She had seen cities before, but Bryn had never seen anything quite like Evermeet. Small, squat taverns sat in between large buildings held together by magic. One building was twenty times taller than her, and she couldn't even see the top if she bent backwards. It was invigorating and dream-crushing at the same time. Just the kind of place she needed.
The people in said city were about as nice as the atmosphere. Most people ran into her and then ran on, not even mumbling an apology. It was as if even that recognition would be a burden to their apparently busy lives. The change of pace threw her off kilter a bit. And it didn't get better as the day slowly shifted into night. The normally stunning display of oranges and pinks that signaled the end of the day were covered by buildings and smoke, the by product of some spell or another. The result was a dreary mix of brown and grey that honestly made Bryn feel depressed and a tad homesick. But she had gone come to the big city for a reason. And experience, but that was looking less important now. No, now she was focused on two things: getting the information she was looking for, and seeing if any of her friends had made it here. If she could find one of them, maybe she could travel with them for a bit. It would make her feel better after having been away for so long. Something in the back of her mind was itching, telling her that there was no way things were finished, that at very least there had to be others like her & Rockwell.
It took her over a month to finish her search. Over a month of stopping in every arcane store, scouring every library and archive, of visiting and talking to every magic and ritual caster she could find. None of them had what she was looking for. There were a few names she hadn't gone over yet, but her hopes were starting to fall. She looked across the counter and listened to yet another shopkeeper drone on about the period it was from, the fact that she shouldn't have things like this, this and that. It was boring. Bryn interrupted him with a sigh and waved her hand. "Look, can you read it or not? Because if you can't read it and tell me what it is, I'd like to know." The shopkeeper scoffed at her.
"Can I read it? This is older than either of us can imagine, and you ask if I can read it. Do you even know what it is you're holding?"
"I'm pretty sure you just lectured me on it for the past ten minutes. Look, I really want to get something to eat. I'm starving and running out of patience. Can. You. Read. It." A beat, then a sigh.
"No. And I don't think you'll find anyone in this city who can. But you might want to try... Here." He scribbled something onto a piece of paper. When he handed it over, Bryn felt a twinge of recognition, but she couldn't place it exactly. She knew the place written down, but didn't know why she knew it. "There's a guy there who may be of more help. He may not be there, but he shouldn't be hard to find. Only arcane user in that or any other nearby village." Bryn thanked him and left, trying to figure out why the name looked so familiar. It wasn't until she was halfway to the town that it hit her like harder than Rockwell's hammer or Emeire's spells. But she continued on. "Well, this is just going to ruin the surprise now, won't it?"
Bryn hadn't stepped foot into Hartshire since... well, since the incident with the robbers. There was no telling how Aran would react, but Bryn was sure it would be just like old times. He'd be patient, understanding, and she'd just sit there and look as though she had been caught sneaking sweets. Again. It had been a common occurrence when she had lived there. Her hand was poised at the knocker, and although she wanted to just get on with it, something stopped her. Her heart was almost certainly racing around her lungs and through her stomach, doing laps that she had long lost count of. She could have thanked the gods that the papers were in her bag, because her hands were sweating and she could have sworn she saw one shake. The great Bryn Swiftrunner, nervous to meet an old friend. It was almost too good, but she couldn't really appreciate the moment right now, seeing as how she was living it. Before she had a change to act, however, the door swung open and a young lady walked into her. "Oh I'm so sorry, I wasn't... Bryn? Wild Woman Bryn? Well, I'll be! You remember me, right? Little Charissa? Probably not, I was only about seven last you saw me. Oh, I'll let you go, but it's good to see you back!" Her words were a jumbled to Bryn's ears, but Bryn somehow managed to separate them from the noises that she was producing to show that she was indeed listening, and did indeed remember. That's when Charissa decided to do something before Bryn could stop her; she turned back toward the inside and yelled for Aran. "You got a visitor, Ar! Little Bryn's back."
