Private Tangled roots and stolen dreams

[Mathilde Leyweald]

Mathilde

The Dukedom of Artois had ever been a quiet and tranquil place to inhabit; the land seemed all but locked out of time, as if refusing the slow, yet inexorable advance of urbanization. Small hamlets and humble villages were the only signs of civilization for many, many miles around, and, more often than not, one could spend an entire day riding on horseback without seeing another person. A simple life, all in all, cherished by the content... and spurned by the ambitious. Those youths adventurous enough to leave their hometown often found their way into the Duke's troops, the peasant rabble drilled into well-disciplined troops by those old enough to have seen action during the civil war- in those halcyon days when they were still regarded as heroic rebels by the populace, hailed for their bravery in standing against the tyrant who left them in squalor and misery.

Now, the world all but seemed to have passed them by. Those grizzled warriors could only watch from the battlements, the helplessness that came with each passing season leaving them morose and reclusive. Death would have seen them elevated as martyrs, but now, they felt only a soul-deep weariness. A desire to finally earn their rest.

And they would get their wish, if not in the manner they thought they would.

Few were those who came to the festival in Axilla. Those who did spoke of a shadow that fell over the land, looming over the lives of all those who cared to look beyond the borders of their hometowns; the entire population of the coastal village of Aberfell, they said, was gone. Not that the town had been sacked, mind you - the valuables and livestock remained, which left out the notion of a raid... but signs of struggle were discovered by inquisitive youths, ranging from broken arrows to hastily-ejected blaster battery packs. Those village elders wise enough to recognize the threat left to inform the Duke within the very same day, knowing him to be a gracious lord when it came to the safety of his subjects.

None of them returned.

It would take two weeks of silence before a lone rider finally emerged from the now-quiet dukedom; a knight of Artois, bearing the green-and-white heraldry of his liege-lord! The fine plate armor he wore, however, was so thoroughly entangled in roots that he seemed unable to get down from his horse. Although admitted into a proper medical facility, he soon fell into a deep, death-like slumber, his feverish ramblings nigh-impossible to decipher for the nurses. Only one thing had been made clear by his desperate words; House Leyweald needed the aid of the Princess, and direly so.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mathilde had not attended the Courtship Festival.

On its own, that wasn't particularly strange - the young woman preferred the spacious woodlands of Artois, and a crowded celebration in the capital wouldn't be as appealing.

What was strange was the lack of contact. Not even a quick holomessage or mail expressing her regret at being unable to attend. Cora had heard whispers of strange happenings from Artois during the festival, but she'd been too wrapped up in playing makeshift hostess to their foreign guests. On Ukatis, rumors and truth often lived side by side.

Then came the bannerman. A lone knight entangled in thickets. He was transported to Axilla's most modern medical facility - an Alliance funded hospital - but wavered on the line between life and death. Often catatonic, he would occasionally be overtaken by fits, uttering frantic murmurs and whispers.

It sounded like a warning, one nurse recalled. But to what?

---

Cora had taken a small detachment of soldiers from Ascania territory with her on her way to Artois. Her rank as Princess was still largely social given her position with the crown, so she was hesitant to request the royal guard.

The Enclave's attack had only just allowed her to work her way back into Ukatian society on the basis of charity work. If the crown chose to punish her now, it would reflect poorly on them - in the midst of a succession crisis, no less.

To say that she was leveraging her position would not be a lie.

"You stay here," she announced as they came upon the edge of the forested area that marked the beginning of Artois territory. "I will go on ahead and signal you to join me once I believe it to be safe."

A hesitant silence lingered over the guards before the captain spoke.

"Princess, are you certain? Jedi though you may be, it is dangerous to go alone."

It was dangerous to go alone. The forest had not changed visually, but there was still something markedly different about it. Something chilling, something sinister. It made Cora all the more certain that she could not risk their lives so easily.

A chill ran through her, and she closed her eyes, allowing it to work through and eventually pass.

