#aviyah

[willothy]

vampire consorts

[missladysky]

BLESS ME WITH YOUR OTP!

I was not tagged but @tarberrymentats​ did it so I’m gonna do it. I don’t have any good fallout content rn so please accept these WIPs of my fave dnd girls, Aviyah and her wife Iesha, as tribute. (Maybe I’ll have time to actually finish my art someday lol)

Do they fight often? If so, what is their dynamic like?

The bicker more often than not, but it’s never mean-spirited. When they do fight though, it’s serious. Aviyah is prone to explosive bouts of anger, which immediately triggers Iesha’s flight response due to her past trauma. They’ve been actively working through this to get better over time and they refuse to go to sleep angry. 

Who is the most skeptical of the two?

Aviyah has her ears and eyes wide open at all times and she trusts almost no one, save for her traveling companions and her wife.She spent the majority of her childhood watching her back and dealing with the skeeviest criminals Varisia had to offer so she knows what kind of things are out there. Iesha is almost too trusting of everyone and everything (which is part of what got her killed in the first place) so it seems only right that Aviyah has to watch out for her, too. You can never be too careful.

Who would be most likely to suggest a night of dancing?

Iesha grew up in a Varisian caravan, dancing every day of her life. She never passes up the opportunity to give praise and she drags Aviyah with her whenever she can. Aviyah has been learning her peoples’ traditional dances with her wife and she’s more open to it now than she’s ever been prior, but she would still prefer to admire Iesha’s more elegant steps under the pavilion than join in. 

What would they do if the other was injured in battle?

Iesha is calm and collected in the field. They’ve encountered their fare share of creatures and ruffians on their travels through Varisia and Aviyah is injured more often than she isn’t. She keeps a cool head and carries an aid kit with her everywhere, just in case. She’s been dead before and she doesn’t worry too much about herself. The only time she ever panicked was when Aviyah was nearly killed too far from town for a cleric. She still applied her knowledge as best she could, speaking to Avi in a low, soothing voice, and they managed to keep her stabilized until she could be healed enough to walk.

Aviyah thought she’d be able to handle it. She’d been in countless fights before and she’d held her own in the blood and viscera that followed but when she saw Iesha’s eyes wide, the arrow dug into her chest above her heart, all of her resolve melted away to panic. She dropped everything to run to her side, hyperventilating, and forgot everything she’d ever known about healing and medicine. Ultimately, the group developed a more solid contingency plan after that so no one would be endangered again and they worked with Avi to develop her coping skills.

How do their fighting styles complement each other?

Iesha’s fighting style was definitely different from everything that Avi had ever seen before. She’s flashy and theatrical, fighting with a bladed scarf covered in bright embroidered patterns and trimmed with bells. At first glance, Aviyah thought it was absolutely ridiculous. That is, until she realized it made the perfect distraction in the field.

Aviyah is all cloak and dagger, sneaking up on unsuspecting enemies and rending them with precision damage. She carries three heirloom daggers on her hip (and about 11 more mundane ones in various hiding places) and she takes pride in using them. Iesha is the perfect partner for keeping her targets unaware of her presence and together they’ve taken down entire syndicates of baddies in the underbelly of Varisia. 

Do they want children? Does it frighten them? How many do they want?

Aviyah had never given any thought to having children. She suffered a mid-term pregnancy loss when she was being kept at Merchant’s Fortune and vowed after that moment that she’d never let another man touch her as long as she lived.She is absolutely terrified of being a parent because she doesn’t want to fail her children or give them an opportunity to be as broken as she thinks she is.

She wasn’t counting on meeting Iesha, though. Iesha had always wanted to be a mother and have a family. She’d grown up with many siblings, in a caravan with many younger children and she married the first man who promised to give her a future. Of course, when that man murdered her in cold blood, plans changed. She lived for a while as a spectre and vowed that if she ever got her corporeal body back, she’d never let another man touch her as long as she lived.

No man ever did, obviously.

They’ve considered adopting children but have ultimately dedicated their lives and their fortunes to ending the slave trafficking trade that took Aviyah as a child and funding housing and food for the poor in Varisian cities.

What happened when they took them home to their families? If their families aren’t in the picture anymore, how do they feel about it?

Aviyah’s mother passed away when she was young and her father and brother were killed while she was being held at Merchant’s Fortune. She’d been 8 the last time she saw them and she wished very desperately for them to meet her. Iesha took her to the temple to commune with their shared deity and they received the blessing of knowing that Aviyah’s family had passed on from Pharasma’s Boneyard and into Desna’s domain together. It brought Aviyah great peace and she asked Iesha to marry her the same day.

Meeting Iesha’s family was very different. For one, she had left the caravan with her new husband in tow and returned with a woman they had never seen before and in that time she had died and been resurrected. They asked few questions, just happy to see her home and they immediately adopted Aviyah into their fold with open arms. It was uncomfortable at first because it made Avi miss her family terribly but she realized she was being given an opportunity to finally be a part of her culture and a part of a family as a whole.

