Rowan Oleander
Rowan Oleander
Rowan was raised by the Church of Estovia, & spent her childhood training to be a priestess and cleric of the Infallible Goddess. She is currently traveling with an adventuring party.
Family:
She was kept apart from her biological family, but was occasionally allowed to visit home after age 10. She had a close relationship with her older sister and father, but struggled to connect with her mother.
Her mother, Lorena Dirge, died when Rowan was young (12 years old). Rowan’s sister, Alexandria (Dria) Oleander, disappeared years ago on a mission trip with an adventuring party (13 years old). Rowan’s father, Virran Oleander, is currently an archivist of a small library in Estovia.
Friends:
Rowan considers her friends to be part of her family. At 5 years old she befriended Lydia Merian, a younger human girl who was also training to be a priestess.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Rowan possesses a thin build, with a quickness that makes up for her lack of physical strength.
Body Features
She has a faint scar stretching across her left knee, from the time she fell from a tree as a child.
Her face and arms are dotted with freckles, with which she and Lydia used to play "connect-the-dots".
Rowan has a scar running down the back of her spine, spelling out a sentence written in Elvish.
Facial Features
Rowan takes after her father, with brown hair & green eyes.
Identifying Characteristics
She has a necklace inscribed with her holy symbol, and is never without her journal.
On her right ankle, she has a brand of Estovia's mark of the Infallible Goddess. She recieved the mark when she was sent to the Church at five years old. It serves as a reminder of her duty to her country, and to the Goddess.
She has a marred brand on the back of her neck, as a result from passing her Church's priestess training.
Physical quirks
Rowan has a hard time keeping still.
She writes journal entries as a way to calm and ground herself.
Rowan bites her nails when she is particularly stressed or upset.
Apparel & Accessories
She prefers plain civilian clothes, & usually braids or ties her hair back so it won't interfere with work.
For special occasions, she prefers to leave her hair down.
She wears two necklaces that are from the Church of the Infallible Goddess (one is her own, & one is Dria's).
Mental characteristics
Personal history
As a priestess of the Infallible Goddess, Rowan once showed great loyalty towards the Estovian people. She disagreed with some of Estovia's morals, & tried to hide her displeasure.
Gender Identity
Rowan is biologically female. She has never felt uncomfortable with that designation/label, & has never thought to think of her gender as fluid.
She respects other people's perspectives on the topic of gender, & makes sure that she refers to everyone with their preferred prounouns/names.
Sexuality
Rowan tends to fall in love with personality, & gender doesn't seem to have an effect on who she likes.
Rowan develops crushes fairly quickly, but has only confessed her love once.
**(Spoiler Alert: It did not go well...)
She's open to being in a poly relationship, & currently has feelings for multiple people.
Education
Rowan was educated in the Church of the Infallible Goddess, located in Novegrad, Estovia. Their education system was built to encourage competition between students, even to an unhealthy level.
Rowan was considered a bright child, but far too clingy. They corrected this behavior by moving Rowan to an isolated room & locking her in to complete her lessons. After a year of this arrangement, teachers were proud to report that Rowan made no further attempts to cling to anyone else.
Employment
She is a certified priestess and life cleric in the country of Estovia.
Recently became an employee of the Leviathan.
Accomplishments & Achievements
She has achieved her first offical quest (by Armin's invitation).
She successfully prevented Lady Everess' assassination at the banquet.
She found Lydia in Estovia, & successfully removed the Geas & modify memory spells Lydia placed on her.
She successfully defeated the Monster of Cavriri (Dria) with her party.
Failures & Embarrassments
She becomes easily embarrassed if she shows negative emotions (ex: anger, grief, fear, etc).
S̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶t̶r̶u̶l̶y̶ ̶f̶a̶i̶l̶e̶d̶.̶
Rowan has failed the following people:
-Trixie
-Dria
-Gerath
-Mateus
Mental Trauma
Rowan doesn't like to dwell on the past, & finds it easier to let go of strong emotions. She has been known to run from confrontation, & will close herself off from her emotional state as a method of self-preservation.
Religious Aspects:
The Church of the Infallible Goddess demands loyalty & unity above everything else. For example, Rowan would've been ambidextrous, but her left arm was restrained to encourage her to be right-handed (for the purpose of uniformity). At times, the Church would isolate Rowan from Lydia in an attempt to direct Rowan's loyalty strictly to the Infallible Goddess.
Due to these methods of punishment, Rowan has a strong need to prove her worthiness. She prefers to place her beliefs i̶n̶ ̶E̶s̶t̶o̶v̶i̶a̶ in her party, rather than a Goddess that she's never personally encountered. Rowan doesn't consider these methods to be unusual, & believes that these punishments are common around the world.
Familial Aspects:
Rowan's mother (Lorena) used to employ the "silent treatment" with her children when she was displeased. Rowan grew up to be uncomfortable in unnatural silences, & she may resort to acting out in order to receive a reaction.
Dria (Rowan's older sister), created a familial rift when she left to be part of an adventuring party. Due to Dria's disappearance, Rowan dislikes the feeling of abandonment. Rowan will go to great lengths to prevent being left behind or forgotten.
Rowan's father (Virren Oleander) is often nonsensical, with rare moments of clarity. Because he lives alone, he often forgets to take care of himself & the house. Rowan tends to take up the role of "caretaker" every time she visits him. She loves him, but it worries her to think that she could end up like her father (alone & half-mad).
Personal Aspects:
Rowan worries that she won't live up to everyone's expectations. She knows how steep the price of failure can be.
She desperately wants to find her place in the world, & find people she can befriend and love in the process.
Intellectual Characteristics
Rowan is fairly booksmart, but her knowledge is limited to what the Estovian Church allowed her to access.
She'll keep quiet & listen if she thinks someone else knows better, & she's always excited to learn more about the world around her.
Rowan has little street smarts, & can be dense when it comes to social situations.
She's the type of person to awkwardly pat your shoulder if you're crying, & she has no idea how to deal with negative emotions.
Morality & Philosophy
Rowan will go to great lengths to befriend almost everyone.
Rowan would prefer to avoid violence and carnage, but she will stand her ground if need be. She considers it a black mark on her soul to kill someone (if not absolutely neccessary).
Taboos
Religious Aspects:
In Estovia, it's illegal to worship any other diety that isn't the Infallible Goddess. People who do so are considered traitors and heretics of the country, & people are urged to immediately report them for punishment and "reeducation".
Immigrants or travelers from other countries are often treated with disrespect and distain, especially if they don't worship the Infallible Goddess.
How Religion Affects Priestesses:
As a priestess of the Infallible Goddess, Rowan is expected to make sacrifices for Estovia throughout her life. She is allowed to marry & create a family of her own, but her duty to Estovia will always come before her family. Priestesses are considered holy/devout public figures, & to marry a priestess will elevate one's status as an Estovian citizen.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
Rowan is motivated by her desire to explore the world and meet new people. She is also looking for Lydia (her best friend who recently went missing), and Dria (her sister who vanished on an adventuring party quest).
Savvies & Ineptitudes
Social Skills:
Rowan is known for her honesty and ability to raise people's spirits. She chooses her words carefully, and can easily see through a lie (if she wants to).
