EXCOLO

Tuesday Feburuary 9th (day 254)
Just before Dawn
Dana's room at the Whitechapel Inn

Running. Running through corridors and tunnels. Through old faded tapestries and cobwebs and dustsheets. Always running, never slowing or stopping. Can't stop! Oak and ash, I cannot stop! To stop is to get caught and to get caught means never getting out, never being free.

I hear the calls behind me, they are getting closer, I must move faster. Hounds belling and worse, the chime of harness bells and clatter of horses hooves. Above that the ceaseless, remorseless whispers. Telling me it's my turn. That I'm next. They did it, for love the Queen and  the fair Summerlands and now it's my turn. Don't you love Her? Don't you love your home? Don't you love us?

I run faster but  still they follow, still they are catching up, I feel the hot breaths of the horses on my neck. Cu sith nip at my heels, and a hand touches my shoulder; cold as the grave. I know whose hand this is. My sister, gone these last seven years.. Gone to Hell. I duck my shoulder out of her grasp and dart down a new passageway that has just opened up for me. It it short and narrow, I have to bend double under earthen roof and squeeze through on my knees. And still the hounds follow. Tears run down my face and I am gasping for air but still I press onwards.  I reach the end of the tunnel and murmur the charm that opens the door.

It opens! But too slowly, the first of the hounds reaches me and I kick backwards in fear and panic. Tumbling out amid yelps and barks onto the riverbank. I cannot utter the words of the closing charm. A cu sith has pounced upon my chest and I cannot breathe. Cannot utter the words. We grapple and roll like puppies but the fight is deadly earnest. Finally I tear him loose and roll downhill to the water.

Blood soaks my hair and dress;  hot, thick, wet and nearly chocking me. I struggle upright and  a voice, kindly like a favorite aunt or grandmother says, Strip those wet things off, dear.  And hand them over. That's a good girl. My fingers shake as I do as I am bid.  The wind that strikes is cold, burningly so, it cuts through my shift as if said garment was already off. Worse than the wind in the Excolo, this wind is Winter's Breath and it chills me all the way through. I summon fire to me and the hag at my side sucks in her breath and smacks the back of my head so my ears ring.

None o' that me dear! She cries at the top of  her lungs it seems, Don't be wasting your fire on that. Save it for a real emergency! The cold creeps down from my head freezing me in place til I can't feel my toes despite the previous heat of the blood river.  My lungs hitch as the very breath in them freezes solid and I realize I am stuck. A statue of myself. I cannot move and never will again. I  am doomed to stand right here, so near to the freedom I sought  but unable to reach it and unable to die because statues don't die and neither do fae unless the right conditions are met. These are not the right conditions. My last breath sighs out of my lungs and the last tears slide down my unfeeling cheeks. The final darkness closes in on me and I feel despair rise in my heart.

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Early evening
Monday February 1st
Bank above the Pontarlier river


 Oak and Ash, that was close!  I hurry down the deserted corridor heading for a door I hope no one else remembers, or at least is thinking of.  I press my right hand firmly against the blank wall in front of me and mutter the opening charm under my breath, keeping one ear out for anyone coming this way. I can feel the tingle that means the charm worked and the door is opening but the opening of the way is hardly instantaneous and so the danger remains. I slip through as soon as I can, reversing the charm as soon as I'm on the other side. 

I stand up on the low grassy bank and take in the scene. Twilight and the sky is a lovely shade of blue fading into indigo as night comes on. There's a river running below the bold angular strokes of a bridge farther down. There will be a road nearby and a town. I take  a breath of air, damp with recent rain and crisp with winter's fading bite, I  start moving towards the bridge and its promised road. It would not do to stand around waiting for someone to discover me. Hopefully I'll reach town tonight, otherwise I'll keep moving.  The Iron World is said to be many things, tonight it is cold.

I slip down to the river just before I reach the bridge to look for pebbles. I find and take a  double handful of the smooth round stones and drop them into my belt pouch. If it's not too late when I get into town I can find the inn and pay for a place to sleep. As I come back up the bank heading for the road I pull on a basic glamour, the only changes the things I need to make me seem human. Including the addition of a nice thick cloak. I know it won't actually cut the chill from the air but a good glamour covers all senses and I have no wish to to feel the true state of things so I make no exceptions for myself. Instead I pull my illusory cloak a little tighter and walk a little faster as I reach the bridge and stand there looking around to get my bearings.

[Closed]