hanging on by the rings around my eyes
Ivy was really sick of this shit.
Sure, the fight had been fun, she could never be sick of those. It was the fighting-for-her-life part she was sick of. She'd been at it for months now, and of course it took its toll, but there was no other option. That angry presence that had dug itself into the land had taken so fucking much, like a disease, would not be done with this place until it had everything and she couldn't let it go on. Trying to fight it was her life now. Time and again, she found a hope spot that got ripped away, but she wouldn't stop looking until either she found one that she could hold onto or she was dead.
She had thought this was one of those hope spots.
The ragtag party had done better than others, but clearly they weren't on the same page with her and everything had gone sour. It just felt like nobody had been fucking listening. She didn't trust them, and they didn't trust her. And her helmet was cracked into pieces now; the blacksmith here was great, but she doubted he could fix it.
"Hey, Leo." There's no other customers here right now, so she knocks on the doorframe (there's no door in it) and strolls right in. The forge is blazing hot and the workshop is cluttered; a young cream-colored tabaxi is hammering away at something red-hot on an anvil. He douses it when he hears her arrive, and pulls his smoked-glass goggles up.
"Hello, Your Highness. Need something, or just here to say hi?" He smiles, still a little bit aloof as usual for tabaxi.
"Can you do anything with this?" She passes him the pieces of her helmet.
"Oof. What happened?"
"Oh, you know. The usual."
Leo lets out a long sigh of breath, scratching the base of one ear. "I hate to say this but I don't think I can fix it. I can whip you up one like it, if that's something you want."
"That'd be nice. Thanks."
"Awesome. I'll let you know when it'll be done." Ivy gives him a two-finger salute and goes back out into the street. It's quiet out here. She basks in the calming roar of the waterfall and the glow of the fireflies, leans back against the wall of Leo's shop. She likes this town, but gods, did it ever take her a while to find it. It's been an on-again, off-again safe harbor for four months now. She's done her best to lie low here; the Blind Hound has been more than accommodating to her in that regard, and others.
She's spent probably way too much time in the bar.
But it helps her cope.
As she's musing about all this out here, feeling like she's waiting for... something, there's a faint pop. She scarcely has time to react before a familiar face smothers her in a hug, even over her suit of samurai armor.
"Auntie Kris?"
The figure is skeletal, a bony but incredibly excited face under a shaggy teal bob of hair. The clasp of her cloak - tattered at the edge, like it's very old - is a pentagram-shaped locket, and a thick blue scarf conceals the bare vertebrae in her neck, held together by little more than malign magic. "Ivy! Gods, it's good to see you again, I thought you were dead!"
Ivy can't help but smile. "A lot of people have tried, but here I am. Not all in one piece anymore." She taps her left knee, and there's a hollow noise. All but a foot-long stump of her thigh is a prosthetic. The pain in the stump has settled to a dull ache by now, but at the time it hurt far beyond description. Even worse, she'd had to climb up the side of the mountain by herself to get back here, nearly passing out or stopping from exhaustion too many times to count. It had been a rough couple days spent in bed since then, first recovering from pain and shock and then hobbling with a crutch until she could get the prosthetic leg. She'd only just gotten back to normal the day before yesterday.
(She'd drank a lot, to block out the physical pain and the betrayal. Another adventuring companion dragged into the cycle of violence.)
"I'm sorry. About everything. I wish I could have done more to help."
"Don't blame yourself. Please." Ivy hugs her again. "You're doing the best you can. We all are. I'm sure you're researching your heart out."
"I've gotten some help today." Kris beams. "Did you hear about the people that killed a corrupted cult member?"
"I'm... acquainted with some of them, yes."
"We figured out the source might be an aberration! There's a few of them that are quite sweet, I hope you get to meet them."
"That's great." Ivy can't smile this time; it feels too fake. Aberrations are bad news, and she doubts these people will ever be interested in talking to her again. (She should probably take some more time to recover before going back out in earnest. She's not built like that. Three days will be enough. It has to be enough.)
"I should get back to work, but I'm so glad you're safe." Kris gives her one last hug, and then turns away briefly before departing with another faint pop.
"Your Majesty, may I request a few minutes of your time?"
