autumnslance:Febhyurary 27: Memory(Now on Ao3)As was her wont when there was too much time, Aeryn pi
autumnslance:Febhyurary 27: Memory(Now on Ao3)As was her wont when there was too much time, Aeryn picked up a simple job for the adventurers’ guild, just running some supplies to a small outpost near Griffin’s Crossing. It meant trekking across the southern hills that separated Coerthas from the Twelveswood, weaving through the frosted forest, which should have been simple enough. However, the route was unfamiliar, and she found herself somewhat off track, thoughts turning to finding shelter to wait out the windy night as snow kicked up and obscured her vision. There was the shadow of what might be a house a few yalms ahead in the dim light, and she stumbled toward it.As she got closer, Aeryn saw the structure was naught more than a ruin, only a partial wall and stairs remaining. Disappointing, but she caught site of the distant glow of the camp’s signal fire through the trees beyond it; she hadn’t been so far off course after all.Rising hairs on the back of her neck made her pause, but there were no strange sounds, no sense of danger. Just an odd tickle in her mind, a sensation of near-recognition though she was certain she had not been this way before. Glancing around, lumps in the snow indicated more ruins, and a rime-covered spire that might have belonged to a country church blended in with the trees.The settlement had obviously suffered, both from the Dragonsong War and the Seventh Umbral Calamity, its remaining inhabitants finding elsewhere to live. Sad, but not unusual for Coerthas these days. Somewhere under the snow there might be records of the people who had once called this place home, but that was for others to discover; she had a job to do and desperately wanted the warmth of that fire.Aeryn didn’t realize that her feet knew the old paths, avoiding the broken down fences and walls to leave the town behind, trudging back to the main road toward the camp, where a hot meal and a cozy bed waited for her.She dreamed of her childhood that night; her brother’s boyish whooping, her birth father’s laughter, her mother’s singing. The church bell chimed the hours, their melody echoing in her ears even after she woke, uncertain where her melancholy came from. -- source link
#autumnslance