Kirkwall felt lighter today. Of course, it was because one of her friends had returned—the lovely little flower, Aurora. She huffed impatiently, slipping through the narrow alleys as if she were a stray cat returning home; all giddy excitement, untempered energy. She hadn't known of her immediate return, so she'd missed the welcoming party, but hopefully she'd be home now. In retrospect, she supposed she'd never actually missed friends before, since she was always the one walking away. And now, she had a home, with people she cared about, and whenever they left (for however long), she wanted to see their faces again; as soon as possible. This was no different. Besides, she wanted to see how this flower had grown. And if she'd seen anything on her travels. She wanted to hear her stories.
She dipped underneath a hanging tarpaulin flapping in the wind. Red was Kirkwall's color, red as her hair. Unusual color. One that she'd never seen before in her youth; both with the Qunari and what she remembered from the Dalish clan, whose name still eluded her. Pretty color, she thought. Hopping down the steps like a child, Sparrow neared her destination and bubbled with the temptation to simply throw open the door and greet her in the most boorish way possible. Instead, she cleared her throat and rolled her eyes skyward, waited a few seconds and rapped her knuckles on the door; always louder than was necessary, and harder, by far.
A glib smile played on her face, and her arms twitched at her sides, ready to be thrown into a rib-squeezing hug. She didn't call out, for fear of ruining the surprise. It was always better to be pleasantly surprised, then to expect things—at least, in her experience. Much like how Rilien operated. He might do things in an orderly fashion, but he still managed to confound her. Strange how much she'd changed over the years, where something as simple as seeing someone's face would make her this happy. If home were ever described as a feeling... she supposed it would feel something like this. A mass of moments, rumpled together.
On the other side of the door, Aurora laid on the floor, a film of sweat glistening from her brow. Her fingers were interlocked behind her head and she pulled herself to her knees, "Seventy-three," she said, counting her sit-ups aloud. She'd peeled away heavier clothing and wore instead a simple light shirt with matching pants, something that she could work up a sweat in without ruining. It was part of her routine she'd adopted, to work out whenever she had a free moment, and since Kirkwall was quiet as of late, she'd found a lot of those. A strong body led to a strong mind led to a strong spirit after all.
Since her return to Kirkwall, she learned a few things. For one, Nostariel and Ashton were an item. Second, Lucien and Sophia were too-- which was a bit more surprising honestly. Still, she was happy for them all, and thought they all made adorable couples. Other than that, the clean up after the Qunari attack had gone smooth, and though there was still evidence of it, most of it had been patched away. There was still the lingering presence of Templars, more so than it had been, but years spent skirting around them had taught her how to stay out of their way and it wasn't anything she couldn't cope with.
Aurora was still in the process of catching up with everyone since her departure, and she'd find the time for it in the coming weeks. There was still a good many things she had to do. Among those things, she still had to repay Rilien back for his loan, and check on the Embrium she left in Lucien's hand. But all in good time, right now, she had to reach one-hundred.
She'd gotten to eighty-five before a knocking echoed through her small house. She paused her exercise to just stare at the door, wondering who it was that came calling. It could've been anyone really, but judging by how loud the knocking was, she had a few ideas. Pulling herself to her feet, she grabbed the cloth that was on the back of a chair and threw it over her shoulders, and moved to the door. She pulled it open and beheld the culprit.
"Sparrow?"
Sparrow wasted no time in wrapping her arms around the shorter woman's shoulders, and only noticed then, that her light shirt stuck to her back—sweat? Had she just taken a bath? Sparrow pulled back a few inches and studied Aurora's face, eyes scrunched critically until it dawned on her that she might've been interrupting something important. Something intimate, perhaps? Her mind, as always, drifted off like a lewd ship sailing for the Blooming Rose, and her murky eyes drifted over the woman's fiery hair, seeking out any naked interlopers.
None. Well, Aurora was dressed and had, indeed, answered the door. She blinked once, then twice, and laughed gaudily at herself. She'd nearly forgotten about Amalia's tutelage. To think that her once-friend could actually teach—or, perhaps, it wasn't so surprising after all.
