Cel's Ascention ch. 5&6, end of part 1

Chapter 5 Hard Days Inn
Even before she reached the junction in town she could tell it was a busy night at the Inn. From the flow of traffic across the bridge to the tavern the night was just beginning, and with luck she could slip in unnoticed. Easing around the back she found the boys digging a hole near the wood pile, mud up to their noses, apparently having adopted and later rejecting the digging methods of the tired hounds watching them lazily from the back stoop. She so hated to launch into a scolding everytime she saw them so she bit back her anger, and proceed to instruct them at arms length to get washed up at the barrel, reminding them not to muddy the barrel water this time. Both of them teased her about her new dress and pretended to try and hug her, but she noticed they didn't try to hard before running off to remove the hard earned grime.
As she turned the corner into the kitchen and set down her cloak and bundle, Keala draped an apron over her and smiled approvingly at the new dress. “Regal” he said in his low voice, topped off with a respectful smile and gentle nudge in the direction of the prep table. While tying her apron on she noticed the assortment of washed vegetables on the table and clean knife stabbed into the table surface out of reach of smaller arms. Keala didn't say much with his voice, but it was never hard to tell what he required if one paid close attention.
To say they were the only staff of this fine establishment would be an exaggeration. Several barmaids flitted about the dining room giving service to everyone, working for little more than tips and flirts. A bartender was propped up in the corner and occasionally sucked the foam from a top heavy mug while working off his tab with Oden. These were all temporary help for the festival. Towns people and girls from the surrounding farms taking this as a chance to socialize while making a few extra coin. Not all were as skilled as others.
Making Cel's point was a large crash that was obviously half filled crockery mugs ending their sodden life on Oden's oak plank floors. Several astonished cheers at random destruction were drowned out by Oden's bellowing who from the sound of it was headed towards the kitchen door. Cel braced herself for a round of questioning but was caught off guard by the flustered face of Shari, a local farm girl who had been kitchen help for several seasons, but always wanted to “graduate” to the coveted barmaid postion. Before Cel could inquire as to the problem, in came the bellowing Oden. “What use are ya to me if yer breakin my crockery, not serving ale in it!” frothed a red faced Oden. Cel could feel the wind from his rant, the heat from his face. Shari was trembling, probably half expecting her end to be delivered, and that seemed to touch something off in Cel.
She put her knife hand on her hip and stepped close enough to Oden to smell the ale, and met his eye. “She'll not earn back your crockery cowering in the floor! Back up and let the girl catch her breath.” and the appearance of someone with a backbone and a knife seemed to wrest Oden's attention from his anger towards the inept girl at his feet. He took a step back and focused in tightly on Cel, her knife, then her dress. He snorted something derisive under his breath, and looked back down, “You'll be helpin in tha kitchen since thats where we keep the children.” and sneered at Cel before crashing out through the door back into the dining room. “Have the wench clean up her mess before you put her to work.” he called back through the door as Cel knelt beside Shari.
“Girl, what are you doing here?” asked Cel. Shari looked up, red faced, eyes strained from days of crying, “Pa forbid me to see Aubrey, and I had hoped I could help us earn the coin fer our own start. Aubrey said all we needed was 30 silver. Cel didn't want to disappoint her with the news that for a year she had barley managed to save 6 copper pennies working her. Shari's next words about floored Cel, “Oden promised me 2 penny per evenin of waitin tables, plus tips.” She looked expectantly to Cel to see if the rate was fair and misunderstood the look on her face and began to cry again. “Father disowned me when he found I took the job, now Oden's lied to me and I've nowhere to sleep...” her voice trailed off into sobs that were starting to get on Cel's nerves from their sheer uselessness.
