Saskia Kerraelas

Saskia Kerraelas

The Shadow Knight
Weaver
"How are you holding up, Kerraelas?"

Saskia stirred, twisting towards the figure lit in a halo that stood only at the threshold of her door. Her room, small and yet filled to the brim in belongings, was dark. It was a reflection of her feelings, and her shadows came at the call of her melancholy. "I'll be alright."

Her answer did not seem to satisfy. She could not truly make out who it was that stood in the light, of which did not reach too far into her room when her shadows were quick to feast on it. What would happen if that light touched her? Should she burn? Would it purify her, heal her?

"I'm going to... fetch someone." And the figure turned to the side. Saskia sat up, a little intrigued that Syr Kerrigan had been the one to check up on her. Well, she had the right to look in on her. There had been a number of them present, traveling back to Astenvale and having stopped by at a village to take a quick respite. It was there that Saskia had used her time of rest to entertain a small group of children curious of the passing Knights. She had thought nothing of it, to use and weave her shadows in the daylight, creating figures of shadows to entertain the children with the tale of The Robin and the Willow Branch in accompaniment.

She didn't realise the cry of horror from a mother was directed at her. Saskia had stood up, alert, looking around for a threat.
Only she did not realise she was the perceived threat.

"Witch!"

That word had never stung before. It had never been used against her in such a way.

"It is best you all move on now."

Saskia had been quick to stop listening. The act of men and women sheparding their children away from her, spitting their quiet venom at her and the omen of the blight she was for weaving darkness on a bright and sunny day. Unnatural. A harbinger for ill intentions. Hadn't she heard all of this once before? For years before she was told to make the choice. Become a knight or become a dweller of the forest, lost, and without a home to return to.

Again, Saskia sank into the depths of her sheets. The cloth pulled right over her cheek bones. She noticed the door hadn't been closed all the way, and irritation rose up within her. "You forgot to close the door." She murmured into the dark. The room shifted in ripples of the void, moving to close the door, but she will them not to.

"She will come back. They will close the door again." And perhaps she would be awarded another day to float in her sea of unnaturalness.
 
Heavy steps heralded her approach.

Arbok was no stranger to provoking odd reactions from others. Her great size alone made her imposing and it was probably that alone that meant she was rarely in earshot of what was said about her but she knew it all the same, she wasn't foolish.

And that was without her OTHER condition, shapeshifting was rare enough even around these parts and her lack of complete control over it left her under scrutiny more than once.
This was to say that to her at least it made sense that Ser Kerrigan asked her to come.

Her hair hung in a thick braid as she leaned under the rim of the door, stooping just to get a good look in, half ways still in the hall as if she had to reveal herself slowly to avoid causing fright or upset further and all she saw was a huddle of sheets which presumably held Saskia.

Arbok knew her a bit, mostly to see and banter a few words with at the stables as she caught her on comings and goings.
This would be her first REAL conversation with her.

"Em, Sas... Ser Saskia?"

It was her of course, why was she asking?

"It's me, Arbok. Ser Kerrigan told me what happened yesterday."

Gently she entered as if touching anything would cause it to shatter like thin glass. The room just about accommodated her though she held her sunhat in her hands about her waist, the work clothes brought the smell of stables with her wherever she went. It was a busy month and she had missed throwing them in on laundry day.

"She wants me to talk to you about it. I think..."
She distracted herself with the objects in the room though in the gloom she could make out only a few things, a comb of what looked like dark marble, a small collection of stones, a doll in a black dress. It was pretty in here if lacking a bit of colour variety.

"I think she thinks I'll be able to help because of my own experiences with Astenvale but it might be because she hopes the stable funk will shift you out of bed!"

It wasn't for everyone but Arbok liked the bitter tang of horse and old hay. She oft wondered if that was because of her bearness.

"But you got off easy, at least you didn't end up trotting through the Monastery naked. Remember the eclipse? I hid away for a week after that, I couldn't look the Abbot in the eye."

She scuffed the floor with her toe and added, more to herself than to Saskia.

"I lost my best boots that day."

Arbok had erupted out of them like a feral cat from a wet paper bag and all of her other clothes. How was she to know a solar event would make her change and she knew it wasn't really the same but she hoped Saskia would feel a bit better knowing that she'd gotten into trouble with her magic as well.

