The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 44: A Whole New World

When she next woke up, she felt more human and her thoughts were clearer. As the dreamless sleep gave way to consciousness, she blinked, taking in her surroundings for the first time.

She was in a narrow wooden bed. The covers were plain but sufficed in keeping her warm. The pillow beneath her was not as soft as the feathered cushions she had seen in the palace, but they were practical. There was a faint medicinal smell in the air, reminding her of healers back home. Her left hand still clutched the tome and her staff; it seemed even in sleep, she was unwilling to be fully at ease.

She sat up at her own pace, wary of another stomach-lurching episode of dizziness, but it didn't come. She gave a sigh of relief: at least something was under her control again.

Tia swung her legs gingerly onto the ground, shivering as her bare feet made contact with the cold smooth wooden floor. She was dressed in a flimsy night gown, which did little to shield her from the cold when out of the warmth of the bed. The dark, tattered travel cloak she wore was nowhere to be found, as were the clothes she wore when escaping Capital; no doubt they had already been discarded due to their sorry state.

She stood up, careful, gripping the wooden bed post. The plainly decorated room swam out of focus for a short period of time but then recovered. Tia blinked her green eyes and shivered.

The room had no windows. She wondered if it was snowing. Back in Mooncliffe, fluffy snow would accumulate on their hilltop house, freezing the puddles and making trekking into the city almost impossible without adequate footwear. She and Mommu would take it in turns running to the backhouse and fetching more wood from storage, although more often than not she would bully him into doing it for her instead.

Her chest tightened at the memory. She and Mommu's laughter echoed in her mind, reminding her of times gone by. She stroked the tome, occupied. He must have survived: a year under the sole tutorship of Master Anu would not have produced an apprentice unable to look after himself. Mommu had absolute faith in her, and so she would in him also. With that steeling thought, she nodded to herself and picked up the book, noticing some garments laid out for her on the back of one of the chairs for the first time.

She padded across the barely-furnished room. Aside from the bed, the small table upon which last night's dinner was set, two wooden chairs, and the flag of Gwent hanging over the door, the room was plain. The simple décor was refreshing, compared to the frivolous decorations that swamped the palace of the kings in Capital.

She changed into the new garments, which were a washed shade of pink with long sleeves. She clumsily tied the sash around her waist. The thick layers made her feel heavy. The leggings were snug and thick and the tall boots she slipped into were strong, made of sturdy brown hide. The tunic going over the long-sleeved top fell nearly to her knees, with a split up the sides and deep pockets. It was made of heavy material and itched. She looked down at her attire; it was rather a bizarre look, but nevertheless she was grateful for having clean clothes after being clad in soiled clothing for so long.

She tucked the Book of Wind securely down her front: the thick tome fitted snugly against her chest, light in spite of its appearance. Its weight was reassuring. Her Caster staff held secure in her right hand, she made her way to the door.

The corridor was quiet. She slipped out, closing the door quietly behind her and tried to orientate herself.

The passage ran from one end to the other. Sunlight streamed through the glass windows at the top of the walls, landing on the bare stone ground. At either end, people passed by in low-volume conversations. There were scrolls lined up along the wall, but they were in a language she didn't understand.