Freedom Pt 06 08

Author's Note: All non-consent scenes have now been sanitized and are without intercourse, and thus these parts are now quite condensed; therefore, I felt the best option was to release them in batch.

Assume there are no sexual scenes in this story.

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Freedom Part 6: Villjord

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Casiama held a hand over her eyes, scanning a strange city far off in the distance. The destination for their journey, she hoped. It had been a long six days, and the elf was ready for proper respite from the cold.

Villjord was an anomalous and ominous looking locale. The city was situated on the furthest tip of a peninsula which shared the same name, surrounded by dark waters on each side except to the east, where it was connected to the mainland by a small natural bridge of ice and snow. The city boundaries were shaped like a lopsided star, its five points curling betwixt large stone pillars which rose proudly from the icy seas surrounding it, seemingly undeterred from erosion.

The city was ringed with high stone walls on each side and studded with square towers, only falling off to allow for a small port to exist on the furthest point of the city. Villjord was also dominated by a prominent, black step-pyramid situated at its exact center. The pyramid housed both the College of Villjord - a college of magic which trained up to a hundred sorceresses at any one time - and was also the seat of power for the Jarlinna of Villjord.

The Jarlinna herself was elected by a council of sorceresses, and as such was typically drawn from those same ranks. The Jarlinna ruled for life, and when she passed another would be elected to take her place. And so the custom had continued for centuries, the only settlement of man on the continent where women ruled unquestioningly.

"What do you see, Cass?" Talos asked, stepping beside her and wrapping an arm around her thin waist. She pointed at the star of buildings in the distance, obscured by a gloomy sea-borne haze. Talos shrugged, then kissed her on the cheek. She shivered in delight, squishing against him.

"Guess we made it. I'll go tell Sigi," Talos smirked.

-

Talos, Casiama, and Sigismund made camp for one final night, two tents huddled against a large wall of ice to their west. Talos had hoped to make it within Villjord's walls today, but night had already fallen and the trio was still ten miles from its gates. Rather than brave the ice bridge crossing in the dark of an Isbryggan night, they instead decided to retire where they were.

Faint, dancing, undulating green lights shone dimly in the clear night sky above them. Casiama laid cuddled within her sleeping furs in the open next to their fire, gazing upon the Lady's bounty with the utmost glee.

Talos, rather than watch the aurora, watched her instead as he sat beside her on the snow. His eyes danced over her cheerful lips, his heart fluttered over her joyous eyes. Gods, was she pretty.

"I love you, Casiama."

The elf's smile somehow grew wider at his words, and she rolled within her sleeping bag to gaze upon him.

"You're my everything, Talos," she replied, heartfelt. Talos leaned in to peck her on the lips, unable to resist her any longer.

"Get a tent you two." Sigismund sat opposite them across the dancing flames, his eyes fixed upon the dancing lights above them. Casiama giggled at his interference.

"I thought you said you were happy for us, Sigi," she beamed, eyes still focused on her lover's.

Sigismund grinned, happiness evident even on his disfigured face. He sat silent for a moment, conjuring an appropriate answer. "I am. Doesn't mean I want to hear of it all journey," the man said gruffly.

Talos ran a hand along Casiama's face, kissing her soft cheek even softer. "Don't mind him, honey. He's just a grumpy ol' curmudgeon." Casiama chuckled, pecking Talos' cheek in return.

"He is. We need to find him a woman," she whispered slyly, just loud enough for all present to hear.

"Yeesh. Who the hell would go for

that?

" he mused in jest, pointing at Sigismund across the fire. His sight finally left Casiama's when Sigismund didn't speak up for a moment. Talos had expected a sharp retort, as was the veteran's custom.

Talos looked upon his former lieutenant, finding sadness even within his right eye, which had been rendered white by a long vertical scar so many decades ago. He knew the look. Talos had been told he'd had the same for weeks after Rayya's death.

"No... you had someone? Have? Sigi?"

Sigismund nodded, eyes fixed to the heavens. "Yeah. Had." He rose from the fire, crouching to retreat into his tent. "Night, lovebirds," he said sadly.

Talos wanted to ask so many questions. Did he ever mention this before? Where was she now? What happened?

"Night, Sigi," Casiama replied with a frown. Talos clenched his fists, deciding to let the topic rest. He opened Casiama's bedroll just long enough to slide in beside her, then watched the whimsical aurora with his lover until they drifted off to sleep.