She shook the tearful girl a few times trying to break her reverie, and ended up delivering a smart sounding smack to the befuddled girl that was much louder than actual impact. The crack made everyone in the kitchen wince, which was quite a feat considering Keala never acknowledged the intrusion of the bellowing innkeep. Shari was shocked into silence by the field mouse turned feist, and even Keala quit humming as if he were listening in. “We'll get you no less than a penny a day for kitchen labor, and I'm sure you can find somewhere in the stable to sleep tonight, or share our bed until better arrangements are made.” She softened her voice and looked Shari in the eye, “Things may look rough now, but we've weathered rougher here. Get out there and clear your mess and work through tonight, tomorrow will take care of itself.”
Sniffling the older girl seemed to understand and take some hope in her words. She stood up with Cel's help and straightened her bodice, wiped her face, put on a brave smile and headed through the door. Just then the boys burst in the back a good deal cleaner, but far from clean.
Resolving to brush them down good tomorrow in the stream, she called out to them, “Ean, Elan, come here, I have something for you.” The boys were very attentive to their sister for a change and stood closely looking over her shoulders. “Do we have a package?” sang out Elan, and Ean replied in harmony, “A package for us?” “Yes, one for each.” Cel announced pulling a package out in each hand from the pile. They were plainly marked with the crude handwriting easily recognizable as Ganyne's to be her packages, and as far as she knew their entire wealth was in this wardrobe. She wanted to get this through to their 8 year old heads before she let go of the twine holding the wrapping closed, but couldn't find the words.
“Tonight we're sleeping above the feed crib, inn is full.” They nodded and knew the drill. Nights before when the inn had reached capacity they had the task of rounding up cats and clearing the mice from the loft above the feed crib and packing as many spare blankets in to break the wind as could be scavenged. The boys usually enjoyed the game and robbed many a horse stall before passing out ahead of her in a luxurious pile of blankets reeking of horse sweat.
Tonight she hoped would be different. “Please remember how the string ties, I know your blood races to see inside, but take a moment and learn. Put the old clothes together in one package and practice your own knots until your better than me.” She ran her fingers through their hair, and they were gone, almost taking her breath away.
Before she could call after them, Shari stumbled through the kitchen door her tray overloaded with broken ale mugs and the night was a stream of endless emergencies and rush orders after that. If there was any consistent theme it was catching Keala watching her and wearing a very odd satisfactory smile.
Well after midnight, after the last of the loudest customers went away, and the kitchen was cleaned and ready for tomorrow's breakfast, with beans soaking and the inventory done, Cel was very tired but satisfied. She had arranged with Shari to earn favor by making the morning vegetable run out to her father's produce stand for Oden. A boon indeed as he would wake late and run behind all day after his many rounds of celebration tonight, but from his good natured banter with his indebted and intoxicated barkeep, the till was in everyone's favor tonight. Except the barkeep. Shari tucked away safely in the feed crib loft with kids and cats, and Keala sitting at last on his wide bench by the kitchen exit.
She was tired and desperate for sleep, dreaming was NOT an issue tonight she felt confident. But Keala and his smile gave her pause. Her first chance of the evening to speak to him, but they so rarely spoke words, she didn't know how to coax him. He made easy by shocking her with a simple statement. “Good.” He smiled a relieved or relaxed smile, she wasn't sure which and continued his epic speech, “ Your strong. You worry about Cel now. Keala will worry about boys. Cel is strong, Keala not worry about her any more.” And with the last he curled up on his bench in an impossible fetal position and went directly to sleep.
Stunned, exhausted, and either disowned or promoted, she took the hint and picked up the last two packages for Rila and her cloak, staggered drunkenly up the rickety ladder to the feed loft. Sitting down with a thump she noticed in an offhand manner as the blankets seemed to fly up to her face they they did not reek of horse sweat.
When she awoke she was alone with her fingers still wrapped in the package twine, something roaring like a deranged bumble bee nearby. After a full moment of trying to locate the direction of the warbling buzz it abruptly stopped and was replaced with a shout, splash, and laughter in that order. Absently noticing a lack of blankets, Cel fumbled with her cloak and retrieved her comb. A prized possession in this primitive world, her comb was also perhaps her greatest weapon of hygiene against the boys. They kept their locks shorn close to their head without her ever having to mention it.