Arts and Craft skills:
Rowan is skilled at writing, calligraphy, sewing, drawing, and playing any instrument resembling a flute.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes:
sunrises, flowers, Lydia Merian, Marcus, Kara Ikusei, Kestis Ikusei, Armin, "Claire" (Eileen Clarice Lozano), Eli (Lady Eliana Brighworth, Gareth Leophine (Mateus), EB (Eldritch Bestie), Miranda Cartier
Unsure:
The Infallible Goddess (Sov)
Deverim
Virtues & Personality perks
Virtues:
Do no uncessary harm.
Live everyday like it's your last.
Respect and trust are earned, not given.
Take care of those around you.
Don't make a habit of making enemies.
Befriend those who let you.
Don't say everything that's on your mind.
If you can avoid conflict, do so.
Be open to all perspectives.
Perks:
As an Estovian priestess, Rowan holds a respected and honored position. Priestesses are welcomed throughout Estovia, and often allowed to roam wherever they please. Priestesses are known to be holy and peaceful figures in Estovian society.
As a cleric, Rowan has the ability to heal. The Estovian people view this career as a respectable one that is greatly needed. Clerics are known to be gentle and trustworthy people throughout the world.
Vices & Personality flaws
Vices:
None (currently)
Flaws:
Rowan tends to see the best in the world and its people. Unfortunately, this means that she is slow to realize the bad/evil qualities in those she loves.
She is incredibly naive, and has had no experiences outside of Estovia.
Her innocence can blind her from accepting the full truth.
Rowan struggles to work through and express negative emotions. She tends to suppress her stronger feelings and reactions.
She prefers to avoid conflict.
Personality Quirks
Rowan dislikes loud/angry noises. She'll cover her ears and physically shrink back from someone who is upset/angry.
She writes in her journal when she feels uncomfortable, or to clear her head.
She'll fidget with her hands and hair when she's lost in thought.
Rowan has a terrible habit of biting her nails when she's overwhelmed or upset.
She offers flowers to people she likes, and uses flower language to convey how she feels about them.
Hygiene
Rowan is very hygienic. Because she's a cleric, she knows how easy it is to get an infection or spread a disease. She makes sure that the people around her take care of themselves, which calms her and provides a sense of purpose.
Social
Contacts & Relations
Party Members:
**Lady Eli: noble samurai tiefling who used to be a paladian. Rowan thinks the world of her & trusts her more than anyone else.
**Tai: a half-elf bard who is socially awkward & easily embarrassed. Rowan finds him endearing & charming (he's strikingly similar to another bard she once knew).
**Severin: a human bloodhunter who was involved with the Gerath/Mateus incident. Rowan's scared of him. She sees herself in Sevrim & it terrifies her.
**Tadoka: a wood-elf druid who's extremely reserved & quiet. Rowan doesn't know her, & she's not sure how to feel about her.
*̶*̶"̶C̶l̶a̶i̶r̶e̶"̶ ̶(̶E̶i̶l̶e̶e̶n̶)̶:̶ ̶a̶ ̶h̶a̶l̶f̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶r̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶a̶ ̶t̶e̶m̶p̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶'̶s̶ ̶t̶e̶r̶r̶i̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶f̶l̶i̶r̶t̶i̶n̶g̶.̶ ̶R̶o̶w̶a̶n̶ ̶m̶i̶s̶s̶e̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶w̶f̶u̶l̶l̶y̶.̶
M̶a̶t̶e̶u̶s̶ ̶&̶ ̶G̶a̶r̶e̶t̶h̶:̶ ̶t̶w̶o̶ ̶s̶o̶u̶l̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶b̶o̶d̶y̶,̶ ̶b̶o̶t̶h̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶q̶u̶i̶c̶k̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶ ̶&̶ ̶s̶i̶l̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶o̶n̶g̶u̶e̶s̶.̶ ̶R̶o̶w̶a̶n̶ ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶k̶e̶e̶p̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶m̶i̶s̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶b̶a̶c̶k̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶d̶a̶y̶.̶
Non-party members:
Church of Estovia: Rowan's place of education, housing, and childhood.
The Infallible Goddess (Sov): a woman who became a goddess, Goddess of Estovia whom Rowan is pledged to.
Lydia: childhood best friend who Rowan adores.
Marcus: former High Inquisitor, Rowan's recent friend/father figure who "facetimes" her by using a magic compass.
Kara: a former soldier, and Rowan's friend (whom she may have romantic feelings for).
Armin: an Artificer who manages a tavern, cursed to be a bear, might be in love with Lady Everess.
Gary: a giant hermit crab, communicates telepathically & controls ice-cream elementals.
Kestis: pirate captain of The Leviathan, brother to Kara, tried to kill Kara.
Miranda: Kestis' second-in-command, "Lady of the Night"
Family Ties
Her father, Virren Oleander, is her only known living relative.
Her mother (Lorena Dirge) is deceased, & her older sister (Alexandria Oleander, Dria) is registered as MIA (missing in action).
Rowan never met her grandparents, as her mother was an only child, & her father was an orphan. Her mother's parents died long before Alexandria & Rowan were born.
Religious Views
Rowan believes that higher beings exist, but doesn't feel the need to ask them for more than the occasional blessing. She is pledged to the Infallible Goddess but has never seen/heard any divine sign from her. Rowan prefers to place her belief in the people around her.
Rowan knows that spirits remain close after death, & she sometimes summons her mother's ghost for advice. She has gathered that when someone is about to die, a space opens up for their soul to return to the fabric of the universe.
Social Aptitude
Rowan navigates social situations fairly well, but is an introvert at heart. She prefers to stay near people she feels comfortable around, & can be wary of new people.
Rowan does miss certain social cues, & might take expressions/sayings literally if she isn't familiar with them.
Mannerisms
Rowan has a very direct eye gaze, & expressive facial features.
When she's uncomfortable, she tends to migrate towards the person she feels safest with.
Rowan likes physical contact, & enjoys holding hands/giving hugs.
When she's not grounded by physical contact, Rowan can have a difficult time keeping still. She fidgets when she is especially stressed/nervous.
Hobbies & Pets
Hobbies:
gardening
writing/drawing
sewing
Pets:
Merian (an orphaned raven she raised, deceased)
Wealth & Financial state
Rowan grew up modestly, and doesn't have a need for wealth as a priestess. She makes more than a decent salary as part of the Leviathan's crew.
As a cleric and priestess of the Infallible Goddess, Rowan spends her time helping and healing those who need it.
View Character Profile
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Priestess of the Infallible Goddess
Life Cleric of Estovia
Citizen of Estovia Who Committed Treason
Wanted Criminal (?)
Age
20
Birthplace
Estovia
Children
Current Residence
Novegrad, Estovia
Gender
Female
Eyes
Green
Hair
Brown
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Pale, with freckles
Height
5’5”
Weight
110 lbs
Quotes & Catchphrases
"Kindness begets kindness."
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Oleander
“Oleander.”
Eli shows her the scrap of charred paper and Rowan forgets how to breathe. Of everything to survive a fire, of course it would be the one word that binds Rowan to this legacy.
She’d thought her mother was dead. Lorena was a cold woman, awful enough that Rowan and Lydia had celebrated after the funeral. Now the anchor had returned to drag Rowan down the same path, through the sewers to a laboratory thick with despair.
Like mother, like daughter.
Had the stationmaster recognized Lorena’s features when Rowan stood over him? Rowan had waited to heal until after the group had decided his fate, her ribcage squeezing in sympathy. There was very little she could do to heal this man.
Grief climbs up her throat and blooms like a flower, Rowan’s eyes fixed on that damning word.