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
The light at the door was blocked, and for a moment Saskia believed it had been closed. It creaked open as someone stepped inside, and for the life of her, she knew far too many names that came to mind of who was able to fill the doorway like so.

Despite her melancholy, she smiled at the sound of Arbok's voice. Hard not to forget that rumbling sound as the shifter. They had fought alongside one another at the skirmish, and passed pleasantries at the stables or the Knoll on occasion. Perhaps Syr Kerrigan had seen Saskia and Arbok converse before? Saskia wouldn't put it past the Poisoner to see what most others do not.

Sitting up straight in her bed, Saskia willed the shadows to slowly wade back towards her corner. It allowed more light into the room, so that Arbok may be more comfortable standing inside the smaller room.

Boots! Boots... boots... the shadows spoke in whispers and tongue, and Saskia did not make a move to acknowledge it. They knew she listened, always listened. "Surely they are not the same boots given to the scarecrow in the crop field outside Astenvale?" It was as her shadows had whispered to her. Saskia had walked past there on the way home, say the strange attire used to dress the scarecrow.

But she did not touch on the subject of her reserved behaviour as of late. It was her darkness, and not one to impose on others.
 
Arbok was surprised, the light came in stronger, Saskia sat up and she knew where her boots had gone!
She was amazing at this and yet as her jaw hung slack she could not stop her candid response to this information.

"Is that where they are?"

They were good boots, sturdy and even though she'd damaged them in the change if they could fit the scarecrow they might yet be fixable. Cobbler's existed for this exact reason.

All her careful posturing forgotten Arbok hurried to Saskia's bed and clapped her hands to usher her to hurry, to move.

"Okay, you're taking me to the scarecrow and we are getting my boots back. No buts, no fussing. So get dressed."

She all but yanked the sheets away from Saskia to get her up. It was a thing she got from her Granma who often woke her up with loud claps of her leathered hands and removing her bedsheets.
Once she banged the pots together, Arbok had dared to sleep in until past sunrise.

"Come on, shake a leg!"
She would never have dared speak like this to any knight but she forgot herself in the moment. It took her ages to get replacement boots and so the thought of retrieving them was like a kind of setting the world to rights again for her. It simply had to happen and it could not happen fast enough.

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
The echoes of the claps rang in her ears, bouncing off her plain walls. Saskia began to slowly kick away her sheets, her legs swinging to the side as Arbok hastened her. Her feet, bare, touched the rug on the floor and immediately moved towards the chest of drawers. That was where her socks lived, and as she pulled on a pair, the Shadow Knight turned to Arbok.

"Would you like to walk? It is only just over an hour's walk." Saskia didn't mind the idea of it. The sun was bright, outshining anything that day. For a warm day, it hadn't been too bad in her room. Perhaps there was a breeze out?

But over her sleeping layers, Saskia pulled a linen dress over her head. The light blue colour made her look livelier, as blue often did for her. Just to be safe and sure, Saskia pulled her green woolen shawl from the drawers. Draped it from one shoulder, behind her back, and fastened it back across to her shoulder. She knew without that protection, her shoulders would burn in the sun!

"I must put on my boots and then I am ready to go." She turned back towards her bed, sitting on it and then fishing a hand under her bed. The shadows moved, and suddenly her boots were pushed forwards on the opposite side to where hand was searching. "There they are..." She murmured, beginning to pull them on.
 
Arbok cast a weather eye out of the window and into the sky. It was so much brighter out there then in she could barely make any details out.

"Yeah a walk should be okay, just get some water before we go and grab some biscuits or something to eat, if you skip breakfast completely Ser Kerrigan will have my guts for bootlaces."

Arbok never missed her own breakfast, people thought it was because of her size but that was only part of it. Life needed fueling and breakfast got the day started. More of her Granma's influence.

"Have you got a hat? The sun is serious today."
She looked about again in the newly lit room and saw much more than she had initially. Some toys of string and wood and a hand mirror, things gathered from a life spent. She knew that Saskia was almost always palying with her shadows, playing was probably not the right word, they were like an extension of her. Like a tail, that moved things or reacted to her, like a mood ring or so Arbok thought. The extra light was positive, affirming a turn in mood.

"You could walk in my shadow if you don't."
Her size had to be good for something other than moving hay.
"Just don't play with it!"
She added with a grin.