How does each person show affection towards the other?

Iesha speaks every love language, loudly and clearly and constantly. She wears her heart on her sleeve for everyone to see and makes sure that Aviyah knows she is loved and cared for. It can be smothering to Avi sometimes in comparison to her own reserved nature, but even she can’t deny that to finally feel wanted and loved after so long without is nice. 

Aviyah is less public about it. She loves to pick flowers while she’s walking and tuck them into secret places for Iesha to find later. She buys her wife’s favorite pastries when they are out for supplies to break out during dinner as a surprise. But by far her favorite thing is the quiet moments when the sun is just coming up and they share soft, tired kisses and just enjoy each other’s company.

Who cries the most? Who is better at comforting?

Iesha cries about nearly anything. Often, they’re happy tears but just as often they’re not. She never cries for long--she always says that time spent sad is time wasted and it never takes much to calm her down. She’s also better at comforting Aviyah when she cries than the other way around.

When Aviyah cries, it’s crushing. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, she can’t breathe and her knees buckle and she is overwhelmed with the sound of blood in her ears and the pressure in her chest. Iesha learned quickly to settle her on the floor where she could hold her and she guides her in breathing and regaining her control. They count floor tiles or trees together until she can think again.It’s a methodical process that Iesha is glad to help with. She doesn’t want to say how she learned.

Who is the bigger flirt?

Iesha is incorrigible. She’s constantly using innuendo and she loves to fluster her wife by any means necessary and she doesn’t care much who sees or hears.

Aviyah is more subtle. She likes to whisper in Iesha’s ear when no one is listening or stretch in just the right way when she knows she’s looking. It’s absolutely maddening. 

Ultimately, these two are a weird match and the second greatest of my dnd stories and I love them dearly with all my heart and hopefully someday I’ll finish their novelization and everyone can meet them properly. <3

[heartofgolduria]

I missed my girl so here's a short render I made while I was testing my PC. Hope everyone is having a great holiday.

[heartofgolduria]

Magnimar, Varisia

Aviyah didn’t think she would ever get used to staying in noble houses. The Kaijitsu Villa was probably one of the more opulent buildings in the Naos District when it was in full repair. In its current state, though, the neighbors’ tongues were wagging about how the building should just be sold to someone who would actually be around to care for it. Aviyah could not say she disagreed the day they arrived. The servants--what few had been there--had made haste and left the property the moment the adventurers stepped through the door with little to no warning. Inside, it was clear that the absence of their employer had made them a little lazy. The home was still beautiful and would have only taken a day or two and some elbow grease to bring back to glory but the floors were dusty and things were out of place. Dishes were piled in the kitchen sink, unwashed from many nights of servants-only dinners and laundry remained in baskets in the washroom, untouched.

Iesha had immediately taken it upon herself to pick up the slack in her free time while the adventurers were sleeping over the past few days--much to the disdain of the neighbors, who had complained to the guard about the noise--and as they stepped back into the villa, it felt like a home again. 

“Vivi! Vivian?!” They called uselessly through the house together, checking doors and hoping desperately for any sign that their friend had returned home while they were away.

“She’s not in any of the bedrooms,” Aviyah sighed, reconvening with Akane in the hallway. “And I checked the library and the study and she’s not there, either.” 

“Not in the kitchen or the baths either,” Akane lamented, scrubbing a hand through her hair. Aviyah was so unused to seeing her without her hat on. 

“I’m sure she’ll be home soon,” the rogue offered, “but why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll start tea. We can go over all the new evidence while we wait.”

Before she even turned the corner, she could hear the shuffling that meant their ghostly companion had already begun busying herself  in the kitchen. Aviyah watched as she floated jars and little boxes off the shelves, inspecting their labels and tossing them back in when she didn’t find what she was looking for.

“You would think a woman who runs an inn for a living would have a better selection,” Iesha grumbled, setting down a sack of salt on the countertop and turning back to whatever was already bubbling on the stove. She sighed heavily and added, “I miss the kitchen in the townhouse. Aldern was a fool but he had good taste.” Aviyah hoisted herself up onto the counter opposite Iesha to watch her work. 

“Well, he did choose you, so I’d have to agree,” she joked, balancing a butterknife idly on one finger. Iesha spun around to cross her arms pointedly at the other girl as she rolled her eyes. 

“I meant food,” she chided. Still, she smiled at Aviyah and drifted back to her place in front of the stove, moving her hands deliberately, her face stern as she attempted to stir the pot on the left and place the kettle on the right. The kettle clipped the edge of the stove, sending water flying across the tile. Iesha cursed under her breath and placed her hands over her face. “I swear I am never going to get the hang of this.” 

“Hey, now,” Aviyah hopped down and picked up the kettle, refilling it with water and placing it on the stove. “You’ve only been a ghost for, what? A week, maybe. I’d say you’re doing very well so far.” She yanked the towel hanging from the handle of the oven to mop up the water with one foot, tossing it in the bin next to the basin with the other kitchen towels. Iesha was sitting at the table with her head tucked into her arms.

