There was a disgruntled noise from the Chevalier de Preságe and comments of displeasure as Sigurd Halfhand unbuckled his breeches by the side of the angry river, deep in the Emerald forest.
The Halfhand didn't care as Sir Gervais echoed Jeffry's protests. As the nearby rapids drowned out their complaints, he proceeded to relieve himself into the once clear and fresh water.
Sigurd laughed while watching the Chevalier de Preságe's wild gestures, but continued to urinate in the wild river. The deafening crashing sound of water meant that their communications were futile.
Despite the anger toward Sigurd, Loldirr remained unaffected by their gestures and Sigurd's immaturity. Her focus remained steadfast on the opposite side of the river. Her eyes appeared to remain fixed on one position, a set of bushes that appeared to meld into the forest that towered behind it.
She did not move, as if all time had stood still by the bushes that appeared unaffected by human interaction for quite some time.
It wasn't until Sir Gervais gently touched her on the shoulder that she was aware of her surroundings once again; and the tears that had damped her broken cheek.
"Is everything ok?" he asked, his concern even visible on his normally lifeless face.
Loldirr turned away, quickly wiping away the tears that had plagued her face. Quickly turning back, she forced a smile, "Yes, we need to find the raft to cross the river" she reacted.
Before Sir Gervais could respond, Loldirr had started to walk up the river, away from the crashing rapids and toward a more serene part of the river.
As Sigurd Halfhand restored his breeches, with Jeffry Thibodeaux following him in protest, they followed Loldirr north, eager to find a way across the river.
Reaching a rope that was securely fastened to trees on both sides of the river, Loldirr seemed to briefly stop breathing as she watched a raft bobble carefully up and down on the far side.
"Everything ok?" Sir Gervais asked once more.
Loldirr nodded, refusing to initially speak as her eyes remained directly on the raft.
As Sir Gervais carefully placed his hand on the shoulder of the bewildered huntress. Loldirr appeared to jump as the touch of the Death Wraith broke her trance.
"It's nothing," Loldirr commented, her eyes instantly glancing at everywhere but the spymaster, "Let us find a way across."
"Loldirr," Sir Gervais took a stance directly in her line of sight, his lifeless eyes instantly grabbing her attention. "I feel your sorrow, just as you feel mine. This place brings a pain in you that feels familiar, and unnerving."
Loldirr nodded, before taking a deep breath. "I thank you for your concern, what I feel, is of no consequence, we need to find a way across the river."
Before Gervais could interact with her again, Loldirr had already disengaged from the conversation and was standing beside the riverbank.
"The water appears somewhat high," Sir Jeffry Thibodeaux commented as he took his place beside Loldirr.
Loldirr took a glance at his armour before gazing across the wild flowing water. "The river, it's much higher than usual, there's no way we can safely walk across it."
"Then we need to walk around," Jeffry responded.
"That would take days off our journey," Gervais reacted, a hiss expelled as the thought of the lost time occurred to him.
"Why not just hold the rope, and traverse across," Sigurd Halfhand commented, eager to involve himself in the decision-making.
Loldirr glanced at Jeffry's armour once again, "It's far too risky, we'll have to travel around. It's unlikely that the raft will be pushed back to this side of the river."
Sir Gervais moved his way over to Loldirr, keen to stand beside her without drawing attention to himself. "My lady," he said, grabbing her attention, "we need not walk around, I believe we have the abilities here to traverse across with ease."
Loldirr turned toward the cloaked figure, her saddened face appearing somewhat destitute under the circumstances. "What do you suggest?"
"Are you not the Elemental Sorceress, isn't the ability to manipulate water within your fingertips?"
Loldirr looked across to the raft as it bobbled helplessly on the other side of the river. She recalled the last time she had been here, how the water receded around her as her cries of anguish ignited the skies, and how the full force of the river killed endless scores of men while keeping her wholly intact. She hadn't thought much of it then, but the actions of that day were not natural.
"I don't know how to," Loldirr commented, staring at her calloused hands as if they were not her own.
"You survived the pyre at Lionmane, survived the Shadow in the frozen wastelands of Jorguldheim, broke the Necromancer's hold over me and yet you feel that traversing a small expanse of water is out of your grasp?" Sir Gervais commented, his face almost showing a stain of disappointment.