Hardly remembering that she was invading someone's space, holding them by the shoulders and staring at them as if to absorb their wayward journeys, Sparrow pursed her lips and smiled wide; a pleased shark. Or someone who'd missed a dear friend. “Aurora,” she greeted with a twinkle in her eyes, dipping her head to perch a kiss on her brow, heedless as she'd been on the docks.
Her affections tended to burst, unchecked. But hadn't it been a long time since she'd seen this lovely bird? She'd taken good care of her gardens in the Alienage, and she'd missed the welcoming party at the docks as well. An unwelcome visit was in order, even if she was busy. Sparrow was not one in the habit of asking for an invitation, she merely stood with an energy that was slowly unravelling, uncoiling from her shoulders; asking impolitely to let her in.
“How've you been? What've you seen? I want to hear everything.” She chirped as she finally released her shoulders, stepping back to rub at her chin, as if to mock-scrutinize some kind of magical change in her character. Aurora certainly seemed stronger; coloured with something she could not yet put her finger on. A flavour of growth only travels and closure could bring. She did not doubt that she'd had both in strides, on her journey across the way, and she wanted to hear all about it. “Sorry I missed the welcome wagon, but you'll be pleased to know that I haven't killed all your plants.”
"You didn't miss much, it wasn't a huge wagon. I just sailed into the harbor with my things," Aurora said, simply moving out of the way to let Sparrow in. If she didn't then she was worried the woman might literally pop from excitement. And she did, in a sense. Aurora was expecting the flurry of questions with a smirk and was hardly surprised when they flew from her mouth. "I knew you were the right person to trust with my garden," she said teasingly batting a lock of Sparrow's hair as she slipped by. She played coy and hesitated in answering Sparrow's question, keeping them behind a pair of tightly coiled lips.
She dabbed her forehead with the cloth resting on her shoulders and made her way to a chair in her humble little "parlor." "In order," she began, listing them off with her fingers. "I've been feeling better, thanks for asking," one finger, "I've seen a lot of things. Antiva City is big, so can't really go too far without seeing something wonderful," Another teasing grin and another finger down, "And that's going to take awhile. I was gone for a couple of months, that's a more than an afternoon's worth," she said with a laugh and putting her hand down.
Aurora leaned back in her chair and looked at her ceiling, wondering even where to begin, or even how. Her gaze then fell onto Sparrow, and she remembered something she told her a long time ago. "Remember that time in the Necromancer's lair? The one trying to reanimate his wife?" She left it at, since it wasn't an experience forgot all that easily. She shuddered even thinking about it. "You asked me to teach you how to do this?" She said, holding up her hand, which was now crackling with electricity from the fade. "Tell you what," she said, killing the small display of magic as quickly as she summoned it, "Let's get out of here, I've got somewhere I want to show you. And on the way, I'll tell about Antiva?" she asked, rising.
Didn't miss much? She doubted that. Sparrow pursed her lips again, arching her eyebrows higher, burgeoning on the edge of bursting out with many more questions. One did not simply travel without getting into a little bit of trouble, and while Aurora might've been a smidgen more innocent than she, surely she'd seen some interesting things. It was Antiva, after all. Unfortunately she'd never had the pleasure of visiting it before, so her excitement showed through her jittery impatience, tensed and strained as if she would pounce into her home. Her grin simpered a little. Of course, she'd taken great care of the gardens. It'd been a duty she was glad to have—better than keeping herself stuffed behind closed doors, tiptoeing around Rilien like their conversations would shatter a world's worth of her most recent thoughts.
She nearly danced into Aurora's home. Nosey as ever, she feigned disinterest as she peered into different chambers along the way. It occurred to her that she'd never actually set foot into the woman's home, even if they lived in such close proximity. As soon as they reached their destination, Sparrow plopped down in a chair and hunkered forward, clutching onto her every word; elbows propped on her knees, and chin perched across her steepled hands. What were these wonderful things? Beautiful long-lashed women, bedecked in silk finery; big bosoms. The only tales she'd heard about Antiva, and its citizens, were from passing sailors, and usually, their stories tended to be far more lewd and exaggerated than they actually were. Aurora hardly seemed the type. “You've got my rapt attention, pretty flower.”