“I miss my hands,” she groaned pitifully. She glanced up to meet the amusement on Aviyah’s face with a pointed glare. “I’m glad you think this is funny.” 

“It is decidedly not funny,” she conceded, stirring idly at Iesha’s project on the stove. There were bits of various vegetables churning in the bubbling pot that smelled like vinegar and garlic and something else that she couldn’t identify. She scrunched up her nose and poked at it for a moment before the wooden spoon was forcibly yanked from her hands and Iesha was suddenly beside her, looking more irritated than before.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it,” she groused, turning her focus to moving the spoon back over the pot. Her fingers twitched as she worked it into a steady circular rhythm. Aviyah observed the careful concentration that crossed her features, the small wrinkle that had formed between her eyebrows, the way her eyes narrowed and she caught part of her lower lip between her teeth. Iesha’s eyes met hers for a moment as she realized she was being watched and her concentration faltered. The spoon stopped and fell onto the stovetop and Iesha crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. Why don’t you just let me--” Aviyah picked up the spoon and set back to work stirring where Iesha had left off in an uneven pattern that caused some of the strange contents to slosh up over the edge and sizzle on the grate below.

“Ah! No, not--ugh. Here!” Aviyah felt the cold pressure start in her fingers and reach its way up her forearm and when she looked down again, she was being pushed in a soft, rhythmic pattern. “Who taught you how to use a stove?” 

“Trick question,” Aviyah answered, watching the swirling liquid intently. “Papa taught me a lot of things. I can tie a sail and I can navigate by the stars, but gods was he a lousy chef.” She chuckled a little at the memory and added, “My brother used to sneak away and grab us pastries from the market and we’d hide them in our packs so we’d have something to eat after Papa went to sleep. We never wanted to hurt his feelings. He tried so hard.” She hadn’t even noticed as she’d been talking that Iesha had let go of her hand.

“Well, while I’m still with you we’ll just have to make the most of it,” she was grinning over Aviyah’s shoulder. “Grab me that salt, would you?” 

_____________

By the time Akane joined them, the girls in the kitchen had managed to make a passable sour vegetable soup. Aviyah was surprised by how good it was, despite her aversion to the smell, and after a long day they’d spent sneaking around and fighting for their lives, a warm fire and a full stomach went a long way. They spread out the papers on the large table and talked about their next move but they collectively agreed that to go forward without Vivi would be foolish at best. The guards still had not seen her when they checked in on the way back to the villa and they were beginning to worry in earnest. It was decided they would keep looking in the morning. They bid each other goodnight and headed to their own rooms for the evening.

While the majority of the villa had been constructed in a more traditional Varisian style, the guest rooms had been designed with a reflection of the owners’ Tian Xia heritage in mind. Aviyah’s guest room was on the second floor of the house on the western side of the hall.  The furniture was all made of the same polished cherry wood with delicate mother of pearl inlays. A large window on the west wall painted the room in a dim white glow from the moon, filtered by the gauzy curtains hanging from ornamental rods above. Above the low bed, a round tapestry bound in a wooden frame hung on the wall depicting a peaceful, mountainous landscape.

After a long bath and  a last cup of tea, Aviyah lit the candles by the bedside, settled into the soft mattress, her back to the padded headboard, and pulled a carefully folded bundle of  unfinished cloth from her pack. 

The first day’s work had been tedious as she tried to remember the simple patterns the sweet tiefling girl had taught her at the Merchant’s Fortune but after several days of trial and error, the thread slipped back and forth across the fabric easily. Her work was still not as clean as the tiefling’s or as beautiful as her mother’s, but Aviyah stifled some pride at how the pattern was coming together under her hands. Over the past couple of days, the little project had become a sort of meditation to put her mind at ease when she could not go to sleep. There was some satisfaction she drew from the repetition. She took the moments of peace when she did not have to focus to reflect on the day and sometimes she prayed, mostly to Desna but occasionally to Iomedae, too. 

A knock on the door startled her from her work. The house had been quiet, the only sound a light scratching on the window from a tree just outside. She hastily shoved all of the fabric with all its new stitching into her back and answered, “Come in!” 

The door did not open, but Iesha’s shimmery form phased through the heavy wood and out the other side gracefully and she settled herself on the edge of the bed in an awkward half-sit that did not look entirely natural. 

“I’m sorry for knocking so late,” she said, glancing around the room at the various knick knacks and paintings that adorned the walls. “I was just concerned. I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave a candle burning or something--there was light under the door.”

“Ah, yeah. Sorry I worried you, I was just having trouble sleeping,” Aviyah lied.  Iesha glanced down at the pack on the floor and her brow furrowed a little. 

“I miss sleeping,” she said, flopping backwards onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. “If I were you, I’d be sleeping all the time. And I miss being able to change my hair. If I had known this is what I would look like when I was a ghost I might I have taken more care to look presentable.”

“You look fine,” Aviyah chuckled and Iesha rolled her eyes a little in response.

