So yeah, This is a story that is set between the two mayor campaigns in which my character Karoteigh O'Eadu was played. As such this can be seen as a red thread between the two for my character's character development n' stuff.

As a note, I may be shifting between some gramatic times during the writing, but it's difficult for me to fix that as it always sounds to make sense to me! It's a style I suppose, though arguably not the best one to have.

- Anyway, the text is down below. On a related note, the story mentioned in the text, The blunt soul, is posted also on my account. So go read it if you're currious. or just want to do something anti-productive for a while.

Also, as a final note: Coven & The world of Daykia is copyrighted Heavymetalmirage


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Star-crossed: Between Past & Future

>>A Story by Black-Draco<<

”Coven, hold up. Wait!”


The boy pulled himself up over the edge of the cliff.


“Wha’cha yelling about? You’re doing just fine.”


The girl watched the boy gasping for air from her seat in an old oak’s crown. She did little to hide her amusement over the sight. “Don’t tell me that the future spirit-handler can’t handle a little climbing.”


”A little?” he coughed in response. “This rock is the size of a castle tower. Why in Naharess would you want to climb it?”


As he regained his breath he looked up at the black haired girl who rested against the tree trunk above him. Her scraped legs hung lazily on each side of a branch as she enjoyed the afternoon warmth from the sun. “Because of the view. And because you needed to get outside Karo. Too much reading in dark rooms is not good for you.”


“Says the self-proclaimed bard.”


She smirks at him. “At least I’m reading out in the fresh air. I don’t read about the world while hiding from it. I’m out here living it. That’s why we’re here. To see Solas as he reaches the West Bastions.”


Karo huffed in response. “If you wanted to see the view we could have taken the road up here. That would have been easier, you know.”


He heard a ‘thump’ behind him as Coven jumped down from the tree. He always wondered how she could do such feats without getting hurt. In many ways Coven remained a mystery. Unlike the rest of her family she had no interest in speaking to spirits or seeking guidance beyond the boundaries of the mortal realm. Admittedly, her easygoing nature was part of why he liked her as a friend. Her view on things was often a welcoming break from the studies of the supernatural. If she would just allow him to finish more of his studies from time to time, he would not get in trouble with his mentor as often as he did.


“Where’s the fun in taking the road? Roads only lead to places that are already known. And the more traffic a road has, the fewer surprises remain on it. Adventures are there where few travel. Mysteries are hidden where no one sees them.”


“So you did this because you were bored?”


She stretched as she looks Karo over. It had been four years since he arrived to the Lakelands to become a shaman. Hailing from another clan meant that the boy stood out among her own clansmen. At first she had thought him to be just another dusty scroll reader, but she had since found that he was not like that. Sure he studied hard under her mother’s watchful eyes, but his view on things kept him apart from the others. It was part of why he was interesting, and a good friend that had more in common with her than many others in the village.


“Yep. And because I can.” She says with her hands behind her head. “Life is only worth living if you take the time to meet its challenges. We will remember this day because we did something we don’t usually do. Life is an adventure as long as you’re willing to take a different route.”


He looks at her for a moment before smiling. This was part of why he liked her. Everything was special as long as one made it so.


She smiled back at him. “I know a way to open the barrier. It’s our only hope to stop her.”


“Huh”? he answered confused. As he blinks the scenery changes from the idyllic setting to that of a dark corridor. Around him stand his friends and companions. Sigrund, Quexa, Fen, Had’til…


“W-wha?” He looks down himself to see that he is wearing his leather armor, spear and mirror-shied. As he looks up he is facing a barrier of orange energy that blocks their way.


“By my sacrifice, you will be granted entrance to Eo. Stop her.” He turns around. Coven stands behind them starring at the cold stone floor. Behind the young bard stands a shadow with red glowing eyes. One of its hands has a firm grip on the young woman’s shoulder.


“No…”


“Don’t forget me. Stop Eo while you still can.” She says as the darkness starts to envelope her.


“No.”

The young shaman calls out as he tries to reach her. The more he runs toward her, the more she is out of his reach so he tries to run faster, throwing the shield and spear away to increase his speed. The stone under his feet becomes mud that clings to his leg at every kick. For each step he sinks deeper into the grey mass until only his head is above. “Coven!”


The shadow turns to him now. It hangs above him mockingly as it plays nonchalantly with a bang of his hair. “A deal is a deal, boy. You know this better than the rest. Her will and fate is mine, given by her freely. Such is the deal. She will forever be my servant.”


He grinds his teethes in response. “Nothing is final until no one’s left to fight for it.” The shadow chuckles genuine in response. “Finally some true fighting spirit! Finally you start acting like a man. It almost hurt me to tell you this, but… you’re too late.”


Before he can do anything Karo feels a large hand digging its claws into his skull before pushing him under the liquid floor.

---

“No!”


*Crash*


Karo gasps for air as he wildly stares into the air. It takes him some moments before he realized where he is. He is in the library of Kellen, a private collection of books that belongs to a Rûnhari family.


“A dream… Nothing more than a bad dream. Memories, but not as they happened.”


