Minstrel
Queen of Evil
She had hardly been in the jail of Windhelm for a day, but Astrata was already sure it was an experience not to be repeated. Next time, she thought, Stone-Fist would not be there to save her. The idea that the man had saved her was absurd, but true nonetheless. Whether or not she had a choice in being saved was another matter entirely.
The snowfall was surprisingly light for Windhelm, and the air was unusually still. Had Astrata's head not been tilted to the ground she would likely have seen a clear blue sky, and the glare of a pale white sun. In all the time she had been in the city, never before had she seen the world so calm. If only the weather had been this favourable when I was sleeping in the streets. But it was not just the weather than was calm, it was the city itself. There was a distinct lack of voices, of footsteps, of heavy goods being carted along the rough cobblestone.
Looking up to see if she could determine the cause for such an eerily quiet day she found something unnerving. It was them. Men, women and children alike all appeared to have ceased what they were doing in order to watch the young Nord and Breton as made their way to the Blacksmith's forge.
"That's the one," a voice hissed from amongst the crowd. "The one who burned that poor man alive."
"Shh," Another came shortly after. "She'll do the same to you if you're not careful.
Only when they neared the forge did the voices finally begin to subside. The crowds of curious citizens began to disperse, and gradually the city resumed in the usual hustle and bustle. No doubt the presence of Stone-Fist was the cause of this. What would have happened if he hadn't been there? Perhaps they would have beaten her to death in the streets. Astrata wanted to run away, to find a corner and cry until she could cry no more, but now was not the time.
"Lars here bet that you two wouldn’t show up." Stone-Fist began. That's all they were to him, a joke, a bet. She hardly paid attention to what followed.
It was when Stone-Fist walked away that Astrata noticed the robed figure by the forge. She could sense that Serezha had noticed the man too, but neither of them knew why he was there. Perhaps he was one of the trackers who was watching them? No, that would be far too obvious. She was ready to turn to Serezha and suggest that they collect their gear when the man approached.
"Astrata, don't be afraid." He said. "My name is Wuunferth, I am the court wizard of Windhelm." He grabbed Astrata's wrist firmly, to which she responded by attempting to back away. Before she had a chance the elderly wizard placed a hefty book under her arm and looked her in the eye with a frighteningly intense gaze. "Take this. Read it, learn all it has to offer. I heard what you did to that man, burned him alive, yes? That was unfortunate, but do not be ashamed. You have a gift, girl. You don't know it yet, but you do."
"A gift? I..."
"Yes, yes, a gift. You may not know what to do now, but you will. I'm sorry, but I must go now. Good luck Astrata." The mage turned sharply on one heel, ready to walk away when he stopped in his tracks. He turned back slowly, this time looking at Serezha. "You. You are weak now like Astrata, yes? You may suffer setbacks, but you will be strong. When this is all over..." His eyes widened as if he had said something that he wasn't supposed to, and after a moment of silence he disappeared into the crowd.
The snowfall was surprisingly light for Windhelm, and the air was unusually still. Had Astrata's head not been tilted to the ground she would likely have seen a clear blue sky, and the glare of a pale white sun. In all the time she had been in the city, never before had she seen the world so calm. If only the weather had been this favourable when I was sleeping in the streets. But it was not just the weather than was calm, it was the city itself. There was a distinct lack of voices, of footsteps, of heavy goods being carted along the rough cobblestone.
Looking up to see if she could determine the cause for such an eerily quiet day she found something unnerving. It was them. Men, women and children alike all appeared to have ceased what they were doing in order to watch the young Nord and Breton as made their way to the Blacksmith's forge.
"That's the one," a voice hissed from amongst the crowd. "The one who burned that poor man alive."
"Shh," Another came shortly after. "She'll do the same to you if you're not careful.
Only when they neared the forge did the voices finally begin to subside. The crowds of curious citizens began to disperse, and gradually the city resumed in the usual hustle and bustle. No doubt the presence of Stone-Fist was the cause of this. What would have happened if he hadn't been there? Perhaps they would have beaten her to death in the streets. Astrata wanted to run away, to find a corner and cry until she could cry no more, but now was not the time.
"Lars here bet that you two wouldn’t show up." Stone-Fist began. That's all they were to him, a joke, a bet. She hardly paid attention to what followed.
It was when Stone-Fist walked away that Astrata noticed the robed figure by the forge. She could sense that Serezha had noticed the man too, but neither of them knew why he was there. Perhaps he was one of the trackers who was watching them? No, that would be far too obvious. She was ready to turn to Serezha and suggest that they collect their gear when the man approached.
"Astrata, don't be afraid." He said. "My name is Wuunferth, I am the court wizard of Windhelm." He grabbed Astrata's wrist firmly, to which she responded by attempting to back away. Before she had a chance the elderly wizard placed a hefty book under her arm and looked her in the eye with a frighteningly intense gaze. "Take this. Read it, learn all it has to offer. I heard what you did to that man, burned him alive, yes? That was unfortunate, but do not be ashamed. You have a gift, girl. You don't know it yet, but you do."
"A gift? I..."
"Yes, yes, a gift. You may not know what to do now, but you will. I'm sorry, but I must go now. Good luck Astrata." The mage turned sharply on one heel, ready to walk away when he stopped in his tracks. He turned back slowly, this time looking at Serezha. "You. You are weak now like Astrata, yes? You may suffer setbacks, but you will be strong. When this is all over..." His eyes widened as if he had said something that he wasn't supposed to, and after a moment of silence he disappeared into the crowd.