“Ah, yes,” she countered sarcastically. “Because all I ever wanted in life was to look fine. ‘Here lies Iesha, daughter of the most beautiful woman in Varisia. She looked fine, I guess’ is exactly how I want my eulogy read. You should make a note of that.” Aviyah blushed a little and shook her head, grinning. 

“Now you’re telling me that you are your own daughter?” she joked. “No one at the funeral is gonna believe that.” Iesha looked away and broke into a fit of nervous giggles. She regained her composure and sighed heavily. 

“Thank you,” she said more seriously. “I know I’ve only been dead for three months but it’s been a lot longer since the last time someone made me laugh.” Her eyes slipped closed and she shuddered a little, her outline flickering slightly. “Is it terrible that sometimes I miss him?” 

Aviyah laid down on her back next to the other girl and traced the beams above with her eyes, thinking hard before answering, “No. I don’t think it’s terrible.” They laid there in silence for a moment.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Iesha continued softly. “But he wasn’t always that..whatever he was. That was the strangest thing about those monsters back at the townhouse. It was like staring back in time. I know it wasn’t really him but they got everything right.”

“Not everything,” Aviyah interjected before she could stop herself. “She didn’t smile like you do. Your smile tilts up more on one side. Hers didn’t.” Iesha turned and opened her mouth to object but decided better of it. 

“I think,” she said after a moment. “I just miss people. I was never alone. I grew up with siblings and cousins and friends and when Aldern and I got married there were parties and visitors and all that but then I...stayed in my room and then he took me away to the manor and out of town. Darren was the only friend I had there and he just…” She took an unnecessary, shuddering breath. “I’m just tired of being alone. All those hours awake, alone in the dark just feel like when he... I have too much time to think.” Not for the first time, Aviyah wished she could reach out for her.

“I know what you mean,” she said instead, closing her eyes. “Living with the girls was always so closely packed. We did everything together when we weren’t working. I didn’t necessarily care for their company but it was company. And then I escaped and, well, this is the most time I’ve spent with other people since. Is it terrible to miss them?”

“I miss my family,” Iesha choked out. Her visage faded in and out as her energy wavered. 

For the first time since she left the Merchant’s Fortune, Aviyah let herself say it out loud. “Me too.”  They sat like that together, listening to the tap, tap, tap on the window and watching the shadows dance along the beams that held up the ceiling. Aviyah felt the chill in her fingers and curled them up around the invisible hand she knew would be there if she just had the courage to look.

“I know you can’t sleep,” she said finally. “But you can stay here with me. Read or draw or whatever ghosts do at night. If you want to. I don’t mind.” 

“I think I’d like that.”

[heartofgolduria]

 Magnimar, Varisia “That should be me,” Iesha finally said softly, her small voice just barely drifting on the breeze to where Aviyah sat perched on the edge of the rooftop. She scooted carefully down the tiles to settle down next to her spectral companion. In the darkness, Iesha was just a shimmer, reflecting the light from the streetlamps and townhouse windows below. Stars shone straight through her, making her look more like a constellation from a picture book than the woman they had seen earlier in the day, but beautiful nonetheless. They stared out at the city in silence, admiring the dotting of torches and fire light that painted the expanse of Magnimar in a strange shadowy orange glow. Even from here, they could hear the sea crashing against the coasts as the high tide rolled in.

“I’m sorry,” Aviyah answered. She wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, maybe take her hand to reassure her but she knew she would only find air. Iesha sighed in response and pulled her knees to her chest, laying her chin on her forearms and staring blankly out at the city she’d once hoped she could call home.

“It’s not like you killed me,” she teased weakly, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. “I’m kidding of course. I just remember the first time I saw this part of the city. It was raining but I was so awed by how extravagant it was--a far cry from the caravan trailers. You’ve seen them. I think I was just in love with the whole idea of it. Being swept off your feet by a handsome, wealthy man, having all the clothes and pastries you could ever want. It was like the stories they used to tell us at the Faire, y’know? Mama and Da were overjoyed. We’d been falling behind schedule. One of our horses died and the shows just weren’t bringing in money like they used to. I think they just wanted more for me and he seemed like the way out. They were excited about having grandchildren.” Her voice trailed off into the dark and she heaved a big sigh. “They couldn’t have known. He was kind to me at first. That first couple of months was good, truly. He was attentive and I was content to enjoy the finer things in the city for a while. It was like an extended holiday. I just wanted to see more. I wanted to experience everything and he… I don’t know.  I guess he just wanted someone to tend his house and hang on his arm at dinner parties. He spent more and more time in the study and I’d spend more and more time wandering in the city and then one day the door was locked and that was that. I thought maybe it would get better when we went away to the manor but...clearly that didn’t work out. If I had just been better maybe--”

“No,” Aviyah interrupted, not turning her face from the city. “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Whatever was living inside him would have come for you no matter what and if not you, then whoever else walked into that web. You were doing what you thought was right. It’s not your fault.”  Aviyah felt the familiar cold of Iesha’s fingers on top of her own and they sat in silence for a while, listening to the wind rustling the trees in the courtyard.

