Drawing the curtains

[Maeve]

Although her relationship with the captain of the guards had been a short, mistrustful, and somewhat awkward one, tinted with unexpectedness and drastic twirls of emotions, she nonetheless tossed him a small thankful smile as he took his leave. To think that merely an hour ago she had fallen at his feet, and he had held a sword at her throat, and she had battled with him physically and nearly broken down in his arms. It all seemed so very remote right now. But even if they were both still suspicious of the other, it was because of him if she had reunited with Caipra. And it was also because of him if she wasn’t behind bars at the moment. He had been indulgent, calm and discreet throughout the whole situation, and she owed him a lot for that. Thus, as she watched his silhouette disappear around the corner, she found herself hoping to see him again to have the chance to thank him for real. Out loud. And somehow, she knew that that chance would present itself because her instincts told her she had not seen the last of him yet…

Quietly walking alongside Caipra as she lead the way down the lively lane, her eyes aimlessly went waltzing around on their surroundings. The streets were getting pretty crowded now, with stalls and shops unfolding their many activities wherever they stepped and turned. So many people. So many faces. Voices. Colours. Smells. She could feel the vibes of civilization echoing everywhere around her and it once again sent a strange chill down her spine. Because even after all that had happened in the last hour, everything still felt overwhelming to her. Almost unreal. And with the intensifying dynamism in the city, she was only now realizing just how much adjusting her senses still needed to get.

After all, back in the realm, the blinding, gleaming reflection of the sea had been her one and only view, the rhythmical rumble of ocean waves her one and only melody, and the salted, unpredictable breezes of the beach her only type of weather. But now, with the real world so vibrantly alive before her, it was as if her irises needed to reacquaint themselves with all the vivifying colours she had been unable to gaze upon for so long, as if her ears needed to get attuned again to the multiple sounds she had forgotten, as if the very pores of her skin needed to adjust to a new climate.

It was profoundly destabilizing.

Everything was different from the golden prison she had been confined into. Everything. And there was this frustrating feeling of slow motion persisting in her head, as if she was moving through water, constantly fighting against the slight resistance of the flow. And she found the weird sensation to be unbearably annoying. But she did her best not to let it show. A big fuss had already been made about her abrupt and unexpected return, there was no need to make another one over a little cluster head.

Hence, shrugging off the stiffing heaviness as best as she could, she glanced at the many different faces in the busy crowd to distract herself. Everybody was out and about, tending to their daily routines without a care in the world. Selling. Buying. Bargaining. Cleaning. Laughing. And she couldn’t help but feel like an outcast, like someone who simply didn’t fit into this neat urban world, like someone who had the potential of ruining its peace and quiet. And right then, as if to emphasize her inner marginality even more, she realized she was barefoot. And it took her a couple of seconds to remember that her boots were still back in the realm, waiting by the door of her small bedroom, in the little house where Dim-Dim was definitely up by now, probably wondering where she was.

Or perhaps he knew what had happened?

She hoped so.

Suddenly, racing after his sister, a little boy ran past her, the soft texture of his clothes swiftly brushing against her leg.

Her dark brown eyes followed them amusingly, but just as she was about to smile at their playful figures, a sharp wave of dizziness washed over her. And it was so strong it forced her to stop walking on the spot. And then everything began to spin around her. And she tried to blink away the nasty feeling but before her attempts could be crowned with any success, something much more powerful than vertigo struck down on her.

A long broken link. Suddenly reconnecting.

A familiar presence, seeping back into her mind. Into her heart. Into her entire being. A brave, gentle warmth, spreading inside her chest. A beloved essence she had longed to feel for so long.

“Dermott…” She gasped. Her breathing going clipped.

It was him. He was here. So very close to her. Getting nearer and nearer by the second.

And the link between them was magnifying at the speed of sound. And she was having a hard time keeping up. A hard time understanding what was happening. And the spinning sensation was too much for her to bear. And before she could stumble down under the blow, emotionally unable to take it, she leaned against the nearest banister for support. And she felt like she was going to faint. But she fought off the whirling feeling tooth and nail.

And as a wild hope consumed her, her eyes rose up to the sky, searching for a graceful pair of wings.

