Observations of a Stranger

[Aeron Ktrenna]

Nearly a week had passed since Aeron's first study of the inne and its patrons from a distance. An up close and personal scrutiny had not been precisely what one might call fruitful. The patrons who frequented the common room were distant, aloof in a way she had not anticipated. Granted, she was not exactly known for her outgoing and sparkling personality, but even Aeron had been civil to the customers who had frequented her own inne. Actually, with practice, she'd become rather a damn fine host; there had been many a night, their common room had been packed with revelers. So the inne had served a dual purpose, the true motives in having such an establishment, not made common knowledge. But still.

One thing Aeron had grown accustomed to, and obviously taken for granted was respect. It was a bit of a rude awakening, for in her own lands, she'd commanded a rather full measure of it, even from those who only knew her name. But, she'd always believed respect was a thing earned, not freely given away as if it had no meaning whatsoever. She could deal with earning it in these lands, but time, time was slipping through her fingers like the proverbial sands of the hourglass. What had rankled her so, was being utterly ignored by a blind woman. Now that, was definitely not a thing she was used to dealing with. Aeron was, unfailingly polite, a habit picked up along with the art of diplomacy and mediation. Rather than remain at the inne after being so obviously ignored, despite her polite tone, she'd left the building and returned to her makeshift camp to think. Temper might have gotten the better of her in that moment, only because her need weighed so heavily on her shoulders, pressing down with all the fury of a thousand screaming demons. The massive male she'd spoken with previously, might be able to help her, but only if he were so inclined. The only other person she'd spoken with, had been the barmaid, and briefly at that. This venture was not going well by any means, not thus far. But, out of all the lands she had jumped to, this one showed the most promise yet for finding the information she so desperately needed.

First and foremost, she needed a place to stay, and the inne was not an option. That notion had been immediately dismissed, for Aeron both deeply valued and needed her privacy. There was also the matter of a horse, for traveling on foot took far too long to her mind.
Secreted away in the woods, hidden and buried inside the scorched and burned out shell of a large tree, was her pouch of jewels and gold coins. The coins might have no meaning in these lands, but gold was gold, no matter where one traveled. She had not yet been to any land where the yellow flash of gold did not ignite a look of longing in someone's eye. Wisely, she took only some of this horde with her, enough to buy what she needed, and extra to convert into currency to show she was quite serious about purchasing a property. It was perhaps a third of all of she carried with her, but more than enough, judging by the currency she'd seen changing hands at the inne. At least she had learned that much while there. The time she had spent at the inne had not been a total loss. The hiding place was not unguarded either, a very cleverly concealed trap had been rigged up, just in case. It involved a dagger balanced on a tight spring, taken from one of her wrist sheathes, and a rather painful death for an unwary thief. Many a trap had she set over the years, mostly for the vicious inhabitants of the hostile mountain range Aeron had called home. Such lessons, and no doubt others, would come in handy now.

Satisfied, Aeron turned and headed off, moving in the direction of the inne, though she'd bypass it, and make straight for town. Judging by the conversations she'd heard while visiting the marketplace the other day, finding a horse would not be a problem. Finding a good mount might be. Logically, the local blacksmith could probably point her in the right direction.

[Mabon Darkfall]

His travels had led him back to the familiar realm of Myrken Wood...A stop at the quiet lakeside cottage that served as his private sanctuary....the place where Fate had drawn him again to encounter the past...

Steps drawn onto the outer porch of the Dagger...a pause as he ran a pale hand through dark hair...the gesture familiar to those who knew him....ebon eyes ever watchful of that which surrounded him...A smile lit his pale features as he turned and made his way into the main room....a table chosen which allowed him to enjoy his favorite past-time....observation....

Slender hands settled to the tabletop as he relaxed against his seat...dark eyes surveying the occupants of the tavern....many had already been previous objects of his watchful nature....This day found a few newcomers who in the passage of time gained his attentions....

[Aeron Ktrenna]

The tavern loomed up ahead, on her right, Aeron skirting the edge of the woods, returning from her foray in purchasing. Mounted now on a reasonably decent horse, she was just starting to get accustomed to his stride, and felt comfortable enough to enjoy the passing scenery. The animal was just barely six years, had not yet picked up any bad habits, and seemed intelligent, with a touch of high-spiritedness to him. Just the way she liked her horses.

It was by chance, or maybe fate, she glanced over toward the building, specifically the porch. She caught the full frontal view of the male just before he turned aside and entered the common room. A snort from the beast as he was pulled up short and sharp; Aeron simply stared at the empty porch for a long time.
It had been years, more years than she could recall, but the woman could have sworn she knew that man. The gelding stomped the ground with an impatient hoof, Aeron ignored him, focused mentally on searching back to a time when politics be damned, night was the embodiment of grace, and immortals walked through decadent gardens of lavish design.
A face from that time, and the name came to her mind as she searched deeper. Could it be? All things are possible, and immortal lives span not only centuries but many lands as well. It was not inconceivable she could run into those she'd know from other places, other times.

For a long while, Aeron simply sat upon the back of an impatient horse, staring at an empty spot on a deserted porch, pondering the possibility.

[Mabon Darkfall]

A tap of his fingertip against the worn wood of the tabletop as his attention wandered....strangers having been studied and noted for interest...barely perceptible quirks filed away for future use...should an opportunity arise....

Slow sweep of his dark gaze as he rouses himself from his seat an incline of his head offered Pritchard as he slipped past the bar and settled a pair of coins thereon in payment....His steps drawing him across the room and out the door onto the porch again....a slight pause there before he slips down to the foot of the worn path....

His steps halted there as he took in the details of the figure upon the horse....The smile that found its way to him reflected his amazement at the strange twists that Fate continued to play upon his existence.....

[Aeron Ktrenna]

So. It was him, Mabon Darkfall. A ghost from a past nearly forgotten, or perhaps, placed on a shelf somewhere in a dark and dusty corner of her mind. No matter how many places and dimensions one journeyed through, it seemed they were all indeed, connected in some obscure way. Or maybe the travellers themselves were all connected by some unseen strand of fate.
Aeron however, did not believe in fate, not anymore. She believed one choose one's own path, carved out one's own fate; she denied she was subject to the whim and will of such a fickle creature. Fate and destiny were both seized by the throat and conquered, for all her life had become just one more strategy to plan and carry out.
The answering smile came slowly, as if her facial muscles had forgotten how to form an expression of warmth for another being. A light nudge of her heels pushed the impatient beast forward, and she walked down to meet an old friend, one not forgotten, but one she had not thought about in many, many long years.

Neither had aged, not really, not in the physical sense. Immortals bear the weight of their years differently than mortals do. They carry it in ways not all that dissimilar to a pack, at times heavier than one could comprehend, at others lighter than it might seem it has a right to be. The horse was halted perhaps fifteen feet from the porch, and despite the inclement weather, Aeron pushed back the hood of her cloak, let it fall to her shoulders. When she spoke, it was in the same, soft tones she'd always used, her voice edged with a light accent one could not truly define or categorize.

"Mabon." Her smile widended, deepened and reached all the way up to her eyes now. "It would seem we have come full circle, would it not?"