“Thank you,” Iesha murmured. “It’s a lot more beautiful from up here than through my window ever was.” Her voice was thick like she was crying but when Aviyah turned to look at her, she saw no tears on her translucent face; just the moonlight from above and the torchlight from below reflecting off of her energy, stars in her hair that spilled onto her shoulders in the darkness. 

Aviyah didn’t take her eyes off of Iesha’s profile, “It really is.” She averted her gaze as Iesha looked back at her, hastily recomposing her face.

“The first time I ever came to Magnimar,” Aviyah diverted the conversation, leaning back on her elbows on the rooftop. “I was seven. I don’t remember much except sailing into port and seeing the Irespan. I remember my Papa telling my brother and me stories about how he’d met our mother dancing  in the temple down on the seaside. They were married there.”

“That sounds lovely,” Iesha lamented. She laid back against the tile next to Aviyah easily, unburdened by gravity, and she continued. “Aldern and I were married in the living room of the townhouse. I had asked if maybe we could have a celebration later--something more festive-- and he said he would think about it. That should have been my first sign. I never even got to dance.”

“I’ve never thought about being married before,” Aviyah admitted into the dark before she could catch herself. “Well,” she added after a moment. “Once. A boy, Idrian. He came to visit me often. He was kind and he never asked to touch me. We talked about running away together and then one day he just...never showed again. I went looking for him but it turns out that wasn’t even his name. He’d given me a fake name, a fake ship, everything. The men at the dock laughed at me for thinking anyone could fall in love with a whore. I never tried again.” 

Iesha turned her head to lock eyes with her friend for a moment and she slipped her hand into hers again, squeezing softly. “You’re not a whore and that boy was an idiot,” she said. They giggled a little together and settled back into a comfortable lull, listening to the ocean. “I think if I had to do it again, I would. I would hope for a better outcome, you know? But I don’t know. I know I’m not where I wanted to be but I was never the careful type. If I was, then I wouldn’t be me, would I?”

“No, probably not,” Aviyah rolled onto her hip to face the other girl again. “What was your name? Before all this?” 

She watched as her crystal clear eyes fluttered closed and she took a deep breath before answering, “Andreli. Iesha Floriana Andreli.” Like a caged bird singing a long forgotten tune, the words rolled off her tongue and she grinned as she said it. In that smile, Aviyah could see the bright, young Varisian girl she’d met in the townhouse, full of excitement and promise. A girl who had deserved so much better. “But no one has called me that in a long time.”

“No one will call you anything else ever again,” Aviyah promised softly. The grip on her hand grew tighter, the cold seeping into her muscles and making them stiff in the already chilly night but she didn’t dare move. 

“I’m afraid,” Iesha confessed. “I don’t know where to go or where I’ll go when I’m gone. If I’ll ever be gone at all. What if she...doesn’t want me? After everything I’ve done.”

“Then she would be an idiot,” Aviyah echoed back, coaxing a small smile from the other girl. “And I’ll be right there with you. Whatever happens.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

[heartofgolduria]

New Start

Upon returning to Sandpoint

Aviyah had reservations about joining her new friends in their home. As they approached a rickety bridge on the edge of town that led to the island so affectionately named ‘Chopper’s Isle’ by the locals, those reservations felt justified. They had asked her to come home with them--just for a while, they’d said--and made it clear that she was free to go whenever she wanted, but she still had anxiety balled up in her chest as the tall stone walls came up over the horizon. The dirt path that led to the doors was well worn, despite the structure being of obviously recent construction. Akane held open the heavy oak door and gestured her inside. 

She stopped short just inside the doorway of the main hall. Her companions’ footsteps on the flagstone floor echoed off the vaulted ceilings as they dispersed and disappeared into the dimly lit corridors on either side of the huge room. A large threadbare rug was laid out in front of the enormous hearth that took up the far wall, but otherwise the room was empty. No wonder Akane and Vivi had insisted on bringing the massive caravan of furnishings from Taldor. Aviyah followed timidly as Akane led her down the long hallways, past the library and a series of small bedrooms, until she finally stopped in front of a narrow door at the end of the hall.

“This has been a guest room until recently,” Akane was explaining as Aviyah’s attention finally focused on what the other girl was saying. “But it’s yours now, if you want it. I mean, if you want to stay with us.” 

“Thank you,” Aviyah said, quickly gathering Akane up in an awkward, stiff hug that neither of them were entirely comfortable with before letting her go. Akane mumbled something about needing to make sure their Drumish helpers were actually helping and not tipping all of their belongings  into the ocean as she turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner. Aviyah let out a breath she’d been holding, steeled her nerves, and opened the door.

