fresh air out in the valley. Git’chye outta this claustrophobic castle fir a minute. ‘ow’s tha’ sound?”
The puckish Scot scratched his stubble, and he appeared to be thinking of what to do. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and leaned forward, placing himself closer to eye level with Drysi.
“How’s ‘bout yee hop on out tae the cottage wi’ me. I’ll whip u’ some tea, ye can enjoy some fresh air out in the valley. Git’chye outta this claustrophobic castle fir a minute. ‘ow’s tha’ sound?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Learning that her main point of egress was not just occupied, but detained by the powers on high, brought Drysi back into reality. For a moment, she thought that running might solve her problem, but now there was no easy way out. She couldn’t just remove herself to keep fate from happening. Her Master was probably getting bullied by the Ard Rhys while Chief Brennan was made to watch. Nothing could be done until he was free.
The alternative was going with a man to have tea in his cottage. Alone. Drysi’s chest rose as she fluffed her hair with her palm. It was almost a fun idea, until she realized going to tea with older men in their cottages was just something she did on the regular.
“Some fresh air might do me good, thank you,” concurred Drysi, “I haven’t been outside since this morning.”
Sheepishly, she gathered herself, realizing where she was and what she had done, “Terribly sorry for running into you. Slamming into you. I think I mistook you for a door.”
”A door?” Gideon asked, getting a better look at Roan, and seeding doubt in his druid’s heart.
“A handsome door.”
The alternative was going with a man to have tea in his cottage. Alone. Drysi’s chest rose as she fluffed her hair with her palm. It was almost a fun idea, until she realized going to tea with older men in their cottages was just something she did on the regular.
“Some fresh air might do me good, thank you,” concurred Drysi, “I haven’t been outside since this morning.”
Sheepishly, she gathered herself, realizing where she was and what she had done, “Terribly sorry for running into you. Slamming into you. I think I mistook you for a door.”
”A door?” Gideon asked, getting a better look at Roan, and seeding doubt in his druid’s heart.
“A handsome door.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
The Scot stared for a moment as he processed the last comment, and then let out a healthy belt of laughter that had him patting his stomach.
“Y’ur jus’ like Flynn. Natural comedian,” Roan continued through a couple chuckles as he turned and waved for Drysi to follow. The two druids began to walk through the main hall back to the courtyard. Once outside, Drysi would feel that the early evening had become quite pleasant compared to the damp chill of the Scottish morning. The sun had since sunk below the top of Sgùrr Alasdair and now neared the horizon. While still a couple hours of daylight left, the light filtering into the Black Valley began to tinge everything a warm shade of yellow. The hustle and bustle of the courtyard had relaxed since the Keeper Training, and now the shaded alcoves were inhabited by druids from numerous circles enjoying the fresh air.
Passing through the gate and beyond the barrier of Carneath, it seemed the day simply was decidedly pleasant. The damp of the morning had gone, and the heavy mists of the day before were a distant memory. The air had lost much of its humidity, and had a crispness to it, like a spring day after a rainstorm. Crossing the short distance to the cottage Roan opened the gate leading into his small yard, and Drysi was greeted by the quaint sight of the Scotman’s garden. It surrounded a small patio with a rustic wooden table and a few chairs, and while being a good bit more modest than Ruarc’s garden still boasted a nice spread of fragrant flowers and a patch for vegetables. Beside the table was Roan’s dog, resting on a simple padded sheet. No sooner had Roan stepped past the gate then the dog woke up and hurried over to the druids, eager for pets.
“Workin’ ‘ard I see, eh Cordy?” Roan greeted the Australian Shepherd with two-handed pets, rocking the dog’s head side to side as its looked quite happy. The moment the pets stopped, the dog turned to look inquisitively at Drysi. “Good Cordy, sit until Miz Maelgwyn here agrees t’ pet ya. Drysi, this is Corduroy. Cordy for short. I’ll pop inside and get that tea rolling. Fell free t’ take a seat in th’ garden.”
Corduroy sat obediently to the side of the flagstone path through the garden while Roan continued on inside.
“Y’ur jus’ like Flynn. Natural comedian,” Roan continued through a couple chuckles as he turned and waved for Drysi to follow. The two druids began to walk through the main hall back to the courtyard. Once outside, Drysi would feel that the early evening had become quite pleasant compared to the damp chill of the Scottish morning. The sun had since sunk below the top of Sgùrr Alasdair and now neared the horizon. While still a couple hours of daylight left, the light filtering into the Black Valley began to tinge everything a warm shade of yellow. The hustle and bustle of the courtyard had relaxed since the Keeper Training, and now the shaded alcoves were inhabited by druids from numerous circles enjoying the fresh air.