Suddenly, the conversation shifted, and Sparrow cocked her head to the side, finally nodding. Her memory was a mishmash of what she wished to remember, and tended to walk the same lines as the sailors. This, however, she remembered vividly. Who wouldn't? It wasn't everyday that someone stumbled onto a Necromancer's lair. Or someone so twisted. She remembered the smell, and how sick she felt afterwards. The brief flicker of solemness disappeared as soon as electricity danced along her fingertips, circling around her hand. Controlled, disciplined. Unlike her own meagre attempts; only working half the time, coming out in childish spurts. She was made up of violence. Smashing things up and setting things on fire was hardly subtle. “I'm surprised—even I'd forgotten.”
Sparrow straightened her shoulders and vaulted from the chair, nearly dragging Aurora out the door. “Of course. Let's go, let's go. Tell me everything!”
And she'd brought them to Sundermount. A particular patch she did not recognize, which meant it was a secret alcove—shared with her, as well. Just like the place she and Amalia had been along the Wounded Coast. Pleased as coddled feline at the imagined prospects, Sparrow stretched her arms over her head and surveyed the area. Trees spotted here and there, and she could hear the sounds of running water. If she'd ever chosen the life of a hermit, she supposed she'd have chosen something like this. She clapped her hands together and turned on her heels, eyes bright and expectant.
"Antiva City was my first stop," Aurora began, as promised. "It's a booming trade city, it wasn't hard to find a ship to take me. I spent a few days there." Thanks to the sovereigns Rilien had loaned her, she was able afford room and board at a local inn, as well paying the innkeep to look over the brand on Milly's forehead. "I... Sent Milly to the circle. There were people there that would remember her, and care for her much better than I could. I was a wreck after that," she sighed. She still felt the pangs whenever she thought of Milly, and the memory of the sunburst always accompanied every thought.
"I didn't spend much more time there," She said, looking at Sparrow. She hadn't wished to spend her time alone lingering in the city with the pain still so fresh. "I chartered another ship to Bastion-- home. It's smaller than Antiva City, but no less beautiful in my eyes." She continued to relay the story. She told of hunting down her father's trading business, only to find that they had become more prominent, and was run by her brother now instead of her father, having retired himself. She talked about how awkward the initial reunion was with her sister, and how they just cried after realizing she made it home. It wasn't long until there wasn't a dry face in the entire house.
"Their flower garden had grown since the last I saw it," Almost the entire hillside on which their house was built was covered in flowers of all colors, shapes, and sizes. "It rains all the time in Antiva, but the flowers are always in bloom." She said wistfully, a smile on her lips. She continued to talk about her time from there. How they kept her room the same since she left, how wealthy they'd grown, just how happy she was to be back. A few months later, she revealed, that she finally returned to Antiva City, this time with her parents and her youngest sister. "They... Dressed me up. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not too big on dresses, but they put me in one anyway. It was the most fun I remember having putting on clothes." A laugh escaped her lips.
She paused for a moment, pressing her tongue into her cheek and thought. "When I left again, there was more crying. But it was happier this time. They knew I was okay, and I knew they didn't forget me. They asked me to take care, and to write them whenever I have the chance... I plan on sending the letter off tomorrow," She revealed with a wide smile.
"And here we are," Aurora said, stepping into the clearing that Nostariel had set up. "So far, only Nosta, you, and I know about this place," She said with a coy finger placed on her lips. "As she told me, there is no place to practice our magic in the city, but this isn't the city, and it's away from anyone that would see us in the Circle. A perfect place to teach," She said, raising her fist again, this time enveloping it in stone.
"Want to begin?"
Antiva City—the city of splendour and beauty and all of the things she used to slaver after in her glory days, selfishly bouncing from city to city in search of ways to find herself. Whether it was in someone's lap, in some gaudy brothel, or in a dishevelled tavern surrounded by men with bristly beards and pirate-garb, Sparrow had many misadventures in many cities, but had missed out on Antiva. She maintained an expression of giddy excitement and prying curiosity as she spoke, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she waited for the juicy details to come pouring out. She still remembered the original circumstances for such a journey and dampened slightly, wringing her hands together when Milly was mentioned. She wanted to reach out for her hands, to give a quick squeeze, but only scrunched her eyebrows together. Had she known Rilien then...
