No One Else to Turn To

The day after Tristan returns to Forsetidale, Vesta finds herself walking the road to Kog’Thrak with more urgency than she means to show. Her steps are quick, arms folded tight against herself. Her hair has been hastily twisted into a messy bun, loose curls falling free. Dark circles shadow her eyes, faintly puffy from a night that offered little rest. 

When the village comes into view, she slows. 

She stops just outside the entrance, hesitating. After a moment, she turns and takes several steps back the way she came, only to halt, jaw tightening. With a frustrated breath, she pivots again. Forward. Back. Forward once more. The indecision plays out in small, restless movements before she finally steels herself and steps inside. 

She approaches a guard and asks, as evenly as she can manage, where she might find Storm. Given a direction, she nods and moves on. 

As she walks through the village, she keeps her gaze forward and to herself, ignoring any looks that may follow her.

As Vesta travels through the village, she sees orcs of various heights, sizes, and ages all working or playing.

There are orc children playing some sort of game with pinecones, chasing one another around the village which has them cross Vesta's path by nearly colliding with the Ramtovi. They snicker, wave, and then rush off to continue their game. A young female orc is flailing an arm and chasing after them, screaming something in orcish at the children. She appears frustrated, not aggressive, as she chases them.

The adults of the village watch Vesta as she enters and as she passes but they offer only curious glances, nothing more. Some of them give her distracted smiles while others just glimpse her and return to their work. 

Vesta hears Storm before she sees the Draconian.

"Not right there! Not right there! Oh shit." Then there is the sound of something large collapsing. 

As Vesta turns the corner, she sees Storm and a couple of other orcs. They are waving hands in front of their faces to clear away the dust kicked into the air by the debris piled in front of them. The debris appears to be a small hut, partially built. The walls stand anyways. The roof has capsized into the walls surrounding it. 

Storm sighs and plants her hands on her hips, shaking her head while her lion tail swishes behind her in quick strokes and her wings flutter restlessly. "It's okay. We'll just try again. Maybe with something a little lighter this time."

The two orcs with her nod and walk through the gaping archway in the wall. They get to work gathering the pieces that fell inside.

Storm sniffs and sneezes, quite a dainty sneeze for someone like Storm. Then she turns her head as Vesta turns the corner. 

"I'd know you anywhere smelling like that. Always like... Incense and tea." Storm chuckles and waves the last of the dust from her face. "What are you doing here? This place doesn't exactly scream.... Vesta." Then Storm takes in her appearance. "What's wrong?"

Nill is crouched a few feet away from Storm, rolling a small black die across the dirt with careful concentration. She glances up as Vesta approaches, before dropping her gaze back to the die, uninterested. 

When Storm asks what’s wrong, Vesta bursts into tears. They start flowing down her cheeks, and she drags the heel of her hands across her face, visibly irritated with herself at being unable to keep it together.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry,” she rushes out, voice wavering. “I’m trying not to be so… dramatic, I just-”  

She hiccups. 

“I just don’t have anyone else to talk to. Tristan got taken to Forsetidale by the knights, and I can’t get into the manor to see Edgar, and I obviously can’t talk to Jade right now, and I was up crying all night and I just can’t-”

The sentence collapses under another wave of tears. Her shoulders hitch as she struggles to steady her breathing.

Nill looks up again. Her expression stays flat, but her wings give an awkward, unsettled twitch.

“I… will go do the helping of Cassia,” she announces quietly.

Without waiting for a response, the pixie gathers her die and scampers off, disappearing around the nearest structure. 

Vesta shakes her head quickly, as though embarrassed to have caused a scene.

“I just… I thought maybe I could talk to you,” she says, her voice smaller now. “But if you don’t want to deal with me, I can just go back-”  

Her words falter. 

“I-I’ll be okay by myself. I just…”

Her arms fold tightly around her torso, shoulders trembling as she stares stubbornly at the ground, unable to meet Storm’s eyes.

Storm flinches back when Vesta bursts into tears and her wings flutter. She looks away awkwardly until Vesta starts explaining.

Storm stares at Vesta who is staring down and then she chuckles. "Oh man. You must be in a real bind to come to me."

She sighs and looks around. Then she half turns and waves to Vesta. 

"Come with me." She turns to begin walking, grabbing her crackling glaive from its place against a nearby wall. 

She walks through the village, greeting those she passes by name and smiling at them while they exchange quick pleasantries. She leads Vesta all the way to the edge of the village and past the wall. Never once looking back to see if Vesta is following, she leads them up to the forest and in. 

There is a clearly well traveled path winding through the trees. It is wide enough for one person to pass through. Storm ducks under branches occasionally but the branches are above Vesta's head with no need for her to duck. They walk for several minutes until they come to a very small clearing. 

The clearing is a small circle of flattened earth that has a large flat rock in the center and nothing else. All around the space, the trees lean slightly, providing plenty of shelter while leaving a gap in the bare branches to see the open sky. 

Storm steps aside and gestures to the rock. "Have a seat."

She finds a tree to lean against with her glaive resting nearby within reach. She crosses her legs at the ankle and folds her arms across her chest then watches Vesta. Her tail flicks slowly behind her while her colorful wings are folded against her back.

