Chapter Text
Keyleth stood tall as she watched the young women approach, a wave of nostalgia pressing on her chest. Her Council beside her leveled knowing glances between each other, and Keyleth took a deep breath as the young women came close.
The shorter of the two stopped before Keyleth with a nervous grin, her dark brown eyes sparkling with excitement. Her brown skin was smooth, and her black long braids were tied in a knot on top of her proud head, revealing her gently pointed ears. Her clothing was simple, a russet colored dress over sandals with a bag of holding at her side.
She carried a staff of walnut wood, with a glowing amber-colored crystal clutched in a tangle of roots. Black tattoos swirled around her shoulders, and a slim diamond bracelet sparkled on her left wrist. A belt cinched her waist, accentuating her soft, hourglass figure. She wore light leather armour, embossed with symbols of the Ashari.
Her companion stopped at her left, and gave Keyleth a respectful nod, glancing back to her friend with a watchful eye.
Her skin was pale grey, as were her eyes - she noted her irises, unlike Zahra’s singular glow. Her hair was a bright white, and pulled into a long braided tail with raven feathers woven in, her long pointed ears prominent. Straight, narrow black horns like a mountain goat arched gracefully from her forehead.
At her side was a bright silver rapier, and at her thin throat rested a raven’s skull on a silver chain. Her clothing was simple - a black sleeveless top displaying her thin, sinewy arms over dark pants and thick soled boots. She wore plain leather armour, black bracers and a grey shawl tied over one shoulder.
Keyleth walked forward and embraced the short woman, squeezing her strong shoulders. She returned her embrace with a squeal of joy, leaning back in Keyleth’s strong grip. Keyleth stood back and held her shoulders, taking in her face. A broad smile graced her full lips, her brown eyes scrunching as two dimples pulled in her round cheeks.
Keyleth could not fight the rush of fondness as she pressed a palm to the young woman’s cheek, her grin infectious.
“It is so good to see you Cala,” Keyleth said softly.
Cala inclined her head in respect, lifting it to grin at Keyleth.
“It is so good to see you, Tempest - Keyleth,” She corrected with an apologetic smile and a roll of her eyes.
Keyleth squeezed her shoulders and gave her cheek a playful slap, releasing her to grasp the Spire once more. She looked to Cala’s companion, who had watched their greeting with a soft, unreadable expression.
“And to meet you at last - I have heard so much. Aniah, yes?” Keyleth asked.
Aniah nodded, a small smile gracing her narrow face as she briefly met Keyleth’s eyes. There was something familiar about the girl, more than she knew from Cala’s long-winded letters and messages over the years.
“Aniah Riador, at your service.” Aniah said, voice measured and formal.
Keyleth chuckled as she shook her head.The girl’s voice was lightly accented and clear - something in the back of Keyleth’s mind itched at her accent, her face, trying to place it. She set it aside for now.
“You have been at service for some time now. Thank you for being there for Cala. It has been a comfort to know she has friends, so far from Zephrah.”
At that the young woman’s posture relaxed, her straight shoulders easing slightly as she gave Keyleth a soft smile.
“It has been my privilege.” Aniah responded quietly, eyes burning with silent intensity.
Cala rolled her eyes, reaching out and giving Aniah a one armed hug. Aniah sighed and stiffened at her embrace, letting Cala shake her playfully.
“She’ll loosen up, don’t worry. Come on, you have to meet my folks!”
Keyleth felt a rush of memories as she watched Cala sway her friend, Aniah giving her a reluctant smile as she leaned into her embrace, steely gaze gentling. Keyleth gave the girls a wave, watching as Cala bodily dragged Aniah to where her family waited anxiously.
Keyleth watched with a smile as Cala was swept into a sea of family, her mother cupping her face and squeezing her cheeks as her siblings and cousins tugged at her clothes, presenting little stones and other gifts. She noticed Aniah watching with stiff shoulders once more, and Keyleth could see the tension in her now guarded expression. It reminded her of herself and the De Rolo’s - an only child bewildered in an expanse of family.
She turned her head as her right hand walked up beside her, leaning on her own staff.
Isilda - the second oldest in the village, at 1,003 to Keyleth’s 1,794. A fellow half elf, ruddy skin drawn tightly over her wiry form, with clever blue eyes that looked out from dark brown locks that flowed loosely down her back. A circlet of bronze wire and enchanted flowers anointed her as the Hand of the Tempest, and she gripped a staff of dark wood topped with a vibrant blue crystal.
Her wise eyes were pensive, flitting from Cala to Keyleth. She spoke at last, voice low beside her.
“You need to talk to her while she’s here. We cannot ignore the signs anymore - she does not want us to.”
