Cover The Road (Faerydae)

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Her feet were aching and she was cold. No, scratch that, not only her feet were aching, it was a pain that stretched from her tormented soles up her calves until it almost reached her hips. It was burning and aching at the same time. Yassia had always thought herself in good shape, but after one week of constantly being on her feet she had been thoroughly thought a lesson she most likely was never to forget. She simply was not used to be walking for so long, but there was no way she could help that. The horrifying storm that had hit their boat while crossing the channel had robbed Yassia of three most important things: Her horse, a decent amount of money (one that could help her out right now with getting her a new mount, even a mule would do!) and above all: Mircea!
Yassia had never thought anyone could ever feel so lost in his entire life, and the most part of her misery was due to the fact that her mind slowly had to work around the possibility that her half-brother was dead. Dead or washed ashore somewhere far from where she was, unable to find her.

The very thought of him once again brought tears to her eyes and she hunched her shoulders against the cold wind, glad to have at least her woollen cloak with her. This and her bag full of herbs and done remedies were her most precious belongings now. Nothing was left of Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha, the proud princess and queen-to-be. She had reached the bottom of the line and she was very well aware of that fact. With that little money she had left in her soaked purse and with such a great amount of way still before her, with no idea where exactly to turn, she was a pauper now and had to call herself lucky if she even reached Camelot unscathed. Before crossing the channel, being followed by her uncle’s goons and taken back by force had been her worst fear. Now that almost seemed like a good way to end it all, in her darkest hours.
Whenever she wanted to give up, she imagined talking to Mircea, as if he was still beside her. She told him of her sorrows and imagined to hear his voice, telling her in his calm and serious tone that she could not give up, that she was strong, that he knew she could make it. But that hurt so much, too, so she never could do it for long.

It was afternoon now and still Yassia dragged herself onward. As far as she could see, no village was near, and she hoped she would at least reach one by nightfall. The little coins she had left would suffice for a bed and some stew and that was all she needed. Interesting how basic your needs could become if you had to learn to survive by them. This, Yassia was sure, would be a lesson she’d never forget – ever assumed she lived to really learn from it.
A sole erratic on the side of the road was just too much of a temptation. Yassia limbed towards it and lowered herself on it with a heavy sigh. Maybe in a few minutes time, she would find the strength to get up again…

[Faerydae Moriarty]

Not all who wander are lost. That was what many great people before her had said, although, sometimes, she did ponder if the subjects of that quote of wisdom did know where they were going. It seemed to be a lot to put one’s trust into fate, or that something will just come by a happen of chance. Although, taking chances with people had never been her specialty, mistrust was often the first to come. The sun had set itself heavy in the sky as afternoon fell upon them and they walked along the road in silence, side by side, beast and maiden. She had never been one for riding him unless it was to move faster or to get out of harm’s way. This reason being, well, at times, the young maiden found herself uncertain of whether she did own the white horse, and even if she did, she found it hard to see it that way. Horses were of wild and free spirits, and in many ways, she thought that they all were wild, and they simply chose to allow their humans to borrow them.

Silver certain did. He would take no bridle or big, he’d kick out at the thought of a saddle. He guided himself without any of her help whenever she was on him, and to stay on, she needed to have strong legs and have a steady grasp of his knotted mane. It was a blessing to be allowed to sit upon the great horse’s back for he had been of wild descent, and by his looks, had sought no human interaction before her. He stumbled upon her in the woods, saved her life when everybody else would have taken it, for she was Faerydae Moriarty, exiled Queen of Balor. This horse besides her provided her that missing piece to her broken heart, and while the animal could not fully replace her lover, her son, he was very close to it. She was not one for human companions any more, with all the betrayals and violence that the human race had shown her, Faerydae chose to keep herself away, only venturing towards humans when she needed to trade. Wild horses were her people now.

The road was a windy pathway. It twisted and turned like a snake slithering through the woods. She was not sure why they were still on the roads; they were never a safe place, especially for a single woman and her horse. Ice blue eyes glanced towards the horse for a moment as he walked, his eyes alert and his ears twitching about as a great snort escaped him. A smile crossed her features as she allowed her hand to graze over his shoulder blade, his fur soft to the touch. The moment that the horse felt her touch, he stopped in his walk and swung his head so his muzzle stayed close to her cheek and he blew hot air towards her before nuzzling her neck. Faerydae felt herself smile as she wrapped her arms around his head for a moment, leaning against it and closing her eyes to feel the comfort of his touch before she blew hot air back. Silver merely snorted now before he started to walk again and she soon followed suit as well.

Her eyes gazed towards the sky, it was cloudless and pure blue, with only the sun to beat down on them and light the way until it switched its place with its sister, the moon. The later it got though, the more they would be in trouble to find camp, “Perhaps we should stop soon,” she mused to herself out loud, knowing that the white horse would be listening to her, but he barely made a sound. Something else seemed to have caught his attention now and Silver came to a stop, staring off at something on the side of the road. Ice blue eyes followed his dark amber gaze as it moved across the road and saw what Silver was staring at: a woman. She was young, like herself, but Faerydae was certain that she was still older than this girl. Although, that wasn’t the most noticeable thing about this girl, it was actually the color of her skin. It was certainly nothing that she had seen in all of Albion before, this girl was clearly foreign. A gentle breeze picked up now, blowing her white blond hair and she simply brushed it aside as she thought about her situation for a moment before calling out, “You should not be on the road by yourself!”