"Survived, yes," Loldirr replied, "actions caused during situations where life and death were just a whisper away. I can not control the elements at my will, I react to survive, or to make sure the people around me survive. I control my powers like a chicken without a head, running around endlessly without any thought or reason."
Gervais chuckled at her analogy and was reminded of her upbringing, a village girl with an exceptional education. How many Empress' could he name that knew of the extent of a chicken's demise?
"The Necromancer fears you, Emperor Arnaud III fears you, and soon the Ruvians will learn to fear you. This fear is not without merit, you are the Elemental Sorceress, possibly the most powerful being to walk the lands. Perhaps your powers have reacted to your situations, but it does not change the fact that you can command water, that you can manipulate the second sphere and this river is simply no match for you."
Loldirr studied the words of the former spymaster, taking in each word that he said as if it was the single most valuable piece of truth that she would hear.
As she studied him, Loldirr could see why he was considered such an impressive asset to the man that she called usurper. She had looked toward Jarendrud Sagard, at Ravenscourt, for wisdom in the realms of espionage and had been impressed with his insight. Sir Gervais appeared to be even wiser, and infinitely scarier. It always came as a shock that he now stood against the very man whom he had once worked for so many winters.
A glance across the river, Loldirr took a step forward, and as she stood at the riverbank, she raised her hand to feel the strong currents washing against the raft.
She focused on the sound, the crashing waves and the buffeting raft, before focusing on its power. As she raised her hands and closed her eyes, she could feel the strength of the water fighting against her but as she concentrated more she could feel it mould within her mind.
As she shaped it and mastered it, she felt the rejuvenating power flow through her, but as she opened her eyes once more, the river remained in its initial state, powerful and free.
"I can't do it," she said, looking and feeling dejected by her efforts.
"You were here before?" Sir Gervais asked, glancing over to the raft that appeared so far away.
"Yes," Loldirr replied, refusing to elaborate further.
"This place, it brings you great sadness, no? I can sense your endless sorrow, the pain this place of serenity and power brings you." Gervais commented, his lifeless face enhancing the grief that Loldirr was feeling.
As much as she tried, Loldirr could feel a tear drip down her cheek, trickling over her scar that engrained itself into her face. "My closest friend was..." she breathed in deeply, "taken from me." Her thoughts raced back to the moment she watched her lifelong friend, Willis Billingslea, have his life ended by the Death Wraith, Sir Wendon Pykeston.
Despite two seasons passing since the incident, she could recall it vividly, the face of fear on her plump friend's face, the resignation to his fate, and the pleasure it brought her adversary as Loldirr slumped to her knees in the river that she stood close to now.
Anger seemed to fill her mind, she desperately wanted to recall Willis's smile, to see the naivety that followed his far-from-graceful moves, but every time she tried, her thoughts returned to his body slumping to the floor and his head being thrown unceremoniously into the river.
"That pain you feel, you felt it then?" Sir Gervais asked, pushing Loldirr back to reality.
"It was more then," Loldirr replied.
"But the river followed your command, despite not knowing of your abilities?"
Loldirr, once again, recalled that fateful day. Yet, instead of Willis' death, she recollected what immediately conspired afterwards. On her knees, water all around her, unaware that she should have been smothered by it. The huge crashing wave, the screams of her enemies as they were washed away, remaining unharmed despite the river's ferocious anger.
Yet it wasn't the river's anger, it was hers. Just like at Lionmane, as the flames tore at her feet, her anger caused it to rupture and engulf many that wanted her dead. At Jorguldheim, as the Shadow sliced open her cheek, blood dripping into the snow, her fear caused the endless fog, to hide her from her undead pursuer. At Ravenscourt, as the Fæordic arrows flew high above her, her excitement caused the wind to push the arrows further into the sky, killing many of the usurper's forces. She recalled the feelings, the power they brought, but none more so than the dread she felt as the undead man next to her almost ended friend Ethelston's life.
Loldirr closed her eyes once more and raised out her hand. Instead of trying to push back the overbearing feeling of guilt and sorrow for her friend Willis Billingslea, she embraced it and the ache it filled her body, as much as she wanted the feeling to end, it was not something that she could ignore.
"What's happening with the river?" she could hear Jeffry abruptly comment.
"I've never seen... Is she doing this?" Sigurd Halfhand reacted.