Sitting, sunning with her feet hanging out of the loft she combed her hair and discovered the source of tomfoolery, and perhaps the buzzing noise as well. The young rider that had almost trampled her yesterday was soaking wet and shaking the water out of some bronzed object. His comrades seemed to be taunting him but she couldn't make out their voices so far away. She snapped a twig from a nearby branch and began scrubbing each tooth with the frayed end. This was something else she was proud of the boys about. They were reluctant and stubborn about it until the Oden had the bout with three abscesses in a row. One look in his mouth, one draft of his rotten breath and the next morning Keala was hoisting the boys up to get him one too.
She rounded the doorway into the kitchen and was greeted by many wonderful welcoming smells and the familiar sight of Keala easily working almost every corner of the kitchen at once. Boots slung over her shoulder she lifted the edge of one pot for a peek and was rewarded with Steam from the pan and a spoon to the knuckles from Keala. He pointed with his spoon to a towel covered plate on the bar and returned to his pots. Cel could take a hint, and nursing her sore knuckles she sat down on a rather uneven representative of the stool family at the bar. Setting her boots down and peeling back the towel she almost clapped out loud. “Orange peel muffins.” she managed say before most of one became recent history. And the day proceeded gloriously.
The boys raced by several times until the muffin plate was empty, next pass one wiped the bar down while the other whisked the plate away. Oden came down holding his head complaining of wood bees boring into his head, and was relieved when everything appeared under control. He took the willow bark tea Keala had Ean deliver into his hands unrequested, and went back upstairs. Shari returned from her fathers market a composed and confident young woman. Her father seemed a little less opposed to a kitchen job, and Oden must be very impressed to send her out with the most important task (in their minds) for the kitchen. Even before the last muffin disappeared Cel got to meet the bartender from last night, named Bil. She directed him to the kitchen for a meal and instructed him to bath and be back by half-past for tonight's employment. He seemed to consider for a moment questioning her authority, then got up and ambled off to the kitchen rubbing his face.
The day seemed to speed by as she met the bread and meat deliveries, served out and charged for lunch, no one questioned her. As problems came up she guided Shari through each one and after lunch clean up the prima donna waitresses began to drift in. Shari ignored the first few jibes but once the flock of hens had settled in and started to cluck, everyone, including herself it seemed was started to Shari say loudly, “Ok girls, either get to wiping tables or into the kitchen to learn a respectable trade with ya.” Certainly wanting to avoid what would be social death to them, and deciding better now than when Oden came down, they hen's began to flutter about the room busily.
On Cel's face was a smile she might have recognized had she seen it on her face as well as on Keala's last night.
Chapter 6 Off to see the Witch
Slipping away turned out to be easier than she though. Most of his days business seemed to share his hangover and turn out around the same time he did. She took her first opportunity and set out with her cloak and packages before Oden had a chance to think up some task to establish his authority.
She did notice as she headed past the bridge the soldiers training or mending their equipment. Not preparing to break camp for the evening it seemed. She hurried on past hoping they, he, wouldn't see her.
Not far past where the hills ended and the forest crept up to them, the road was first obscured from sight of town she detected the familiar aroma of Dorne's smoke. She tried not to show she noticed and moved purposefully up the road, hoping to make the dwarf sweat. Thirty or more paces into the attempt she still hadn't heard a single sound she could attribute to the dwarf, so she closed her eyes to concentrate on her hearing. Leaves rustling along the path, tittering squirrel in the tree, but no panting dwarf.
Stopping and making as if to readjust her bundle, she hoped he would appear without her seeing. The whole magic thing was still unnerving. While it might be second nature for him and his kind to appear and disappear without warning, it was still bordering on witchcraft and evil in her mind and made her nervous to be around it. She was relieved, and somewhat irritated at the same time to hear twig snap in the brush just off the road and a curse stifled as it attempted to escape the sneaker.