"Yes." Her eyes fluttered open. "Wait for me here."

Nudging her mount into a trot, she entered the foreboding woodlands.

Mathilde Leyweald

 

[Mathilde Leyweald]

Mathilde

In their youth, the two friends spent their afternoons rambling the woods, talking excitedly of their dreams and aspirations, granted a rare chance to forget the dreariness of the world they lived in. Their make-belief was a way for them to indulge in some much-needed escapism; but, as the years passed, their long walks in the woods grew less and less frequent. Dear friends, they remained, but life drew them apart, and the road they once followed side-by-side had reached a fork. One took the left path, and the other the right.

There was something unmistakably ominous about the once-welcoming woods, something dark and foreboding... and yet, some of its allure yet remained, as if the very land itself distantly remembered the Princess of Ukatis, and the simpler times before duty burdened her soul. Artois had never been Corazona's home, but its people had welcomed her, all the same, granting her a refuge of sorts whenever she could accept her old friend's invitation.

The ride through the woods proved rather uneventful at first, if not for the unmistakeable sense of being watched. Half an hour into the Jedi Knight's search, however, the first of many horrors revealed itself to her.

Four men hung lifelessly from a treebranch. A sad sight that would have been tragically ordinary for a feudal society, if not for the fact that Bohemond, in his quality as lord, believed in the duty of a noble to carry out the sentence they chose for their subjects. Why, then, would such a fair-handed man have condemned four men seemingly in their prime to such a fate? The closer the knight came to the grisly scene, the more puzzling it became. There were no posts beneath them, nothing that had been kicked away from their feet to leave them to swing, nor was there any length of rope used in the process.

The things wrapped around their necks were thick roots.

A man-at-arms of House Leyweald sat slumped against a nearby tree, roots, branches and leaves wrapped all around him in the same manner the lone rider had been when the medical staff finally managed to get him down from his horse. Oddly enough, he seemed to be in the same state of slumber the knight now found himself in, muttering to himself in his sleep.

"O, to sleep on a fine bed of moss..."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The forests of Artois had changed.

As she drew further and further into the woods, Cora realized that something was different. Something she couldn't quite describe. They looked as though they usually had, serene and unyielding at the same time. Nature had always been raw in that way; what was natural and beautiful could also snatch your life away in a second.

And now, she felt as though she was venturing into the heart of something dangerous. Unseen eyes rested on her back, an uneasy sensation that had kept her moving, not even stopping to pop the lid from her canteen for a drink.

It wasn't until she came upon a sight so unexpected and grisly that it made her stomach lurch, did she stop the mount in its tracks.

Cora had to crane her neck to get a proper look at the four bodies strung lifelessly from a canopy of trees. Even though such things happened on Ukatis, she'd never seen it herself before. What was more, it didn't seem like Duke Leyweald's style to administer justice in such a crude manner. Hanging was as much of a punishment as it was a warning.

A warning…

Drawing a hunting knife from its sheath at her leg, Cora hesitated on whether or not to cut them down. She squinted - that wasn't rope, it was…roots that had vined around their necks? Her head snapped down in an instant, searching for the posts they'd surely been standing upon before their demise. Nothing.

Her stomach dropped suddenly. This was a warning. But from who?

Could it have been work of the Darkside? It hadn't been very long ago where she'd lead the Jedi in cleansing a small, Dark nexus that had sucked the life from a forest similar to this one. But there, the animals had gone mad - here, the forest was in perfect health and eerily silent.

"O, to sleep on a fine bed of moss..."

A surge of surprised panic shot though Cora. It took her a few long moments to focus on the fallen bannerman, reclined at the base of a tree and covered in roots and leaves. He'd blended in so well that she hadn't noticed him until he'd started mumbling.

That was enough to spur Cora into action. She dismounted her horse and rushed over to the man, cautiously placing a hand against the thickest root that had woven around his chest.