Vesta follows Storm with uneven steps, her breath hitching, small broken sounds escaping her no matter how hard she tries to swallow them down.

When Storm tells her to sit, she collapses onto the rock, skirts spilling over the stone. She draws her knees to her chest and tries to steady her breathing, but it only comes in sharp, shaking pulls.

“I-I’m sorry if I’m bothering you,” she blurts through tears. “I know this is ridiculous. I know I’m not exactly… likable. I know I can be a bitch, and dramatic, and if you think I’m insufferable and pathetic I really don’t blame you. If you never want to speak to me again after this because this is embarrassing, that’s fine, I just-”

Her voice cracks.

She folds in on herself, burying her face in her hands as a sob tears out of her chest. It’s ugly and unrestrained. She drags her palms down her face, then slaps her own cheeks lightly as if she can shock herself back into composure.

“Normally I’d just talk to Tristan,” she says. “But yesterday the Forsetidale Knights showed up and said he had to come back with them. They had their swords drawn and everything-”

Her breathing quickens.

“And I know it’s because of me. After what happened with Jade, I got drunk and upset and tried to leave Volaire in the middle of the night when it was freezing, and if Tristan hadn’t come after me I would have died. And it’s not the first time I’ve almost…” 

She trails off. 

“So I know I scared him, and he stayed by my side. He’s been missing classes. There’s rumors going around, and now all the nobles are furious, and Charlotte’s putting out the fires. He had to go back. He said not to worry, but how am I not supposed to worry when it’s my fault?”

The words tumble faster and faster, barely separated by breath.

“And I can’t even scry to see what’s happening, because if I look and something’s wrong, I won’t be able to fix it. I’ll just spiral. And I can’t handle that right now because I’m just-”

She scrubs at her face again, eyes red and glassy.

“I can’t talk to Edgar. I can’t talk to Zinna, or Zuigrii, or E’ni’cala, because I can’t bear looking like a fool in front of them.”

Her laugh is brittle, collapsing immediately into another sob.

“And I can’t talk to my best friend because I fucked that up too. I yelled at Jade in front of her barony. I knew we were walking into a death trap and I panicked. It turned into a screaming match. She pulled her rank on me, so I left. Kalil told me she could have me killed for it, and I know that.”

Her hands curl into fists in her skirts.

“Every time I think about apologizing to her, all I see is death. All I can think about is the time she did actually kill me, and I’m scared to go through that again. She’s my best friend. I love her.” Her voice thins. “And I’m scared of her…”

Her shoulders shake harder.

“It’s so stupid! She apologized to me. I doubt she would actually hurt me. And I still can’t make things right. I’m just a coward.”

She presses her fists to her eyes.

“Jade would do nearly anything for me and I can’t do this for her.”

Her voice cracks completely.

“What is wrong with me? I ruin everything. My clan calls me a curse and maybe they’re right.” She says hollowly. “Everywhere I go, I just fuck things up.”

The words spill out without restraint now.

“I wasn’t even supposed to live this long. I was supposed to burn out. And now I’m engaged, and I have people I actually care about, and I can’t even be there for them because I’m selfish and stupid and weak.”

She chokes on the last word.

“I’m drowning in all this guilt.”

She drags in a shaky breath.

“And now I sound like some self-loathing pity party and you’re probably regretting not just turning me away, and I can’t even leave because I don’t want to be by myself-”

Her voice breaks again, sharp and painful.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers hoarsely. “I should be pulling myself together instead of just crying about this shit. I’m sorry.”

Storm listens with a neutral expression on her face, continuing to lean with arms and ankles crossed. She remains quiet the entire time Vesta speaks, her tail slowly swaying behind her. 

Storm waits patiently for Vesta to finish. 

When she’s sure Vesta is at least pausing to breathe, she clears her throat.

”So… I’m not sure I’m really the best person to turn to cuz I’m not very good with… Feelings? So. Hope I don’t. Make things worse.” She sucks in a breath. You do need to get it together. You don’t know what’s happening with Tristan. You don’t know it’s your fault. And you’re absolutely right. You shouldn’t look. Don’t those visions hurt you? Besides, whatever is happening is totally out of your hands. You aren’t some hoity toity noble. He is.”

Her tail flicks. Whatever happens is between the nobles. Us commoners…? We don’t get a say in their business. No matter how important we think we are to them.”

She sighs. ”And you absolutely should go apologize to your friend. If she wanted you dead, you’d be dead. You said so yourself. She killed you once right? I don’t know if she did it to make a point or what that has you so scared of her but obviously, she can kill you if she wanted and she hasn’t.”

Storm takes a breath. ”You aren’t pathetic. You’re human. It’s just human emotion that builds up and needs a release. Kinda like my rage. I’m pretty level headed most of the time but sometimes, I’ve gotta let it out.”

“So, yeah. Cry it out. Then get it together. Go talk to your friend. If she really is your friend, maybe she can help lover boy. Or at least find out what’s going on for you.” Storm leans forward a little and wiggles her shoulders, stretching the wings on her back before folding them again and leaning back once more. ”That’s really all I got. I think.”

  [/color]