She bobbed her head and inched a little closer to her. Understandable. It was for the best, but being so close to the Circle and not being able to do anything for her would have driven her mad—had positions been reversed, she wouldn't have known what to do. How to react or even if she would have been selfless enough to think of Milly, or Rilien, instead of clinging to them and keeping them nearby. Aurora was by no means a selfish creature, but Sparrow was like the bird she claimed as a name; clinging to priceless baubles and gems just as hard as she clung onto the people in her life. Now, Bastion. She'd never heard of the city before, but if it was anything like Antiva City, and if Aurora said it was just as beautiful, she had no doubts that she was right. She smiled and grew dewy-eyed as Aurora told her of her family reunion, grinning wildly soon after and clapping her on the back as a late celebration.
Closing her eyes to imagine the hillside she spoke of, ripe with flowers of all colours and sizes, Sparrow smiled and sighed. She could almost smell them. Having been tending to the garden in the Alienage for as long as she did, her senses came easily. Dirt under her nails, the grit and earthy muck staining her hands, and the sweet, distinct scents. “Yours will look like that in no time,” she cooed, snapping her eyes open. “I'd like to see that. Sounds beautiful there, not so with the places me and Am used to live.” Dry sticks and long expanses of grass, always travelling and being shipped off to try their hands at specific jobs. Children did not grow up in gardens or tight-knit families, so the nights they spent under the stars, bundled together like thieves, were the best memories she could recall of her childhood. “Lovely sight, I bet. I wish I could've seen.” She clucked her tongue, blunt as ever.
Family. She supposed this was what it was like. Filled with letters flying back and forth and well-wishes; visits and crying and holding each other until you felt warm and at home again. Hearing about it from a friend was enough, instead of fantasying about it on her own. It gave her hope, even if she considered her companions as close to family as she could get. “I'm glad everything went well. And you'll have to send our greetings, too. We missed you.”
“Oh?” She rubbed her chin, trying to wheedle the pleasure from her face. It was almost like a secret gift—almost like showing the caves to Rilien and having him say that it was a pleasant find, or that she'd done well. However she'd composed his words in her mind. Rightly so, not that she'd ever been too worried about Templars or being dragged down to the Gallows (as she should have been). This place was a convenience mages could afford to take advantage of, especially since the recent activity of Templars in the city. She, too, stepped into the clearing and shrugged her shoulders, stretching out the muscles there, before holding out both hands in front of her.
“Yes.”
She dipped underneath a hanging tarpaulin flapping in the wind. Red was Kirkwall's color, red as her hair. Unusual color. One that she'd never seen before in her youth; both with the Qunari and what she remembered from the Dalish clan, whose name still eluded her. Pretty color, she thought. Hopping down the steps like a child, Sparrow neared her destination and bubbled with the temptation to simply throw open the door and greet her in the most boorish way possible. Instead, she cleared her throat and rolled her eyes skyward, waited a few seconds and rapped her knuckles on the door; always louder than was necessary, and harder, by far.
A glib smile played on her face, and her arms twitched at her sides, ready to be thrown into a rib-squeezing hug. She didn't call out, for fear of ruining the surprise. It was always better to be pleasantly surprised, then to expect things—at least, in her experience. Much like how Rilien operated. He might do things in an orderly fashion, but he still managed to confound her. Strange how much she'd changed over the years, where something as simple as seeing someone's face would make her this happy. If home were ever described as a feeling... she supposed it would feel something like this. A mass of moments, rumpled together.
On the other side of the door, Aurora laid on the floor, a film of sweat glistening from her brow. Her fingers were interlocked behind her head and she pulled herself to her knees, "Seventy-three," she said, counting her sit-ups aloud. She'd peeled away heavier clothing and wore instead a simple light shirt with matching pants, something that she could work up a sweat in without ruining. It was part of her routine she'd adopted, to work out whenever she had a free moment, and since Kirkwall was quiet as of late, she'd found a lot of those. A strong body led to a strong mind led to a strong spirit after all.
