Ru's Reflections
Nov 4, 2024 14:46:40 GMT -5
ShadowCatJen, Masterbard Alyster Darkharp, and 8 more like this
Post by Willow on Nov 4, 2024 14:46:40 GMT -5
Three years. It was hard to believe so much time has passed already, much of it in a blur. Three years since Cloudstone fell. Three years since Four Winds was founded. A year and a half since the Slinger Storm.
Her mind had nearly cracked when Cloudstone had fallen as the ordeal put pressure on every repair that had been made over the decades. She had finally found a home, a place, a purpose, people. She was a Wind Tamer, learning to control the very air she breathed. Too many pieces of the puzzle had been hidden until the very end. Arrogance and paranoia prevented true cooperation, and the world paid the price.
She would have fallen with Cloudstone. Perhaps the Seldarine knew this. Instead, all had gone dark on the bridge, and she was revived just in time to watch her beloved city crash into the Wyvernwater. Weeks were spent scouring the banks, seeking signs of life in the wreckage. The haze began to set in as she dragged body after body back to the healers. She was slowly losing herself in the fog of grief, reverting to the shadows, reverting to Daeris. Slinger pulled her back.
Slinger. Once her dearest friend. She had been ready to give him up before her world crashed, but the feeling was not mutual. He found her time and time again on the devastated banks of the Wyvernwater. He came not with consolation or sympathy for her loss. No, she didn’t need a shoulder to cry on and he knew this, not yet. He came to challenge the darkness within her, to throw fuel on the fire that still burned.
He threw her own points back in her face. She didn’t have to be what they made her. She could fight, she could choose. She could still have it all, she just had to forge a new path. She could be in control of her fate. His lack of finesse nearly got him killed, though eventually his words got through.
While she had navigated her way back, Slinger began working on a way forward. She still had contacts near and far and Kalien was still making the rounds. They knew the trade routes across the realm, they could acquire exotic goods at fair prices and had enough friends to get them home while still making a profit. Slinger knew Cormyr. He knew which papers had to be filed, he knew who to speak to and he had no qualms about speaking up.
Three moons. Within three moons the Four Winds Trading Company was born. They could have been great. She should have asked more questions.
She had a bad habit of overcorrecting. She allowed the grief over her recent loss and her gratitude towards Slinger to blind her to reality. The darkness had gotten ahold of him, twisted his great potential into jaded perception and sinister intent. She wondered if it had ever really let go.
Did it really matter now? They were doing great things. They were helping Valkur’s Roar. She had helped mend relations between the city and her hidden cousins. They had rescued slaves, children included. They helped to defend the city and poured their own resources into worthy causes. There were more great losses along the way, children included. A year flew by in a flurry of tests and trials, but she didn’t break.
They had a ship, a warehouse, contracts, and a full crew. They hosted parties and held positions within the city that allowed them to make a positive impact. Her path was finally her own. She could choose. She could endure.
When did it start? The last big storm. The Slinger Storm. The signs were there all along, she knew, she should have looked deeper. The failure still weighed heavy on her heart. The storm hit at the end of her first trip as Captain. Their first trip as Freesails. She was riding a cloud when they got home. The crash was instant.
They had nearly lost everything in an instant. Every dark cloud she had ignored came together to form the deadliest storm she had ever faced, and she was forced to make the hardest decisions of her life. She lost her crew, her friends, her faith.
No, no dwelling on that. The memory was already etched in stone around every turn. She had endured. That’s what mattered. She had endured.
There were still a few she could count on. There was still a reason to continue. There was still a reason to stay. She had worked hard to build an honest trading company centered in Cormyr, and she was bound to the place, the history of the land striking a chord she could feel but not explain. Even if she had been left with nothing, she couldn’t have left Lily.
Lily.
Lily was the living embodiment of what she herself aspired to. She was among the second group of slaves the Four Winds had rescued. How many had they rescued? Did it really matter now? Most had gone on to new lives with heavy purses to pave a new path.
Rose remained. She had pulled the woman from the wreckage of a sinking ship, chained to a still burning oven. So many slaves, too much time. She had nearly given her life that day when they were found by the true owners of the shipment. She refused to allow them to leave with the slaves, she refused to allow the drugs on the ship to pass through Cormyrian waters.
Lily was from the island. Lily and Billy. Silly. The children were among a group of slaves destined for disposal, all maimed in some way. She’d found them a home at Hope’s Cradle, a place where they could be safe and loved. She made weekly donations to help support the children as well as contribute to the care of the others. Billy lost his life on the Dreadful Night.
She had held tight to the threads of the Four Winds, spending yet another year navigating storms and renegotiating deals. She relied heavily on those who remained and gratefully welcomed new faces. Another Shieldmeet had come and gone. Cinnaelos’Cor, the beginning of a new aeloulaev. A new chapter.
A new chapter. She could write a book. A cautionary tale. Perhaps she should hire a bard or a Runa. It was off to a good start either way. A grand adventure had been temporarily delayed by an encounter that left the ship in need of repairs but left her beaming with pride over the competence of her crew. A mystic had recently warned her not to rush and already his words were ringing true.
Lily. The young girl with dark hair, bright eyes, a kind heart, and wisdom far beyond her years. Lily had been on her mind often recently. Hope’s Cradle had recently taken in more children than any one home can hold, no matter how willing. Lily had become part of the family there, helping to care for the other children.
