The Yawning Grave

From his pocket as he speaks, Kieran slides a heavy golden locket to Auden from across the table. At first her fingers tremble just above it, as if afraid it'd burn her fingertips. Kieran falls quiet as Auden gingerly picks the locket up, the metal cooling against her skin and heavy in her fingertips. Holding it closer to her face to examine, she can see the initials carved there, her mother and father's, as well as the small latch on the side. 

Everything around Auden dims as she gently squeezes the heavy golden oval locket open, and inside her eyes fall upon two portraits. One of her father and though Auden could visualize all the walls and enclaves at her aunt's estate that his portrait was hung. In those however he was younger but somehow... more somber. The weight of Rorshin on his shoulders already. In this portrait he was older, his dark chestnut auburn hair had grown out and he wore it half pulled away in a braid away from his face. 

He'd grown stubble in this picture, and Auden could practically feel the warmth of the large grin painted on his lips. It was so familiar and yet so... not that Auden felt a lump swell in her throat. Across the table Kieran shifts, half a mind to lay a hand on her shoulder in some comforting solidarity. Quickly though he thinks better of it and leans back in his seat. The moment feels intimate, private and like he's intruding. However Auden hardly notices him as her gaze falls to the portrait on the right side of the locket. 

The woman, no her mother, was possibly the most breathtaking woman that Auden had laid eyes on. She had a junoesque beauty, classically full baby-pink lips that seemed to hold some playful traces of a pout. Her eyes were a large, pure and striking violet that provided a pleasing juxtaposition to her pale complexion, unblemished saved the subtle, painted perfect blush on her cheeks. Her hair a silvery, ashen blonde thick and full that fell straight to her elbows. However, it was the ears that Auden noticed. 

It was rumored the mages in the Shining City were the descendants of the children that came from Tasoula and a mortal male. It was said that to this day the mages retained traces of the goddess' divinity in their blood. Silvery hair, an almost statuesque perfected beauty, and above all the elongated pointed ears. Just like Auden's mother. The laughter she'd wanted to howl at his words dies in her throat as the locket seems to grow heavier in Auden's fingers. She's not aware of the tears that trickle down her cheeks until they begin to fall upon her finger. 

Trying for words, a million questions dancing on her tongue, she can only manage a strangled sort of noise. Clearing her throat she quickly wipes them away, but not before Kieran's ever sharp gaze notices. Thankfully he doesn't pry, doesn't comment favoring instead to glance away as if to give her a moment of privacy to gather her composure.

"I've never seen her before." The statement slips out almost unbidden and it's Kieran who feels pinned beneath the weight of Auden's mismatched eyes, framed by her choppy, uneven bangs. 

"I... Figured." For once the playfulness, the teasing and mocking is gone from his tone and in its place a somber understanding. That brimming and overflowing confidence is something softer, and hesitant. 

"You didn't know her..." It's not so much a question, but he still nods at her words. 

"My parents knew her. Some of the other members as well. I'll point them out to you later if you'd like to speak with them." She can tell from the unspoken apology in his eyes, Kieran doesn't think it's much. Offering her nothing but the memories and ghosts of the family she'd never known. But for Auden, it's everything. 

"Is this... All you have of hers?" She tries, failing to keep the hope from her voice as Auden's fingers gently hover over the locket on the table in front of her. He shifts as if debating something but in the end gives a small nod that seems out of place for him.

"I can take you to their graves." He's not sure if it's too much too soon for the girl who'd only known that beautiful, cruel life within walls and estates. To his surprise, and he'd admit approval she nods, her copper waves bouncing about her face. 

"Is it far?" The answer doesn't seem to matter either way to her, as Auden's already on her feet, grabbing her cloak from the bench beside her and fastening it with practiced, deft fingers. Kieran shakes his head. He watches as Auden picks the locket up from the tables and after a moment of hesitation slips it about her neck. He allows her privacy to her thoughts as they walk, Kieran slightly ahead as he leads them through the village. 

For the first time Auden doesn't notice the gazes of others, the eyes of strangers upon her and Kieran as she follows him from camp and back to the gentle rolling valley of their territory. Her legs are still sore and protest as they walk, her feet heavy and unnaturally heavy but she says nothing. The small dirt path was narrow, but the terrain was easy enough and the tall dying grass was oddly relaxing.

The scent of earthy, loamy soil and wild grass and fresh air are soothing and they calm Auden's racing thoughts as she follows Kieran. It wasn't as if a single locket proved everything, but she hadn't sensed any lie from him. Which led Auden to her next question; had her aunt known? All these years she treated Auden like she was some poorly contained disaster, some feral thing waiting to maul... Had she known what Tabitha was? Kept Auden in the dark while punishing her all the same for it? 

The dirt path eventually, lazily winds up a gently rolling hill and a small temple-like building from ancient, sun-bleached white stone stands proudly at the top. Adorned in flowers and offerings Kieran comes to a draw beside it. "We hold some of our most important ceremonies and rituals for Tasoula here, where the emissaries lead us." Drawing her arm over her brow to wipe the sweat Auden gives a small nod. As she joins his side at the top of the hill she notices where Kieran's gaze slides. 

Further down the hill, a small grove of dead trees stands silently. There's a feeling of foreboding as a shiver runs down Auden's spine. Some illogical fear whispers for her to turn back, go back to the village anywhere but that dead swath of land below her. Perceptive and perhaps kinder than he let on, Kieran doesn't push Auden forward. Rather he trails a little behind Auden and it's only when she lets out a deep breath and continues forward does Kieran as well. 