Oleander.
Memory raps at Rowan’s skull and demands to recall the dead.
Lorena sent Rowan to become a cleric, the one who offered up Alexandria on a silver platter to a failed adventuring guild. Lorena had perfect calligraphy that Rowan would recognize anywhere—even if it was smudged with soot.
Rowan has faced worse monsters than her mother, but she’s still stricken with fear at what she might discover. Her friends had taken down Alexandria quickly—and Gerath had killed her with gleeful nonchalance. Even rational, stoic Eli expressed her urge to strike Lydia down. Rowan’s mother will be no different.
Lorena will just be another person that isn’t human enough for Rowan to be allowed to save, someone she’ll mourn over after her friends have washed their hands of the blood.
Rowan stares at the stationmaster before her, wondering if he’d be happier with a dagger in his gut. The worst part is that she doesn’t think she could bring herself to hurt him—he’s suffered enough at the hands of an Oleander.
Rowan’s known her family was odd, but now her bloodline was birthing monsters. The women around Rowan are turning. It’s a pattern that doesn’t escape her notice.
Lorena, Lydia, Alexandria. One dead, two left.
It’s a vicious cycle that Rowan’s trying to break, flailing against the tides of time. She’s low on oxygen, lungs filled only with regret when she comes up for air.
The stationmaster’s still beyond healing. Takoda and Severin are asking Mateus what’s wrong, Floret’s peering into the sewer like it’s going to bite her, and Eli’s still staring at Rowan.
Rowan Oleander. Her name’s meaning was chosen carefully—there is protection in poisoning everyone around oneself.
Some people are an elixir, others a venom. But Rowan Oleander, she slips under the skin, invading the bloodstream to seize hearts with cautious hands.
Rowan Oleander was exactly what Lorena wanted her to be.
Not a person. A threat.
Catalyst
If there’s one thing Rowan learned by the age of five, it was the idea that she was meant for something sacred. Of course, she was promised to the Goddess at birth. But her talent for magic, her skill to weave together skin and sinew? That was a gift not many of the Church possessed.
Some priestesses were meant to be soldiers, wielding weapons like extensions of their own body. Others were drawn to the arts, breathing life into creations that would evoke inspiration. Priestesses of the Infallible Goddess were expected to be useful, above anything else. To please the people of Estovia throughout their lifetime.
It came more naturally to Rowan than some of the other priestesses. Lydia claimed it was part of Rowan’s charm, her constant aura of friendliness. Rowan wasn’t as convinced, but she liked the thought that people felt comfortable around her.
Rowan needed that connection with the people she was supposed to devote her life to. It made her distinctly different than most of the other priestesses. The others were content with staying within the Church walls, to pay homage to the Infallible Goddess with minimal connection to the outside world.
Lydia was like Rowan. She and Rowan had an understanding, that they both needed to venture beyond the Church walls. It was Lydia’s disappearance that compelled Rowan to finally branch away from the Church and Estovia. Whether she’d been aware of it or not, Lydia was the sole reason Rowan had stayed in the Church of the Infallible Goddess for so long.
In a different universe, it could’ve been another priestess, or an Estovian citizen who Rowan stayed behind for. But in this time, Lydia Merian was Rowan’s anchor, tugging at heartstrings.
There are few people Rowan would shed blood and tears for. Lydia Merian was at the top of that list, but her vanishing act allowed the list to expand. It was no longer odd to Rowan, how easy it was to find friends in her traveling companions. It was like losing her footing in a riverbank, with how quickly the dynamics shifted. But every one of them had a strange familiarity attached, a connection that felt like fate to Rowan.
That was what kept her alongside the group, despite how wildly different everyone could be. The familiarity, and a sharper feeling that if she took another path, she’d regret it later. Call it a priestess’ intuition, but Rowan felt it was her job to stay with this strange band of travelers. Something told Rowan that she’d have an easier time of discovering what was happening to Lydia by sticking with the group.
It was a single thought propelling Rowan forward, sometimes keeping her awake at night. The idea that one of Rowan’s friends would be the catalyst for something terrible.
Gone but not Forgotten
The Dead:
Devrim (confirmed)
Jameson (confirmed)
Capt. James (unconfirmed)
Trixie (confirmed)
Alexandria (Dria) (confirmed)
The Missing:
Claire (confirmed, still alive as far as I know)
Gerath & Mateus (confirmed, are still living as far as I know)
Chosen
The Church of the Infallible Goddess was built upon the tale of a young martyr, a woman who sacrificed herself for the sake of her people. The people in Estovia created a church in her honor, in an attempt to carry out her legacy. The Church expanded at a vicious rate over the years, far beyond any of its original founders could've imagined. Religion was an ever-present comfort, no matter the times. People praised their Infallible Goddess when times were prosperous, and clung to her through the ages of darkness that would inevitably follow. The Church made sure that the light of the Infallible Goddess never wavered, as more and more people were drawn to her. They all felt the calling, the dreams pulling closer to a world of fire and loss. A place of burning and agony in which the Church remade the world in the image of the Infallible Goddess. The Church looked for ways to share the word and bring outsiders salvation, spreading their roots like a hungry forest.
And in the many years of success, there were rumors of an unforgettable proposal. Since the Infallible Goddess was chosen by the Church, who was to stop them from choosing a new Infallible One? Surely the Goddess would be pleased to have a chosen vessel to speak directly to her people.
It was a young mother who volunteered. She was content to give the child over, on the condition that it would be born a daughter. Some of the Church objected, but it was decided that the Goddess would welcome any daughter born into her Church, especially one given to her as a vessel.
The birth was full of prayer and sacrifices, anointing the mother with holy oil and a crown of rowan berries. It was said that the hearth by the Church's alter burned more brightly than it had in decades. The young mother was most unlucky, and seemed to fade just as quickly as her radiant baby was birthed. She glowed under the candlelit hall, and screwed up her eyes when the congregation proclaimed her the Infallible's Vessel. The little girl seemed to be alight with burning divinity, and she looked like somebody you'd sacrifice yourself for.
The child grew older, as children so often do. In her grandest form, the Church adorned her with golden robes and iridescent jewels flowing down to the floor. In her greatest form, she ran barefoot in a white cotton shift, drenching her skirts with rain and spreading grass stains across her hems. There were days where she went around all day with flowers twined in her hair and hymns on her lips. Her voice left a flavor of honey and incense on the air.
There was a wildness that she carried with her, one of fierce excitement and boredom. Perhaps she would've been more grounded if the Church had given her a name, but they called her only by her occupation. The girl was known as "Vessel".
The Church called on her to sit on the alter steps each day, and to listen to the Infallible Goddess' inner circle. They wanted to talk to her, to look upon their Vessel with unshakeable devotion. The Church of the Infallible Goddess was utterly besotted with their Vessel, though it was impossible to tell if they loved her as a goddess or as a girl. Perhaps it was both.
Years passed and it became clear that Vessel had reached adulthood but could age no further. She had the face of a saint, pure and sweet in nature. As present as her visage was in the records, nothing beyond her beauty was written down. Even in history she remained a vessel, a pretty young woman who was placidly kept in the Church, sitting and waiting for something.
And something did happen. It wasn't love, the Church was sure of that. It didn't even seem to be happiness. I think it was doubt. A single encounter with another priestess led to a hairline fracture of a universe of doubt. The priestess in question had gone to the Vessel for guidance, and had left the Church that night. Gone to travel the world, without permission or even a note to say her goodbyes. There were whispers that the Vessel had perhaps granted her the freedom to leave, although the Vessel rarely spoke. Who was their Vessel, when no one was looking?