[Dermott]

Continuing from the last post of this tread
distandlands.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=outside&action=display&thread=462


Since the Nomad docked in Basra, Dermott spent a lot of time wandering above its skies, whose distance were reduced with the air’s complicity, which made the city seem smaller than it really was. It didn’t usually took him too long to go back and forth from the market to the port, from the palace to the tavern. But right now, even if he was flying at the fastest speed, the route appeared never-ending.

Attracted like a magnet towards the place where the beloved, long soughed presence was supposed to be, despite his impatience, he was stuck in a sort of blurred perception which made him feel the world around him in a muffled, rarefied slow motion. As if… the person with whom he had just reconnected was in a daze, somehow tired and drained.

He was feeling her dizziness, and anticipation, and longing. And as the bond grew stronger at every mile he covered, concern was starting to be added to his eagerness.

He looked below, as the thick mud walls of the traditional Arabic houses were surpassed one by one, almost hypnotized by all those white terraces identical to one another.

And even when he started to plane to approach the old lady and the red haired girl standing against a big banister, he was still acting automatically, repeating past, familiar gestures and habits. Like flying in circles around the two women heads and screaming out aloud before aiming for a leather glove that wasn’t there anymore.

He landed on the wall beside the railing she was leaning to instead. So near that he could hear her irregular breath and the salty smell of someone who until not long ago had been living near the sea. Then the hawk looked into her eyes and for the first time in over a year he let the sound of his mental voice slip into hers:


“Sister”


It became real.

[Maeve]

A black void was slowly forming around her. She felt as if she was in limbo. As if she was in a dream. She didn’t understand how this could be possible. How it could be true. There was utter chaos inside her head. She couldn’t think straight.

Nothing made sense.

Nothing seemed real.

But her eyes kept scouting the clear blue sky desperately. And she didn’t care if the sun was blinding her, didn’t care if her pupils were burning, or if the people walking past her were throwing curious glances in her direction. She didn’t care if she was on the verge of losing it. She just wanted to see him. Needed to see him. To have proof that she wasn’t imagining it all. That she hadn’t gone mad.

But the vertigo sensation was growing more and more insufferable. She was going to fall apart. And her hands were grasping the banister so tightly her knuckles were turning white. But she forced herself to hold on. Forced herself to keep it together just a little bit longer. Just enough to catch a glimpse of flapping wings.

And she clung to the heart-wrenching hope blazing inside her chest, focalizing all the energies she still had left within herself on her brother’s forthcoming presence. She let the crowd fade away from her senses until the only thing she could perceive was him. His general bafflement, his wild anticipation, his growing concern. She let all of his emotions leach inside her, allowing them to merge with her own confusion and disbelief. And the sensation of his warm essence settling back into every fiber of her being was so intense and powerful that she feared her legs were going to give out from under her at any minute.

God, this had to be real.

It just had to.

And she prayed. She pleaded. She begged. For the madness she was enduring to be real.

And then she saw him.

Circling above her head graciously.

He was hovering closer and closer to where she was tremblingly leaning against the banister. And she could almost hear the wind whistling on his wings. She could almost feel his delicate feathers being ruffled by the morning breeze.

And in a slip of second, he was there. Right in front of her. Only inches away. Close enough to touch. If she just extended her hand.

She locked eyes with him, terrified his image would wither if she didn’t firmly anchor her gaze upon him right away. Terrified he was a mere cruel illusion or some sort of evil trick.

But then his beautiful voice rang inside her mind melodiously.

And everything became officially real. He was there. She wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t mad.

And at that moment she felt like crying. Because everything was simply too much for her to bear. Because there was a limit to what her nerves could endure. A limit to the whirlwind of emotions she could suffer.

And as she battled against the tears blurring her vision, one of her hands shakily released the banister and closed the small distance between them. And she caressed his feathers softly, her fingers rekindling with distant memories. And she reached back to him, with a blind hope piercing her inside out.

*Dermott?*

If she had spoken out loud just then she was almost certain her voice would have broken, because everything was threatening to shatter and crumble inside her. But with her mental voice (and she was stunned at how instinctively she switched to its use considering her mind was a complete mess), she was somehow able to speak more steadily, to have more control over herself. But still, she knew that the strong confusion and bewilderment emanating from her entire being betrayed how emotionally unstable she was.