The small room was sparsely furnished with a simple, unmade rope bed, a writing desk, chair, and a small chest of drawers with an empty candlestick tipped over on its top. A high window made from mismatched, colored glass cast a beam of ethereal light onto the stone tile, the dust in the room swirling around in lazy patterns in and out of the darkness. Aviyah stepped inside and closed the door behind her, moving forward into the light. It was warm on her face and she closed her eyes against the brightness of it. Even then, she could see little starburst patterns behind her eyelids like constellations guiding her home. She bent and pulled out her kapenia from the bottom of her weathered rucksack. It was hard to reconcile that she was really back in Varisia. Even as she listened to the waves crashing against the coast outside, it felt like a strange dream, like she woke in someone else’s life and it carried her here. Doors opened and closed down the hall and she could hear men shouting directions one another as they started to move their things in from the caravan. For a moment, she traced the beautiful satin stitching of the runes on the kapenia and let the warmth of the sun engulf her as she let the reality of this new life wash over her.  The gods were real. She had met Iomedae. Her friends told tales of their time with Pharasma. Her parents, her brother, had all gone to Desna like her father had always told her. They were together and happy somewhere far away from the material plane like the stories had all said. It was all true.

It was unfair. They’d all gone on without her. In that moment, for the first time in all her years--even the time she spent at the Merchant’s Fortune-- she desperately wished she could join them. Since she left Riddleport, she’d been so focused on surviving, travelling, protecting. She had never given any thought to what she would do when it was all over and she had to go home. The thought of going back to the empty house where she’d spent her early childhood made her stomach churn. She knew what her father would say; the only direction worth going was forward. Her bedroom in their home in Golduria had been covered in anything and everything shiny that she could get her tiny hands on. Her mother had more than once referred to her affectionately as the cutest goblin she had ever seen. Murdoch complained about how much stuff she had shoved into the tiny space they shared, but it never stopped him from joining her under the tent she’d made from curtains, sheets, and her mother’s skirts she’d pulled from all over the house and draped over every surface she could manage. They’d pretend it was her castle and he was a valiant knight of the highest order. Their father would sometimes come in and generously play the part of the meanest dragon in Varisia, taking extra care to die as dramatically as was possible, while their mother stood in the doorway and watched with a wry smile on her face. Aviyah took a tentative step forward and draped her kapenia over the posts of her bed, a bright stripe of gold against an otherwise drab backdrop, and it felt a little more like home.

[heartofgolduria]

Welcome Home

On the route from Vigil to Sandpoint Abadius, 4707. Kaer Maga, Varisia.

The past week’s travel had been a gruesome trek over the mountains and then, when that was over, desert. It felt like they had been walking for months instead of weeks. The beasts that carried the wagons of their caravan were growing weary and sluggish and the Drumish caravan guards were even less pleasant than they had been at the start, which was to say they were still Drumish and still complaining constantly only now everyone was hungry and tired. 

Aviyah’s first view of Varisia in nearly four years was from the top of the Storval Rise cliffside. They stopped just outside the walls  of Kaer Maga to regroup and decide how to make the final stretch back to Sandpoint, maps laid out all over the ground with men squabbling and pointing, shouting in various languages. She stayed in the wagon until they reached the edge of the  precipice but the second she had the opportunity to escape, she sprinted from the caravan and skittered to the edge of the steep cliff face. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared out at the vast green expanse of Varisia. Home. The air here was thicker with humidity than the mountains had been. The Yondabakari River roared beside them, plummeting down two hundred or so feet where it reconnected at the bottom, reflecting the bright,unimpeded sun and creating a crisp, glowing cut through the fields of tall grass. Little villages and towns dotted its banks, low hills and mountains like waves in the ocean of green. She held the tiny piece of Catherine in her hands and placed it over her heart. She’d been standing on the deck of the boat the last time she traveled down this river. She closed her eyes and the memory flooded back to her. 

Her father’s large hand was warm against her back, a reassuring presence while her much smaller hands were trying to keep a grip on the rudder. It  jerked back and forth as Murdoch was whooping loudly, creating a messy, directionless wind in the sails and kicking up choppy waves that splashed onto the deck and made it difficult for his  younger sister to keep her footing much less steer the boat. 

“Hold it steady,” her father said encouragingly, guiding her hands to the correct places from over her shoulder. She glared at her brother, frustration obvious on her face. 

“I’m trying,” she insisted as she pointed  at Murdoch, letting the rudder go and causing the boat to shift uneasily. “But he keeps making everything go all over the place!” Her brother stuck his tongue out at her from across the deck and directed a fierce shear of wind in her general direction, coating her in a spray of river water and disheveling her loosely braided hair. She started to wriggle herself free, maybe to go punch him square in the nose, when her father stopped her.

“Murdoch, that’s enough!” he said firmly, but not loudly. The wind around the boat ceased almost immediately. Badhu kneeled down beside her. He  wiped the water from her face with his shirtsleeve and pushed her mess of tightly coiled hair back from her eyes. 

“There are going to be things that make life harder,” he said to her, tipping her chin up with his forefinger when she tried to look away. “You’re going to want to give up but you cannot let them shake you, starshine. Frustration, anger--they only lead to a sore heart. Let’s try again.” He placed her hands back on the rudder and held them steady against the current. She could feel the water moving underneath it. 