Time seemed to slow down as Bryn watched events unfold. She gave Charissa one last hug and wished her and her brother well (apparently he was off adventuring now), and suddenly copper scales filled her vision. "Bryn. It's been a long time." Everything was the same. It was as if Bryn had been transported back over 10 years to when she was still living with her friend. Before she had gone on grand adventures. Before she found and left her clan again, and certainly before she was the mess she was now. Her feet suddenly became very interesting, and she shifted from one to the other with a nervous energy that seemed unsuited to her.
"Um, hi. I got you something. I hope you like it but I can't find anyone to translate it, and that's actually why I was here, and this isn't going as planned at all and I'm sorry but I tried I can't believe it's really you and you aren't mad at me because I'd be mad at me why aren't you mad at me and the town people still remember me this is - " her long winded rant was cut short by deep laughter. It had started as a chuckle somewhere in the middle of her speech and ended up full blown laughter.
"Bryn, slow down. You're going to confuse me more than I already am. I got that this is mine," he motioned to the papers he now held, "and I got that you're nervous. But that's about all I got." Bryn felt herself go red, and just nodded. He gestured inside and the two of them quickly found themselves seated in the kitchen-slash-workshop. "Please, continue. And slowly this time." She repeated all the information, leaving out details such as where she had come from and where the papers had been before finding their way into her possession. In true Aran fashion, he sat through the whole thing and just nodded, listening and apparently deep in thought. The two of them bounced ideas off each other as to what the papers were, and why they had been intact for all these years when they were obviously so old. It was almost just like old times.
It took another two years to get even close to breaking the code that was in the papers. It was odd, because Aran had all but confirmed it to be Dragonborn text, but even then neither of them could understand it. By that time, Bryn had fallen back into the habit of living with another person. She found comfort in the small village, telling stories both to the kids and to the people who were kids when she left, and were now young adults. Some of them even had their own kids, and those were her favorite. It was odd, because seeing them all grown up should have reminded her of her own age, but she didn't really feel any different. Maybe it was because she had spent the time travelling and training. Or maybe it was another perk of Sehanine's grace. She didn't bother to think too much of it though. By the time they had made any progress on the papers, she was more worried about other matters.
"Aran, what do I do? What do you even wear to a wedding? A DWARVEN wedding! How in the gods name am I supposed to know what to wear to a DWARVEN WEDDING?" Bryn paced about nervously, not wanting to screw this up for her friend. Sure, they hadn't seen each other in ten years. But that didn't change what they had all gone through together, and it didn't change the fact that she considered Rockwell one of her closest companions. Same with everyone she had traveled with. Aran chuckled at her antics.
"Well, you could research it a little. The wedding isn't for another few months, Bryn. You have time. Plenty of time to figure out what you're going to wear, and what you're going to do. And I'll work on the scroll." Bryn whipped around faster than either of them thought was possible, and for a second she was worried about whiplash. But only a second.
"Oh no," she growled, sending a glare at the still chuckling Dragonborn. "If I have to suffer through this, so do you. How amusing do you find it now." An eyebrow ridge quirked up and she smirked in response. They spoke with their actions, and finally she won, earning a sigh from the older dragon. "I suggest you find something to wear too. Nice robes or something. The journey to Stonehaven from here is a good month if we're lucky, so that leaves us just a couple months to figure this out before we have to prepare and leave." Her friend just nodded, and as he stood to leave, hesitated. What Bryn often called "the look" passed over his face. It was that look he got when he wanted to say something but thought better of it. It was a look she had seen on others before too, but it would always be his look first, and Bryn was glad when he let it go and left the room. She sunk into a chair and sighed. It wouldn't be long before he asked about her adventures. He had probably heard stories from the townsfolk, but that wouldn't be enough. That much she knew. Aran was inquisitive, he loved asking questions and finding answers. It would only be a matter of time before he decided to ask her about her own past. And although she didn't mind telling him, Bryn didn't think she could handle reliving all of that right now. It would more likely break her than help her.
The two of them skirted around the issue for the remainder of their time together in Hartshire, and continued to do so during the journey to Stonehaven. The question of just when he would ask haunted Bryn for the next few months, and when he finally cornered her in a Stonehaven tavern, she had already resigned herself to her fate.
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