It was said that the Vessel locked herself in her tower, for seven days and seven nights before she came to talk to the Church's elders. When she emerged, there was something startlingly human about her, as if her divinity had been wiped away. She spoke only to ask a question. The Vessel had never asked a question before.
"When will I be allowed to leave?" The Vessel asked. The Church told her that her place was here. To be a symbol, a shield for the people. To leave would be to abandon them.
The Vessel was quiet for a long while before she spoke again. At her proposal, the Church elders felt sadness and grief, but above all they understood. They too, were old and tired, wishing to someday meet the Goddess they were so devoted to.
It was the Vessel herself who suggested it. If the Church tried it and failed, she said, it might be hundreds of years before she had the strength to try again. But if she ceased, not in culmination of fire, but a cold and quiet death, perhaps her light would return to the Infallible Goddess and the Church could try again.
And so they hanged her, as she requested. All because of that most insidious of emotions: Hope. Hope to be reborn as one who was forever content to be what others wished upon her, hope that she could step beyond the Church gates, and the very fragile hope that she would be reborn in the next life as someone, instead of something. That she could allow herself to be more than a Vessel.
The next day they buried their Vessel in an unmarked grave. The Church prayed for a new Vessel, for the Goddess to create a new Incarnate Daughter so that they might speak through that child.
As the day settled into night, with the last rays of light straining to reach the alter, a priestess found a baby girl on the Church steps. Unnamed and unclaimed, they took her in and gave this one a name. A proper name for a second chance.
This one, they called Conduit.
Whether any of these speculations were actually true, is simply a matter of faith. There are an odd number of missing girls and rewritten Church records, and that alone continues to keep the myth alive.
Fix It
Rowan doesn’t know where she is. There’s blurry shapes and shadows that contort into humanoids, but she is lost in an unfamiliar place. Something tells her that she should recognize this, that she should be used to it all by now.
When this happens it always feels like the time someone dumped her in the Church lake. Her chest aches and anxiety writhes beneath the surface. Her limbs weigh her down, frozen and numb against the coolness of panic. Part of her wishes that whoever is dragging her around will stop and leave her behind. At least that would be familiar.
The person (tiefling?) carrying her step through a door and sets her down. Rowan barely stops herself from clinging, choosing to write in her journal. Rowan presses herself into a corner and writes like her life depends on it (perhaps it does). She selfishly finds herself wishing she’d been left alone. One of the humanoids approaches her and she looks up at him in a moment of clarity.
He wants something from her. That much is clear from the pleading tone of voice he’s using. She tunes in a bit, hearing something about “contacting Mateus” and “fixing him”. Rowan can work with that. She’s spent her life fixing people. The man’s eyes flit towards a bed in the room, and Rowan mechanically marches over to assess the situation.
A bruised elven body lays on the bed and Rowan reaches out to him to heal him. As unstable as her magic can be, she manages to bring him back to a stable state of consciousness. Like any good healer, she assures him that he’s safe and looks for other injuries. She finds him unable to speak and seemingly terrified of her. She starts to put the pieces together as he presses himself against a bedpost.
By asking him “yes or no” questions she confirms her suspicions. The atmosphere only grows heavier throughout the conversation. Rowan discovers that the elven man had run into someone who looked exactly like Rowan, and she connects his experience to the Rowan-esque form used by EB. Surely this can be fixed with a simple visit?
Rowan has feeling that EB’s attention won’t be caught so quickly. She tries to communicate, and ultimately summons a boon to speak with said entity. She curls her fingers around the boon and feels someone snatch it away from her. People are arguing and a familiar looking tiefling grabs Rowan by the shoulders. Her name slips through Rowan’s mind like a raindrop, cool and soothing but impossible to catch.
Oh. This tiefling (Eli?) must have an injury for Rowan to heal too. Why else would she be commanding Rowan’s attention at this moment? She begins to check the tiefling over, paying little attention to the rising emotions throughout the room.
Passing over limbs and scarred tissue, her hand lands on something hidden in the tiefling’s sleeve. A fragile boon that feels so familiar to Rowan that her automatic reaction is to hold onto it. The boon seems to beat along with the rhythm of her own heart, a consistency among chaos. It’s unsettlingly comforting.
Rowan’s breathing steadies and she opens her eyes to see they are no longer in a room. The dark opens a gaping mouth and swallows her, spitting her out to stand by the people she now recognizes as her traveling companions. Comic and Nyx stand apart from the group, and they seem angry. Their voices are too loud and Rowan has nowhere to run. Nyx shouts louder and Rowan clenches her fists on instinct. She feels something break (the boon!) as her nails dig into her skin. Rowan’s dazed, feeling as though someone smashed her with a sledgehammer over the head. She wouldn’t blame them if they had.
Comic speaks to Severim, mentioning something about a deal and Rowan’s stomach lurches with unease. She has a terrible feeling that this wouldn’t have happened if she told everyone the truth. And she would’ve, but some part of her thought she could fix it on her own. That if she told everything, then everyone would treat her like they had Mateus. Like a vicious animal that might turn on them at any moment. Rowan is hit with a sudden longing to see Mateus again. He would’ve known what to do.
She should’ve just bitten the bullet, spilled her guts to avoid the slow death of bleeding out. Rowan stands before the Watchers and she is terrified at how easily they can see through her. The others aren’t much better. She’s seen the way they look at her, and it was only a matter of time before they outgrew her.
Rowan snaps her eyes shut. There has to be a way to fix this, and perhaps it can start with Rowan telling the truth. That way, the knowledge she’s gathered will stay with them when they choose to leave her behind.
Rowan hopes that they’ll let her stick around a little while longer. It was nice to be around people that didn’t only see her as a healer or an observer. It was nice to be treated like a person.
Resigned to her fate, Rowan opens her eyes.
Adrift
Nyx is standing with their arms crossed, and the entire group is looking at Rowan. Everyone is looking at her, and she is frozen in place. There's nowhere for her to run, no one for her to hide behind this time. The worst part is that she wants so badly to tell them, but she doesn't know if she can. Eli's known about EB for a while. She knows Severin will figure it out on his own, that he'll tell Takoda after he pieces it together. Another reason for them to dislike Rowan.
Nyx has been suspicious of her for a while. They've been Watching her. She knows what they can do, and tries her best to direct her thoughts away from information she's not supposed have. Rowan's caught like a spider in a web, unable to free herself without betraying EB. She wishes to be anywhere but here.
Miranda says something, asking Nyx to go easier on her. Rowan appreciates the sentiment, but it won't help. Nyx has done worse things than ask a few pointed questions. Rowan feels too guilty to stop it. If she wanted, she could've saved Trixie. She has the power to ask for anything and everything, and she's too paralyzed to use it. She just wanted to help people, and now everyone is staring at her like she's a traitor.
Maybe she is, to some extent. She hasn't been completely honest, she's snuck around, and she's expected people to trust her based on words alone. Rowan doesn't want to lose anyone's trust, but that's impossible here.
Nyx is understandably angry at her for refusal to answer. Rowan expects backlash, but she's unprepared for what they say next. Nyx spits out a venomous implication that this isn't the first time someone's forced Rowan into silence. It's true enough to catch her off guard.