Keyleth sighed as she watched Cala druid craft a flower crown for Aniah, chuckling at the contrast of the bright pink flowers against the white of her hair. Aniah gave Cala a withering expression that told Keyleth this was a regular occurrence as Cala threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing in the village.
“She is only 19. She will graduate in a year - let her learn a little more. Let her be free for a little longer." Keyleth whispered.
Her heart ached dully as she watched Aniah try to keep up the bouquets of flowers that the children were trying to give her, Cala now sat on the pine canopy with her baby siblings.
Isilda scowled, shaking her head.
“She is not learning what she needs to - she needs to begin. She needs to -”
Keyleth turned to her right hand, giving her a measured look.
“She has two semesters left. Then, she begins her Aramente. We decided this, as a Council. She has grown so much. We decided as a Council that she must know the world as well as Zephrah. She must know how to walk between worlds, as I did. And from the looks of it, she has done well,” Keyleth said softly.
Islida was silent beside her, watching as Cala introduced Aniah to her parents, Cala’s father clapping the stunned young woman on the back in a powerful hug.
Isilda sighed at last, leaning into her staff. Keyleth could feel the worry roiling off of her, and gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.
“Be at peace, Isilda. We have guided her well, and her love for Zephrah has only grown in her time in Emon. It will make her stronger - it has made her stronger. I know you all didn’t want to send her away, but I think it has been the best thing for her.”
Isilda quieted beside Keyleth, watching as the rest of the village slowly came forward as news of Cala’s arrival spread. Keyleth smiled as Aniah leaned down to allow a child to touch her horns as another looked at her sword with wide eyes. Cala tossed one of her cousins in the air. Keyleth recognized a gust cantrip as she sent the child higher and higher into the air, squealing and giggling.
“Not long now,” Isilda said quietly.
Keyleth closed her eyes, remembering.
Fifteen years ago, a meeting had been called. A child in the village had shown abilities - abilities that far passed what they should be capable of. Keyleth called the Council, and the child was brought forth, her parents holding her hands with nervous expressions. Keyleth had stepped forward, giving the child a comforting smile as she crouched before her. The girl had watched her with huge eyes.
“Hello, my name is Keyleth, Voice of the Tempest.” She had said, crouching before the girl.
The girl smiled shyly, leaning into her mother’s leg.
“I know,” She responded, sending the council into laughter.
Keyleth had chuckled, gripping her staff for balance as her knees complained.
“You’re very smart. What’s your name?”
The child stepped away from her mother, a sudden confidence straightening her tiny shoulders.
“Cala.”
Keyleth cocked her head, still smiling at the girl.
“That is a wonderful name, Cala. I have heard that you have a very special thing you can do. You see, I can do many things - one thing I can do is turn into animals. Can you do that?” Keyleth asked gently.
The Council grew quiet behind her. The girl nodded, her dark eyes massive in her round face. A rush of whispers had erupted around her, and Keyleth held a hand out behind her in a command of silence.
“That’s wonderful. Can you show me?”
Cala had looked up at her parents, and they gave her encouraging smiles. Cala gave her mother’s leg a few pats, and Keyleth watched as she stepped away, giving Cala room. The Council grew silent behind her, and Keyleth watched with bated breath.
Cala closed her eyes, and suddenly where the child had stood was a massive wolf.
Keyleth heard gasps behind her, and she stood quickly, her heart pounding. Keyleth looked to Cala’s mother - Zerah. Her husband, Kirthan moved to grip her shoulder. The wolf-child sat demurely, Cala’s dark eyes watching Keyleth carefully.
“She is...four years old, correct?” Keyleth asked Zerah.
Zerah nodded, her face torn between pride and anxiety. Kirthan gripped his wife’s shoulders tightly.
“She is. She first showed this to us a few weeks ago, but since then she has done it...many times. She has also cast a few little spells - things that her mother and I have not shown her.” Kirthan said, his low voice resonant in the Council hall.
Keyleth had nodded in understanding, kneeling down once more.
“That is very impressive, Cala. Very impressive.”
From that day, the girl had come under Keyleth’s wing, training with her one, two, eventually five days a week. She was an incredibly fast learner, picking up new forms and spells with uncanny ability. The girl was intelligent and quick on her feet, and loved her family and home fiercely.
As the years passed, Keyleth had felt the eyes of the Council on her, watching - waiting.
There had been others before, that had shown promise. But Keyleth had always turned them away - she had no desire to retire. She could feel the press of the years, but her duties kept them at bay.
It was hard to lose herself in memories or misery when there were Whitestone minutes to read, monarchs to meet with, threats to quell. But as the years pressed in and Keyleth began to feel the ache in her bones and soul, it became clear that her time was coming, if not near.
And as she grew, it became obvious that Cala was born to take the Mantle.