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
Saskia looked down at herself, lips skewing to one side as she debated her outfit. The green shawl was a comfort tool, something she valued the most out of anything else she collected on her travels. Slowly, she pulled it off her shoulders and folded it back to be returned to the drawer. "Oh, perhaps you are right..."

It was never a good idea to hide in someone's shadow. Not only would the temptation to play tricks was right there but Saskia didn't want to hear what other people's shadows wished to whisper in her ear. Instead, Saskia tried a strained, weak smile. "I have a hat!"

Rummaging in the small wardrobe, she came back to stand upright, holding a straw hat that was neatly made. It had a wide brim, and a ribbon wrapped around it to make it more her's. "How's this?"
She asked, pulling it to sit on her golden head nicely. "Think this won't be too bad... maybe a different shawl..." Back to the wardrobe she went, rummaging and searching until her fingers felt the soft cloth.

Pulling it out, it was the colour of soft butter. Linen, a really soft and thin sort, and Saskia wrapped that around her shoulders. "I made this!"

The shadows slowly returned to their natural forms, in the places they ought to be found without interruption.
 
Arbok liked red, it always looked warm to her.
"I like it, it suits you."
That was something people said when they were being nice, she had no idea what made anything suit anyone outside of whether they looked comfortable or not but it did look comfortable and the hat was important.

"Really?"
Other than mending Arbok had only a few experiences with tailoring and found her hand reaching out to touch the fabric. It was well made, sturdy. She felt a pang of envy at her skill, fixing was one thing but making a thing wholesale was another entirely but it would have to wait, they had a mission.

"Tell me about it on the way. You're ready, let's shoot the crow!"
Her hand went from admiring to ushering as she shooed Saskia out towards the door.
"Take me to my boots!"

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
The day was what could be considered a splendid day, for there came a light breeze to cool as the heat of the day rose from the baked earth. The sun took intervals behind clouds, granting the two some reprieve from unrelenting rays.

As soon as they both stepped outside, Saskia became quiet. She walked half a pace behind Arbok and kept her gaze on the ground. Her confidence had been shaken, and despite being coaxed from her room by Arbok, it didn't mean she had time to prepare facing those that knew her. Luckily, no one stopped them for a chat.

"I wonder why your boots were taken to the scarecrow..." She pondered aloud, keeping her head down enough that not a lot of the knights hanging about could tell who it was beneath the wide brim of her hat. "Perhaps that is where most things go when found? Easiest place to visit and see if what you lost ended up there."

Whenever she lost something, the shadows were quick to lead her to it, or as it recently began to do, hand it to her through the shadows. Saskia wondered if she made another familiar made from shadow, and that was how lost things were delivered to her...
 
Taking her time to not get too far in front of Saskia, Arbok walked calmly, letting herself enjoy the walk for what it was and give her muscles time for light exercise though she was glad Saskia had begun conversation it had not occured to her that it was strange for her boots to end up on the scarecrow.

"I guess someone found them after the eclipse and took em. Maybe it was one of the Naggs or the Hemly's?"
Two of the bigger farming families in the area held large portions of land beyond the grounds of the Monastery and Town and provided no small amounts of work for journeymen and travellers.
It made sense to her that one of them would use found clothing for a scarecrow but Saskia seemed to imply that there might be more to it, applying some mischievous destiny to it.

Her eyes fell behind her onto Saskia wondering if she was okay. She wasn't but she was trying and it felt like Arbok's duty to support that in her.
"Maybe, we might find some other lost things there."

She bent over as she smiled, eyes tight and long brown braid swaying under her head like a clock pendulum to make sure Saskia could see it. The shadow of her wide brimmed hat eclipsing Saskia's own to a deeper shade.

It wasn't much but a smile from a friend could be what you need sometimes and Arbok had smiles to spare.

"Maybe I lost a nice shirt too and that naughty scarecrow has it!"
She hadn't but if the scarecrow was in a nice shirt well then...

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
Saskia braved a smile onto her face, lifting her head enough to see Arbok without the impediment of her hat blocking their gazes. "I lost my scarf to it once over winter."

Almost twice, but Saskia's shadows were quick to alert her of her forgotten scarf in Astenvale town. She had never ran so quickly, snatching it from the back of the chair she had been seated on earlier that eve.

