Deathless Reign: Ch. 15

Atop the ridge, with the mists not as strong as they are, thick pillars of smoke plumes rose to the heavens not far south of where they are. Izora's thoughts were put to a halt and she could swear her heartbeat skipped a beat at the sight.

"They burn wood fit for a small city, it's how I found them in the first place."

Izora didn't let him finish his sentence as she abound the slope with barely restrained glee. Her feet stumbled after the other as the downward slope gave her speed and ill-advised unsteadiness, falling and sliding in the dirt as she reached flat ground in record time.

"Mother! Mother!" she shouted. The people all looked at the Baroness' daughter, in her mud-spattered attire and ridiculous descent from the hill. They had grown so accustomed to any loud noises meant trouble that they instantly bore arms, ready for any threat to come out bursting from the trees.

"Izora what is it? is something wrong?" Concern flooded her mother's face.

Izora cursed her expedited breathe to unable to form coherent words.

"The-the....... *gasp*...Order......*gasp*...found.... Knights...*gasp*," she wheezed, bending over.

"What? Just take a moment to catch your breath child."

The wait was killing her, to tell them the news they so wanted to hear with her own lips. Even her own body wanted to tell them, her finger pointing towards direction repeatedly but they might as well be getting directions from a fumbling idiot. All eyes were on her as her breathe slowly returned.

"We found them," she finally said in a full sentence, pointing atop the hill she raced from. "Atop the ridge, look for the smoke."

"Sergeant,"

"Aye milady,"

As they all looked in anticipation as the Sergeant went over the top of the hill.

He nodded and with a booming voice that used to command warriors to battle, repeated Izora's words, "WE FOUND THEM!"

A moment of stunned silence. The words were like sand cast into water, muddling and drifting at first until finally settling at the bottom, solid and clear.

And then, raucous jubilation.

The entire caravan gave way to joyous celebration. Brothers-at-arms raised their swords in cheer. Mothers hugged their children. And the devout broke down in ecstatic prostration. Izora watched form the corner, eyes never leaving her mother.

She cut above the din, calling attention to her words. They were on the last leg of their arduous exodus. Tasks were given and prepared for, she didn't want to suffer anymore loses and captivated the people with her command. Supplies to secure and wood to repair, patrols needed to be set and scouts to survey the lay of the land. With renewed morale and vigor, the wagon train set about their work, knowing their fulfilment of their salvation is close at hand.

With everyone occupied with a task, Lady Sybilla watched it all for a little bit, unheeding of her daughter who watched her in turn. Without much ado, the Baroness went behind the concealed area of their own wagon.

Izora followed not long after and turned the wagon's corner to see her mother leaning against the wooden paneling, mouth clasped tightly with her hand, shoulders hunched over and suffered quaking tremors as tears flowed freely from her eyes. Muffled whimpers were lost to the general hubbub of the caravan and her bawled eyes an incompatible sight to the well-known image of the indomitable Baroness of Silverwell.

Izora paced towards her and her presence was made known to Lady Sibylla.

"I-Izora? I-I didn't hear you. Is something the matter? I-I-I was just...uhm.... prepping our things...some dust got caught...and-and....," Lady Sibylla was a stuttering mess.

Izora suffered no hesitation, no reluctance as she wrapped her arms around her mother and embraced her tightly as she could.

"You are so, so tired," Izora hugged her mother as tightly as she could, remembering a time from all those years ago when she had been little more than a toddler of five when they played a game of who hugged the tightest, her then little chubby arms was a thing her more adored the most, "Thank you. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have made it this far Mother."

"I love you, Mother."

"I love you too dear," Lady Sibylla replied or something to that affect for the words became warbled as the Baroness of Silverwell bawled her tired heart in tears and snot unto her only child's shoulders. Izora couldn't help but smile endearingly at the sight. She would soon tease about this soon but relished the moment for now.

Their woes are aplenty still.

But for these little moments of joy, these seemingly trivial light amidst encroaching darkness, are what truly makes life worth living for.