“Ok, sneaking up on me doesn't win my favor, show yourself and lets get on our way.” She stated with all of the confidence her day had bred. Putting Bil in his place, sending Oden out of the kitchen, hope that her madness might not destroy her completely, all part of an important empowered feeling she had been enjoying. How easily it shattered when two human, if rather unclean forms detached themselves from the shadows and one began a subtle maneuver between her and the way she came.

“Hullo lil missy, wuz you expectin us, or a tender lover?” the shorter of the two asked, while the other considered that humorous. She caught her breath at the thought of her blunder, and wondered if and where Dorne might be concealed or if he had been waylaid by these two. Easily they cut her off from either continuing down the road, or retreating back to the safety of town, and the bold one just stepped right up and slipped a finger inside her cloak and lifted it back to reveal her dress and let out an appreciative whistle to his friend. They probably shared thoughts that the dress meant they would find cash on her and both jackels shared a greedy laugh that sent a powerful shiver up Cel's spine. They were about to be disappointed, and she did not want to be here when they took out their disappointment on a poor girl in a new dress.

Her mind worked feverishly, she was a quick runner, if she could only get a distraction or a jump on them she might have a chance. So with a single thought of making the curve 100 steps in the direction of Rila's she tossed her bundle to the shorter ruffian and put all of her power into her first step, and a gust of wind rolled her over and she fell on her back. Confused by the sudden breeze, internal timer still expecting the beating to start Cel flung her arms up to ward off blows. All she received was a distant shout of “Whot tha Hell?”, “Over yonder Ed!” then “A Dwarf?!” the last punctuated by other noises. Weapon's sliding from sheaths and the meaty thunk of the mace was recognizable.
Dorne had arrived not long after taking a hearty lunch, here to where Cel agreed to meet him, curled up higher off the road on a sunny rock and napped. His cloak was always sufficient to keep his form blended in with the surroundings up until someone sat on him, so he had no idea how long he slept. Just that he was awoken rudely by the two humans setting an ambush for later.
They seemed very casual, discussing at length their past week of muggings and laughing easily at the unfair fate that met with their victims. Dorne's first instinct was to remove these vermin. Not a paladin by any means, and not his style to dispense justice, but he like roads safe as much as anyone. These two did not deserve a judge or jury any more than their prey received mercy. But not his job, not his current task, only in so much as he needed to see the girl safely out of the ambush. Killing them outright without visible cause or evidence left bodies. Dead humans asked more questions than you would think, and a couple found lying at his feet outside town would be tough for him to explain to Cel, and have the locals in an uproar.
Much better if Cel walked right past their ambush, and if they let her... they would live. So he sat and watched for over an hour and was encouraged to see them let several pedestrians pass unmolested. And when Cel turned the corner she was practically skipping right along. Dorne had a whole moment where hopes ran high, this might work out smoothly. Until she stopped to readjust her bundle they were not paying any attention to her. But as the shorter of the pair tried to ease forward to get a better look at her package that she was fumbling with he inadvertently stepped on a stick and it reverberated through the copse of woods like a stick green wood popping on a fire. Cel called out to him, not knowing others were making their move and he resolved to act.
And you must understand, most intelligent things in the world are larger than dwarves, yet not many meet their ferocity. Dwarves have developed over time as hard and cold as the stone they love so well. Sure they mourn the death of a loved one, and as a general rule are reluctant to kill if there are other, more profitable options. But when one has resolved that death must be delivered they move forward on that task with no compulsion, no remorse. This is where Dorne was now, moving forward, measuring his opponents, the distance between them, and Cel, making no sound, eyes narrowing, mace sliding out of storage in one hand, dependable dagger in the other. Part of his mind was already planning for disposal of bodies and evidence when Cel tossed the bundle into the lead brigand's face and promptly vanished leaving him fumbling with the package. Dorne's mace snapped his thighbone with a nasty crunch but before the pathetic fool realized what broke it a dagger raced through his throat. Some part of his mind was concerned for Cel, but she was clear of the task at hand, which should be over soon.
Looking up and trying to rise Cel saw combat taking place where she had been standing, Shorty, Ed apparently, had fallen to the ground and was holding his leg and making a weeping, gasping noise, while his taller friend was trying to make a retreat. Dorne seemed to have hurled the mace before, as it flew from his hands like an able missile to strike Ed's lanky friend hard in the small of his back sending him forward a few more steps before bringing him down in a very awkward position.
In a few strides Dorne had covered the distance between himself and the club, and something shorter flashed in his other hand as he knelt over the runner, she recognized it as a knife about the time he slit the fellow's throat. Ed had found peace as well and was lying in a puddle of pooling blood. Dorne looked up at her quizzically then drug his last kill to the first body, then back to where it fell before began giving the uncaring body a going over.