Ivy almost jumps out of her skin, she's so startled. Pulse racing, she takes a moment to compose herself and examine whoever the hell just walked up to talk to her. They have long, long, straight black hair (even colorblind, she knows it's black, the same as hers), with a pair of small horns poking through straight-cut bangs. (A tiefling, then.) Black or nearly black simple clothes, a light overcoat and even lighter pale robes, hooded and billowing at the sleeves. There's a little pauldron that they've angled to be clearly visible; she recognizes the insignia of the Sacred Hearts, the same monastic order that trained her sister Betsy. Most interesting of all, their right hand is far past normal size. It looks like it's not flesh, but something else. Rock, maybe? That's weird.
But they're bowing to her pretty deeply. No matter how weird they may be, someone clearly taught them manners.
"Oh, sorry, I wasn't expecting you. It's been a long day."
"My sincere apologies." Their voice is feminine, mid-range and mellow and level, nearly deadpan but not sarcastic, and she recognizes the light Chenosan accent. They've traveled a very long way from home indeed. (The same place as Betsy's kensei master, in fact, which is quite a wild coincidence.) "If you wish to spar with me to ascertain that I'm trustworthy, I won't object and it would be my honor. However I understand that you were sparring with others quite recently, and my intentions are not to force your hand."
They've definitely learned the art of diplomacy, too. Ivy might be more informal these days, but she still appreciates the respect from strangers.
That's not the first thing on her mind right now.
"...Who are you, and how do you know this?"
(She's not mad, exactly, just surprised and maybe a little annoyed.)
"Kanamori Sayaka, of the Order of the Sacred Hearts." A name is a good start. She remembers the last-name-first conventions in Chenosa, now. "You had been sparring with my... companions. I wondered where they had been upon their return to the library. Please rest assured I do not share their perspective, and in fact I believe their account as they told it to me to be quite skewed."
"Oh, you're with them? Did they send you to mock me some more and kick a woman while she's down?" Ivy's tone darkens with derision and cynicism. She wouldn't put it past those assholes to do that in an effort to convince her their perspective was superior. Her hand twitches towards the scabbard at her hip; she's not above defending herself, if the girl really is here for that.
"I came of my own volition." Her voice drops in volume a little. Ivy can't help but consider the possibility that she's intimidated, but this girl's got guts, and spine. Somehow she doubts anyone could intimidate her. "From an outside perspective, I judged their telling to be incorrect. Your duel was proposed in honor, not malice."
She pauses for a moment. It's then that Ivy knows she's telling the truth, that she's running no one's petty errand. It feels like she can... trust her.
(This attitude has bitten her plenty of times before, but this time feels different. If she can understand that Ivy started things with honor from whatever biased story those other four spun for her, then she holds that particular ideal in high regard herself.)
"Their attitudes so appalled me that I had hoped to hear your perspective, as a superior and wiser warrior than myself. I understand if you would prefer I leave your presence entirely instead." Damn, she's good. There's no way to miss that this girl just buttered her up, and gave her an opening to excuse her with prejudice.
She's right, of course. Ivy's good and she knows it. She has no idea what this girl can do.
It's at this moment that Leo pops his head out of the workshop, looking for all the world like a bucket of soot has fallen on him. There's clean rings of fur around his eyes. "That'll be ready for you in the morning, Your Highness."
"Thanks, Leo. You're a lifesaver."
"Anytime." He flashes her a much toothier smile before getting back to work.
Now about this tiefling girl. She doesn't want to dismiss her; in fact, she thinks she wants to sit and talk with her some more. There's something intriguingly familiar about her, something that is putting her at ease. "Is it alright if I buy you a drink? I'm not comfortable talking about this out in the open." Almost as soon as it's out of her mouth, she thinks maybe she shouldn't have offered at all. "Oh - sorry, was I overstepping?"
"On the contrary." The girl straightens up and Ivy's stomach does a weird swoop-y thing, like she just jumped from a height. Her eyes are pale in her dark-skinned face like big stars, or open lanterns. "I would be honored."
Ivy sighs with relief, then, and mutters a little to herself in Elvish. "Alright. Follow me."