1875-10-09: Goodbye
Goodbye
Summary: Ivo and his daughter say goodbye to her mother.
Date: 1875-10-09
Related: I Imagine You Have Questions
NPCs: A baby, and a river.
Players:
Ivo  

Shortly after breakfast the Thornsmen started to break down the camp. With nothing to do and instructions to take things easy still Ivo decided to go pay his respects to the Falrane, and took his new daughter to go say goodbye to her mother. With the infant still swaddled in Adriono’s cloak he pauses at the bankside, glancing around as he takes in the location of such a Tirth-shattering battle mere hours before. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he’s not sure he’d believe they’d been a battle her so recently, the only sign being a few river stones on the shire, and the wrecked remains of the barge. There was, however, no sign of the poor bargemaster.

“Hello,” he mutters, feeling somewhat absurd about taking to a river. Sitting down on a bolder he sets the child down beside him for a moment while he strips off before removing her from the cloak and walking the last few paces to the water’s edge. “We’ll be leaving soon,” he notes as he first steps into the frigid water. Advancing slowly he finds himself not feeling the cold, instead filling with a sense of warmth, and using his inherent magics to sense the lay of the pebbles and rocks on the river bed.

Keeping out of the main flow he wades out until the water is lapping his chest, and which point he gently lays the baby in the water, still cradled in his arms so she’ll neither float off nor drown. “My uncle has called her Flovios,” he states, “which he tells me is River in your tongue. As I said though, we’re leaving soon, and I thought she should meet you first.” He’s still feeling faintly absurd, but he continues nonetheless. “My name is Ivo, my uncle who I think you spoke with is Adriono. We live on another river, and I’m now told that it has a spirit too, that her name is Fiorre, just as yours is most likely Falrane. That’s what I’ll call you, if she asks, Falrane. It’s a nice name. I’ll introduce her to Fiorre too, when I work out how.”

He stands there for a minute or two, uncertain if he should do anything more, and he’s just starting to consider turning back when he feels those caressing hands over the curse-mark on his back. <It’s beautiful,> he hears that voice whisper in his ear, <it saddens me that you can’t see it.> There’s a hint of movement in the water and for a moment he’s sure there’s a woman there, with long flowing blue hair, but she’s gone as soon as he notices. <She’s your daughter,> the words say quietly, as if imparting important information he should listen to, <as a half-mortal, she must live a full life with you in your world, before she can join me in mine. You should take her back to shore now though for she will feel the cold, and soon, so will you. Thank you though, for bringing her to me before you leave. I will miss her when you are gone.>

And then she was gone. He stood there for a few more moments, just incase, but he was starting to feel the cold seeping past whatever protection she had lent him. Turning to wade back to the bank he dried them both off quickly and wrapped her once more in the black velvet cloak. Pulling his clothes and boots back on as quickly as he can he walks back towards the final remains of the camp to be met by a bounding Tethys who was eager to say good morning to the pair of them and then led them back to where the others were about ready to depart.

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