He waved his hand to her brother, whose face twisted in concentration as an even, clear breeze filled the sails. Her father let go of her hands. The boat coasted smoothly along the water as they commanded Catherine on their own. Murdoch smiled at her and shouted, “Aviyah, we did it!” She could almost hear his voice in her ears. “Aviyah! Aviyah!”

“Aviyah!” Her eyes snapped open and she saw Akane and Vivian standing a few feet away. “Are you coming, or what?” They motioned back to the caravan where everyone was loading back into the wagons and some of them had begun to move. 

“Yeah, just give me a moment?” she said. 

“Okay,” Vivi responded with a grin, “but if you’re not  back in five  minutes, we’re leaving without you!” As they  turned to walk away, Aviyah could hear the familiar banter passing between them.

“You shouldn’t joke like that,” Akane chided. “Who said I was joking? I’m ready to go home.”

Aviyah turned the last remaining piece of Catherine over in her hands and gazed out across the familiar landscape. She felt the hurt rising in her chest. She thought about all of the pain she’d been harboring in her heart, all of the anger she’d been storing for when she made it back to Riddleport someday. She thought about the years she’d spent tracking her brother only to find him gone and buried, the fear she’d had of returning home alone without a family. She looked back at Akane and Vivi and their companions gathered with the wagon and she heard her father’s words ring in her ears once more. “Let’s try again.”

[heartofgolduria]

Found Family

On the route from Wispil to Kerse Aithne - pronounced “En-YA”

She’d told Akane and Vivi not to worry and that she’d be back before dinner, but as she trudged down the well-worn and muddy path to the address the barhand had hastily scribbled for her she wondered if she might be walking forever--Bellis wasn’t that big, was it? The sun was hanging low in the sky, elongating the shadows of tall Verdruan trees and casting gold, ethereal light onto the puddles in the old road. Finally, she stopped at a small house, tucked into the trees about two hundred paces back from the edge of the road. Linen hung from a clothesline, flapping lightly in the breeze on one side of the house and on the other, a grove of small fruit-bearing trees was nestled against the edge of the forest. She could hear a woman singing, loudly and off-key, somewhere in the fruit grove.

Aviyah cautiously made her way up the path to the house toward the singing, stepping carefully around what looked to be deliberately dug holes in the ground, some with half-buried trinkets in them, and she raised an eyebrow in curiosity, realizing that she had no idea who she was supposed to be meeting here. She knelt down to inspect one of the items in one of the holes--half of a shoe filled with various buttons--and was immediately startled by the sound of someone or something screeching from the trees. A finely-dressed goblin came screaming from the fruit grove, yelling incoherently as he snatched the makeshift pouch from Aviyah’s hands. She raised her hands defensively, showing no weapons, as she was berated by the angry creature, who was snarling and spitting what she assumed had to be curses at her through his sharp teeth. 

“Gnish?” a voice called from nearby. “Gnish what is it? You’d better not be--” The woman Aviyah had heard singing earlier emerged from the trees, a large basket of dark purple fruit perched on her hip. The two women locked eyes for a moment and the basket fell with a thump into the grass. 

“It’s you,” she said quietly, taking a small step forward. The light from the setting sun illuminated her hair into a blaze of orange braided into a messy pile on top of her head. Her skirt and hands were stained with whatever she had been picking and her eyes were wide as she stared down the other girl. 

Aviyah pulled the letter out of the pouch on her hip and held it out to the girl to inspect the seal, but she didn’t. Instead she rushed forward and threw her arms around a stunned Aviyah’s neck. Aviyah settled into the embrace after a moment of surprise and they stayed that way for a moment before the other girl--Aithne, she had to assume-- pulled back with tears in her bright eyes. 

“Come inside,” she said. “I’ll put on the kettle. We have so much to talk about.” 

The small farmhouse was quaint and sparsely decorated. Inside the door, Aviyah was ushered into a small kitchen. Pots and pans were stacked haphazardly on almost every countertop. A brass candelabra dripped wax onto a dining room table crammed into the corner. Aithne pulled out one of the mismatching chairs for her guest and set to work lighting a fire in the small wood stove, cursing under her breath for several moments before the inside began to flicker with the beginnings of a fire. She filled a small pot with water from a pitcher and set it over the grate and then turned to Aviyah, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know it’s not much to look at. Tarik was supposed to be bringing me some hooks for all these wretched pans. I keep saying I don’t need any more but there I am, bringing them home anyway. Oh, Tarik is my husband. He’s not home right now but he should be back soon. You’ve met Gnish already. I would introduce myself but, well?” She gestured to the letter that was still gripped tightly in Aviyah’s hands. “And you’re Aviyah.” 

“You have a lovely home,” Aviyah replied, immediately feeling foolish. She didn’t know what else to say. If she was being honest, she didn’t know what she thought her brother’s company had been like, but she knew this was not what she’d been expecting. 