And as if to illustrate her wrecked state even more, what she said next was a disordered lot of questions, a tangled bundle of queries, tinted with a very fragile composure. *I…I don’t understand…What are you doing here?...How is this possible?*

[Dermott]

Proximity made the feeling of the blending minds stronger. He could feel what she was feeling. A flood of anxiety, tiredness, confusion and pain. His sister was right here, in front of him, after all this time. He wasn’t able to explain it, her existence just popped up out of nowhere and all of a sudden, as if she had never left his mind.


He had so many questions, so many things to tell and talk about, but after an initial moment of disbelieving and overwhelming joy, after the relief, and the gratitude towards whatever happened to bring her there, his rational mind surfaced in the moment of need. It has always been like that. Among the two siblings Maeve was the fierce, impulsive, emotional one, while Dermott, has always been calmer, reflexive, and he had the tendency to be more grounded if required by the situation.


Now, he was perfectly aware that he had to set his curiosity aside because his sister wasn’t in the right state of mind to lead any conversation. She was so drained, and powerless that he feared she could break down at any moment and faint in the street. She needed to be reassured, and above all, she needed to recover her strength. He tried to caress her inner self with the nuance of his voice since he didn’t have fingers and hands.



“Sister mine…. You are…. free..” he pause for a while, every word consolidating her return to the real world more solidly, then added in a gently, warm tone, hoping to envelop her with his caring, and concerned intention “I can’t explain what happened, … I’ve been flying on Basra’s skies’ for almost two days, but I’ve never perceived your presence until….a few minutes ago”

He avoided to mention the crew, since he noticed how much Maeve was surprised to see him here. He deduced she must have been also unaware of the Nomad’s presence in Basra’s port. He didn’t know how long the two sorceress had been together, but it was pretty obvious that Caipra didn’t tell the celt about all of them already be in town. Dermott wondered anxiously if it was just because they lacked the time to talk about it, or if the wise woman thought that Maeve was too sick even for this.

He quizzically exchanged a look with Caipra, an unspoken question lingering among them. Then the old lady smiled him back and he finally felt a bit reassured even if still nervous. They glanced in accord at a stone bench built a couple of meters away from the banister.


And he shift his attention to Maeve again, “ We’ll have all the time in the world to talk “ added the hawk gently, but firmly “but right now I just want you to sit down, and rest”

[Caipra]

Caipra followed every step of the reunion in silence. From the moment Maeve had leaned against a banister until the hawk landed on the wall next to them.
the old lady could only imagine the shock Maeve had suffered when she felt the presence of her brother for the first time after so long. She herself had lost this kind of bond when her husband had disappeared in the Realm of Mist. It felt like a part of yourself was missing. Now that the link was reestablished between the brother and the sister, it was going to take a little time before everything goes back to normal.

Caipra was standing next to the red head, a hand on her shoulder, just in case she would faint. The reunion was so intense and full of emotions that she just didn't dare to interrupt them, But she could also feel the confusion of Dermott, even if he was trying to remain calm, for her sister. When he took a look at her, she answered his silent question by a smile, and then she reported her attention to Maeve, approving Dermott's idea.
"Come on dear, let's sit down a minute." She said out loud.
Not only because she needed it, but also because more and more people were staring at them, wondering what was going on.
She took Meve's arm, and dragged her to the stone bench.

[Mala]

A soul was coming; its presence suddenly echoing in the air around them. It was closing the distance swiftly, its movements being eager, anxious and driven by emotions that seemed to radiate all from the owner's heart. Mala frowned deeply at how this trace stood out between all the others, frowned at how it could catch her attention even if she didn't seem to recognize it.
The ghost's eyes focused on the skies. Her heart told her that this was where it was coming from, her senses told her about its nature. There was so much of a human's soul shining in its core, so much of a soft and slumbering magic hiding in its depths. And yet she knew she had to lift her sight. Because it was not only a human heart she was perceiving, not only the heart of a creature blind to her magic, but one of a being that was connected to this world in more ways than men could ever be. This soul shared the bond that united all living things - the bond that she felt slowly reastablishing as the effects of the ripple were quickly wearing off now. And the more the elements calmed down again, the stronger did she perceive that presence, the better did she see who it belonged to. And then the owner suddenly was there, and it was only now that she realized she had not been the only one staring up to the skies. As a beautiful brown hawk dashed towards the redhead Mala still stood close to, the Roman finally saw the emotions play across the other woman's face. And they suddenly hit her with full force - mixing up with the bird's one as they seemed to melt into one another - mirroring and reflecting what both beings felt deep within.
Suddenly Mala felt like she was standing inmidst a busy crowd, her head was spinning slightly from the magic that surrounded her, and more from all what radiated from the others' hearts. She had to step back a little and draw in air deliberately, as she willed her senses to cope with the intensity of what they received. And then, slowly, the flood ebbed away. As if there was come exchange between the human and the creature, both their souls grew calmer - calm enough for Mala to concentrate on them again.
With wondering eyes she watched the two, saw how this Maeve seemed to be shaken to the core. And yet she also saw how a part of the Celt seemed to have returned to the same - as if a missing part of hers had just been replaced. And it was in this moment that suddenly she realized how similar her trace and the one of the bird were. Like fire and wind they seemed to be different at first sight, and yet deep within they shared something that went far beyond what two creatures could be connected by. Mala knew this kind of bond, had often felt it before.
Had felt it exist between her sons.
But how was this possible she wondered. How could the two be connected in that way? How could a hawk be connected to a human by soul. And by blood?

