On the Way to a New Life (Freya)

[Caitrin de Archer]

Caitrin de Archer was not an incredibly happy person at present. Her riding cloak, which was deep purple and covered most of her horse, flapped around her eyes, hiding the hate in them for the party which was currently escorting her to her new home. Caitrin was sixteen but had already been betrothed once, but as her betrothed had promptly died she was being sent to her Uncle’s home in the lands of Camelot until her father could decide what to do for her; at least that was the gist she had got from her father. They had been riding hard all morning and for most of the afternoon and Caitrin was tired; she hadn’t been sleeping well. She hadn’t bid her family goodbye as she’d rode out of her old home because she was so angry at them all. Not only had they tried, in haste, to marry her off to a complete stranger, now she was being sent to live with a relative she had only met once. There was also the issue of Camelot on the whole; Caitrin had heard stories of the hate of magic felt by the kingdom of Camelot; she’d heard of many people being put to death by King Uther and it terrified her. Caitrin did not know much magic, she only knew a few spells her nanny Helgund had taught her when she was a little girl. Even so, from what she’d heard people had been put to death for showing even the slightest bit of magic. Of course none of her family knew the gifts which Caitrin possessed; she had kept them well hidden which had been under Helgund’s direct instructions.

“Lady Caitrin, we are to make camp here for the night.” Her fathers steward called out to her, Caitrin glared at him from under her hood and didn’t reply. He was used to it by now so he held up his hand for everyone to halt with him. A boy grabbed the reigns of Caitrin’s horse, tying them around a tree and extending a hand to help her down. She looked at the hand and ignored it, helping herself off the horse and sweeping past him; unhitching her riding cloak. She handed it to him without a word of thanks and looked around her where preparations were already being made for dinner and for sleeping arrangements. Obviously no expense had been spared by her father, they couldn’t even go to an inn, no they had to make camp in the middle of nowhere and be content with that.

“How far away from Camelot are we?” She asked quickly and someone shouted back, “Only a half days ride away my Lady; not far.” Everyone was now used to Caitrin’s mood and did well to keep out of her way whenever they could. Caitrin didn’t mean to be unkind to them, but she was annoyed with her family and she couldn’t help but be in a constant bad mood. She went and sat herself, ignoring the hustle and bustle of servants around her. There were no other womenfolk to keep her company as her father had decided to be incredibly practical and only send as many people as needs be. It was glad to know she was held in such loving tender care with Sir Payton.
She watched the people with a lack of interest; she’d seen this twice before and every time they did it, it brought her closer to her destiny in Camelot. She got up, tired of these silly men and wandered off by herself, content with her own company. She kept looking back, checking no one was following her, they were used to her wandering off as well. She’d never threatened to run off altogether so they had no reason to be worried by her absence.

Caitrin walked for a while until she found a stable patch of ground and set herself down again, folding her legs and concentrating hard in front of her. Her magic made her feel special in a way, but it was also a way for Caitrin to settle herself and keep her cool. She wondered for a few moments if it would be as easy to keep her temper in Camelot as it was in Mercia as she would have the added stress of worrying she would be caught practising magic.

She collected some dust and twigs in front of her and concentrated hard, just as Helgund had always taught her, and whispered, “Ignius.” She opened her eyes and nothing had happened. She sighed but decided to try again; she was out of practice and she knew it “Ignius.” She said with more force, keeping her eyes on the mound in front of her and it suddenly lit up into a gentle crackling fire. She grinned, moving her hand away from her fire and was content with her power.

Timeline: A year before the series begins
Location: In the Mercian forests, half a days ride from Camelot
Tags: Freya
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[sissy]

It was a domino affect from what Freya could tell. One mistake on her part had caused the rest of her world to crumble around her in a matter of days. One could hardly recognize the once bright and happy druid girl that now traversed the forest alone and afraid. Her arms wrapped around her thin frame to warm herself as the sun set over the horizon and evening approached. She was so tired and couldn’t understand why all this was happening to her. It played over in her head again and again, the cause of her current sorrows. A death at her own hand. It had been an accident. She hadn’t meant to kill him but she had been so frightened and she was sure that he was going to kill her if she hadn’t done something. The spell had misfired and what had been an attempt to knock him out had caused his death instead. Never had Freya killed before, especially not using magic and it shook her a great deal. But that trauma was nothing compared to the punishment she had been given for her crime.

While Freya knew not whether her attacker had magic, she later found out that his mother, who had loved her son deeply, had magic and wasn’t afraid to use it for revenge. She didn’t know how the old woman had known that it was Freya who had caused his death because Freya didn’t remember seeing anyone there after it had happened but regardless of how, the old woman had known and felt that his death was wrong and that Freya had had no right to defend herself. It was a biased view of course, of course the woman would overlook the fact that her son had attacked Freya. He was her son after all but there was no forgiveness for his killer regardless of the circumstances. She had decided to make her pay and pay she did.