“Thank you, I--hold that thought!” Aithne turned back to the stove where the small pot was steaming and dipped her finger into the water, hissing at the high temperature and retrieving the pot from the stove. “Sorry! If you let it boil, it’ll absolutely ruin the flavor profile.  My mother didn’t teach me much about cooking but she did teach me how to brew tea.” As she talked, she was pouring the scalding water into small cast iron cups. Aviyah’s lips quirked up in a small smile. So maybe her brother had made some decent friends after all. 

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the cup from Aithne’s waiting hands graciously, letting the warmth seep into her, feeling the clammy cold that had been plaguing them since they left Wispil slowly being swallowed up. Aithne sat down at the table next to her and they both sat there silently for a spell, absently stirring at their cups. 

“I didn’t think you would come,” Aithne finally said, much more somber than she’d been moments prior. “When I saw you, I thought I’d seen a ghost. Has anyone ever told you how much you look like him?” Aviyah shook her head. No. He’d been barely thirteen years old the last time she’d seen him alive, in that awkward stage between man and boy--probably nothing like the Murdoch that Aithne had known. She had a hard time remembering his face at all.

“I’m sorry,” Aithne spoke softly, her eyes downcast. She fidgeted with a loose thread on her apron. “I’ve been imagining this meeting for so long but I never actually decided what I would say. Nothing feels like enough. Murdoch was--is--like a brother to me but I can’t imagine…” She trailed off and looked up at Aviyah, consciously making eye contact with the other girl. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Aviyah replied, turning the letter over in her hands. “You did more for me than you know. I needed to thank you for treating him with dignity.”

“It’s the very least I could do for someone I owe my life to. I only wish I could have done more,” Aithne looked up as the younger girl took her hand in hers. 

“I understand,” she said softly, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “You did everything you could. I am just thankful he had a friend as kind as you.” The girls embraced  for what felt like ages, neither wanting to let go. For Aviyah, it was like hugging her brother one last time. She imagined that maybe it was that way for Aithne, too. Aithne sniffled gracelessly as she pulled back, her face tear-streaked and she smiled a little as she looked at Aviyah, cupping the girl’s cheek in her hand. 

“He always said you’d come home,” she said through her tears. “I doubted him, but there he is proving me wrong again, even now. I can hear the ‘I told you so’ if I listen hard enough.” They both laughed a little, settling back into their chairs. 

“Yeah,” Aviyah agreed. “That sounds like him.” She closed her eyes and tried to remember what he’d sounded like that day. He’d been irritated with her. Father had asked them to stay behind while he met with the supplier but she’d wanted to go to the street vendor just down the dock. She’d begged him to take her but he wouldn’t leave. “What if someone stole our boat? What then?”  Every part of her wished she had listened to him. 

“He never got to see how I turned out,” she said softly after a moment. She mentally chided herself for being so vulnerable with a virtual stranger, but there was something about Aithne, that invited vulnerability and welcomed it with open arms and warm cups of tea. “I never told him I was sorry.” 

“He knew,” Aithne assured her, taking the other girl’s hand in hers and brushing the back of it softly with her thumbs. “I’m sorry you never got to see how he turned out, either. He was an amazing sailor--probably the best I’ve ever known. We travelled together a lot. He talked about you all the time. His favorite stories were always about you. I never got tired of hearing them. When he--well, I didn’t know what else to do. It made sense to write to you. His, uh, your father had already passed and there was no one left so--” 

“Thank you,” Aviyah cut in before she could tell her any more. There was only one thing she needed to know. She cast her eyes down before asking, “Was it painful? Did he suffer?” 

Aithne stiffened and looked away but didn’t let go of Aviyah’s hand. After a long pause she answered, “No. It was all so fast. I didn’t even have time to react before… Bandits, I think. We were transporting something really valuable and the wrong people found out. They attacked before we even knew they were there. They tore the boat apart looking for it. I don’t remember much, just the fire and pulling him on shore. They never found the cargo, but they took everything else from me that night. He would tell me not to blame myself but…”

“He’s right,” the rogue said, picking up her pack from the floor and rummaging through it before pulling a long scarf out of the bag. It had been washed since she first opened the package in Wispil. She had attentively darned the frayed edges in a bright embroidery thread gifted to her by one of the gnomish seamstresses and finished the end of the pattern with the end of Murdoch’s story. She turned it over for a moment, feeling the raised runic patterns under her fingers. “My father used to say that to wear a kapenia was the highest honor in the world. To wear it meant that you belonged to Varisia and its people. Murdoch was the last of my blood kin, but he wasn’t the last of my family.” She placed the kapenia in Aithne’s hands and took a ragged breath before she continued, “This belongs to you now. May Desna guide and keep you.”  

Aithne’s eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open as she shook her head. “No, I couldn’t,” she said, her voice cracking a little as she held it out to Aviyah with shaking hands. She was met with a kind smile and fingers closing over hers, over the scarf. 

“You were there for him when I couldn’t be. You cared for him, you buried him. You are family to him and so you are family to me and to Varisia.” They embraced one more time, Murdoch’s kapenia pinned between them. 

“Thank you.”