Although, she and Silver did not move towards the girl. They kept their distance and stood still as statues, watching her and waiting for the girl’s move.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

The pain of her feet and the exhaustion in general were a very tempting background to lull herself into some kind of trance, at least for a moment. And so Yassia thought she had really fallen asleep for a little when she heard the soft thudding of hooves on the dusty road and looked up to see who was approaching. This… ethereal being, hair so fair it was almost white sitting on an equally fair horse, both in a motion so graceful that it just couldn’t be from this world – it had to be a figment of her exhausted imagination, the dream of a fairy, a caring being that would help her through her misery. She couldn’t be awake, this could not be really happening…

And yet it seemed to be just that. Real. Yassia was still miserable, tired and hurting, and in a dream you never felt pain. But if this woman, who didn’t look older than fifteen due to her miniscule build, wasn’t a fada from the Otherworld, who was she? Yassia’s mother had told her many stories when she was a little girl, about Albion and Camelot especially, where the lines between the Fairy World, Avalon, and the world of the mortal beings were never as strictly drawn as elsewhere. She had sometimes sung a song to her before bedtime, about a Camelotian Knight who rode out in the night and met a fairy, and instantly both fell in love with each other… How peculiar that just by seeing this woman the long since forgotten words of the song were drawn back to the surface…
“A magical fairy was looking at him, through starry eyes of a beautiful green, he fell in love like never before… despite the rules they still met every night, he took the horse and she crossed the line… a secret love always hidden behind, building their world with the beats of their hearts…”

But of course such times seemed long since gone, with all magic banished from Camelot, and just by being here, worn out and hurting as she was, Yassia didn’t find it hard to believe that magical times were irrevocably over. And still, there was this mysterious woman who now even addressed Yassia with a melodious voice. “You should not be on the road by yourself!”
She didn’t approach, only sat there on her beautiful horse, probably waiting for Yassia to give a reaction first. With a twinge of bad conscience and awkwardness Yassia realized she must have been staring at this vision for quite some time now, and she angrily kicked her mind back into working gear. “I know I shouldn’t”, she called back and gave a weary shrug and a smile. “Alas I was given no choice as of late. And anyway”, she brushed back a streak of hair the wind kept blowing into her face, “you know, I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?”

Alright, this woman had a horse, but she didn’t look like she did belong on this road either, though Yassia had no clue where exactly she would place her other than in stories and songs. If she couldn’t get due rest and better feet to walk on, at least life had chosen to provide her with ample entertainment.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

They still remained still as they stared at the woman now. It seemed very odd to them. Usually, people did not want it to look like they were staring, and often glanced away and of course, that was just not with Faerydae, but with anybody really. Although, this girl was quite different, instead, she kept on staring directly at them without even glancing away. A dreamy look could be seen in her eye from what the maiden could see and it suddenly occurred to her that something might already be off, “Silver, are there any others around?” She asked the white horse now and her eyes glanced around for a moment. But the white horse did not move, he simply snorted. If he was not fidgeting or pressing his ears back against his skull, there was no threat to them at all. With that being the case though, she simply just could not figure out this odd scene that was playing before her at the moment then.

Beneath her, Silver inhaled slightly in the air around them, picking up on the girl’s scent. It was off odd smells that he had never had the pleasure of picking up before, for they were clearly not related to Albion. The only one that the white horse did recognize now though was the faint smell of the sea salt, meaning that she had come about from a far away land. After a moment though, without any command, he took a step forward towards the girl now, outstretching his powerful neck as if to get a closer inspection of her without having to walk right over her.

His movement startled his companion for two seconds, and she felt her legs tighten up around his sides and she soon intertwined her fingers into his knotted mane even more. But, it all seemed in vain for nothing had happened. It did not take her long to realize that Silver simply had wanted to take a closer look at the girl. Her eyes ran over the dark haired girl’s long slender legs, and she found herself certain now that if they were to stand side by side together without the aid of any horses, Faerydae would look like a simple child compared to this girl. By now though, it seemed that her words had finally interrupted this girl’s thoughts, as if she were snapping out of a trance, “I know I shouldn’t!” she called back. Her ice blue eyes widen slightly, her accent was unheard of. At least, by Faerydae it was, not even when she had been Queen of Balor had she heard such an accent. There was no doubt in her mind now that the girl was clearly a foreigner and not native to Albion.

No wonder she sits on the side of the road lounging about, perhaps she does not know any different. Even though the girl said that she should, Faerydae could not be quite certain. It was hardly safe enough for a young woman to be traveling alone with a horse, without one would surely be suicide. The fair haired maiden watched now as a weary and tired smile cracked across the other’s features now, “Alas, I was given no choice as of late. And anyway, you know, I could say the same to you!” A frown rested on her lips now, she was not accustomed to being countered like that, well, truth be told, she was hardly accustomed to humans now at all for this had been her first interaction with another in a long time. She probably thought that she didn’t belong on the roads, although, neither could that girl. Men would pick her up in a heartbeat for her exotic beauty, “I can still run,” she replied now, “And I can warn you of this now, the men who walk the roads of Albion are not kind to beautiful women.”

Now, Faerydae freed herself. Slowly, her hands and fingers unwound themselves from Silver’s mane and she threw her right leg over his neck before allowing herself to slide right off his back and side. Hitting the ground lightly, she dared to walk across the road now to inspect the girl a little more and the white horse followed her lazily to make sure that no trouble arose. While there probably was nothing to fear of a young woman, Faerydae still felt herself stopping short of five feet as she peered at the girl with her ice blue gaze, “Where is your party?” she inquired now. After all, it was very strange indeed for a girl to be on their own.