Passing through the gate and beyond the barrier of Carneath, it seemed the day simply was decidedly pleasant. The damp of the morning had gone, and the heavy mists of the day before were a distant memory. The air had lost much of its humidity, and had a crispness to it, like a spring day after a rainstorm. Crossing the short distance to the cottage Roan opened the gate leading into his small yard, and Drysi was greeted by the quaint sight of the Scotman’s garden. It surrounded a small patio with a rustic wooden table and a few chairs, and while being a good bit more modest than Ruarc’s garden still boasted a nice spread of fragrant flowers and a patch for vegetables. Beside the table was Roan’s dog, resting on a simple padded sheet. No sooner had Roan stepped past the gate then the dog woke up and hurried over to the druids, eager for pets.
“Workin’ ‘ard I see, eh Cordy?” Roan greeted the Australian Shepherd with two-handed pets, rocking the dog’s head side to side as its looked quite happy. The moment the pets stopped, the dog turned to look inquisitively at Drysi. “Good Cordy, sit until Miz Maelgwyn here agrees t’ pet ya. Drysi, this is Corduroy. Cordy for short. I’ll pop inside and get that tea rolling. Fell free t’ take a seat in th’ garden.”
Corduroy sat obediently to the side of the flagstone path through the garden while Roan continued on inside.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Nothing was quite as therapeutic as running one's fingers through the fur of a canine. Drysi was already squat in front of Corduroy, raking her fingers under his neck to feel at the softest of his fur. He was wagging his tail, she was wagging her tail, it was a good time all around. Dogs were the only kind of animal that Drysi could get along with, the only kind that hadn’t hissed or screeched at her when she was possessed.
“I have a good boy at home just like you; his name is Alva,” quipped Drysi, forgetting the harsh world behind her, filling the dog’s face in her palms, “Master Flynn thinks he’s his dog, but he’s really my dog. No one loves Alva like I do. But I love you too. I bet all tha’ girls say that to ya’. Isn’t that right? You’re precious. I bet you’re a real heart-breaker.”
Instead of taking a seat at the chair, Drysi fanned her cloak out to sit next to the dog, letting herself work her hands around all the good scratching spots on Cordy while she took in the garden. For all their rough edges, there seemed to be a love for things that grew in Keepers, at least the ones she knew. Whatever Roan or Ruarc had done in their lives, carousing or god-slaying, a person could see gentleness in the green in their home.
“How could I ever let this place wash away in flames?” the words spilled from her mouth, unconsciously recollecting the vivid picture of words in her mind, “It can’t be true. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I have a good boy at home just like you; his name is Alva,” quipped Drysi, forgetting the harsh world behind her, filling the dog’s face in her palms, “Master Flynn thinks he’s his dog, but he’s really my dog. No one loves Alva like I do. But I love you too. I bet all tha’ girls say that to ya’. Isn’t that right? You’re precious. I bet you’re a real heart-breaker.”
Instead of taking a seat at the chair, Drysi fanned her cloak out to sit next to the dog, letting herself work her hands around all the good scratching spots on Cordy while she took in the garden. For all their rough edges, there seemed to be a love for things that grew in Keepers, at least the ones she knew. Whatever Roan or Ruarc had done in their lives, carousing or god-slaying, a person could see gentleness in the green in their home.
“How could I ever let this place wash away in flames?” the words spilled from her mouth, unconsciously recollecting the vivid picture of words in her mind, “It can’t be true. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Ten minutes or so passed and Cordy had once again relaxed, taking to laying across Drysi’s lap as the dog began to doze again. A gentle breeze blew into the valley from the sea, bringing with it the smell of salt. The garden provided a serene sense of seclusion, even with the walls of Carneath and the Keeper garrison patrol less than a hundred feet away. Before too long the sound of the cottage door opening roused Cordy once more.
“Ach! Y’ur spoilin the mutt,” Roan said, but wore a broad smile as the shepherd trotted over and leaned against his leg as he sat a small tray on the table. Petting Cordy with his free hand as he sat out a couple cups, some snacks, and a couple bits of dried sausage. One of the sticks of meat Roan held up to show Cordy, and the dog immediately set into a tensed position, looking between Roan and the gate out into the valley. One moment passed, then two, and then Roan whipped the sausage down towards the edge of Loch Coruisk. Cordy was after it in an instant, racing out of the yard and after his snack. Roan watch the dog with a smile for a brief time before waving to Drysi to come have tea.
A humble kettle sat on the tray beside fairly plain tea cups. While some of the trappings were similar between Roan and Ruarc, the former seemed to not place as much thought into dolling up his home. The Keeper had taken his own seat and poured a cup of a fragrant herbal tea into his cup, and began sipping it almost immediately without giving it time to cool and without any additions; although there was some honey on the tray should Drysi want some. Seeming to remember something, he grabbed the remaining piece of sausage and sat it on the edge of the table.