A bastet. Freya had never even heard of such a thing but the night that she became one, she found out just how terrible the creature was. Its blood lust was something she had never felt before in her life and the feeling that she couldn’t control it made it all the worse. Her first night as a bastet had happened two nights ago and Freya had begged the druids for their help in taking away the curse but it was powerful magic and they could not. The second night Freya had killed one of the druids, she hadn’t meant to but she couldn’t stop herself. The young boy’s death had been a tragedy and the fact that it was known that Freya would change each night and kill without being able to stop herself meant that despite it going against what the druids believed in, they had to turn Freya away. It was the hardest thing in the world for Freya to walk away from the home she had known for so long, leaving behind what she had considered to be her family and go out on her own with the knowledge that she was nothing more than a monster now.

She now wandered around alone and cold, dreading the night that approached because she knew what it meant for her. Thankfully she had put distance between herself and the druids so that they would hopefully be safe from the bastet’s thirst for blood. She just had to hope that tonight the bastet would go hungry. Resting against one of the trees, Freya took a breath. Brushing her hair back from her face, the poor druid girl began to cry. Cursed to kill forever now. That was what the woman had said and so far it seemed true enough. How long would she be able to endure this? Maybe she could find someone to help her. The druids hadn’t been able to do it but surely there were others that could. Others that would take pity on Freya. She had to hope that it was true because she wouldn’t last long without any hope.

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Tags; Caitrin
Word Count; 681
Lyrics; Shattered by Trading Yesterday
Time-frame; Evening – A year before the series begins

[Caitrin de Archer]

It was hard to remain so angry during such glorious weather. At least through Caitrin’s walk she could perhaps forget why she was here in the first place. It wasn’t that she hated her Uncle particularly it was the fact she had essentially been taken from her home and sent away to a land she had never ever visited before. She wondered about the people in Camelot, were they really as against magic as she had heard? Her mother used to tell her that she shouldn’t listen to such rumours and she should make her own mind and opinions, and not be swayed by others. True, Caitrin made her own mind about most things, but on the topic of the Camelotians view towards magic, she had little to go on and therefore could only hope they were not as prejudiced as many made out. She had been told by Helgund on many occasions that Camelot was no friend to magic and to therefore never reveal her gifts to anyone.

Tired of the fire crackling in front of her, Caitrin whispered, “Aquas.” Her eyes glinted and water promptly extinguished the flames in front of her. Caitrin was proud of her talent, albeit her only knowing one other spell. It made her feel special and that was all that was important to her.

She was now feeling a lot happier in herself, Helgund had been right all those years ago to tell her that using magic would help her control her anger. She was certainly feeling a lot more calm and in tune with her emotions. She breathed out slowly, thinking that perhaps this move to Camelot may not be such a bad thing. She had been wanting more freedom for her family for years. She hadn’t ever remembered being as angry as when her father had told her of her betrothal. Now Caitrin had been given a new lease of life, she could go to Camelot and perhaps start afresh. She might even enjoy it there; seeing as she was destined to spend the rest of her single life there she certainly hoped she would enjoy her time there.

Caitrin ran a hand through her hair, wondering if she would have any more luck than she had in Mercia with men. Her father had a fearsome reputation in war and so many families shyed away from allying themselves with her family for fear of his ambitions. It hadn’t bothered Caitrin, she had never been in love, she wasn’t even sure she believed in love. However, her sisters had told her of love and what it did to a woman, how it could enchant the senses and make you feel happier than you ever had in your life. Caitrin thought the whole thing read rather like a fairy story, and unless she was ever in love she would never believe such a thing existed and that was the end of that.

Caitrin raised her head lazily as she heard movement behind her. She supposed it was one of her fathers men, come to see if she was unharmed and politely escourt her back to her camp. She sighed, getting up and dusting down her dress. However, she could not see anyone in the clearing. Confused she suddenly became very worried, what if a mugger or someone had stumbled upon her? Becoming very defensive Caitrin’s ears pricked up and she listened for any sound which did not fit in the woodland context. She could hear an odd noise that almost sounded like crying. She stepped quietly and softly towards the noise and as it became louder she became aware that it was sobbing. Caitrin could see a small girl huddled and intent on crying. Caitrin got to her knees, keeping her distance with the girl in case she was spooked by Caitrin’s sudden presence.

“Are you ok?” She asked softly, leaning towards the girl in a friendly way and smiling at her, “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” She promised, she wasn’t sure how this girl would take her. From the look of her she’d been running for some time, and Caitrin didn’t want to scare her anymore than she suspected she already was.