Rowan's vision blurs as she tries to keep herself still. No reactions, and the threat will pass. Her ears catch a snippets of conversation. "Potential traitor" falls from a sharp tongue, tasting of iron and salt as Eli's voice answers in turn. She's angry. Eli is angry and Rowan finds herself too numb to care. Noise fades into muffled background static. All the colors swirling in front of her eyes are garishly bright and it makes her eyes ache.
Someone's calling for her. The unknown voice feels safe enough, even if she doesn't understand what's being said. The colors of the world shift and sway in dizzying proportions. Rowan gives up on focusing and lets herself drift.
Alone Together
When Rowan hits the masked intruder with a bolt of lightning, she aims for the mask. The mask, with its too-wide grin, seems to leer at her as it shatters. She watches as the masked assailant turns into dissipating smoke.
The people around her are quiet for a moment, and then everyone jumps back into action. Rowan grabs the familiar looking dagger, Eli disables a poison trap, and together they wake up Shiro. Rowan would be lying if she said she wasn’t paranoid. She makes sure to remove any memory spells on Shiro, or any kind of geas. He’s untouched, but Rowan knows firsthand that you can never be too careful.
Rowan keeps that in mind as she slips the dagger into Eli’s backpack, figuring that she’ll get more use out of it. What use does Rowan have for a dagger, when she could strike down things with lightening? And who better to give it to than Eli?
Eli, who has been a protector from the day Rowan met her. Eli, who tried her best to help Rowan with the orphaned owlbear cubs (even though she was technically hired to kill them). The tiefling who found Rowan in a cage at a bandit camp and freed her. The paladin who was afraid to let Rowan out of her sight. Eli, who was kind and sweet. She made Rowan want to be a better person.
Yes, Eli was trustworthy. Rowan had known her for less than a year but she felt as though they understood each other. They both understood what it was to be left behind, and how important it was to stay together. Eli was the first person (besides Lydia) who had stayed around Rowan for such a long period of time. All the others had left for things that were bigger and better than Rowan’s company. Even now, Eli still chose to keep Rowan close in her own country. She could’ve abandoned Rowan at the gates, but she didn’t.
She’s standing in front of Rowan, carrying out orders and taking charge of the situation. Rowan is quiet and blends into the background as best she can, circling back to the shattered mask in the hall. She picks it up and mends it, watching the cracks disappear until she holds the thing in her hand. She’s preparing to slip it into her bag when she feels something is different.
Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on. Put it on.
Rowan recoils and nearly drops it, turning to Eli, Severim, Tai, and Takoda. They must see the alarm on her face, and start asking her what’s wrong.
She opens her mouth to answer, and—
Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Why wouldn’t it be?
Everything is so fine, in fact, that Rowan releases her grip on something in her hand. She drops the mask and feels an icy horror chill her bones. She feels colder still when her new acquaintances insist on holding it, even after seeing how it’s affected other people. She’s relieved when Eli doesn’t volunteer to do so, and feels worried for Sevrim and Tai as they attempt to destroy it.
Rowan is drained, as though the mask leeched something out of her. She’s tired and she can’t even feel properly anxious because Tai has cast some sort of spell that muffles everyone’s emotions. People are talking at once, overlapping voices that are suddenly silenced by Nyx’s telepathy. Except Nyx is so much louder than before and it hurts Rowan’s head. Her lungs feel tight and she’s put her hands over her ears to block out some of the chaos. She’s forgotten how loud people can be sometimes. Each time she starts to feel anxious, Tai’s damned spell twines itself tighter around her and pulls her down. The feeling is fuzzy and blurred, making it manageable for Rowan to calm herself.
Rowan focuses on the one constant that she’s had, picking Eli’s confident voice from the crowd and listening to only her. The thrum of compulsion still lingers, but Rowan understands that she has to stay. She’s not allowed to leave her party behind. Rowan is a cleric and she is to stay with people as long as they need her healing, her company. That is her purpose.
Rowan’s eyes flit between party members, and she almost says a prayer to the goddess she never believed in. She hopes these people will choose to stay longer than her previous friends. She’s already beginning to trust them, and it would be a shame if they left so soon.
Rowan is tired of being left behind, but at least this time she isn’t alone.
Dangerous Choices
Rowan is tired, but she cannot allow herself to rest. She immerses herself in the crowd that is frozen with fascination, listening to the New Transcendalist preacher. They speak with the warmth and clarity of someone who is practiced in the art of public speaking, of someone who knows they can win the hearts of their people. Rowan is slightly comforted by the idea that faith is universal, that people still have something to believe in. There is another part of her that protests, a darker part that wants to claw its way up her throat and tell everyone around her that faith won’t save any of them from what’s arriving.
She’s seen it. Rowan knows what will happen, and she doesn’t know if she can stop it. But she can listen, she can gather information, and she can try to keep the people she loves alive.
Rowan cuts through the throngs of people, alone in a crowd full of civilians. She’s scanning her surroundings when her eyes catch on a nearby rooftop. Eli and Claire stand atop it, looking down at Rowan with worried expressions. Rowan lifts her hand up to wave at them, and is interrupted by the harsh shouts of guards. They’re dressed in formidable gear, shoving and pushing the suddenly panicking crowd. The preacher’s shouts are lost as people begin to scatter, and Rowan walks calmly into a side alley.
She presses a hand against the wall and begins to travel towards Eli and Claire’s roof, keeping her head down and away from the chaos ensuing. Rowan can hear guards arresting people and she almost turns back. Deep down, she knows she can’t do anything to help them.
Rowan reaches the alley and allows her lungs to breathe properly. The air is so cold it hurts to breathe. Snow falls gently around her, and she looks up to see Eli near the edge of the roof.
Rowan feels her stomach drop out from underneath her. She’s seen this happen before, and Eli could be seriously hurt if she falls. On the roof, Eli attempts to regain her balance, teetering on the edge. Rowan sees Eli give up. It’s a conscious choice, leaning back into the fall. Letting gravity pull her down.
Terrified, Rowan dives to catch her with outstretched arms. Eli crashes into Rowan and the impact slams both of them to the ground. Rowan’s face presses into the dirt, chest twinging painfully as the air is knocked out of her lungs. She’s alive. Eli’s alive. They’re not dead yet.
Eli rolls off of Rowan and promptly curls up into the fetal position. Rowan sits up and looks over Eli’s injuries, healing what she can and bandaging what she can’t. Eli is unresponsive.
She is quiet and blank and Rowan is kneeling in a dirty alleyway scared out of her mind. Rowan’s hands shake, but her voice is steady as she talks to Eli. She places a hand on Eli’s shoulder in an attempt to ground her. She’s desperately hoping that she won’t make things worse. Rowan’s mind is disjointed, so much so that she ends up talking about Lydia and Mateus.
A part of her hopes that saying their names will make them reappear. Rowan’s talking about Mateus now, saying something about how he promised that he’d come back. Eli’s body goes stiff, and she robotically gets up off the ground to stand protectively in front of Rowan.
With a jolt, she realizes that someone is approaching. Heavy footsteps draw close as Rowan brushes the dirt from her hands and stands. Her eyes meet the stranger’s and Rowan goes cold.
He’s got more scars than she’s seen, but she would recognize him anywhere. Sevrim Brom stands before her, and she knows that he’s heard her say Mateus’ name. Rowan wonders if he’s come to kill her for speaking of Mateus. She would be so easy for this man to kill.