-

Talos, Casiama, and Sigismund made their way through the small gate of the city of Villjord early in the morning. They found little foot traffic making their way through the gates, Talos realizing that the city was likely supplied and traveled to by sea judging from the array of ships by the harbor. There hadn't been a road to travel on for their entire journey across the peninsula, which had confused the trio for quite some time. It now made sense.

They were accosted by four guards wearing the blues-and-blacks of the Jarldom of Villjord. Normally, Talos would have explained what he was doing here. He realized that his small party of three likely looked quite intimidating, and he wanted to reassure the soldiers that he meant no harm.

Problem was, he didn't speak Isbryggan. He waved his head and hands about as the soldiers shouted and pointed, only picking up a word or two. He did know the words for drink, food, bed, and fuck in Isbryggan, although the guards weren't using those right now.

"Cass," he whispered to the elf on his left, eyes still pointed forward towards the spearmen. "We need Silvia to translate. You do the talking."

"Hold on," she replied with a whisper, bringing a hand towards her pack as inconspicuously as possible to fetch her magical stone. Talos improvised.

"Me good people," he said loudly, pointing to his own chest as he waved his other arm about. "Me no hurt..." he pointed at them, "you."

"Vex, get Silvia on the farcaster!" Casiama demanded of a woman a hundred miles away.

The guards lowered their spears at Talos, the man replying with arms raised skyward. "No, no! Me

good

people."

"Silvia, hi. I need you to translate what I say into the northern languge, okay?"

Talos took a step back, his party following suit behind him.

"We mean you no harm," Casiama whispered to herself and one other, "we only want to warn the Jarlinna of an attack." Casiama shut her eyes a moment, then repeated the same phrase in Isbryggan louder, for all present.

"

Hurt you not us. Us tell leader of raid on tussle bear,"

she shouted, tripping over each syllable of the brutal language.

The guards raised their spears again, one even nodding after a moment. "

Tussle bear?"

one asked. Casiama nodded with an attempt at a reassuring smile, unsure what the word meant.

"Silvia, what's '

tussle bear'

mean?" she asked quietly. "Oh. 'Dystval'," the elf corrected for the guards. "

Us tell leader of raid on Dystval,

" Casiama repeated again. Worried glances were exchanged between the men at the gate, and they promptly stepped aside to allow the trio to access the city.

-

An hour later, the three foreigners slowly trudged up the eighty-five steps towards the top of the massive black pyramid in the center of Villjord, the Jarlinna's quarters laying at the very top. The Jarlinna herself would never have to walk these steps; her handmaidens would bring her down in a litter. But everyone else was forced to walk, in hopes of reminding of their place in the far-of city.

"Gods damnit, we need to find someone who speaks Elvish," Talos scoffed to no one in particular. Casiama frowned.

"I can do this, Talos," she retorted. "It's not

that

bad. Silvia said we could chat at any time."

"Sure, but even if we do manage an audience, we'll need to ensure she understands the severity of the situation. Poorly translated phrases won't do that, Cass."

A girl in black, standing by a pillar at the top of the stairs, overheard him. She stepped behind the man silently, clearing her throat when she arrived. Talos turned around and paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the gorgeous woman before him.

She wore a long-sleeved black silk dress that fell loosely to the ground, black silk gloves, a small black leather jacket, and a black choker with a brown diamond in the center, which matched her eyes both in color and brilliance. All of her pale skin was covered except the top of her neck and her face, which held the cutest button nose, moon-shaped eyes, and brows and pouting lips that perpetually held the visage that she were but one word from crying. Her straight, jet-black hair fell freely to her back.

"Hello," the woman greeted quietly, Talos suddenly realizing that he'd been undressing her with his gaze. His mouth had been left agape when he crudely replied.

"Uh... hello. We're-" he started saying as he turned away from her, then paused mid-step. "Wait! Can you speak Isbryggan?"

The girl shook her head. Talos noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, a small black cat hiding beneath the woman's black dress.

"Damn," he shrugged. The girl blushed profusely, and stayed quiet for a moment with her eyes affixed elsewhere than his.