Since her return to Kirkwall, she learned a few things. For one, Nostariel and Ashton were an item. Second, Lucien and Sophia were too-- which was a bit more surprising honestly. Still, she was happy for them all, and thought they all made adorable couples. Other than that, the clean up after the Qunari attack had gone smooth, and though there was still evidence of it, most of it had been patched away. There was still the lingering presence of Templars, more so than it had been, but years spent skirting around them had taught her how to stay out of their way and it wasn't anything she couldn't cope with.
Aurora was still in the process of catching up with everyone since her departure, and she'd find the time for it in the coming weeks. There was still a good many things she had to do. Among those things, she still had to repay Rilien back for his loan, and check on the Embrium she left in Lucien's hand. But all in good time, right now, she had to reach one-hundred.
She'd gotten to eighty-five before a knocking echoed through her small house. She paused her exercise to just stare at the door, wondering who it was that came calling. It could've been anyone really, but judging by how loud the knocking was, she had a few ideas. Pulling herself to her feet, she grabbed the cloth that was on the back of a chair and threw it over her shoulders, and moved to the door. She pulled it open and beheld the culprit.
"Sparrow?"
Sparrow wasted no time in wrapping her arms around the shorter woman's shoulders, and only noticed then, that her light shirt stuck to her back—sweat? Had she just taken a bath? Sparrow pulled back a few inches and studied Aurora's face, eyes scrunched critically until it dawned on her that she might've been interrupting something important. Something intimate, perhaps? Her mind, as always, drifted off like a lewd ship sailing for the Blooming Rose, and her murky eyes drifted over the woman's fiery hair, seeking out any naked interlopers.
None. Well, Aurora was dressed and had, indeed, answered the door. She blinked once, then twice, and laughed gaudily at herself. She'd nearly forgotten about Amalia's tutelage. To think that her once-friend could actually teach—or, perhaps, it wasn't so surprising after all.
Hardly remembering that she was invading someone's space, holding them by the shoulders and staring at them as if to absorb their wayward journeys, Sparrow pursed her lips and smiled wide; a pleased shark. Or someone who'd missed a dear friend. “Aurora,” she greeted with a twinkle in her eyes, dipping her head to perch a kiss on her brow, heedless as she'd been on the docks.
Her affections tended to burst, unchecked. But hadn't it been a long time since she'd seen this lovely bird? She'd taken good care of her gardens in the Alienage, and she'd missed the welcoming party at the docks as well. An unwelcome visit was in order, even if she was busy. Sparrow was not one in the habit of asking for an invitation, she merely stood with an energy that was slowly unravelling, uncoiling from her shoulders; asking impolitely to let her in.
“How've you been? What've you seen? I want to hear everything.” She chirped as she finally released her shoulders, stepping back to rub at her chin, as if to mock-scrutinize some kind of magical change in her character. Aurora certainly seemed stronger; coloured with something she could not yet put her finger on. A flavour of growth only travels and closure could bring. She did not doubt that she'd had both in strides, on her journey across the way, and she wanted to hear all about it. “Sorry I missed the welcome wagon, but you'll be pleased to know that I haven't killed all your plants.”
"You didn't miss much, it wasn't a huge wagon. I just sailed into the harbor with my things," Aurora said, simply moving out of the way to let Sparrow in. If she didn't then she was worried the woman might literally pop from excitement. And she did, in a sense. Aurora was expecting the flurry of questions with a smirk and was hardly surprised when they flew from her mouth. "I knew you were the right person to trust with my garden," she said teasingly batting a lock of Sparrow's hair as she slipped by. She played coy and hesitated in answering Sparrow's question, keeping them behind a pair of tightly coiled lips.
She dabbed her forehead with the cloth resting on her shoulders and made her way to a chair in her humble little "parlor." "In order," she began, listing them off with her fingers. "I've been feeling better, thanks for asking," one finger, "I've seen a lot of things. Antiva City is big, so can't really go too far without seeing something wonderful," Another teasing grin and another finger down, "And that's going to take awhile. I was gone for a couple of months, that's a more than an afternoon's worth," she said with a laugh and putting her hand down.