Eli is poised to defend them, but Rowan marches forward and points an accusatory finger at Sevrim.
“I know who you are and what you’ve done” she says, venom dripping from her words. Rowan is terrified and horrified and angry because how DARE Mateus compare her to this man and mean it kindly.
The worst part is that he’s right. She’s yet to make his choice, but eventually she will stand in front of Lydia Merian and she will be forced to choose. The universe, or Lydia. The world, or the person she grew up with with. The people, or her best friend.
Either way, Rowan will fail to protect someone. And it has to be her. She can’t let anyone else live with the weight of that decision.
She just prays that she’ll choose correctly.
Felspear’s Graveyard
The graveyard stretches out in front of Rowan, headstones jutting out from beneath like broken teeth. Michael, the groundskeeper walks behind Rowan, and she’s suddenly frozen in place. Ollie stops mid-snarl as Michael walks around to face Rowan.
“Well, well, well. What a coincidence to meet you here.” Michael speaks with a voice that isn’t his, and Rowan realizes that this is not the Micheal she knows.
“Who are you?” Rowan says, holding back a shudder as Micheal smiles cruelly. The illusion twists and bends, shattering into uneven shards. Lydia stands before Rowan instead, revealing herself by tossing away her disguise. Her cloak covers her right arm, and her priestess garb is stained and torn. Her face is twisted into a devious grin.
Rowan chokes on her words, managing to let an “You’re ok! You’re safe!” escape her lungs.
“Always the optimist.” Lydia’s face darkens, observing Rowan with sharp eyes.
“Someone’s got to be.” Rowan replies, still paralyzed in place.
“That’s one of the things I always hated about you. You’re always so optimistic, it’s... almost blinding.” Lydia sighs, stepping closer to Rowan.
Rowan’s smile drops. When she speaks again, her voice shakes.
“What? You hate me?”
“You’re always so happy, and bright, and optimistic, and it blinds you from how fucked this world can be.” Rowan attempts to speak, but Lydia reaches out a hand and squeezes. Rowan’s chest twinges painfully as the spell’s grip coils tighter around her.
“If somehow, you just--no, no matter. Your new friends have made a bit of a hurdle for us. Some of you are trying to cause a bit of a wave. But we’ll see to it that it doesn’t happen.” Lydia raises her hand, holding a graveyard shovel above Rowan’s head.
“Lydia, please listen. You’re my best friend, you should know me better than anyone else. If I’m blind, it’s because I haven’t gotten a chance to see the world.” Rowan stumbles over her words, wincing as the spell constricts further.
“If you hate me, then show me how to be better. Teach me what I should be doing instead. I promise I’ll listen and try my best to correct what I’m doing wrong.” Rowan pleads with Lydia, her voice cutting off as the spell presses against her windpipe.
Lydia smirks, slamming the shovel into Rowan’s temple. Rowan meets Lydia’s eyes, and hears a distant crunch. Her ears ring, and she feels something warm drip down her cheek. Rowan’s vision begins to blur and darken, her head spinning wildly as Lydia drops the shovel and gently places her hands on Rowan’s head.
Everything goes dark.
Rowan wakes up in the dark, surrounded by iron bars in a claustrophobic cage. Surrounded by people she doesn’t know, wondering what happened to her. If her new friends will find her in time.
Rowan finds that she has plenty of time to puzzle over why she can’t recall the last several hours. Her head throbs, and she decides it’s not worth thinking about anyways. Surely it wasn’t too important.
What Was Left of Caviri
I miss Dria. I wished I could’ve done something to save her, or find her sooner to put her out of her misery.
I knew she was alive, but I never thought that she would’ve been corrupted into whatever that creature was. I had hoped to find her, to reconnect & bring her home. Instead she hunted us down & tried to eat us. She ripped Trixie apart with one blow. I wouldn’t even have recognized her if I hadn’t seen her priestess necklace. That necklace is the only thing I have left of her now.
I suppose I should be happy. One more familial attachment is gone, & now only Virren is left. One more outside attachment that I can't save. I miss how he used to be. What I used to mean to him, who he used to be. I love him for what he was to me. I wish that Virren could've stayed longer, but I understand why he didn't. He's frailer than he used to be, and his mind has been scattered for years. I'm almost grateful that my mother wasn't around to see him like this. There's a smaller, crueler part of me that wishes she could see the damage that her death dealt him.
There is blood on my hands as I write. I am still adjusting to my companions, who prefer to kill any enemies we come across. I haven't killed anyone, not with a weapon, or my hands. There is still time, for that to happen. For me to decide to take life instead of giving it. I have my companions for that. Why face that moral dilemma when they are so eager to carry out justice themselves?
My companions are unlike anyone else I have met. They are playful one moment, suspicious the next. Engaging with them makes my head spin, in a painfully comforting way. Claire is sweet when she allows herself to be, sharpening her edges to aid her survival. Sometimes it feels like she's in a world of her own. Eli is kind, and it makes my lungs ache. She offered me a hug, after Dria. I can't recall the last time someone asked. She has been so gentle with me, but it will not last. It cannot, after what I told her. She is wary of me now, because I know more than I should. I know more than I told, but not all of my knowledge is mine to share. Gerath (and Mateus) have both become increasingly dangerous. They remind me of a snake, coiled and poised to strike unsuspecting prey. Mateus has been switching more frequently, and I worry that it may be my fault.
I think most of this is my fault. Deverim, Jameson, Alexandria, everyone else who's been caught in the crossfire. It all started with me, even before I met the party. I didn't remember it before I unspelled myself, but one of the masked figures took my blood with a magic dagger. I don't know what it did, or why they needed my blood. I'm afraid that I'll drag everyone else into whatever Lydia has planned. It makes me wonder if she had wanted to include me, if she had ever second-guessed leaving me behind. Even now, I would still go with her if she would let me. Especially if it would save my companions from following the same destructive path she seems to be traveling.
I think the worst part of remembering is knowing I can't save Lydia. I can only love her. I can't transform her, or fix her, and I can only heal if she'll let me. I love her and somehow it doesn't matter because she doesn't know. She's cold and untouchable and I am hopelessly in love with the best friend I thought I had. Mateus understands better than anyone else.
I don't know how to stop loving her and it is killing me. I don't think I can stop loving her, not even if I wanted to.
The Aftermath of Everess’ Banquet
Lady Everess is alive. Everyone else is alive. I have to keep reminding myself that they’re still alive. That we still have a chance, even if we’re considered traitors of Estovia.
So much has happened. The banquet went terribly, but we managed to save Everess & escape on the Leviathan. Thank the goddess that Kestis decided to trust me, especially with everything that has transpired with Kara.
And Lydia. She’s alive. She confronted me in the graveyard, where she knew I’d visit. She talked to me & stole my memories, placed me under a Geas spell. What has happened to her? How long has she been planning all this, & who has she allied herself with? Why didn’t she bring me along? Does she even consider me a friend anymore? What did I do to make her leave me?
…I’ll send her a message once I get some rest. I’ve got to message Marcus first, let him know what’s happening. Let him know what I’ve discovered, & hope that he still trusts me. But after Marcus, I’ll message Lydia. I’m not expecting a response, but I’m going to try.
I told my companions & the crew most of what happened. Everyone has been surprisingly kind, but I wonder how long it will take for people to start avoiding me.
Kestis has offered me a spot on the Leviathan, as I have apparently impressed him. I'm wary, but he has been remarkably kind towards me & my companions.