"I wanted to let you know that the Jarlinna speaks fluent Elvish. That's all," the girl said hurriedly, already taking a step away from him. Talos noticed it looked like she wanted to run away from the conversation, but decided to greet her formally. A beautiful woman in a town of sorcery only meant one thing, and he had learned early that it was wise to not make an enemy of a sorceress.

"That's great news. I'm Talos, of Evora," he said warmly, extending a hand to the black-clad sorceress. She took it hurriedly, shaking it weakly. He waived his free hand towards his friends. "These are my companions, Casiama of Tor Valliya and Sigismund Decatur."

"Tatiana Vittori," she replied succinctly, twice nodding meekly towards Talos' friends. His eyes danced down Tatiana's silken dress towards the cat at her feet, and he raised his eyebrows as if in query. "And that's Dusk," she added with a half-smile.

"Studying here?" Sigismund asked, Talos realizing the old man was also examining their new friend attentively. She shook her head in silent reply as her legs squirmed beneath her dress, her eyes dancing back towards Talos, and then away again.

"Well, it's good to meet you Tatiana Vittori. And thanks for the tip," Talos said warmly.

"Yes! I mean, you're welcome, Talos of Evora. Goodbye," Tatiana replied out-of-breath, cheeks still reddened. She knelt down to pick up her cat before making her way down the eighty-five steps in haste.

Talos and Sigismund were either examining the town of Villjord beneath them, or watching Tatiana's backside and legs create all manner of interesting shape under her flowing silken dress as she descended the pyramid.

Talos tilted his head towards Sigismund, elbowing him gently in the side with a grin. It had been the latter.

"Oh, don't be a hound," Sigismund chided, sharing his grin then half-nodding towards Casiama for Talos' sake. Talos spun around, having forgotten of her for a quick moment, and found the elf drilling into his eyes with a glare.

"Do you think she's pretty?!" Casiama asked in anger, or quite possibly the world's greatest mimicry of it. Talos felt confidently playful in his reply.

"Do you want me to lie?" he smirked. Casiama's face lit up, transforming in an instant. The princess had been getting better at faking displeasure as of late, finding it humorous.

"Well, I think she's pretty," she admitted wonderfully. Talos pecked her on the lips, then gripped the elf's shoulder as he turned towards the Jarlinna's throne room doors.

"Have I told you how perfect you are?" Talos asked.

-

Tatiana exhaled sharply as her boots met the street once more, having practically run down the eighty-five steps of the Villjord pyramid. She brought a finger to Dusk's ear, calming herself through his mewls. She chided herself for her poor conversational skills, pondering how she could have possibly made it through life this far without being able to introduce herself to a gentleman.

Was Talos with the elf? What was her name again?

Tatiana stepped down the street quickly, looking to return to her room at the inn so she could hide within her room for the rest of the day. Dusk whined, telling her to release him from her grasp, and she gently dropped him to the ground.

Oh, if only she could teleport more than once every couple days. She was already primed to leave, ready to return home to Redstone.

Tomorrow,

she thought.

She hurriedly scanned the shops to her left, signs before doors in a runic language she couldn't read. She realized she didn't need anything, and kept walking towards the inn.

Yes, Talos was likely with the elf. What man wouldn't be? And why else would an elf be at the end of the world?

Tatiana sighed, realizing the inn here in Villjord wouldn't be serving pasta like they did in Redstone. She could really go for some right now. But it was likely fish or stew today, just like it was every night. Mead too, not that she would partake of it.

Would the Jarlinna bring up Tatiana's conversation with her to Talos? She thought it unlikely, finding it a strange topic to come up in passing. Surely they were discussing something other than another reaver raid. She brought a hand to her pack, to ensure her notebooks were still secured.

Shoot!

Tatiana quickly spun around, looking for a black-furred pack she wouldn't find. She knew she had left it at the top of those damned stairs when she had made a hasty retreat from conversation. Tatiana chided herself for her carelessness and grunted with displeasure.

Then Dusk nuzzled his face against her leg, and she felt a bit better. She strolled back towards the pyramid under a foggy sky.

-

The throne room of the Jarlinna of Villjord was not the most pleasant of halls. Blue fire danced atop the room's many torches, blue carpets led any visitors towards the large black throne at the end of the hall. Large tables flanked this carpet, which were currently laid bare due to the early morning hour. Or at least, that's what Talos figured. Six women in white stood at the end of the room, holding spears and small shields with hair pleated. The handmaidens of the Jarlinna, he knew.

