Lingering Shadows-Chapter 30

Notes;

• Yes i had writers block. Sorry about that. If there’s anything weird in this chapter its because I made myself write it to break the block. I think I’ll get that writing schedule back now. We’ve been really busy.

• So my theory is that the Wanderers of the Woes would well….wander in tribes or groups. The more powerful their leader and their warriors are, the more people there are in the tribe.

• For those of you who are curious about Aro’s past…this probably will just make you wonder more, even if it does answer any of the questions you have. 😂

• Please let me know if anything is against canon.

Chapter 30- Nights Past

A couple months earlier;

The sound of waves splashing up against the sand and rocks on the shore mingled with the low, guttural sounds of murmured talking coming from around a small fire on the beach, punctuated by occasional eruptions of harsh laughter. The beach was hidden in one of the rare sheltered coves off the coast of Yorsha Doon, known only to the group of about thirty black clad figures planning and sharpening their blades and testing their bows throughout the cove, along with a few other tribes of wanderers. 

A tall, strong man with an ornate, curved sword stood with a hand over the hilt, nodding approvingly as two men scratched out a map in the sand and traced a map through the city. He smiled and clapped one on the shoulder approvingly. He made his way to the fire, pausing when he caught a glimpse of a skinny young man weaving through the laughing crowd. 

Aro had just gotten up from the fire, tipping back his mug and looking over his shoulder in the direction of the barrel of bibes. As he made his way through the throng of people, he walked with his back straight, his face flushed with pride and from the heat of the fire. 

He had been told the day before that he would be going with Ryith on the mission, and tonight was the night they would be leaving. He had shown up at the secret cove and sat around the fire side by side with warriors, much to the surprise of everyone. Some gruffly congratulated him, slapping him on the back and laughing, and others…well there were only a few of the others, and Aro was small enough and stealthy enough to stay out of their way. Mostly.

He accepted more congratulations now, exchanging laughter and clanking his empty mug with others, holding his chin high, letting the fire and the torches highlight the red streaks across his cheeks and around his eyes. For the second time in his life that evening he had smeared the bloodrock dye on his face in the pattern of a warrior. For the first time in his life he and his bow were gladly welcomed. He found himself grinning and immediately changed his expression back to its one of seriousness. Only his black eyes still sparkled, made luminous and light by the fire. There was another small gathering near the barrel of bibes, but only one or two men were actually around it. 

Aro made his way through the crush of bodies, getting slapped on the back and punched boisterously by almost everyone he passed. There were a few shouts and congratulations in the language of the Wanderers, which he answered gladly, shouting in the same language until his eyes met those of Ryith’s right hand man. Aro’s eyes flicked away and he instinctively ducked and slipped through the remainder of people between him and the barrel of cold bibes, sensing that if he stayed around much longer at least one pair of the hands making contact with him would not be friendly. Besides, he thought as he glanced around nervously, there were definitely a few others who would take advantage of finding him in a large crowd, at night, where everyone was already slapping him and punching him good-naturedly. 

He sighed when he got into the open space on the sand between the crowd and the barrel of bibes. He walked across the short stretch of emptiness, the sand crunching beneath his feet. He couldn’t remember a time ever being quite so happy. His thoughts whirling in every direction, he didn’t notice the man beside the barrel until he was close enough to touch him. Then he saw the reflection of the fire burning in his eyes, and the firelight shining off the bold, authoritative stripes of bloodrock across his face.

He froze for a second, his heart pounding both at his surprise at seeing someone appear out of seemingly nowhere, and because he had never been able to block the little current of fear that never failed to slowly flood him every time Ryith’s attention was turned on him. He at least managed to ignore it sometimes, but it was always there. Since something that had happened a few months ago at a bloodrock mine they had raided, Ryith had been watching him closely, especially in training. It was unnerving, despite the approving nods he occasionally got when he spotted the man casually watching him. 

Aro stepped forward, forcing himself to ignore the fear, nodding to Ryith and holding his cup under the little spout on the side of the barrel. There was a thick silence as Aro waited for his cup to fill, wishing that he could have turned around before Ryith saw him.

Why isn’t he saying anything? He wondered, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise under Ryith’s appraising stare. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his cup was full and he stood up, meeting Ryith’s eyes and bowing wordlessly. He turned around and took a step back to the fire when Ryith’s voice stopped him.

 “Don’t waste this opportunity,” he heard from behind him. He turned around slowly, knowing that he couldn’t leave until Ryith had said what he wanted to say. 

“It’s not one many people would ever get, especially considering your history, and considering you’re the youngest warrior among all these,” he said, gesturing toward the crowd.

 “Then why am I here?” Aro asked in a hard, quiet voice, resenting Ryith’s words.

 “Because you have potential,” Ryith responded, holding Aro’s gaze. “Because from what I’ve seen I’m sure you are going to do everything you can to make this mission a success. If you perform like you did at the mine, things should go well with you. And if you mess it up again…well I’m sure you remember what happened last time, don’t you? I’m taking you on this mission because I know you have the skill to do it, and if you have the competence to go through with everything, you might be permanently joining the warrior’s circle sooner than you think. Don’t disappoint me, Aro.” Ryith finished with a smile. 

He took his own mug from where it sat on top of the barrel and headed toward the fire. He laid a hand on Aro’s shoulder with a sinister smile before he melted into the crowd, leaving Aro alone. 

Aro stood staring at the crowd for a minute, rubbing his shoulder, trying to forget the feel of Ryith’s heavy hand as he worked through his words, the mixture of threats and expectations and…praise? He turned toward the barrel as if he was still filling his cup so no one in the crowd would see him. 

He thought through Ryith’s words again, ignoring the threats because he already knew exactly what they meant, knew without a doubt that Ryith would go through with them, and he didn’t want to think about them at all.

Ryith knew he had the skill to complete the mission. He had said that Aro had potential. He had definitely said both of those things, Aro realized, a small smile spreading over his face. For once it wasn’t his imagination. 

Threats aside, Aro felt excitement and pride rising again in his chest. If he proved himself, if he succeeded on the mission, maybe Ryith would even consider him for his elite group of warriors in a few years. He knew he was far too young now and no amount of skill could make up for the experience he didn’t have, but Ryith’s expectations, high as they were, lifted his spirits even further. He strutted back to the fire with his cup, running his fingers over the streaks of dried dye on his face, not realizing that he was smiling. 

He heard Jaid call to him from the other side of the fire, and he went over there, laughing and greeting four or five of his friends, all of whom were at least two years older than he was. He accepted their rough congratulations, sitting cross legged by the fire and staring into the flames, not realizing that there was silence around the fire until Jaid began slapping his thigh, humming in a low, rhythmic tone. One by one, Wanderers around the fire joined him, chanting in the same suspenseful, thrilling tone, quiet at first but quickly rising in volume. Aro finally couldn’t hold back his smile as he joined in their battle chant.