"It's alright," she murmured quickly. "I'll…I'm going to get you out of here."

Cora worked the knife between the thinnest section of the root, sharp side up, and tried to saw the binding away.

Mathilde Leyweald

 

[Mathilde Leyweald]

Mathilde

Corazona acted quickly and decisively - as befit a true royal, some might say. It was when the Princess brought her hunting knife against the root that she would be made to realize just how difficult the ask of freeing one's self could be when ensnared. Still, her perseverance paid off, and before long, the footman was freed from his binding, the knife's small size and sharp edge making it a much better tool to do this than the sword sheathed at the man's side. And yet, even after he was freed from this bindings, the sleeping soldier merely used his newfound freedom to roll over in his sleep, as one would when searching for a more comfortable position. No acknowledgement of the Princess' words, nor presence, escaped the slumbering man-at-arms. Bliss remained etched on his features; perhaps he had no desire to awaken from this state he found himself in. Unlike the fitful, catatonic state the lone knight had been in under the care of Axilla's medical staff, the common footman seemed well and truly at peace.

THUMP!

While the Jedi busied herself with the sleeping bannerman, the roots wrapped 'round the necks of the four unfortunate men shifted, releasing their corpses onto the dirt below. Judging by the expression of frozen fear on their faces, their end had not been swift, nor painless. Whoever had done this had meant to leave them as a warning to others, yes... and they were keeping a watchful eye on the young lady intruding within the woods. Whoever (or whatever) this secret observer was, they were long gone by the time the Princess turned around, if she cared to do so.

"Seek the grove", mumbled the man-at-arms, his returning lucidity somewhat questionable, yet offering some manner of guidance from his contented state of half-dreams nonetheless. "Let her weave your dreams... and find a nice bed of moss to sleep on."

And with that, he seemed to have found a nice spot for him to lay his head down, falling back into a deep slumber.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora grit her teeth together tightly as she saws through the roots. Even if the knife was a decent tool for the job, it took several passes for her to be able to free the bindings.

The sleeping bannerman didn't seem bothered by all the activity, nor did his countenance change once he'd been released. Cora, on the other hand, gasped with exertion and tried to steady his body against the tree with her free hand.

THUMP!

The sudden sound caused her to jump, releasing her hold from the sleeping man. He merely murmured and rolled over, seemingly content in his stupor.

Even before she'd whipped around, Cora knew the heavy sound of bodies hitting the ground. It made her stomach drop. The knife was instinctively held out in front of her, pointed at the four corpses now splayed unceremoniously along the forest floor.

None of this was a coincidence. You're being watched. Steady your mind before you lose it.

Cora inhaled slowly though her nose. There was no one to be seen. An unseen enemy had a stark advantage against her.

"Seek the grove", mumbled the man-at-arms, his returning lucidity somewhat questionable, yet offering some manner of guidance from his contented state of half-dreams nonetheless. "Let her weave your dreams... and find a nice bed of moss to sleep on."

"The grove?"

Returning to the man's side, she tried in vain to wake him with a rough shake to his shoulder. "What is this grove? And who is 'she'?" The man only murmured, lost in his slumber. "You must awaken! It's not safe to stay here, nor to be in the state you're in."

Nothing. She couldn't carry him either.

Cora drew a map from her pocket, an archaic paper scroll with hand-drawn borders and markings. She traced along the southern boundary of the forest through which she'd entered, roughly figuring out where she should be.

A grove...I'm not seeing anything on the map about- oh? Oh.

The Jedi was struck by a memory. Her and Mathilde Leyweald , just girls, clambering through a thicket of flowers and moss, playing knights. She looked up from the map, around at the trees and then the topography of the land.

She knelt down to the bannerman and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Stay here and stay safe. I'll be back soon for you."

Closing her eyes, Cora concentrated on the Force, suffusing a signature of the Light side within the soldier's body. Hopefully, it might serve as a measure of protection.