Post by Jammi on Jan 27, 2011 14:41:21 GMT -5
It had been months since Antera had seen another rider. Not since the day Lord K’ain’s death. She had fled that day, terrified of the events happening around her. Minth, bless her simple world, hadn’t questioned the actions of her rider. The newcomers had scared the green more than they did her rider. Why had these people come to their home? What had they ever done to these strangers? Why were the killing dragons? Over and over the questions came as the pair escaped. Even as old as Minth was there were days that she seemed no older than the day Antera had Impressed to her. The poor confused green didn’t understand why people and dragons couldn't’t get along.
The first few weeks away from their former home were full of close calls and troubles. Antera had all but given up on life, knowing that K’ain would never come back. Minth didn’t understand why hers was so upset. For the first time in Minth’s twenty-two turns, Antera let the green see everything she felt. No more did Antera censor her thoughts and feelings. Antera’s world had been shattered, and the only bit left was the green by her side. Scared, alone, and frustrated, Antera lashed out at the green for any small thing. Minth, poor dear, didn’t understand a bit of it. Her life until now had been a good one. Her Antera hadn’t been mean to her, in fact she protected the green from everything. So why was she so mean now? It all came down to one misdeed, one mistake that shattered what was left of Antera’s sanity.
Minth had been whining that she needed an oiling. Why couldn’t they find some oil? Or go home. Home would be nice too. Over and over she complained without meaning to. Until Antera had enough. Something shattered inside her mind, and what came afterwards, the old woman tried to block night after night. Harsh words came from the former drudge’s mouth before they could be stopped. Minth took the words to heart and vanished between. Gone. Never to come back. It was worse than losing K’ain. Minth had been her innocent half, and Antera had failed to keep her safe.
Days went by, weeks and months too, before Antera remembered anything else. It was like time had simply ceased to be. All she could do was push one foot in front of the other, keep moving, keep alive. For what she didn’t know, but there was a burning need in the center of her chest. Something that needed to be done. Something that gave her life meaning. She barely stopped to eat, rarely slept, all the time searching for that idea, that one thing that kept her alive. Until one day she stumbled upon a small holding. Weak, exhausted and in pain, Antera simply collapsed at the sight.
Almost a week later the blond woman woke enough to realize where she was. She was relatively safe, warm, and dry. Food smells teased her nose as she looked around. Surely she wasn’t alone here. There must be someone who could tell her what had happened. Who she was. Yes that was important too. Somewhere along the way madness had taken even that away. Why was she here? Did she live here, know people? Anything would be welcome at this point. Unfortunately her rescuers didn’t know much more than she did. They were willing to help her get back on her feet, if she wished to stay and help. The woman didn’t see much of a choice there. So slowly she began to help her new friends, first in the house then a few days later out in the fields. But the hard labor outside proved to be too much for the still-weak refuge. So to appease the stubborn woman’s pride, and to keep a semblance of peace around the small holding, the memory-blind woman was given a place in the crèche. It was here that the woman found a name. A child, no more than three turns started calling her Auntie Rissa for unknown reasons. Soon the rest of the children were calling her that as well. The adults were shocked at the change, for the woman was a stubborn fool out with them in the fields, but in the arms of children she was as patient and gentle as any grandmother could be.
Weeks turned over and the rainy season began. Slowly bits of Arissa’s former life came back, mainly as nightmares. Who was this K’ain they asked. Why did she fear yet love him? She asked herself. What kind of person had she been for all those turns? Her life before the gap came forth as well although it didn’t make any more sense either. The North? Since when did any one life up north? It was a barren waste land she was told. So why did she have these memories of a place named Benden? Her past remained a mystery that much was true, but the burning need grew stronger every day. The more she saw of the huge dragons, their riders, and their kin, Arissa’s hatred grew. In her twisted mind the way became clear. To save the children she now adored, the riders must be stopped. But how? Perhaps time would give her the answers she sought, so for now she would bide her time and tend her little ones.
The first few weeks away from their former home were full of close calls and troubles. Antera had all but given up on life, knowing that K’ain would never come back. Minth didn’t understand why hers was so upset. For the first time in Minth’s twenty-two turns, Antera let the green see everything she felt. No more did Antera censor her thoughts and feelings. Antera’s world had been shattered, and the only bit left was the green by her side. Scared, alone, and frustrated, Antera lashed out at the green for any small thing. Minth, poor dear, didn’t understand a bit of it. Her life until now had been a good one. Her Antera hadn’t been mean to her, in fact she protected the green from everything. So why was she so mean now? It all came down to one misdeed, one mistake that shattered what was left of Antera’s sanity.
Minth had been whining that she needed an oiling. Why couldn’t they find some oil? Or go home. Home would be nice too. Over and over she complained without meaning to. Until Antera had enough. Something shattered inside her mind, and what came afterwards, the old woman tried to block night after night. Harsh words came from the former drudge’s mouth before they could be stopped. Minth took the words to heart and vanished between. Gone. Never to come back. It was worse than losing K’ain. Minth had been her innocent half, and Antera had failed to keep her safe.
Days went by, weeks and months too, before Antera remembered anything else. It was like time had simply ceased to be. All she could do was push one foot in front of the other, keep moving, keep alive. For what she didn’t know, but there was a burning need in the center of her chest. Something that needed to be done. Something that gave her life meaning. She barely stopped to eat, rarely slept, all the time searching for that idea, that one thing that kept her alive. Until one day she stumbled upon a small holding. Weak, exhausted and in pain, Antera simply collapsed at the sight.
Almost a week later the blond woman woke enough to realize where she was. She was relatively safe, warm, and dry. Food smells teased her nose as she looked around. Surely she wasn’t alone here. There must be someone who could tell her what had happened. Who she was. Yes that was important too. Somewhere along the way madness had taken even that away. Why was she here? Did she live here, know people? Anything would be welcome at this point. Unfortunately her rescuers didn’t know much more than she did. They were willing to help her get back on her feet, if she wished to stay and help. The woman didn’t see much of a choice there. So slowly she began to help her new friends, first in the house then a few days later out in the fields. But the hard labor outside proved to be too much for the still-weak refuge. So to appease the stubborn woman’s pride, and to keep a semblance of peace around the small holding, the memory-blind woman was given a place in the crèche. It was here that the woman found a name. A child, no more than three turns started calling her Auntie Rissa for unknown reasons. Soon the rest of the children were calling her that as well. The adults were shocked at the change, for the woman was a stubborn fool out with them in the fields, but in the arms of children she was as patient and gentle as any grandmother could be.
Weeks turned over and the rainy season began. Slowly bits of Arissa’s former life came back, mainly as nightmares. Who was this K’ain they asked. Why did she fear yet love him? She asked herself. What kind of person had she been for all those turns? Her life before the gap came forth as well although it didn’t make any more sense either. The North? Since when did any one life up north? It was a barren waste land she was told. So why did she have these memories of a place named Benden? Her past remained a mystery that much was true, but the burning need grew stronger every day. The more she saw of the huge dragons, their riders, and their kin, Arissa’s hatred grew. In her twisted mind the way became clear. To save the children she now adored, the riders must be stopped. But how? Perhaps time would give her the answers she sought, so for now she would bide her time and tend her little ones.