Cel understood little at that moment, Different thoughts raced forward simultaneously without regard for each other or priority.
Why was she here, she was standing right there by Ed, tossed her pack and tried to run and a breeze knocked her over...
Would Dorne just as quietly and methodically kill her and go through her pockets, how did killing come so effortless to him?
What was fixing to happen, where did those two come from, who were they and what almost happened...
They all came crashing together for Cel in an instant of nausea and having made it to her hands and knees during the second or so of combat she easily turned her head and unceremoniously deposited the muffins and any other miscellaneous contents her stomach held.. She had seen fights, she had seen plenty of blood since assuming responsibility for her brothers, she had even seen a man stabbed who later died. But this was different, fear... fear for her own life, arriving at the conclusion of two dead men.
Dorne finished going over the second corpse and arranged his “fight scene”. Obviously the two brigands had a violent disagreement and neither one. A bloody trail lead to the last brigand as he apparently tried to crawl away from his friend. A handful of coins in his death grip, dagger in the other seemed to explain it all completely. Maybe these dead humans would answer enough questions to keep suspicions down.
Walking over to the recovering young girl he asked if she was alright. She nodded and looked back up the path to the bodies, shivered then looked away. “Is it like this everywhere?” she asked, weakly rising to her feet and accepting the bundle Dorne held out to her. “Yes, and no. Everywhere something strong lies waiting to prey on the weak. But everything has something dear to it. There are those you love or trust that would cut my throat as cleanly. Its complicated and simple, but lets walk a deer trail to Rila's while we discuss it. This will need to be found separate from us.” With the last words Dorne set off the well worn path into the woods and hills to the north, and Cel had to follow closely for a bit through silence just to keep up.
As they crested a slight rise Cel could see Rila's cabin below. It was still a mile or so away, but the scene was serene, inviting. Dorne sat and produced his pipe pouch, and gestured for her to do the same. Before going about his business with the pipe he brought out a water flask and offered it to Cel, who took it gratefully and sat down looking at the tranquil scene below. Several quiet moments passed while Dorne readied his pipe and lit it in his flashy manner. Cel ended that silence by asking “Those men would not have let me go, would they?” He replied, “No, successful thieves do not leave witnesses.” Then asked a question of his own, “You probably had a good chance of escaping with that jump you made. Why did you chose to use your powers to jump and run rather than try to destroy them?”
She took another swig of water then recapped the skein and returned it to him without looking at him. Moments passed before she responded, “I don't know about any powers, I just knew I had to get away. Running is all I have ever done.” Looking at him she added, “You were in no danger yet came forward and killed them both, to save me?” An awkward question, both in how it was asked, and how it was answered. “Sometimes seems killing is all I have ever done.” and he puffed thoughtfully on the pipe and looked as distant as the mountains in the clouds.
The path was uneventful the rest of the way to Rila's. They made small talk and discovered a shared disdain for cheap ale and those who sold it at full price, though probably for different reasons. Dorne also told a little about the stone, “It's Mythril” he said, as if that explained everything. He held the stone up so it gleamed dully in the fading sunlight. It seemed to transform the sunshine into a subtle lavender aura. “Its as strong or stronger than steel, which humans haven't quite re-mastered yet, yet a quarter of the weight. A shield of this would be worth more than Oden's Inn.” While that impressed her, she didn't understand why such a small bit would be so important. “Well, consider this. If me brother dwarves knew of a location fer this to be mined they would send an army immediately to secure tha mining rights.. Likewise if'n humans knew of and could extract tha ore, they too would be out in force, as a bar of this is worth four times its weight in gold, bein so much lighter and all. Your right, this lil piece isn't worth near as much as tha knowledge of where it hails from. Consider this though, if'n it came from hills near here, it would certainly mean war!”

This made her think of the other “races” he had mentioned the night before, but before she could ask they were upon the step of the Crazed Witch Rila. Cel knew her to be gruff, and sometimes very unconcerned about town business and various happenings. But she really did help a lot of people, she was poor by every standard, but commanded a great deal of respect from the community. She might not get it directly, and most folks pretended not to even notice her unless they were in dire need. But she certainly earned it. Now however she appeared determined to play the part of crazed witch as she flung the top half of her two piece door open with a crash and shouted out, “Don't think I can't see through your disguises demons, begone or I shall fry you with your own hell fire!” To which Dorne calmly lifted his hands open towards the woman palms open and said, “Truly, do you get many demons my height Rila?”