[Maeve]

She tried to process what Dermott was telling her as best as she could…flying…Basra…two days…sitting down…but his words were ringing in her mind like a bunch of tiny bells, with each jingle swallowing up the next one, leaving her with an echoing muddled symphony to interpret. And as much as she tried to tune everything in with all the concentration she could muster, her head was throbbing, as if it was trapped in a hassle she couldn’t shake out of. And for a moment it felt as if the ground underneath her had disappeared. Her legs had gone dangerously numb and her knees would probably have buckled if Caipra hadn’t grabbed her arm right then to lead her to the nearest stone bench as Dermott strongly advised.

It was too much.

Everything was being pressurized inside her skull. She couldn’t calibrate what she was doing anymore. Her mind was maddeningly spinning on its wheel in every direction all at once, her temples were painfully pounding with every loud beat her heart made to pump the blood in her veins, her brother’s presence was still settling back in after all this time…Everything was happening in her head. Everything. And she couldn’t regulate the rest of her body along with it. She couldn’t even think.

As she sat down, she felt like she was going to explode. Her first and only reflex was to let her elbows rest on her knees and hold her head in her hands, as if to contain everything that was threatening to burst from it. She shut her eyes closed, attempting to ease air normally into her lungs as she pushed away the outside world loudly teeming around her. Right now, the only thing she wanted to do was to shrink into a void. A very black and very silent void. But she knew Caipra and Dermott were watching her closely and she didn’t want to faint. She had come this far without fainting she wouldn’t lose it now. Especially not in the middle of the market place under the gaze of so many citizens.

After a few seconds, when she felt a little bit calmer and when things slowly began operating again in her mind, she let her brother’s previous words seep back in. But before she even had a split of second to brood over them, something snapped inside her.

The crew.

She froze.

If Dermott was in Basra, then so was the crew.

As her heart skipped a painful beat, a violent wave of dizziness washed over her, sending fingertips of panic and fear all over her skin. They were here. Maybe even a few stalls away, striking a deal with a merchant for a cargo delivery for all she knew! And if she could just stand up and take a few steps she’d see them around the corner. She’d see him.

But before her train of thoughts could get into a frenzy, before her heart could explode and before she could lose control, she put everything on hold. Froze everything inside. Because she couldn’t do this right now. She couldn’t let her emotions take the upper hand. She just couldn’t. Not in the state she was in. Or else she would fall apart. That much she knew. Right now, even if it was an impossible task, what she needed to do was keep this new information on the first level, without going deeper in all the bigger issues it was bringing up.

She tried to focus. So the crew was in Basra. Okay. Fine. But they didn’t know she was back. That was in her advantage, right? She could decide when and where she wanted to see them again. She could wait and think about it for a while, at least long enough to pull herself together from this mess. This was the better option. Or so she tried to convince herself as she fought to ignore the tugging need burning inside her chest to run straight to the port right this instant.

She took another deep breath, keeping her eyes tightly closed as she forced every fiber of her being to cool down. And as she was faintly able to detach herself from the intricate web of emotions gnawing at her inside out, she slowly raised her head up. After a moment, eyes riveted on the ground aimlessly, feebly confident that she had bottled up enough fragile feelings to be able to address her brother calmly, she let her mental voice reach him vacantly.

