Aimil
Two women stood on the front step of the large grey stone Empath Abbey. Both women were like opposite sides of a coin. One with jet black hair, deep hazel eyes and the tanned skin of someone who was used to being outdoors. The other with her flaming red hair and softly freckled porcelain skin could make men swoon with just a look from her emerald green eyes. The harshness of one a reflection of the softness of the other but it was obvious they were both some how connected.
"Darn it Kaj, I know she's in there. How can I get her out, if that stuffy old Father Thomas will not even let us even get a message to her." Nistra had been pounding on this same door every couple of days for the past few weeks. Today she had tried a different tactic thinking maybe Kajira's hypnotic ways would sway the man into letting them in. The still ringing echo of the heavy wooden door being slammed in there face showed her logic had a large flaw.
"I should just get Dark and slam my way threw the hallways. Then we'll see how he likes not telling me what I want to know." If a person could growl the darker woman would have been. A soft melodic laugh followed the sound of frustration. "I have a better plan, sister mine. One that should not end with us in Lord British's smelly dungeon." With her hand gently touching the armor clad shoulder she smiled. "If she's in there Nistra, she's safe. We have time."
In a different part of the abbey a small build girl with long golden hair was writing thoughtfully in a book.
Journal Entry.Thank you Father for everything you have given me. I feel truly blessed to spend my days here in the abbey. I know Father Thomas says I need to leave my fanciful thoughts behind and concentrate on my studies and on prayer but I still find my thoughts wandering to them. Wondering where they are and what they are doing. Are they as happy as me? Are they safe? Does Kaj still sing like an angel and talk without taking a breath? Did Nistra ever get the nightmare she always dreamed of? And Dorcas, she's the one I really worry about. I miss them all so terribly.
The girl pauses with a sigh, looking out the small window at the pitch black night. A soft breeze carrying the faint sound of a harp. The girl thought to herself that she must ask Father Thomas who was taking lessons, they sounded so much like home. It's probably what had brought on the most recent bout of home sickness. With another sigh she closes the heavy journal and puts out the candle to curl up on the bed. The music bringing her dreams of her childhood.
* * *
The following morning she gets up and goes in search of the old monk who has been the only family she's known since her father died. The small woven brand on the underside of her wrist the only physical reminder of the past. But there were memories. And oh the things four girls can get into. Mother had nearly had a fit when they had stolen the branding iron and used it on each other. Finally after going threw many corridors in the dusty old abbey, many of which had long since been forgotten by most of the residents there, she steps threw a moving wall into a large candle lit room.
Seeing the ancient looking arthritic man groaning while bent over a barrel of wine she can help but smile.
"Father why do you insist on doing this every day. Surely one of the others could come down and check on the wine every day."
The monk looks up his heavy woolen tunic rustling noticeably to get lost in deep amest eyes he swears he will never get used to even though she had been his constant companion for years.
"We have this conversation every morning my child. The others wouldn't know a good wine if it was poured down their throat from the Almighty himself. It falls to us, just as it always has."
"Aye Father it would appear that it does." Grabbing some parchment and a pen she starts moving up and down the long rows of barrels, checking along side him, sometimes making notes, sometimes not. "Father Tomas which one of your brothers are learning to play the harp. It sounds so sweet and so much like my sist..."
The sound of the man dropping one of the barrels stops her abruptly. "Aimil you know none of the others have any gifts for music. You must be mistaking the wind with your fanciful thoughts. You should concentrate on your studies. What of your magery? You still can not control those fireballs. What of your cartography studies? You should know better."
If she had not known him so well she may not have noticed his sudden unease. "No Sir, I am not mistaken. It's a harp and its funny. It sounds so sweet and clear. Just like my memories of my sister."
Narrowed eyes watch him closely as he suddenly becomes very interested in checking a barrel he had already checked several times before. Gently she touches him on the shoulder. "Father, you do remember telling me that a lie of omission was still a lie. And that all untruths were sinful. What are you not telling me? We have never had secrets in the past. Tell me."
With a loud sigh he finally can't hide the truth from her any longer. He tells her of the abrupt woman with hair as coal black as the nightmare she rode. And of the buxom redhead with the voice like an angel. And finally how the pair had been coming every night for the last month to sit under a tree by the chamber windows. The angel to play her sirens song and the devil to make sure no one tried to stop her.
He never got a chance to tell the girl the rest. About how he had not told her because he was afraid of what the world would do to a quiet innocent shy girl like her. Or how he could not bear it if she left. When he looked up she was simply gone and there was nothing left for him to do but to sit down heavily on one of the barrels and pray that someone would look out for her.
* * *
She was on the porch that night when the two women arrived for their nightly vigil. Without saying a word or lifting her blushing face she gently turned both the women's wrist over. More for the need of comfort than the need for confirmation.
Suddenly laughter filled the air as Kajira said "I told you it would work."
Nistra never looked away from Aimil and with a voice gruff with emotion. "It took long enough. Now, can we finally take her home?"
