Coming back home...
-
The noble warhorse stood still, its head almost following its rider glance as she looked around. Her face turned into the mirror of mixed feelings as she was approaching the south gates of Norwick. One plated gauntled grasped tightly on the horse's bridles, while images, names and even sounds from the past danced before her like living paintings, depicted by a skilled hand.
She dismounted after past the gates, guiding her horse across the town, looking around examining the changes, searching for familiar faces, though she did find none. Norwick was changed and most of its dwellers were changed too, she knew that, though she didn't know why her heart was racing that fast. The night at the Grapewine inn was not the most pleasant one, nightmares haunted her dreams: of people dieing, of old friends suffering and the feeling of pain she did remember from when she fell in combat and her spirit was called back by the priestess of Tyr. She woke up suddenly, her heart tore apart from the feeling of all the losses along her path, like a thousands blades sinking in her flesh. Unable to find anymore comfort in sleep, she left the common room and rode to the Pass, ready to defend herself from the eastlander bandits. But no one assaulted her during the last hours of darkness.
Yes things changed and deeply. She rode closer to her old Narfell home, slowly moving through the Long Road. The mercyless sun began to cast its rays over what she never really was ready to actually see. The sight of her hold home laying in ruin almost made her knees go weak and she cursed herself about that weakness. She took a deep breath and turned her horse back, heading north to the city of Peltarch, where she hoped to gather some informations and maybe finally find a familiar face…