He sits there for a moment to calm down. On the floor lie the pieces of the clay mug that had been on the table until recently. Luckily it had been empty, its ale long since gone. The shaman sighed as he gets up to pick the pieces. It is not the first time he would spasm from a bad dream, but amazingly all his notes had remained on the table this time. “So much for small blessings.” Mentally he noted to himself that he talked to himself again. It was a trait that began to appear when he hadn’t talked to other persons in days. So by his estimate he had been here for about three days now.


He placed the pieces on the table. How long had he been sleeping? The sky outside the window was dark, and he had probably been studying through dinner once again. So what, four hours worth of sleep? He groaned and rubbed his sore eyes. What had he been reading again? He remembered that he had found something useful in the diary he had picked from the shelves earlier.


He sat on the chair once more. The table in front of him was covered under a blanket of notes and books. He found his quill and quickly tracked through his process until he found his latest entry. He had found a story that the owner of the diary had written about, a story he had encountered during his travels near the borders of Dolmyr. The tale were called ‘The blunt soul’ and its morale had been that the more a mortal made deals with the gods, the less worth he would become. In the end the mortal would become so worthless that no gods would have anything to do with him.
It was a depressing tale that did not contain any of the information that Karo had been seeking. However the story still contained a useful warning that Karo had noted down.


“For what I’m planning I’ll need all the preparations I can gather.” He mumbled to himself as he set his notes into order.


His eye keeps burning. After a while he gave up and decided that he needed to focus on something else for a while. Something that was not a book in this blasted library. As he got up he stretched before going over to the window. A starless night met him. The silence was total except for the sound of burning wood in the fireplace. The sound helped him relax for some reason. It reminded him of a simpler time around the fireplace at home.


“The darkness does not seem to have an end out there.” He notes to himself as he leaned against the window frame. He catches a reflection of himself in the glass and it takes him a while to recognize the tired eyes that looks back at him. He seems to have lost some weight during the duration of his search. His beard has grown longer, so has his bangs. His hair has always been a mixture of light brown and grey, but now he’s starting to notice some white ones underneath.


How long had it been since she had sacrificed herself for the sake of all? Two years? Sounds about right he thought. And for two years he had been travelling the kingdoms in search of a way to redeem her, to save her from his own foolishness. Two years of little rest that was finally starting to catch up with him. He has been searching in libraries, listened to old tales told in backwater villages, discussed with priests and summoners alike. He have enough notes to publish a book if he so wanted. But his goal was elsewhere. To free her. To give back what she desired the most, what he had been too thickheaded to give. To give her the chance to freely venture the roads again, with that genuine smile of joy she portrayed when she did what she loved the most. To tell her that he was sorry, that she meant so much to him.


To tell her those words he dared to never say. Words he now regretted more than anything that he had not shared.


He sighed once more and removed his eyes from the blinding darkness. Beside the window stood a bust in white stone, portraying some bald, bearded philosopher with a name he could never hope to pronounce. Below the name was what appeared to be a quotation of some sort. He leaned down to better see what it said, aided only by the soft glow form the fireplace.


“Without hardships, does life have a meaning? Without hardships to overcome, what is the value of life?”


Karo smirked. Why did he just read that in her voice? He looked back at the window. Life may be interesting with some challenges now and then, but surely some relaxation was desired as well. If every day was an adventure, then how would you make sure that it would not become the dull norm?


“Wait, what’s that?” Two red eyes in the dark? Karo narrowed his eyes and leaned forward toward the window. Who was looking at him? He stood there for a moment before he realized that the eyes were not outside. They were reflections of something behind him.


Spinning around he prepared for the worst, but was meet with nothing.


“Hallo?” He called out. Nothing but his own echo meet him.


“Hallo?” He calls out louder as he began to walk down the rows of bookcases in search of someone, or something. A chill runs down his spine and he immediately takes out his chalice. The hard wooden vessel spurts into life as a blue flame starts rising, licking the wood without burning it. The light allows him to search every little corner of the dusty room. Minutes of searching reveals nothing.


“I must be more tired than I thought. ‘Starting to see illusions n’ cacha… I’ll continue reading that diary tomorrow” He tells himself as he returns to the table to fetch his papers. He leaves the diary on the table for the next day’s studying.


A minute later silence falls once again over the library as the young man leaves the room. The fire in the fireplace is no more than illuminating coal that cling to its remaining food. The low murmur of the glow is only head by one. A shape steps out from one of the shadows and gracefully walks over to the table. The fading light reveals it to be a young woman wearing in a fitting bordeaux dress. Her frame is slender and fit. From her back spurts two small clutches of raven black feathers, a mocking impression of the wings that may one day be fully grown in their place. The lower face of the black haired woman is covered by a long scarf that seems to enhance the dark illumination of her coal eyes. She reaches for the old tome and begins to read a small passage in it. For several minutes she remains unnatural still before she breaks her own trance. Without revealing any emotions she throws the diary into the drying fires that quickly begins to consume the dusty yellow pages.


Before the book has become ashes, the mystical woman has disappeared as silently as she had arrived.