The shadows feel deeper, their footsteps muffled as they make their way down the path. Or at least what used to be one. It was clear it wasn't used very often anymore, overgrown with weeds and scattered loose pebbles and dirt beneath their feet. The grass here wasn't simply dead, it was gone; only a field of empty hard-packed dirt and skeletal burnt trees remain. That sense of ominous foreboding only grows in the pit of her stomach, the clouds passing over the sun only serving to deepen the shadows about them. 

As they pass a bend in the path, what was once a cabin swims into view. The cabin's walls, what is left of it, are overgrown with vine and moss. The roof is practically gone, having crumbled in on itself long ago. Violence unforgiving and brutal had happened here, Auden could feel it in her blood as she hovered at the edge of the clearing that foreboding chill that tingles down the length of her spine. It's too easy for her to picture the smoking hull this cabin had been left as, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels Kieran's hand upon her shoulder, calloused and rough but warm.

"Their graves are behind the house." The information is offered freely as Auden makes a small sound, not quite managing to get a solid 'yes' of acknowledgment past her lips. "I'll stay here if you'd like." The offer is unsure, as is his posture as he shifts his weight foot to foot flitting between the ruined home and the svelte redhead. 

"Would you come?" Her whisper is nearly swallowed by the sound of the wind, the trees and cabin creaking about them.

"Of course." His agreement is breathed with equal softness, as if neither quite want to break the stillness that seemed to envelop the cabin. This time, Kieran again follows her lead a few steps behind as she moves silently across the scorched earth and dirt. A week, even two days ago the thought that she'd take solace in the unwavering presence of the wolf at her back would of been enough to make her laugh. But in that moment as she rounds the corner of the house her gaze immediately drawn to the two small and simple headstones that sat on the edge of the yard by the line of dead trees, Kieran's presence was exactly that a solace to Auden.

For a half moment she thinks her knees may buckle, give out from under her but Auden draws upon that inner steel. Just like that night she'd fled into the woods, she counts each step and all too soon she finds herself before the small stones. They'd been weathered by nearly two decades of time and storm, but it was clear they'd been cared for. Her parent's names were carved into the stone and a simple year of birth and death. Auden had always known that they'd been young, but the reality of the small stretch of years makes her throat thicken as she swallows a lump. 

"What happened to them? Here?" The muscles in her jaw jump as she clenches her teeth together, her shoulders nearly bowing beneath the weight she felt of this place. With a soft sigh, Kieran from a few paces back joins Auden by her side his own gaze lowered on the graves with a mute respect. 

"When the first of my people came to this forest, they were refugees. They had a wild sort of magic, attuned with the world around them. Not quite mages but not quite human either and wanted nowhere." The history lesson takes her by surprise, but she's thankful for the break in the oppressive silence of this dread place. "We'd wandered from the Tavish Barrens all the way to these forests."

"The humans would not welcome us, and there were creatures here darker and older that picked us off in the night. Tasoula was the only one of the deities who saw their plight who took pity on them. She granted us a fraction of her magic, to arm ourselves with the shape and claws and teeth of her sacred animal. She sent us her emissaries from the Shining City, and we established ourselves here with fang and blood." Something tired, weary settles over his face as he shakes his head. 

"But nothing is given freely. The things that were here first dug their talons into these lands. The things that were wrought from nightmares and blood. They too worshiped Tasoula, a darker aspect of both magic and the new moon from when the world was new and untamed. She led us to a home, but we have to defend it. Fight against those twisted things. She still sends us her emissaries, her gift still runs through our veins. And we still spill blood, theirs and ours, in payment." Beside her Kieran takes a deep breath as if bracing himself. 

"Eighteen years ago, we had been hearing whispers of some new king crowned in the shadows. We didn't realize how cunning he was until his first attack." Something apologetic touches his lips, twisting them to a scowl as his golden gaze remains fixed on the silent graves. "There was an unspoken understanding, that Tasoula's emissaries were her chosen. They may worship different aspects of Tasoula, though they were the same goddess. Emissaries theirs and ours were considered to be under her protection." A heavy stone sits in the pit of Auden's stomach, twisting and rolling. 

"His first attack was here. In the dead of night that new king led some of his more vicious forces here." He hesitates, and Auden does her best to pretend she doesn't notice the soft compassion in his voice, thinking to acknowledge it would push her to the point of broken tears. "When we realized what was happening my father led the pack here as swiftly as he could. But..." His lips press together, hiding some tremble. "It was too late. They'd fought, but they'd lost." The words sink in, and though she'd known the ending it hurt all the same. 

"The last thing she did was protect you. Your crib was the only thing undamaged, you as well. It was decided that you should be raised by your family. We knew you had human family, your father's, within the walls and they were close. You... You know the rest." Gingerly, Auden rests her trembling fingers on her mother's headstone. The gray stone was rough beneath her fingers, still cool despite the afternoon sun. For a long while she says nothing, unable to around the thick lump of her throat. 

Everything she'd heard of her parent's love had been tragic and doomed when told by Laurel. And it was still so as she stood in front of their resting place, but it was heroic and passionate and free. Whatever else their life had been with the wolves, it had been theirs and it was clear they'd fought to protect it. To protect her. And it's that realization that breaks the dam Auden had been so tightly clinging to since she'd left Orroux with Kieran that morning and the first of tears silent at first begin to drip down her cheeks, quickly devolving into sobs that wrack her shoulders, pressing and hiding her face into the crook of her arm.