*If you’re here then it means The Nomad is in port.*

It wasn’t even a question. It was a simple statement. Blank and soft. As if she was talking to herself. A statement that inevitably meant she still had a handful of things to face.

[Dermott]

As Caipra was gently helping his sister to cross the street and sit down, Dermott was still entangled in the wave of shared emotions regained after the reconnection. One doesn’t realize how much he misses somebody not until he is gone, but when he’s back, because the hole in our hearts is suddenly filled once again. Loved ones are, or become, part of ourselves, and even if our ways for some reason are parted, we will always miss them, and remember them.


So it took him very little to get used again to Maeve’s familiar energy and mood, as if she never left. And while he could observe her effort to fight against confusion and tiredness, he also noticed her struggle to keep the usual control over her heart, body and mind.


That was his sister, a fierce person who never give up even facing the worst scenarios. And it was not without admiration that he witnessed her while she adopted her usual detached attitude. One moment she was sharing freely and without reservations her inner emotions with him and Caipra, then she suddenly closed up, leaving the both of them out. Dermott felt both sad and relieved. Relieved because If she had been able to adopt her defensive techniques once again, she was surely regaining her strength and starting to feel better. But he was also sad because he never liked the way Maeve always hid her sorrow and worked out things by herself.


Then she suddenly mentioned the crew, in a matter-of-factly, not anymore confused way, and the hawk at that point was a bit taken aback. He had the initial impression Caipra didn’t tell her the Nomad was in port, because from her previous puzzled state of mind she seemed oblivious about it. But maybe he had been wrong, and even if she didn’t say nothing more, he didn’t fail to notice the implied question underneath her words, and the tension in the tone of her voice. So he gladly updated her.


“The ship put into port two days ago.” Confirmed the hawk not without an hint of curiosity. “We barely had the time to visit Caipra and rest a bit, when I felt this incredible storm of energy hitting the city. I was dead worried, and when I’ve recovered from my confusion, I…I felt your presence. For the first time after a whole year”


Dermott wondered how much Caipra told her, because apparently she looked so sure he should obviously had stayed with the Nomad’s crew, whereas after the day of the storm, he took this decision after a lot of pondering. He made up his mind hoping the Captain would have actively searched for his sister rather than sink into his mute mourning. And at the same time, he wanted to be useful, observing and following closely one of the sorceress responsible for the destruction of their native village.


And at the point, realizing for the first time where the stream of his reasoning had lead him, he suddenly felt a thrill of worry and uneasiness all over his feathers.

“Bryn”!!

He had a whole year to check over her and come to the conclusion there was good deep inside her heart. But how will his sister react when she’ll find out that the fury who had put on fire their home had joined the crew and he had befriended her? Will she recognized her after all this time?


Dermott knew this wasn’t the time to flesh out the subject, but he was aware that sooner or later it had to be done. And he suddenly felt glad there was Caipra with them to face this moment.

[Maeve]

With her dark brown eyes anchored down on the ground in front of her, she kept breathing slowly, careful to let air in and out as evenly as possible not to upset the still quick, irregular beats of her heart. She didn’t like feeling like this, so exhausted and sapped and unable to control what was happening. But it was the latter that she hated most, the feeling of powerlessness, and she had felt like this ever since the strange antique magic had woke her up last night and snatched her away from the realm. From then on, she had been on a trip downward. She had been scared, lost, confused, shattered, vulnerable, and right now she felt like she was at the mercy of everything around her, at the mercy of everyone. Since last night, she had lost her bearings, her self-control, her strength, her poise, her calm, and she wanted them back.

And having her brother return to her, so close to her, after so long, his presence comforting and soothing and energizing, was helping just right. She lost herself in his essence, basking in the invigorating pulse of his being. And it once again amazed her how differently they could both handle a situation. He was always so focused and calm and strong, never losing his composure or his temper despite the amount of feelings racing in his heart. He thought before acting, she acted before thinking. It was wise consideration against quick impulsiveness. Both methods had their pros and cons, but she had always admired him for the special way he had of facing and dealing with everything and anything with such inner self-control.

Hence, she focused her attention on him, drawing from his strength and his energy to clear her head and find her inner-balance again. Piece by piece, she could feel what she had lost progressively coming back to her, as well as a refreshing and appeasing warmth spreading inside her chest. And for the first time since she had come back to the real world, despite the sensation of vertigo lying in wait to get her at any second, she almost felt like herself again. With a minimum of control and clarity of mind.

