who: @celayawitcher where: by courier, then in Ankhuria when: Arriving to Celaya roughly a week after The Living Prison notes: letter as your starter, but if you want me to do more and set the scene just let me know and I'll do so.
Celaya,
By the time this letter reaches you, someone will have told you of all that passed at Amon-Sûl. Life has given you many reasons to question news so lifting as the dead of a god. I would not believe it if I did not witness it. It is true. Like all things, it comes with a price.
I would like you to meet me in Ankhuria. Please see the marked spot on the map enclosed. It is critical you come within a fortnight. Please come armed. If I am not there when you arrive, please wait. I will come when I regain lucidity. If your instincts alert you that something is wrong when we find one another, you must trust them. You must act on them. If I never come, speak to any member of the Legion. They will confirm what you already suspect this far into this letter.
If you are able, please bring with you a sleeping potion and a sharpened blade. The blade alone will do.
If the Weave wills, I will see you soon.
Veseniya
It does not take long into reading the letter to comprehend what Death stains its pages. Celaya's current reaction is tempered, stern and resolute considering what losses she has faced - yet those are tangible, not entirely marred by Death, but something that promises a return. What Veseniya spoke of here, it reeked of permanence and Celaya knew time was waning thin for her beloved friend.
Ankhuria was some place she'd never been, peaks and valleys shrouded with the deafening silence of a desert; it was a place that was unkind to any, but would be especially unkind to one born of frost and antimagic. Still, Celaya made haste after the letter had been read; there were no loose ends to tie up, no one to wonder where she would be gone to. Perhaps once before that would make her feel so harrowingly empty, but on the fringes of this letter, such loneliness comes with acceptance. Not everyone could face their fate, whatever muddled and fractured version said Fates granted to them, but Celaya was vexed by fighting against it any longer. She was a warrior, a brave woman, and sometimes - often times - that came with the realization that she was to bear such cross alone.
Celaya held the letter close as though she could smell the faint familiarity of her friend as Veseniya had been writing it - as though she would be hugging her one last time if the witcher could not locate her in time. It was said that those who fought at Amon-Sûl were already conscribed as living heroes, but it seemed her friend had paid the ultimate price for their heroic missive and Celaya did not fault her for that.
The transition from Lysaran borders to Ankurkian realms was stark, the cooler air transitioned quickly to the remnants of stifling heat. The sun was looming on the horizon and Celaya did not know what would await her in the darkness but she did not fear. She walked forward, a woman with a mission, a friend with a favor. She came with no armor bogging her down, just her respected equipment - her sword and shield, the ingredients of a potion tucked away in her rucksack. Her hair was wound tightly, intricate braids telling of what reverence was found for her friend, what respect and dignity Veseniya would be met with when the end came to pass.
Celaya mustered a smile of relief as a fire seemed to breech the horizon, off on the other side of the dune. Based on the map Veseniya had provided, the location was correct, but the smile faded as quickly as it was conjured. There was no telling if the vestiges of her friend would greet her or the strong embrace of it. She would not let memory delude her into hope. Celaya let out a whistle, the sound may have been slightly deafened by the wind but Veseniya was always perceptive enough where - if lucidity granted her this - she would hear Celaya's hint of arrival.
Such call was also given on the wonder if there were any others hiding within the crevices and dips of the dunes; Celaya would not let them stifle her mission, but she would end any who came to cross her before it was complete. After several moments pause, Celaya finally drifted towards the source of the fire to see what awaited her next.




















