Storytime pt. 2

(the last story was inspired by the potential of Christian's character in my wheel of time roleplaying game, a discontinued line of pen&paper RPG's from Wizards of the Coast, this one's inspired by a potential character by JeanDamme, or Jan Øyvind as he is known as for some. consider this chapter two of the prologue to a story I will tell to noone but those involved)

The night was cold, freezing in the way that it only does in the threefold land, what the wetlanders unwittingly calls "the waste". Aryn sat guard. It did not matter that she was the apprentice the wise ones had taught the longest, she always got stuck with doing the most. It didn't help that she had the spark either, she cursed the day they had found out. She hadn't known what had happened. A friend who got hurt suddenly became better, and the same night she had come down with a heavy fever. She had gotten attention then, now it was only hard work. Not like with her spearsisters. She shouldn't think these thoughts though, this was important for her sept, for her clan. She would become a wise one one day, and complaining about working hard now when in the future she would have to be working others the same way would only disgrace her. She would work with pride, no matter how tired, or hungry or thirsty she was. She turned as she heard a whimper from one of the tents.

Aryn, walking across the camp to investigate finally found where the disturbance came from. It was one of the bigger ones, the more important ones. The one of her mistresses, the wise ones. It was not her place to know what was going on in there, not yet. It had been spelled out clearly to her once in a similar situation, and she had no need to be punished with more assignments. She turned to return to her post right when a scream coming from the tent behing her woke up the entire camp.

The wise ones hade made it clear there was nothing to worry about, and that everyone should go back to sleep, or rather, seeing how much energy they had, they could all start the day. Aryn noticed the chief about to protest the latter choice, as he had barely gotten any sleep himself and they had a long trip ahead of them, but he was quickly silenced by a glare from the wise ones. It could have been anything, but from experience, whatever this was it was important for something.

Five days passed. Though she heard the occational whisper between wise ones, no other sign that anything extraordinary had happened came, except for the occational heated discussion between the wise ones and the clan chief, which wasn't really unusual, just not as common as it was in this period. But on that fith day, Aryn was taken aside by the chief. 
"over by the rocks over there, in their shadows, lies your old gear. You may not be able to use spears anymore, but your old friends made a wise one's knife out of the tip of yours. Everything else you'll need for the journey will be there as well." he said, leaving before the baffled Aryn could react. She had no time to shake the shock of and realize any meaning to wat had been said before Arinnya, the first among the clan's wise ones laid her hand on Aryn's shoulder. "You will have to leave, now. You will travel through the wetlands to a tavern in Caemlyn that bears the sign of a golden animal, a horse with horns. What you do there will be made clear when you get there, I cannot say more."

"This will be your test of strengh Aryn", she added. "May you always find water and shade as you journey". Aryn hesitated, before responding politely "may you always find water and shade, wise one". Still puzzled, trying to figure out why they would need to send her to Caemlyn for her test, she went for her gear. It was all there. Her mothers cloak, who had belonget to her mother, and her mother before that, and was thus torn to shreads at points that had brushed through rough terrain and sharp rocks. The old buckler her father had worn in his last battle, still looking like it had been harmed less than her father had been, though somebody had clearly made some dents and cuts in that as well. She made a smile, she had been honored by her parents, now it was her turn to bring honor to her name. If wise ones and the clan chief agreed something had to be done, even reluctantly agreeing, it would have to be done, no matter how little reason there seemed for doing so. So she started walking...

Thus begins the story of Aryn.