Keyleth had even woken to a messenger one morning - a Cleric of Melora, an exhausted human who had been called to speak to the Tempest. She heard his message with a straight face, the Council sat beside her with knowing eyes as the Cleric professed that Melora had sent him to herald the coming Tempest.
She had stormed into her hut that night, slamming the door and pulling a vintage out of the dusty cupboard. She was about halfway through, one hand gripping the bottle and the other pressing on her forehead. Her head had snapped up as she heard the familiar rustle of feathers, and sagged in relief as the Raven swept through the ever-open window, settling in front of her on the table and fixing her with a beady stare.
She had lifted a hand to his back, petting his glossy feather’s clumsily.
“Hello, love,” She murmured.
The Raven had cawed softly, rustling his feathers in a show of excitement as he nibbled at her fingers that gripped the bottle.
“I know. I’m fine, I’m - I’m excited. I just...I don’t know. It's...a lot.” She had whispered, the years swimming before her in a tipsy haze.
The Raven had perched on her shoulder, his soft coos comforting as she finished the bottle, her eyes far away.
Keyleth was thrust back into the sunny summer day as Isilda poked her in the side, a knowing smile on her face.
“You’re getting old, Keyleth,”
Keyleth smacked the other woman in the shoulder, smirking as she rubbed at the spot with a knowing smirk.
“I’ve been old, Isilda. I was old when your mother was born,” She said, glancing back at her friend.
Isilda gave her an understanding glance, sighing as she watched Cala greet her grandparents. Aniah looked properly overwhelmed by now, a toddler clinging to her leg as another reached for her flower-adorned horns from their perch on Cala’s hip. She watched curiously as Cala watched Aniah, looking over her grandmother’s shoulder with soft concern.
“She will bear the Mantle Isi, I know it. Just give her a little more time. I am not dying tomorrow.”
“No, but we do not know when -”
Keyleth raised her hand, quieting Isilda.
“We will know when my thread draws close,” She said, smiling as a caw rent through the air.
Keyleth felt a wide smile pull at her face as the Raven alighted on her staff, cawing once more towards Cala.
Keyleth watched curiously as Aniah looked at the Raven with a stunned expression, her pale hand tapping Cala’s shoulder rapidly. Cala turned, setting down a toddler and patting them on the back as they were handed off. Keyleth watched as Cala grinned and started forward, pulling Aniah behind her once more as she walked back to Keyleth.
The Raven honked excitedly and ruffled its feathers as Cala came close, holding her arm aloft. He flew to her arm, tossing a loose braid that had fallen from her knot. Keyleth watched as Aniah looked at the Raven with a stunned expression, her mouth open slightly. Cala looked back to Aniah with a grin, stroking the Raven’s feathers with comfortable familiarity.
“Aniah, this is the Raven - I’ve -”
Aniah interrupted, closing her mouth and blinking quickly as she nodded.
“Told me about him, yes. I…” Aniah trailed off, stilling as the Raven turned its gaze to her, raising its head.
Keyleth watched as silence fell, Aniah and the Raven regarding each other. The rushing winds of Zephrah ceased for a moment in the ancient trees, a beat of silence stretching between them.
“Aniah - you serve the Matron, yes?” Keyleth asked quietly.
Aniah shook herself a bit, and Keyleth didn’t miss Cala’s wry, knowing smile as she watched Aniah’s face.
“Well, you have something in common then,” Keyleth said softly, watching as Aniah’s expression grew awed.
Cala glanced at Keyleth with a knowing smirk and lowered her arm quickly, sending the Raven into the air once more. Aniah raised her own trembling arm, and the Raven alighted on her leather bracer, fixing her with his arresting gaze.
Keyleth noticed a dark wooden wand secured with straps onto the inside of the gauntlet of her right arm. She remembered from a letter that Aniah was a Wizard as well as a Cleric - though the combination didn’t seem to make sense to Keyleth. The Wizards she had known were not overly fond of the gods, nor Clerics of the arcane.
The Raven held Aniah’s gaze for another long moment. Keyleth watched with amusement as he leaned back and plucked a long, perfect feather from his wing. He held it in his beak before hopping down Aniah’s arm and tucking it deftly behind her ear, leaping into the sky once more before disappearing into the bright blue day, the wind roaring dully around them once more.
Aniah stood still, reaching up a shaking hand to touch the feather. She turned to Cala, who casually shrugged her shoulders, a knowing twinkle in her eyes.
“He likes you,” She said simply.
Keyleth smiled at the girl, glancing back to Cala’s family.
“Come on girls - there’s a feast to celebrate your stay here. Won’t do to keep it waiting,” Keyleth said, turning away and leading the young women to the center of the village where a roaring fire was beginning to blaze cheerfully.
After a moment she heard them follow, and she smiled as she heard Cala whisper to Aniah.
“See, I told you the Champion would like you,”