But as much as she tried to convince herself that her brother was the reason for it, she knew deep down that there was another reason as to why she was suddenly trying so very hard (and succeeding, to some extent) to regain her composure and get a good grip on herself. It was the fact that the crew was in the city, and that she could run into them at any moment. She didn’t want them to see her like this. So shaken and vulnerable. That was the last thing she wanted. That’s why she put all her might in drawing her strength from her brother’s inner-force. And it was working.

Her heartbeat steadied itself, barely, but enough to make it stop thumping anxiously in her chest, and her nerves wound down, faintly, but enough to make the knot in her stomach loosen. Quietly, she listened to Dermott as he informed her of the crew’s arrival in Basra two days ago and of his immediate detection of the magic that had brought her here. However, it was another part of his speech that caught her attention. The part where he said the crew had visited Caipra.

Surprised, her head instantly snapped up in the other sorceress’ direction, her eyes searching hers actively. So the wise woman had known all along that the crew was in town! She had known from the beginning! Why hadn’t she told her? Why hadn’t she said anything? To let her have the surprise? Or maybe to protect her? To spare her yet another emotional blow? It was a little late for that now, wasn’t it? She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know whether to be angry at her or thankful. And she wondered which outcome could be worse: being told the crew was in Basra in advance which gave her way to much time to think about it, or coming face to face with them out of the blue when she was still dangerously close to the edge of losing consciousness. She couldn’t make up her mind.

And as she was about to confront Caipra about her little secret and ask her why she had kept it from her, Dermott’s unexpected exclamation stopped her. She turned to him, puzzlement appearing on her features as she wondered why he was suddenly bringing the brunette’s name up out of nowhere. More to the point, the trace of worry in his voice didn’t escape her, which stirred both her curiosity and her concern, and as a confused frown appeared on her brow, she forgot to use her mental voice to address him. “What about her?”

[Dermott]

Maeve’s question caught Dermott so much by surprise that for a moment he felt like he had been smashed with a bucketful of cold water.


He believed he had been pondering about Bryn’s subject all by himself, trying to find out how to address it to his sister later. He didn’t realize she had been able to grab his thoughts, and in such a detailed way. “It must be the sudden reconnection” decided the hawk “it has made the both of us highly sensitive to each other thoughts”.


He looked helplessly at Caipra for a moment, worrying if in Maeve’s state it was the case and the right time to bring up this controversial topic. She was still weak, and confused, and had to face already a lot of things in a short amount of time. But the celtic sorceress eyes' were now totally focused on him, and he knew her too well to not know she wouldn’t give up on it so easily. So he prepared himself to find the words to explain it in the less painful way, when a doubt struck him.

For the second time he had the impression Maeve knew exactly what and about whom he was thinking about. How could it be possible? She had been back only for a few hours – it seemed – and nevertheless she seemed even aware of whom the name Bryn was referred to. The elemental woman joined the crew only after Maeve got trapped into Dim Dim’s dimension, she couldn’t possibly know what happened afterwards…could she?


And at that, he couldn’t help to reply with another question.


“Sister…by any chance… do you really know to whom I was thinking about?”

[Maeve]

The seconds of utter silence that followed her question betrayed right away the astonishment and unsettlement of her brother. Sensing his baffled uneasiness, her frown instinctively deepened and she looked at him closely, wondering what was making him so suddenly uncomfortable about the subject, or rather the person, he himself had brought up. She could tell he was debating with himself, as if searching for the right words to pick, and once again, she wondered what on earth Bryn had to do with any of this.

But when he spoke, answering her question with one of his own, she felt her blood run cold.

She wasn’t supposed to know who Bryn was.
She wasn’t supposed to know anything that had happened to the crew in the last year.

Her heartbeat began to accelerate.

Stomped, she stared back at Dermott, her frown disappearing to give way to sheer fluster. She felt her mind freeze in place for a moment, unable to properly function to come up with a logical explanation that would justify her knowing about Bryn. However, soon enough, her thoughts began to race, quickly matching her heartbeat. Technically, she could know who the brunette was, since it was more than fair to assume that Dim-Dim would have told her he had sent another sorceress to watch over the crew while she was gone, thus, without thinking any further because the seconds were flying by, she chose to tell Dermott just that to cover her tracks before he could connect the dots.