“So, Miz Maelgwyn, you want t’ talk ‘bout what got’chya so rattled? Or just want t’ relax with tea?”
“Ach! Y’ur spoilin the mutt,” Roan said, but wore a broad smile as the shepherd trotted over and leaned against his leg as he sat a small tray on the table. Petting Cordy with his free hand as he sat out a couple cups, some snacks, and a couple bits of dried sausage. One of the sticks of meat Roan held up to show Cordy, and the dog immediately set into a tensed position, looking between Roan and the gate out into the valley. One moment passed, then two, and then Roan whipped the sausage down towards the edge of Loch Coruisk. Cordy was after it in an instant, racing out of the yard and after his snack. Roan watch the dog with a smile for a brief time before waving to Drysi to come have tea.
A humble kettle sat on the tray beside fairly plain tea cups. While some of the trappings were similar between Roan and Ruarc, the former seemed to not place as much thought into dolling up his home. The Keeper had taken his own seat and poured a cup of a fragrant herbal tea into his cup, and began sipping it almost immediately without giving it time to cool and without any additions; although there was some honey on the tray should Drysi want some. Seeming to remember something, he grabbed the remaining piece of sausage and sat it on the edge of the table.
“So, Miz Maelgwyn, you want t’ talk ‘bout what got’chya so rattled? Or just want t’ relax with tea?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Roan’s question came right in the middle of a healthy application of honey to Drysi’s tea-cup. She had never been tough enough to take tea straight, and so the sugar was the first thing her hands went to. It kept her from scooping up snacks, like some kind of Welsh racoon. Her hand lingered with the bottle as she considered how to answer the man’s question.
“It’s nothing,” dismissed Drysi as she took to sipping her tea, “Just your usual business. You must get these sorts of things all the time.”
Her hand played with a loose lock of her golden hair, as her nerves began to get the best of her.
”You can say as much as you are comfortable,” Gideon’s voice gave cool assurance, ”I don’t think he has any expectations.”
“I have this man that wronged me.” She issued the words slowly, carefully. The things that drove her were deep and dark, but she didn’t need everyone to know it, “I want to wrong him back, but…”
The cup was pulled close to her chest, “I’ve learned that if I keep on this path, I’ll not just lose somethin’ or somethin’s dear to me, but it might cause Carneath to burn. I can’t tell what was vivid hyperbole or genuinely a one for one depiction of my future, but… I wasn’t happy at the end of my journey. I just… I ended up losing everything, again…”
Her knees rose into her chest, with her heels hooking on the edge of her chair, “... except this time, I make everyone else lose along with me.”
“It’s nothing,” dismissed Drysi as she took to sipping her tea, “Just your usual business. You must get these sorts of things all the time.”
Her hand played with a loose lock of her golden hair, as her nerves began to get the best of her.
”You can say as much as you are comfortable,” Gideon’s voice gave cool assurance, ”I don’t think he has any expectations.”
“I have this man that wronged me.” She issued the words slowly, carefully. The things that drove her were deep and dark, but she didn’t need everyone to know it, “I want to wrong him back, but…”
The cup was pulled close to her chest, “I’ve learned that if I keep on this path, I’ll not just lose somethin’ or somethin’s dear to me, but it might cause Carneath to burn. I can’t tell what was vivid hyperbole or genuinely a one for one depiction of my future, but… I wasn’t happy at the end of my journey. I just… I ended up losing everything, again…”
Her knees rose into her chest, with her heels hooking on the edge of her chair, “... except this time, I make everyone else lose along with me.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Aaah, been chatting wi’ forune tellers, aye?” Roan asked the plain question as he took another sip. He wasn’t expecting an answer to the obvious, but his silence was more due to him considering the issue Drysi was facing. “Don’ s’pose this man in question is Alexei, is it? Given context an’ your proximity to Flynn, its an educated guess. If it helps any, your master has talked with me about similar concerns revolving around the man. So Ah’m gonna touch on this piece by piece.”
He sipped his tea again and looked up towards the sky.
“Some men can’t be wronged; men like Alexei. Individuals so singularly focused that they are numb to whatever comes his way. Folk that have more in common with a feral animal than fellow man. Flynn’s not gonna be talking Alexei into joining him f’r tea. As f’r your fortune, that’s a tricky subject that Ah’m not ‘xactly versed in, heck, I avoid getting mine; ruins the surprise. But here goes: fate’s a tricky galla, but visions from a skilled seer can be both fluid and concrete; dependin’ on how ya approach it. Carneath burning I’d take a couple of different ways, ranging from changes in our status quo, druids falling in the line of duty, or even just your perception of the druids changing. Now, after all of that, even though you weren’t happy at the end of your endeavor, you were still there. You survived the storm. The wildfire passed. Take another lesson from Flynn. He has survived his own storms, and after many of them has not come away happy; sometimes even broken. But, as long as you are alive, there is always a chance to rebuild. Come back stronger. After even the fiercest of wildfires, forests of brilliant green follow after.”