He asked me why I stayed with the group, why I hadn’t left them behind. Honestly, I’m unsure. The best way I can describe it is that they feel important, like I want to keep them safe. Claire reminds me of a younger version of Lydia, & she is so confident in herself. I admire her greatly. Gareth is complicated, but I think we understand each other. We’ve both been hurt by a close companion, & we’d do just about anything to turn back the clock. Eli is fiercely protective of all of us. She hates talking about feelings, or her past, or her ex-wife. She was the one to find me in the bandit camp, & she trusted me enough to go through with the anti-assassination plan. Eli is a fighter, through & through.
If anyone in our group could understand what I know, she would. I wish I could tell her everything.
The First Person Rowan Allowed Herself To Love
Priestesses of the Infallible Goddess aren’t meant to love. They’re made to serve Estovia, to serve the Church. They’re made to be adored, meant to be loved only from afar. Marriage is simply a convenient ritual that placates the Estonian people. An escape for those who wish to see beyond the gates of the Church. Afterall, a goddess’ chosen cannot belong to anyone else.
Rowan saw what love did to people. Love is pain and suffering, beauty and perfection, all in one. It is cursed to always be a double-edged blade. And yet, Rowan couldn’t stop herself from falling.
Her heart became a graveyard, filled with the headstones of people who didn’t (couldn’t) love her back. Not in the way she wanted. Rowan swallowed her feelings before she could choke on them, and chose to focus on other things.
Rowan was taught to soothe, to rebuild people that the world had torn apart. She was taught to heal, and nothing more. Healing was the extent of her usefulness to Estovia. Finding someone to love was the opposite of useful.
So when Rowan fell in love with one of her closest friends, she stayed quiet. Although she never voiced her affection, Rowan would’ve done anything for her. Rowan would’ve cut out her own heart and handed it to the girl, if she had asked. Perhaps she knew, but it was possible that she never detected Rowan’s feelings for her.
Rowan didn’t mind. She was content to grow closer to the girl she loved, and decided that it wasn’t worth risking their friendship over a crush. Rowan stayed quiet for years, and no one suspected her of falling in love with her best friend. And when she finally did feel ready to confess her feelings, the girl she loved disappeared.
So Rowan went looking for her, found her, and then lost sight of her again. Rowan was utterly in love with Lydia Merian, and then she wasn’t. She couldn’t be, not after realizing that she didn’t know her. It hurt to think about what could’ve been between them.
Lydia Merian was the first friend Rowan had ever made, and became the first girl to break her heart. The worst part, is that Rowan wanted so badly to listen to every terrible thing Lydia had done and choose to love her anyway. Instead Lydia had chosen to disappear, while Rowan was left with blood in her mouth and memories on her lips.
It was expected, but it hurt. Being left behind always hurt.
Profiling
Marcus: He's like a father to me. Not that he would ever see me as his own blood, but he's who I wish Virren could be for me. We even have a special watch that we communicate with, and he always listens to me. He's the first person who actually cared about what I thought (besides Lydia of course).
Kara: I've not known her for long, but she is precious to me. She grew up in war, and yet she still manages to have faith in those around her. Kara sees the good in people so easily, and I envy her for her skill. When Kestis tried to kill her, I compromised myself. As much as I hate to admit it, Kara feels like home to me. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her too.
Armin: A wonderful tavern owner, who seems to have been cursed to be a bear. He's a brilliant inventor, and apparently he used to be an adventurer too. Maybe I can ask him for adventuring advice?
Claire: Very fierce, but sensitive. I do like her, but I know the path that self-sacrificial adventurers take. She's already gone that route with Kestis. All I can do is offer her support, and hope she takes it. I'm worried for her and her future. One day, I might not be there to heal her, or revive her, and she can't die yet. She's got a part to play in the universe, and I think I'll always admire her spirit (even if it does get her into trouble).
Lady Eli: Interactions between us have been memorable to say the least, and I'm pretty sure she likes me. I want to reach out to her, but I fear she'll only push me away. She's a formidable fighter, and seems to have more experience with nobility than I have. Lady Eli's an important ally, and a deadly enemy. I saw her fighting potential when she killed me (in a dream?), and I hope I never have to go against her. Lady Eli is less impulsive and more levelheaded than the rest of the group. I should try and act more like her. Maybe we'd get along better if I could quit being so high-strung?
Gareth: Something's wrong with his memory. Every time I interact with him, it's like someone took him apart and scattered his memories in the process. Don't get me wrong, he's a wonderfully talented bard. I love when he plays music. He jokes around a bit, but I can tell that he has a gift when it comes to the arts. I will say that something feels terribly off around him, like he was cursed, or put under some kind of spell to forget things. I've got to keep an eye on him, to make sure he's safe. I'd feel guilty if someone hurt him and I wasn't there to stop it.
EB (Eldritch Bestie): EB appears to us in my image, since I (unintentionally) gave them a voice by directly communicating with them?? Not sure what their role to play is, and I'm wary about what EB has told us is approaching. EB wants us to stop some kind of apocalypse from happening, but I'm unsure that we'll be able to pull it off. I need to do more research, to see if it's even possible.
Miranda: She definitely has confidence issues. Whether she's overconfident or pretends to be, I'm not sure. For what it's worth, Miranda does seem to have a sweet spot for me (Does she like me?? Has she been taking interest & I just haven't noticed??). She could've blown Kara's cover immediately, but she chose not to. I'm not quite sure what to think of her, as she seems to exaggerate her personality to intimidate people. I should spend some time getting acquainted with her on the Leviathan.
Kestis: He's a self-made pirate, and a dangerous person. Kara had a huge bounty, and he was willing to sell out his own blood for the money. I respect him, but I don't know if I can trust him yet. He'd stab me in the back without a second thought, and he's powerful enough to get away with it. I would prefer to keep Kara and everyone else safe. However, he's taken an interest in some of the party members so I doubt he'll leave us alone. He asked me why I stayed with the party, & wasn't sure how to answer. I didn't want to tell him that these people feel like home to me, but he offered me a contract on the Leviathan. He's noticed me, & I partly wish he hadn't. I've caught his interest, & I know he'll be closely watching everything I do.
Alexandria’s Goodbye
Sitting on the beach is Dria (Alexandria). She turns to look at Rowan, and she smiles. It’s a bittersweet expression, laced with sadness and grief.
She pats the ground next to her, and says “Rowan, will you you sit with me? Just—just for a moment? We don’t—we don’t have to talk. Let’s just watch this together. Before I go, let us share a sunset.”
And Rowan sits down beside her, watching the tide pull further and further away as the water rolls gently onto the shore. And she watches as the sun dips lower and lower, further behind the sea. And then— with the final sliver of sunlight gone, so is Dria. She touches Rowan lightly on the shoulder before stealing away to join her adventuring party. Rowan watches Dria leave, and she wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to keep her heart from breaking.
Rowan lays down on the beach & stays there for hours, willing Dria to come back. Hoping that her sister will return. If not for her, for their father’s sake.
Rowan spends the night by the water’s edge, drifting in and out of sleep. She wakes in time to watch the sunrise, and sends a prayer to the Infallible Goddess to keep Dria safe during her travels.
That was the last time Rowan saw Dria.
