the mountain air is cool & crisp. leaves snap from their branches and fall slowly to the ground, buffeted by a gentle breeze. illuminated by the afternoon sun, their bright hues of red, orange, and yellow resemble the sky before the sun sinks fully below the horizon. keyleth walks hand in hand with her mother, looking out at the mountain range before them and its many colors.
must you go? her voice wavers with childlike fear and sorrow. can’t you stay here, with us?
it’s an honor to embark on my arámente. vilya smiles softly. when i return, i will become the voice of this tribe. she kneels down to her daughter’s level, cupping one cheek in her hand. and one day, when you’re grown, you will embark on your own arámente, and become the new leader of our tribe.
keyleth hesitates. she knows little of leadership, but she does know one thing. i’‘ll miss you.
vilya, young & courageous & strong, takes her daughter into her arms. i’ll return to you soon, i promise.
a gust of wind shakes the trees’ branches, sending a flurry of leaves to the ground. the wind pushes hard against mother and daughter, icy and powerful. a flurry of red, orange, and gold surround them, as though every tree is being stripped of its leaves by that single, powerful gust, and they swallow the memory when keyleth startles awake.
she’s been sitting at a desk, chin propped up in her hand, for … hours. a stack of thick books are laid before her, one still open-faced where she left it. turning halfway around, she lays her arm on top of the back of her chair, meeting percival’s gaze. “ hmm? ” she mirrors percival’s movements, leaning back in her chair, arms stretching upward. “ oh, i could do this for hours. ” it’s a white lie, meant to allow percy to continue their research if he so desires despite her exhaustion, but even such niceties couldn’t suppress the relief that filled her upon percival’s decision. slowly keyleth stands, wincing at the stiffness in her legs. “ but if you need a break, let’s take one! want to go on a walk with me? it’d be good to stretch our legs. ”
on this, he is an expert. percy smiles & gets up himself, slowly & carefully. he stretches his limbs in a familiar routine to get his blood pumping again & muscles waking up. they’re going to need some coffee. any sort of extra stimulant as they put the books aside for a moment.
( * countless sleepless nights. pushing away the aches & pains in favour of more knowledge. of more steel & gunpowder, eyes never looking away from the fire. he forged his first gun in a haze, unaware of the time passing or the worried looks of his captain who’d barely be able to pull him away from his work enough to eat, sleep & take care of his bodily functions. you’re going to run yourself into the grave like that, son, the captain said gravely. percy remembers blinking at him, not entirely aware of where he was or what was happening. the captain sighed & knocked him out & percy dreamt of black smoke. )
percy puts his glasses back on and sighs. there’s still frost on the windows, the sun barely beginning to colour the thick sky with lighter blues & purples. whitestone has never been a loud town. it’s lively during the festivals, but even at the height of winter’s crest, it’s subdued compared to the boisterous streets of westruun & emon. he appreciates the silent mornings where the only company he has is the fog & the crisp air.
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever shown you around whitestone proper. we’re never here long enough to appreciate it & even if we are, we’re usually hard at work. ❜ there’s the ball of death to deal with after they deal with the dragons. it never ends. he knew whitestone’s blood-soaked grounds makes it an attractive location to do all kinds of shit, but percy had always thought it a myth. the briarwoods were one thing, but everything else ? he’s read it in history books. he should have known. maybe if he had been less complacent ... percy shakes his head & starts to head out. ❛ i say, coffee first & then i’ll show you some old hiding spots. anything in particular you want to see keyleth ? ❜
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