Swallowing carefully, she spoke up, trying to keep her voice even and without any trace of hesitation. “You were thinking about Bryn…Dim-Dim mentioned her to me when he took me to the realm after the storm.”

She was rather satisfied with her answer, but it didn’t change the fact that she had come dangerously close to betraying herself, and she realized that from now on she would need to be extremely cautious about what she said and the questions she asked.
She couldn’t let this happen again. Especially not with him…

[Caipra]

Caipra was listening to the conversation without being able to say anything.
She has felt Dermott's helpless look on her several times, but Maeve didn't give her time to react. Even when she had looked at her after learning the crew was in port, her attention had been quickly diverted by the mention of Bryn's name.

Everything was going too fast.
Yes, she hadn't talked to Maeve about the crew because didn't want to rush things, she said to herself. There was a lot to catch up for the young sorceress and Caipra was trying to handle her carefully. Of course, it was without counting on the cleverness of the red head.
Her reaction to Bryn's name surprised her, though, and the same question than Dermott's one crossed her mind.

For a moment she wondered what Maeve had seen from the realm. How much did she know about the last year? Dim-Dim might have never knew how to escape the Realm, but, for sure, he had found a way to break it in some parts, to create like a window connected to the real world, just like he did once to contact her or the crew.

Maeve answered by a completely different explanation, but even it it was rational, she seemed to be hiding something else.
Another mystery Caipra would try to find out later.
For now, it was time to calm things down and to give some explanations.

“You’re thinking too much, my dear. No, I didn’t tell you that crew was in Basra, but would you have allowed me to lead you to them if you had known it?”

she marked a break before adding with a smile.
“Just go to them. You NEED it. Forget about the rest. As you brother said, you’ll have all the time in the world to talk. For now you need to go back to your family.”

One thing Caipra didn’t say, is that she wanted to move from here. She had noticed that people were looking at them, especially when Dermott and Maeve were talking in their mind, without saying anything loudly. Besides, she could hear more people getting closer to the place, and she didn’t want to be the center of all the attentions.
She stood up, faced Maeve, inviting her to take her hand and said.
“So?”

[Maeve]

When Caipra spoke up, yanking her out of her uncomfortable thoughtful trance, she turned her head to her, and as she gently explained why she hadn’t revealed the whereabouts of the crew, in fear that she would refuse to be lead to them, Maeve could only lower her eyes at the truth behind her words. The wise sorceress had been right. And unfortunately, she still was.

Indeed, now that she knew the crew was in town, only a few minutes away, she wasn’t sure at all if she wanted to come face to face with them yet. She didn’t know if she could take another emotional blow so soon. She feared that it would be the straw breaking the camel’s back, that she would fall apart under the overwhelming emotions that would be set free inside her. And the way Caipra emphasized the fact that they were her family and that she needed them wasn’t helping at all. It made her feel cornered, as if she had no choice.

But she told herself she was just being selfish, because in all honesty, she was dying to see her friends again, dying to just surrender to the messy circumstances. More than anything at the moment she wanted to take the sailors in her arms and share their smiles and laughter and have the feeling that she was finally back home where she belonged, even if she was terrified to face him again. But that was her problem. Not theirs. She had no right to postpone their reunion because of her own muddled inner struggles.

When Caipra stood up and extended her hand for her to take, she made a point of remaining seated and looked up into the other woman’s eyes, raising the arc of her eyebrows slightly at her. “So…” Even if the wise sorceress was right about everything, Maeve’s pride wasn’t going to let her get away that easily. “I still think you should have told me.”

Then, straightening herself a little, she let out a defeated sigh and smiled softly as she shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter…” She threw a sideway glance at Dermott and then looked back up at Caipra. “Two against one. Looks like I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”

[Caipra]

Caipra laughed, still looking at Maeve. She knew that the red-headed always liked to have the last word.
Unfortunately for her, so did the old sorceress.

She dropped her hand and gave a smirk before saying.
"Well, you DO have the choice. After all, you're free to stay here if you want. But I'm going to the tavern anyway, because I'm starving."
She turned around, and looked back just to add.
"I'll say hello to everyone from you."
Then Caipra slowly moved away from Maeve, not without hiding her amusement.