Loldirr opened her eyes to see the river had settled, and the water levels had reduced. As she did, she could feel her cheeks cold and wet, the tears pouring from her eyes as she wished she could embrace and hold Willis once more.
"We should cross," Sir Gervais reacted, "Her power is finite and we do not want to be caught in the middle."
Loldirr could feel it, her strength fading with each second. Quicker than it had ever done before, and as she glanced at the Death Wraith beside her, she realised the continuous energy required to keep him in this realm was making her fatigued and fragile.
Taking her first steps forward into the water, the lapping of the river against her boots felt insignificant, yet with each step, her feet felt heavier and the trek to the far side of the river felt impossible.
Reaching halfway over the river, Loldirr felt like it had taken an eternity whereas mere seconds had gone passed. As she looked down, she could see that the river was now pushing against her shins.
Her legs buckled under her, causing a horrendous splash and as the water level raised higher, she coughed abruptly, provoking Sir Gervais to take action.
"Sigurd, carry her, we may not make it across otherwise."
The look of distrust seemed to plaster itself onto Sigurd's face, "Why me?" he asked, his voice even more callous than the words spoken.
Without hesitation, Jeffry pushed his way passed the Fæordic warlord, his glare more piercing than the sword strapped to his hip. He did not speak, he did not question, just simply walked to the drenched red-haired sorceress and picked her to her feet before raising her onto his shoulder. Despite his armour, he picked her with ease, as if she was paper, and as he pushed his way passed Sigurd once more, the distance to the other side of the river was rapidly decreasing.
While the distance decreased, the water level rose.
Now pushing passed their waists, alarm was starting to set in. Only metres to the edge, each step was a struggle, and even though they were trying to move quicker, the river's angry current forced their steps to become laboured.
Sir Gervais was now struggling to progress, and Jeffry's armour was proving to be more of a hindrance than protection. Only Sigurd was making substantial progress with his lighter armour.
"You, must.." Gervais coughed as the water started pushing against his chest, "you must get her across," he spoke with an urgency to Sigurd that seemed to make him grunt in frustration.
With the water pushing higher, Sigurd looked toward the shore before returning his eyes to Jeffry and the struggling Loldirr on his shoulder. Within moments he would be on the shore, yet with the way the water was rapidly rising, only he would make it. Forcing his way through the rushing current he pushed his way behind Jeffry, giving him the extra strength he needed to fight the current.
"Come on you oaf," Sigurd reacted as he and Jeffry pushed through the rising water, and with their combined efforts, they quickly reached the riverbank.
Jeffry didn't think, dropping Loldirr unceremoniously onto the riverbank just to turn to the struggling Sir Gervais who was now almost immersed in water.
Sigurd cursed, knowing that he was so close to the river's edge, but immediately he turned to assist Jeffry to ensure the struggling Death Wraith would not be swept away by the river.
They both spluttered, grabbing a hold of Sir Gervais before pushing him toward their goal, and as the Death Wraith collapsed on the riverbank, struggling to keep his eyes open, Sigurd and Jeffry collapsed on either side of them, watching as the river returned to its former self.
"You helped?" Jeffry spluttered, a small forced smile appeared toward Sigurd.
"I refuse for you to be remembered as a hero, and for me not to," Sigurd replied.
Jeffry chuckled, "No one would have remembered this day if we had failed."
Sigurd grunted before quickly standing and turning away from his smiling counterpart.
Jeffry wanted to goad his Fæordic colleague, but more pressing questions plagued his mind. "Man of the dead, why did you not help?"
Sir Gervais failed to even raise his head at the question, instead lying almost lifeless on the muddy floor. "Loldirr and I are bound, connected by a thread that is stretched when we are stretched. If Loldirr is under extreme exhaustion, then so am I. The energy she just expelled was far greater than I anticipated."
Loldirr coughed, her red hair turning black as she tried to move in the mud, "It was not like that before," she commented, confused.
"You did not have a Death Wraith before," Gervais replied, forcing himself onto his back.
Loldirr raised her head slightly, recognising the bushes that sat behind them. Images of Willis flooded back to her, anger flowing through her aching muscles as she wished she could have done more, yet despite having more power than before, she felt like she had less strength. The river had zapped so much out of her, and with her journey to ultimately battle the forces of death, one question plagued her mind that she had to ask.
"If I struggle with my powers when I only have one Death Wraith, what could I possibly do against the Necromancer who effortlessly controls twelve?"