He was fortunate that the Jarlinna was still holding court, and doubly fortunate that there were no other subjects requiring her attention at the moment. He stepped forward briskly, Casiama and Sigismund remaining at the back of the hall near the double-doors to freedom. A man in a blue-and-black tunic approached him from beside the crone in the throne, speaking softly in a language he didn't understand with hand outstreched.

"Elvish?" Talos asked with a smirk. The man didn't answer the question directly.

"Your weapons, sir," he said in perfect Elvish, though his words sounded somewhat condescending.

Oh.

Talos shrugged, unbuckling his sword belt to hand to the steward. He then unstrapped his crossbow from his back, then knelt to hand over his boot knife. The steward was already fumbling with the items in his hands before Talos remembered the small knife at his breast, and removed that as well.

It was unnecessary to do so - since the dagger was well-hidden - but Talos found it hilarious to watch the little man struggle. He stepped towards the Jarlinna with a smirk before remembering the gravity of the situation. The steward introduced the crone with a booming voice from behind Talos, again in his language.

"Kneel before Jarlinna Ophalia, First of her Name and protector of the realm."

Talos did so, as he felt there was no harm in the gesture.

"You may rise," Ophalia croaked, looking none too pleased to be resting on her throne at the moment. Talos thought she might keel over at any point now, as she looked positively ancient. He rose to his feet.

"Jarlinna. Your grace," Talos began with a hopefully-appropriate amount of reverence, "I have but a simple warning for you and yours. My companions and I have traveled here directly from a town called Dystval, which had come under attack. Many souls there had perished. The surviving locals had told us it was a reaver attack."

The crone mulled over Talos' warning for a moment, her beady eyes never leaving his face.

"Yes, well. Reaver raids

are

somewhat common on these shores, traveler. Why, I had another southroner speak to me not an hour ago discussing the same occurring in Hvalbarg."

Huh.

Talos had thought them non-existent as of late. Now there had been two attacks? He wondered where Hvalbarg was.

"Jarlinna, this was no ordinary raid. Almost the entire town was aflame, even the ground itself in places. More than half the town had been slaughtered," Talos explained dreadfully. "The people there require your protection, now more than ever."

"Hah! There are thirty-six settlements in the Jarldom of Villjord, traveler. Do you truly expect me to release my troops to protect a town destroyed?" she asked coldly.

Talos frowned. "Are you not the protector of the realm?" he asked, one of the blonde handmaidens beside the Jarlinna immediately stepping towards him with spear raised and eyebrows lowered.

Talos didn't budge at the attempt at intimidation, and the Jarlinna put up a hand to stop the handmaiden. Sigismund and Casiama had hands on their weapons at the far end of the hall as well, and they too halted their progress at the Jarlinna's command.

"Tell me, traveler," the Jarlinna continued, her voice now just a pinch warmer, "did the townspeople mention a flag with... what was it, Ortvar?"

"A cross of red axes over a black flag, Jarlinna."

"Yes. Did they mention this?"

Talos shrugged, not knowing the answer on hand. But he knew how to get an answer, and glanced towards Casiama at the end of the hall. The elf nodded once, accepting the unspoken order. She stepped out of the throne room a moment later with a hand already reaching for her pack.

"I'm not sure, Jarlinna."

-

"Hello Silvia," Casiama greeted a sorceress a hundred miles away, holding a blue-and-white stone in the palm of her hand.

"Hey Cass! How are things going there?" a more-than-chipper Silvia greeted back from behind the farcaster. Casiama glanced around, ensuring no one was in ear-shot. Talos had ordered her to keep the stone a secret while in the city.

"Fine. Can you ask one of the townspeople if they saw a... uh..." Casiama squinted to remember, "red and black flags on the reaver ships, during the attack?"

Silvia giggled. "No!" she wailed suddenly, before clearing her throat and responding to the elf with calm. "Sorry, Cass. Yes, that matches what they have said. Two red axes over a black flag."

"Thanks." Casiama pushed a bit of magic into the stone, terminating the farcaster's magic.

>>

"You're welcome! How's Talos doing?" Silvia asked no one.

"Come on, tell her!" Markus exclaimed. Silvia giggled again, then realized that Casiama had cut her off early when she didn't respond after a moment. Silvia would need to teach the elf proper long-distance communique protocol, she knew.