The Importance of Immortalization
Rowan had always been a sucker for stories. Her father was an Archivist, so perhaps her love for words was genetic. To Rowan, writing was as natural as breathing. She would spend days at a time in the Church's library, hunched over paper. Her fingers were perpetually stained with ink, her hands cramped from flying across paper. She wrote to reminder herself of who she was, and to preserve who she had been.
Over the years, Rowan continued to write. She no longer wrote fairytales or myths, but she still found the time to spill her soul across the pages of her journal. It had been a gift from a dear friend, and the Church had graciously allowed her to keep it.
The journal was Rowan's first worldly possession. She had received it on her eighteenth birthday, and kept it on her person ever since. It was comforting to have something that was purely hers. It took her weeks to use it, to actually find something important enough to record. Rowan searched feverishly for something worthy of recording, and she found it in the people around her.
Rowan found it easier to write when she focused on people she cared for, and so many of the girls made it into Rowan's book. Her book filled up with entries such as: a favorite prayer, a recipe for the best elderflower muffins, and a scale recently learnt on a lute. The girls came to confide in Rowan, and in turn she wrote about them.
The girls all desperately wanted to make something great of themselves, and Rowan wrote for them because she could immortalize them. Rowan could look back and remember Brigid's weaving skill, or Aquilla's love of birds, even after they had left her. It eased the raw feeling of abandonment, but it couldn't stop her from grieving.
Every few months, Rowan would hear that a priestess had died. Mostly the ones that went adventuring, or on mission trips. It was inevitable. Besides, it was much worse if a priestess was declared missing in action. It was harder to grieve without a body to bury, and there was no closure in knowing how they'd met their end. If a priestess was reported missing, it often meant that her traveling companions were missing as well.
When Dria was reported missing, Rowan went numb. Lydia was the one who found her out by the lake, tearstained letter in hand. Lydia gave her a bitter smile, and led Rowan back to the safety of the Church, cursing the Goddess under her breath. It was Lydia who went with Rowan to the funeral. Lydia was the one who sheltered Rowan from a distraught Lorena, pulling her away so that she wouldn't hear how Lorena wished that Rowan had died instead of Alexandria. It hurt, but Rowan understood.
That night, Rowan pleaded with the Goddess to trade Dria's life for hers. She prayed until her voice gave out, but there was no response. No special sign, no voice from the heavens, nothing at all. The Goddess simply did not answer.
Maybe if Rowan had been a stronger believer or a full-fledged priestess, her Goddess would've at least acknowledged her. But Rowan was eighteen, and all she could do was carry Dria's memory with her. She wrote down what she remembered, exactly how she thought Dria would've liked to be written. Rowan did what she could, and then she laid Alexandria's memory to rest.
Rowan still writes in her book. There's a page at the back, with names of all the priestesses that've gone missing in her lifetime. Dria's name is somewhere in the third column. And while Rowan is sad, she's hopeful that she might see Dria again.
Because Dria isn't dead. She's alive, somewhere in the world. It's only a matter of time before Rowan can find her.
Frogs & Friendship
Church bells sound throughout the halls, and doors begin fly open as young girls burst out of their classrooms. Free of chores and lessons for the day, they gather under trees outside the Church building. A young Rowan is pulled along by a curly-haired human girl, the two giggling as the Matron shooed them out the front doors.
The pair arrive at the lake together, hand in hand. Their boots slip in the wet mud, and Rowan quickly grabs onto Lydia’s arm to stabilize herself. Lydia tosses her head towards the sky and laughs, watching as a crow flies overhead. Rowan pulls Lydia in for a side hug, and releases her when she hears the sound of a frog croaking in the weeds.
The girls look at each other with sly grins, and Lydia moves away from Rowan towards the frog. She moves silently, reaching out her hand and snatching the frog out of its hiding place. The frog gives a strangled croak, and Rowan laughs in delight as Lydia returns to her.
She’s holding the frog tightly, giving it no room to squirm out of her hands. It attempts to escape, and then goes limp, exhausted by the futile attempt. Rowan lets out a worried hum, her fingers brushing over the frog’s throat to make sure it’s still alive. She feels the beating of its heart, and watches as Lydia stuffs the frog into her pocket.
The girls spend the afternoon catching frogs, hiding them in the pockets of their uniforms. Once, Lydia approaches Rowan with a frog hanging limply in her cupped hands, her face stormy.
“They die so easily. I didn’t mean to, it just made a crunch when I grabbed it.” Lydia’s voice is quiet and her eyes narrow in dissatisfaction.
She holds the dead frog out to Rowan. “Fix it, will you?”
Rowan nods in assent, taking the frog and whispering a spell, watching as it slowly twitches back to life. Lydia’s dark look recedes, and she holds out her hands for the frog. Rowan pets its head and carefully returns it to Lydia. Lydia gives Rowan a smile and tosses the frog back into the pond with a splash.
“You’re getting better by the day, Rowan. I bet you’ll be able to reanimate a person by the end of this summer.” Lydia wipes her hands on her dress and plops down underneath a willow tree.
Rowan’s gaze dips downward and she sits down beside Lydia. “You think so? What if I mess up?”
Lydia sighs, exasperated. “But you WON’T. It comes naturally to you, and you’ve never mucked it up before.”
Rowan gives Lydia a hopeful look. “I suppose you’re right. You’ve never been wrong before.”
“Exactly.” Lydia stands up and extends her hand for Rowan to take.
Rowan lets Lydia pull her up, and they head back to the church.
Lydia stops for a moment, and stares up at the Church’s steeple. She pulls Rowan to a stop and turns to her.
“Rowan,” Lydia says, “Why don’t you speak to the adults here?”
Rowan blinks, surprised.
Lydia lets go of her, placing a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. "You only talk to the girls and me.”
Rowan squirms out of her grasp, fidgeting uncomfortably. “The girls are nice. Adults aren’t.”
Lydia tilts her head quizzically. “Family again?”
A shadow passes across Rowan’s face. She nods.
“If I ever meet your family, I am going to rip them to shreds. Starting with your mother.” Lydia’s voice drops down to a low growl.
Rowan shakes her head, smiling. “Virren’s not that bad. Kinda screwy, but harmless. And Dria gets it worse from Mom cause she’s older. I’m the lucky one.”
Lydia pulls Rowan into a quick hug. “Say something to the adults, okay? The Matron said they’re sending girls away soon, and I want us to stay here together.”
“I promise.” Rowan untangles herself from Lydia’s embrace and links pinky fingers with her.
Lydia grins and the girls continue their walk back to the Church. A series of croaks emanate from their pockets, and the two quicken their strides as they reach the front steps. Lydia and Rowan wave at their sisters, trading remarks about the weather as they pass through the Church doors.
Rowan makes a point to greet the Church Matron, who smiles widely in response. She is surprised by Rowan’s sudden willingness to speak to her, and returns the greeting as the girls head off to their dormitory.
Rowan and Lydia gleefully shut the door to their room, and begin emptying frogs into a glass terrarium. The frogs seem content with their new home, and settle down into the tank. Lydia gestures for Rowan to sit down on the bed, and the girls spend the night observing the frogs.
Lydia narrates while Rowan writes, and they’re happy. And if Rowan looks at Lydia for a moment too long, no one else is there to witness it.
There is a certain kind of comfort that only those we love can give us. Rowan reaches out to hold Lydia’s hand for that comfort, and it feels like a prayer for which no words can describe. A declaration of faith and trust, if you will.
For even if Rowan never truly placed her trust in the Goddess, or the Church, or her country, she trusted Lydia with her entire being.
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