Empire of Solaris

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Therion didn't smile, out of habit, but his eyes lit up in excitement, and he gave her a nod. "Thank you. Here, I will show you."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a rather battered sheet of paper, which he unfolded to cover the table. On it was a rather messy charcoal sketch of the main temple. It seemed rather cobbled-together, with a few scribbled-out notes and redrawn areas, but it was more or less complete.

"We've studied the building for structural weaknesses, and think that the foundations here might be a good place to start. Can you remember anything that might help?"
 
As Therion pulled out his parchment, the kettle and their cups lifted themselves from the table. The magic made Xalia feel better- like stretching a muscle that had been sitting in one position for far too long.

She peered at the paper, one of the flames hovering closer to it, trailing the path her eyes made across the paper. She looked to where he indicated, and blinked. "I didn't work on this temple." The witch sat up and met his eyes again, though the small flame still hovered just above the paper.

"I built a tower, far from here, designed to keep some demon mage prisoner. Even that place... I left when there was still much work to be done. My slave knowledge won't help you here. My magic will."
 
Therion studied her expression, looking for signs of recognition, realization--but got nothing. Her words confirmed it, but also prompted a new train of thought.

"A demon mage? That may be worth looking into later on. Your magic, then. What are your greatest strengths? I see that you are adept with moving objects," he said, with a glance at the floating dishware.
 
Though Xalia could see the expectancy in Therion's gaze, she wasn't abashed when she couldn't meet it. Her greatest strengths, though? Oh, how long had it been since she'd done anything but live here?

"I suppose stealth was my last most practiced skill, before I settled here. I was something of a rebellionist, though, after escaping. My offensive magics leave little to be desired. Demonstration of skill is more effective: I don't suppose you've somewhere safe to watch me and my tricks?" She laughed, dryly. "I'd rather not wreck my shack here before leaving it."
 
Therion nodded. He hadn't been expecting a deadly wizard, but he had hopes, that couldn't be denied. Still, it was certainly better than nothing.

"Yes, there is a valley not far from here that we can use. I can take you there now, if you're ready."
 
Without speaking, Xalia stood up. The hay bed behind her dropped to the ground, and the map in front of them also lifted into the air. The kettle, the pot, and Therion's unfinished tea floated out the door, and dumped themselves out, before shrinking and floating into the now open trunk. Even the seat Xalia had been sitting on shrank and floated in, as did most of the rest of the witch's belongings. When everything but the dolls had packed itself away neatly, the trunk shut and locked itself, then shrank, and also floated, right over to the witch's hand. She took the tiny trunk, and slipped it into the pocket of her dress.

From the corner, both dolls aroused themselves, and came to stand by her. On one side was Junedith. On the other stood a full grown-looking woman, with a head of bright, firey red curls, and empty blue eyes. Freckles were splashed across her fair skin. She wore a plain, light blue dress, and like Junedith, she wore no shoes, but was entirely devoid of filth. "Ready."
 
Therion watched, mind already racing as he registered the possibilities provided by Xalia's demonstration. Smuggling weapons--or even people--would be simple. So would transporting supplies, or delivering secret messages. This was already looking more and more like a good decision.

Then there were the two silent, staring women. Therion glanced from one to the other as they joined Xalia.

"You haven't introduced me to your companions," he said.
 
Her companions? An immediate fondness settled over Xalia. Her Dolls were as if her own kin, and to hear them be referred to as if they were human, real, alive, and breathing- and to ask to be introduced to them, even? If Xalia had been waiting for some show of character, some test, then Therion had just passed it.

"Junedith, who you met earlier, and Meredith." She paused, and looked at the two in turn, then back to Therion. "Meredith was a toy of mine, when I was a girl. I managed to keep her, even during my slavery, and animated her after my escape. Junedith... was a girl, once. I found her body after she had been sacrificed. I could offer her no better treatment than I did Meredith."
 
Therion felt a chill run up his spine at the way Xalia just casually revealed that the two were animated corpses. Outwardly, his eyes flicked from one to the other and back rapidly, and his mouth narrowed into a firm line. This was the kind of thing he usually heard about runaway mages--stealing and desecrating corpses with their magic. She didn't seem malicious in it--but how was it a kindness?

"A toy?" He repeated.
 
Xalia nodded, and her eyes flicked towards Meredith again. "I don't recall if she was from my village before the enslavement, or made by someone there, then, for me, but yes, Meredith was a toy of mine. I animated her, made her look more human, and made her larger once I escaped." Again, her voice held no pride or shame: these were simply facts.

"But. Are we not off?"
 
"We are," Therion said, deciding the subject could be broached again some other time, perhaps. At least it didn't seem like Xalia was interested in adding to her collection any time soon. He moved back outside to where he'd left his horse. The animal was rubbing against a treetrunk again, trying to scratch some itch underneath the saddle. He adjusted it as he came over.

"Can you ride?"
 
With her Dolls, Xalia followed. Once the four of them had exited the shack, the wood creaked, and fell into itself, slowly. Evidently, it had been held up with help from magic, for at least some time. Ignoring it, the witch looked at the horse. She had never ridden alone, and even in the few times she had, it was with someone else. But how hard could it be?

"Yes, I believe so."
 
Therion glanced back as the house collapsed. Timely. He raised his eyebrows at Xalia's comment, and held the horse to help her mount.
 
Silently, Therion held the horse, and Meredith bent down. The Doll locked her hands together to give Xalia a footrest as the witch hoisted herself up, onto the horse. It was awkward, and far from graceful, but after a few moments with relatively little flailing, she was pointed, and Meredith and Junedith stood back from the horse.
 
Therion mounted up behind Xalia, reaching around her to take the reins. He didn't really need them, he held on with his knees, but he had a feeling Xalia might need the extra bit of support. With a click of his tongue and a jab of the heels, he started the horse walking at a reasonable pace. They weren't galloping anywhere with an inexperienced rider, or a couple of animated corpses following after them.
 
And they were off. As Therion had climbed on behind her and taken the reins, Xalia found herself clutching at the brim of the saddle between her legs. It was fortunate for her that he decided to go slowly. Though she was stable enough at the moment, she wasn't sure that she would have been able to hold on at a run- though this wasn't the most comfortable position to ride in. "How far, exactly, is this valley?" she said over her shoulder, eyeing Meredith and Junedith, who ran beside the horse with no evident hardship.
 
"About twenty minutes at this pace," Therion said. After a moment of silent riding, he added, "We can slow down if it would help you get used to riding."
 
"No," Xalia replied, quickly. She tightened her grip of the saddle. "No, that won't be necessary." The quicker they went, the better, but stating as much might indicate that she needed the time to get used to it- a possibility that she would rather avoid.
 
"Very well." Therion didn't say much after that. He wasn't one for small talk or conversation for its own sake. Instead he watched the landscape pass, keeping an eye out for any trouble. As they reached the lip of the valley, he got a glimpse of the Sun Temple--a distant spire, rising up from the brown muddle of the city.
 
With Therion's silence, Xalia also fell silent. She kept her gaze straight ahead, looking as the trees blurred by. How long had it been since she'd been so far from that shack? She couldn't even guess, not any more. How time did pass... Both in years, and in minutes. Lost in thought, the witch hardly noticed the journey come to an end.
 
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