"Now I do not know what your boots look like, but I don't think they are Gruki's... they looked bigger. Quite muddy but... you will be the one to identify them at least!" Her smile strained, and a pit of unease settled within her. She could not ignore it, she could not try to alleviate it. It was not physical, or perhaps it was?

Saskia didn't want to dwell on it. Not out here in the open.
 
A strong and gentle hand touched Saskia's arm right above the elbow for support and in a show of both unusual tact and smoothness Arbok followed the motion with a hook into Saskia's arm. Though her height meant they were joined wrist to elbow rather than elbow to elbow so she completed the link on her end with her other arm, hanging hand off hand casually.

"If they are bigger than Gruki's then they are absolutely mine. I am the only person with bigger feet in the whole monastery I think."

Another person might have felt self conscious about their big feet, especially a young woman but Arbok had spent most of her life with only her Granma and was a teenager by the time she learned about things like body shame and that all sounded silly to her. She was more aware of how small and fragile everyone seemed to her.

"Tell me about the scarf, did you make that as well?"

She'd noticed the look on Saskia's face and she was not going to let her retreat into herself without a fight. She knew how bad it could be. The urge to go deeper and deeper into the endless hole of yourself but that was what other people were for, to get you out and keep you going. It was Gruki and Lou and the others who helped her when she was down and low after the Skirmish and now she was going to do the same for Saskia.

Not far from them a pair of magpies landed on the grass as they passed, they pecked at the ground and looked about them, wary but steadfast as the two went on their way. A good omen, she thought.

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
Saskia nodded. When she realised that she ought to have spoken aloud, she cleared her throat.

"I had to learn how to mend my things. When I go flower picking, I always get my sleeves or trousers caught on branches and thorns and whatnot. Once I learned that, I figured I could learn more than that. There is a book in the library, several of them! A good thing to pass the time... but yes, I make all my scarves and shawls and half cloaks." Saskia always liked to dress up. Whenever there was a festival or a dance, she would always show up in her loveliest gear. It was the promise of merriment, and the hint of whimsy that sparks in places like that.

"In fact," she continued, pulling back her shadows that tried to sneak up on the magpies, "I am working on a dress of my own making. Yellow, of course." Her favourite colour, and often paired it with her second, blue.
 
"It's a good skill to have. I think it was Ser Roebin who told us that if you can mend you'll always have work but if you can make then you'll always have what you need, or something like that. I forget his exact words."

Arbok did not do impressions but she held her finger up in the air as if she was giving some lesson and not trying to remember it.

"I can patch up pretty good but with the stables and training I don't have the time to dedicate to making new clothes."
She kicked her leg out in front to show the neat and solid stitched repair of her overalls to make her point.

"Still maybe I'll head to the library for a look for these books if I find a moment."
It could not go any worse than last time. Hector and her had still not spoken since and it was not as if they had not opportunity. She worked in the stables. Whenever he'd need a horse or saddle she was usually there.

Under the shade of her sun hat she blushed slightly remembering just WHAT the small man accused them of.
Courting?
Courting Hector...

Arbok stumbled and caught herself with a forced laugh.
"Whoops. This road. Uh, lots of loose stones."

She kicked one to the side of the road and felt bad for blaming the rocks for her own clumsiness then tried to get the conversation back on track.
"A yellow dress? You'll look well in that I think."

She imagined it quite completely yellow in fact, the colour of butter and gleaming in the sun.
"Is it for the last harvest?"

The end of summer heralded all manner of celebrations and Last Harvest was the biggest one. A whole week of feasting and merriment. Arbok had gotten quite used to going. She always did well in the tug-o-war.

@Saskia Kerraelas
 
Saskia smiled, the muscles in her face twitching from the effort of fighting against the guilt of such an emotion. "Yes, it is. I don't always need an excuse to look nice, but if there is an event I can go to, then I will be looking my absolute best." The colour was perfect, and drew Sask in right away when she had spotted it in the wagon of a traveling merchant. "I am also going to try my hand at embroidery."

She turned her gaze to Arbok, but not before looking at the ground that were free of loose stones. There was no need of asking Arbok if she was clumsy or not, for the Shadow Knight did not wish to evoke bad luck upon herself for pointing out something silly. Instead, an idea came to mind. "Oh, Arbok? Would you like me to make you something for Last Harvest? I have some nice material for a vest... it's a dusty red colour, or I could do a lovely blue one for you?"
 
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