Another sip of tea.
“Plus iffen y’r still around, it means ya pro’lly socked whatever it was in the throat.”
He sipped his tea again and looked up towards the sky.
“Some men can’t be wronged; men like Alexei. Individuals so singularly focused that they are numb to whatever comes his way. Folk that have more in common with a feral animal than fellow man. Flynn’s not gonna be talking Alexei into joining him f’r tea. As f’r your fortune, that’s a tricky subject that Ah’m not ‘xactly versed in, heck, I avoid getting mine; ruins the surprise. But here goes: fate’s a tricky galla, but visions from a skilled seer can be both fluid and concrete; dependin’ on how ya approach it. Carneath burning I’d take a couple of different ways, ranging from changes in our status quo, druids falling in the line of duty, or even just your perception of the druids changing. Now, after all of that, even though you weren’t happy at the end of your endeavor, you were still there. You survived the storm. The wildfire passed. Take another lesson from Flynn. He has survived his own storms, and after many of them has not come away happy; sometimes even broken. But, as long as you are alive, there is always a chance to rebuild. Come back stronger. After even the fiercest of wildfires, forests of brilliant green follow after.”
Another sip of tea.
“Plus iffen y’r still around, it means ya pro’lly socked whatever it was in the throat.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“I was still around,” realized the apprentice, setting her cup on the table, “but there wasn’ anyone else.”
Setting her hands on her knees, she clenched her fists, staring hard at the charming Roan.
“Leave the villains to the Keepers,” she repeated, a phrase that had been a turning point in her life, “Master Flynn said that to me once, telling me that the future he was making for me meant I couldn’t be in harm's way. From whatever I’ve seen, he’s only ever known a life in harm's way. He could’ve established an office; devoted himself to establishin’ the Order in Japan, but instead… He made a school. A school of rejects. Rejects like me.”
Drysi’s tensed up her face as she fought off a swelling wave of emotion, and grit her sharp teeth, “So be it. I told him. Who wants to be a bloody fookin’ Keeper, I said. Not me. I was going to make a fookin difference. I was going to make the future, and he was going to have t’fookin’ live in it. You were goin’ to have to live in it. I was going to be Drysi Maelgwyn, the Crafter of Weapons. I wasn’t going to kill the Wolf, I was going to make the thing that did it. And… for once, I would make a future where Master Flynn; all of you; aren’t just another Niall. Not just another story I’m going to tell my apprentice before she does tha’ same for me one day.”
Pat. A tear pittered upon the table, “In the future that was read for me; I did it. I must have. I needed to destroy him. But–... But the future wasn’ any different… It was just me weeping over the loss. Me alone. Like a vicious, fookin’ cycle.”
At this point her hands couldn’t keep up with weeping, “That son-of-a-bitch may as well be dead, but he’s still won; takin’ what happiness he can screamin’ down t’hell where he belongs. It’s not fookin’ fair. Why can’t he just have the decency to just. Die.”
Setting her hands on her knees, she clenched her fists, staring hard at the charming Roan.
“Leave the villains to the Keepers,” she repeated, a phrase that had been a turning point in her life, “Master Flynn said that to me once, telling me that the future he was making for me meant I couldn’t be in harm's way. From whatever I’ve seen, he’s only ever known a life in harm's way. He could’ve established an office; devoted himself to establishin’ the Order in Japan, but instead… He made a school. A school of rejects. Rejects like me.”
Drysi’s tensed up her face as she fought off a swelling wave of emotion, and grit her sharp teeth, “So be it. I told him. Who wants to be a bloody fookin’ Keeper, I said. Not me. I was going to make a fookin difference. I was going to make the future, and he was going to have t’fookin’ live in it. You were goin’ to have to live in it. I was going to be Drysi Maelgwyn, the Crafter of Weapons. I wasn’t going to kill the Wolf, I was going to make the thing that did it. And… for once, I would make a future where Master Flynn; all of you; aren’t just another Niall. Not just another story I’m going to tell my apprentice before she does tha’ same for me one day.”
Pat. A tear pittered upon the table, “In the future that was read for me; I did it. I must have. I needed to destroy him. But–... But the future wasn’ any different… It was just me weeping over the loss. Me alone. Like a vicious, fookin’ cycle.”
At this point her hands couldn’t keep up with weeping, “That son-of-a-bitch may as well be dead, but he’s still won; takin’ what happiness he can screamin’ down t’hell where he belongs. It’s not fookin’ fair. Why can’t he just have the decency to just. Die.”