Aurora leaned back in her chair and looked at her ceiling, wondering even where to begin, or even how. Her gaze then fell onto Sparrow, and she remembered something she told her a long time ago. "Remember that time in the Necromancer's lair? The one trying to reanimate his wife?" She left it at, since it wasn't an experience forgot all that easily. She shuddered even thinking about it. "You asked me to teach you how to do this?" She said, holding up her hand, which was now crackling with electricity from the fade. "Tell you what," she said, killing the small display of magic as quickly as she summoned it, "Let's get out of here, I've got somewhere I want to show you. And on the way, I'll tell about Antiva?" she asked, rising.
Didn't miss much? She doubted that. Sparrow pursed her lips again, arching her eyebrows higher, burgeoning on the edge of bursting out with many more questions. One did not simply travel without getting into a little bit of trouble, and while Aurora might've been a smidgen more innocent than she, surely she'd seen some interesting things. It was Antiva, after all. Unfortunately she'd never had the pleasure of visiting it before, so her excitement showed through her jittery impatience, tensed and strained as if she would pounce into her home. Her grin simpered a little. Of course, she'd taken great care of the gardens. It'd been a duty she was glad to have—better than keeping herself stuffed behind closed doors, tiptoeing around Rilien like their conversations would shatter a world's worth of her most recent thoughts.
She nearly danced into Aurora's home. Nosey as ever, she feigned disinterest as she peered into different chambers along the way. It occurred to her that she'd never actually set foot into the woman's home, even if they lived in such close proximity. As soon as they reached their destination, Sparrow plopped down in a chair and hunkered forward, clutching onto her every word; elbows propped on her knees, and chin perched across her steepled hands. What were these wonderful things? Beautiful long-lashed women, bedecked in silk finery; big bosoms. The only tales she'd heard about Antiva, and its citizens, were from passing sailors, and usually, their stories tended to be far more lewd and exaggerated than they actually were. Aurora hardly seemed the type. “You've got my rapt attention, pretty flower.”
Suddenly, the conversation shifted, and Sparrow cocked her head to the side, finally nodding. Her memory was a mishmash of what she wished to remember, and tended to walk the same lines as the sailors. This, however, she remembered vividly. Who wouldn't? It wasn't everyday that someone stumbled onto a Necromancer's lair. Or someone so twisted. She remembered the smell, and how sick she felt afterwards. The brief flicker of solemness disappeared as soon as electricity danced along her fingertips, circling around her hand. Controlled, disciplined. Unlike her own meagre attempts; only working half the time, coming out in childish spurts. She was made up of violence. Smashing things up and setting things on fire was hardly subtle. “I'm surprised—even I'd forgotten.”
Sparrow straightened her shoulders and vaulted from the chair, nearly dragging Aurora out the door. “Of course. Let's go, let's go. Tell me everything!”
And she'd brought them to Sundermount. A particular patch she did not recognize, which meant it was a secret alcove—shared with her, as well. Just like the place she and Amalia had been along the Wounded Coast. Pleased as coddled feline at the imagined prospects, Sparrow stretched her arms over her head and surveyed the area. Trees spotted here and there, and she could hear the sounds of running water. If she'd ever chosen the life of a hermit, she supposed she'd have chosen something like this. She clapped her hands together and turned on her heels, eyes bright and expectant.
"Antiva City was my first stop," Aurora began, as promised. "It's a booming trade city, it wasn't hard to find a ship to take me. I spent a few days there." Thanks to the sovereigns Rilien had loaned her, she was able afford room and board at a local inn, as well paying the innkeep to look over the brand on Milly's forehead. "I... Sent Milly to the circle. There were people there that would remember her, and care for her much better than I could. I was a wreck after that," she sighed. She still felt the pangs whenever she thought of Milly, and the memory of the sunburst always accompanied every thought.
"I didn't spend much more time there," She said, looking at Sparrow. She hadn't wished to spend her time alone lingering in the city with the pain still so fresh. "I chartered another ship to Bastion-- home. It's smaller than Antiva City, but no less beautiful in my eyes." She continued to relay the story. She told of hunting down her father's trading business, only to find that they had become more prominent, and was run by her brother now instead of her father, having retired himself. She talked about how awkward the initial reunion was with her sister, and how they just cried after realizing she made it home. It wasn't long until there wasn't a dry face in the entire house.