The Four Winds could afford to house many children. Rose was almost eager to care for them, in her own quiet way. She could finally be sure that the Four Winds was fit for children. Renovations would be needed, of course, but she had arranged a meeting with Miss Amity to discuss the matter. It only took one look from Lily to answer the most important question. Lily had come home that night.
Her mind had nearly cracked when Cloudstone had fallen as the ordeal put pressure on every repair that had been made over the decades. She had finally found a home, a place, a purpose, people. She was a Wind Tamer, learning to control the very air she breathed. Too many pieces of the puzzle had been hidden until the very end. Arrogance and paranoia prevented true cooperation, and the world paid the price.
She would have fallen with Cloudstone. Perhaps the Seldarine knew this. Instead, all had gone dark on the bridge, and she was revived just in time to watch her beloved city crash into the Wyvernwater. Weeks were spent scouring the banks, seeking signs of life in the wreckage. The haze began to set in as she dragged body after body back to the healers. She was slowly losing herself in the fog of grief, reverting to the shadows, reverting to Daeris. Slinger pulled her back.
Slinger. Once her dearest friend. She had been ready to give him up before her world crashed, but the feeling was not mutual. He found her time and time again on the devastated banks of the Wyvernwater. He came not with consolation or sympathy for her loss. No, she didn’t need a shoulder to cry on and he knew this, not yet. He came to challenge the darkness within her, to throw fuel on the fire that still burned.
He threw her own points back in her face. She didn’t have to be what they made her. She could fight, she could choose. She could still have it all, she just had to forge a new path. She could be in control of her fate. His lack of finesse nearly got him killed, though eventually his words got through.
While she had navigated her way back, Slinger began working on a way forward. She still had contacts near and far and Kalien was still making the rounds. They knew the trade routes across the realm, they could acquire exotic goods at fair prices and had enough friends to get them home while still making a profit. Slinger knew Cormyr. He knew which papers had to be filed, he knew who to speak to and he had no qualms about speaking up.
Three moons. Within three moons the Four Winds Trading Company was born. They could have been great. She should have asked more questions.
She had a bad habit of overcorrecting. She allowed the grief over her recent loss and her gratitude towards Slinger to blind her to reality. The darkness had gotten ahold of him, twisted his great potential into jaded perception and sinister intent. She wondered if it had ever really let go.
Did it really matter now? They were doing great things. They were helping Valkur’s Roar. She had helped mend relations between the city and her hidden cousins. They had rescued slaves, children included. They helped to defend the city and poured their own resources into worthy causes. There were more great losses along the way, children included. A year flew by in a flurry of tests and trials, but she didn’t break.
They had a ship, a warehouse, contracts, and a full crew. They hosted parties and held positions within the city that allowed them to make a positive impact. Her path was finally her own. She could choose. She could endure.
When did it start? The last big storm. The Slinger Storm. The signs were there all along, she knew, she should have looked deeper. The failure still weighed heavy on her heart. The storm hit at the end of her first trip as Captain. Their first trip as Freesails. She was riding a cloud when they got home. The crash was instant.
They had nearly lost everything in an instant. Every dark cloud she had ignored came together to form the deadliest storm she had ever faced, and she was forced to make the hardest decisions of her life. She lost her crew, her friends, her faith.
No, no dwelling on that. The memory was already etched in stone around every turn. She had endured. That’s what mattered. She had endured.
There were still a few she could count on. There was still a reason to continue. There was still a reason to stay. She had worked hard to build an honest trading company centered in Cormyr, and she was bound to the place, the history of the land striking a chord she could feel but not explain. Even if she had been left with nothing, she couldn’t have left Lily.
Lily.
Lily was the living embodiment of what she herself aspired to. She was among the second group of slaves the Four Winds had rescued. How many had they rescued? Did it really matter now? Most had gone on to new lives with heavy purses to pave a new path.
Rose remained. She had pulled the woman from the wreckage of a sinking ship, chained to a still burning oven. So many slaves, too much time. She had nearly given her life that day when they were found by the true owners of the shipment. She refused to allow them to leave with the slaves, she refused to allow the drugs on the ship to pass through Cormyrian waters.
Lily was from the island. Lily and Billy. Silly. The children were among a group of slaves destined for disposal, all maimed in some way. She’d found them a home at Hope’s Cradle, a place where they could be safe and loved. She made weekly donations to help support the children as well as contribute to the care of the others. Billy lost his life on the Dreadful Night.
She had held tight to the threads of the Four Winds, spending yet another year navigating storms and renegotiating deals. She relied heavily on those who remained and gratefully welcomed new faces. Another Shieldmeet had come and gone. Cinnaelos’Cor, the beginning of a new aeloulaev. A new chapter.
A new chapter. She could write a book. A cautionary tale. Perhaps she should hire a bard or a Runa. It was off to a good start either way. A grand adventure had been temporarily delayed by an encounter that left the ship in need of repairs but left her beaming with pride over the competence of her crew. A mystic had recently warned her not to rush and already his words were ringing true.
Lily. The young girl with dark hair, bright eyes, a kind heart, and wisdom far beyond her years. Lily had been on her mind often recently. Hope’s Cradle had recently taken in more children than any one home can hold, no matter how willing. Lily had become part of the family there, helping to care for the other children.
The Four Winds could afford to house many children. Rose was almost eager to care for them, in her own quiet way. She could finally be sure that the Four Winds was fit for children. Renovations would be needed, of course, but she had arranged a meeting with Miss Amity to discuss the matter. It only took one look from Lily to answer the most important question. Lily had come home that night.