The stress seemed to leave her face and she extended a hand towards his and her finger traced the lifeline across his palm. “No,” she nonchalantly replied, “just you.” Rila's right hand quit tracing the lifeline on Dorne's palm and the left went towards the latch on the bottom half of the door then stopped. Rila's right hand then reached out palm forward and came within a foot of Cel. Her left hand then went to her dress pocket where she kept her lens on a twine, extracted it and brought it up to her eye.

“Cel,” she said, with a note of sorrow in her voice, “Ohh Cel, not you.” The lower door squeaked as the latch released it, and Rila made a sweeping motion to enter, but stepped back away from Cel. Not wanting to be the object of pity anymore today, she hastened inside and blurted out her excuse of an errand, “Seamstress Jayne has asked me to deliver these cloaks you ordered.” Cel quickly moved to untying her bundle as Dorne closed both door halves behind his entrance.

A glance between Rila and Dorne went unnoticed by Cel as she sorted out the two bundles to leave and readjusted her load. The look from Rila was inquiring how bad it was, and the look returned from Dorne was not encouraging. Displaying a comfortable knowledge of the witch's home the dwarf slipped quietly into the kitchen while the package exchange took place, but Rila didn't inspect her packages. Setting them down on a bench not far from the hearth she motioned for Cel to sit. “Was it you who called power near here last night?” Rila asked Cel. The girl certainly didn't like the answer as it left her mouth, “I think so, yes... I've been dreaming a lot lately, and it seem the harder I try not to, the worse it gets.”

Cel was close to tears, but Rila just set back in her chair, one hand holding her chin, covering her mouth. It was a peculiarity folks were accustom to seeing from the witch, it meant her mind was working on something. Dorne walked back into the room with a pitcher of water and some cups. As he served it gave Cel the moment she needed to regain her composure. After all, here were two people who knew she dreamed and were not running full tilt into the forest. “So what brought you two together at my doorstep this evening?” Rila said then took a sip of her water. Dorne began his part of the tale and Cel learned of an amulet he had been using for his Fade trick. Rila's eyebrows went up at the mention of the soldiers patrol, but she didn't interrupt. Cel picked up at the end of his story, not much to tell, just in and out of the seamstress's shop to pick up some clothes for the boys, “And picking up a lovely new dress too, lass, ye fergot to mention that.” Dorne chimed in embarrassing her.

“The soldiers are in town from hunting Phantoms in the nearby forests.” added Rila casting a baleful eye upon Cel. “I sense pressure building, Your rock only tells me what the pressure will focus on.” Rila seemed far away when saying this last part. Cel thought of her Dreams and the fire that consumed her in them and was about to agree silently with her when she all but shouted, “Cel! Cease that AT ONCE!” Not sure aware she was doing anything she jerked back to the conversation in time to see the candles dying back down as they sagged in their holders, the too large fire smoldering in the fire place returning to its original size, and poor Dorne looking at his thumb with great amazement as the 12 inch flame settled back down to its usual pipe lighting size. “I didn't know I had it in me,” he chuckled between pipe puffs, as if he hadn't nearly incinerated his own head.

Terror was stalking Cel in the room at that moment as she began to know the power of her potential. Not only was it in her to call forth her worst nightmares to devour her, she could also lose control of a single thought and ... and what, she wasn't sure of the upper limits, didn't want to know, looked to Dorne puffing contentedly on his pipe like this was as perplexing as kitten learning to jump, and then to Rila who was making a discovery of her own. “A Channeler!” she exclaimed! “Really you do have to learn some control and exercises before you bring the hills down.” The patient looks on their faces as they awaited her to accept the surreal truth that her life as she knew it was over was too much. When she recognized that single fact, that she couldn't return to town, her brothers, Keala... she wept until exhaustion took her. Which didn't take as long as you would expect.