"Their flower garden had grown since the last I saw it," Almost the entire hillside on which their house was built was covered in flowers of all colors, shapes, and sizes. "It rains all the time in Antiva, but the flowers are always in bloom." She said wistfully, a smile on her lips. She continued to talk about her time from there. How they kept her room the same since she left, how wealthy they'd grown, just how happy she was to be back. A few months later, she revealed, that she finally returned to Antiva City, this time with her parents and her youngest sister. "They... Dressed me up. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not too big on dresses, but they put me in one anyway. It was the most fun I remember having putting on clothes." A laugh escaped her lips.
She paused for a moment, pressing her tongue into her cheek and thought. "When I left again, there was more crying. But it was happier this time. They knew I was okay, and I knew they didn't forget me. They asked me to take care, and to write them whenever I have the chance... I plan on sending the letter off tomorrow," She revealed with a wide smile.
"And here we are," Aurora said, stepping into the clearing that Nostariel had set up. "So far, only Nosta, you, and I know about this place," She said with a coy finger placed on her lips. "As she told me, there is no place to practice our magic in the city, but this isn't the city, and it's away from anyone that would see us in the Circle. A perfect place to teach," She said, raising her fist again, this time enveloping it in stone.
"Want to begin?"
Antiva City—the city of splendour and beauty and all of the things she used to slaver after in her glory days, selfishly bouncing from city to city in search of ways to find herself. Whether it was in someone's lap, in some gaudy brothel, or in a dishevelled tavern surrounded by men with bristly beards and pirate-garb, Sparrow had many misadventures in many cities, but had missed out on Antiva. She maintained an expression of giddy excitement and prying curiosity as she spoke, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she waited for the juicy details to come pouring out. She still remembered the original circumstances for such a journey and dampened slightly, wringing her hands together when Milly was mentioned. She wanted to reach out for her hands, to give a quick squeeze, but only scrunched her eyebrows together. Had she known Rilien then...
She bobbed her head and inched a little closer to her. Understandable. It was for the best, but being so close to the Circle and not being able to do anything for her would have driven her mad—had positions been reversed, she wouldn't have known what to do. How to react or even if she would have been selfless enough to think of Milly, or Rilien, instead of clinging to them and keeping them nearby. Aurora was by no means a selfish creature, but Sparrow was like the bird she claimed as a name; clinging to priceless baubles and gems just as hard as she clung onto the people in her life. Now, Bastion. She'd never heard of the city before, but if it was anything like Antiva City, and if Aurora said it was just as beautiful, she had no doubts that she was right. She smiled and grew dewy-eyed as Aurora told her of her family reunion, grinning wildly soon after and clapping her on the back as a late celebration.
Closing her eyes to imagine the hillside she spoke of, ripe with flowers of all colours and sizes, Sparrow smiled and sighed. She could almost smell them. Having been tending to the garden in the Alienage for as long as she did, her senses came easily. Dirt under her nails, the grit and earthy muck staining her hands, and the sweet, distinct scents. “Yours will look like that in no time,” she cooed, snapping her eyes open. “I'd like to see that. Sounds beautiful there, not so with the places me and Am used to live.” Dry sticks and long expanses of grass, always travelling and being shipped off to try their hands at specific jobs. Children did not grow up in gardens or tight-knit families, so the nights they spent under the stars, bundled together like thieves, were the best memories she could recall of her childhood. “Lovely sight, I bet. I wish I could've seen.” She clucked her tongue, blunt as ever.
Family. She supposed this was what it was like. Filled with letters flying back and forth and well-wishes; visits and crying and holding each other until you felt warm and at home again. Hearing about it from a friend was enough, instead of fantasying about it on her own. It gave her hope, even if she considered her companions as close to family as she could get. “I'm glad everything went well. And you'll have to send our greetings, too. We missed you.”
“Oh?” She rubbed her chin, trying to wheedle the pleasure from her face. It was almost like a secret gift—almost like showing the caves to Rilien and having him say that it was a pleasant find, or that she'd done well. However she'd composed his words in her mind. Rightly so, not that she'd ever been too worried about Templars or being dragged down to the Gallows (as she should have been). This place was a convenience mages could afford to take advantage of, especially since the recent activity of Templars in the city. She, too, stepped into the clearing and shrugged her shoulders, stretching out the muscles there, before holding out both hands in front of her.
“Yes.”