The Eerie Clearing

Eira had decided to go for a walk. That's all she really wanted. She'd decided to let Sangrei and Amairgen sleep after a hard day's work and slipped out before dawn. She understood her general presence attracted company, and with company came trouble, but now and again she needed to be on her own.

About an hour into her walk, she found herself meandering into a clearing. She paused, instantly noting the uncanny feeling in the area, or rather, the lack thereof. Much of her awareness came from her practice as a witch, although the very human side of her had gone on alert as well, giving her a slight warning in her mind. It told her to leave, but Eira wasn't very good at listening to that voice.

A jangling made her jump slightly, the noise out of place in the silent clearing. She turned her head and landed her eyes on a man wearing quite a bit of armor. What's this, a knight? thought Eira.

Approaching him, the woman waved and shouted, "Hello!" As she moved closer, she took a strand of hair that had fallen into her face and moved it behind her ear. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone out here. Are you lost?"

So quiet was it that the sound of a woman's voice shattered Dirk's train of thought. Blinking he turned to look at the beautiful individual who had wandered into his patch of the woods. It was strange, he assumed, to see anyone out here. Let alone someone who acted as cheery or kind as the stranger. Giving a grin that lacked a few teeth he raised his own hand.

"Hail, miss, I'm a mite lost I s'pose. Y'know which way'a town is?" he asked. The question was casual enough, but his eyes went wide at the sound of a third voice. Hopping straight to his feet with a clatter of armor he spotted where the curious voice came from. It seemed almost to draw the life out of him, and he made a quick, superstitious sign in response. Folks didn't wears masks unless they had something to hide! Was this strange man with the woman? He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. Could she be some sort of trickster fae? A ghost? A witch?! No no, he had to stop being so childish, there were no such things, surely! Wives tales! But this thing sat behind her was very much real. 

"M-more'a coffee drinker meself,"

The man cocked his head to the side, causing his odd twin-pointed hood to flop over. It was an odd gesture, similar to a confused pigeon. His painted white mask did not betray any sort of emotion, nor did his voice.

"Well, that's good to hear. It's such a bother to make tea. It's always either too hot or too cold, I've never been able to get just the right temperature. Such a shame, don't you think? I'm skilled at some things, but tea is not one of those."

He placed the white marble on the ground, where it swiveled and rolled. Looking down at it, Eira and Dirk would find themselves staring directly into a flawless glass eyeball, which stared right back.

"In any case, who are you two, and where did you come from? I live out here...as much as anyone lives anywhere, I guess. What are you doing out here, miss?"

Misaika had been travelling for nearly half a day and was heading towards Isra to make her fortune there - hopefully at one of the large magical institutions there. But right now she had other worries. Where was she right now? The signs along the way had been ambiguous and sometimes even missing when the road split and she could only trust her instinct and the sun in guiding her the right way - and neither being very reliable indicators to Misaika. Seeing a clearing up ahead and a couple of people she smiled faintly under her black hood and picked up the pace, hoping they could point her in the right direction.

First foot into the clearing and a tingling, almost chilling sensation went up through her spine. 'What was this place?' she immediately thought and looked around. The dull colors and oddly stifled magical aura made her realize that something was wrong even before she laid her gaze on the masked entity that stood in front of the couple she had seen. Her green eyes remained vigilant and her mind guarded as she carefully approached the trio from behind with her arms crossed. Somewhere deep down a quiet terror lurked inside her, but curiosity got the best of Misaika though she didn't dare use her scrying abilities openly just yet.

"Someone dropped their eye." she said in a flat tone, to make the couple notice she was standing behind her. She was observing the glass eye trying to figure out what the deal was with that thing. She swiftly looked at couple and from the look in their faces she gleaned that they probably weren't particularly acquainted with the odd spirit-like man in front of them. Gathering a bit of courage she spoke to the entity.

"What do they call one like you?" Misaika asked him. She was nervous about his intentions but to anyone close by she would seem surprisingly composed given the peculiar situation. Misaika would give the two others an inquisitive glance. It wasn't before now she had gotten a proper look at them. One being a brutish kind for sure and was clad in sturdy armor but oddly enough missing a of weapon to go with it. The other one was a black haired woman about the same age as herself. She looked fashionable with elegant clothes completely different to Misaika's pitch black and rather plain robe.

"I'm Misaika, I happened to pass by." she simply said looking out under her cloak, a few strands of her auburn hair being visible. Apparently Misaika had never heard that giving up your name to a ghost would yield any kind of trouble.

The glass eye rolled along the seemingly flat and level ground, moseying towards them until it bumped up against "Frank Fletcher's" foot and stopped. It stared up at him, wide and unblinking. The sparkling green iris seemed to be flawlessly crafted, and would perhaps remind him of someone...or maybe not. Meanwhile, the masked man stood up and walked over towards them.

"Frank Fletcher? Well, it's nice to meet you, Frank Fletcher. Funny, you don't really have the hair for a Fletcher. You look more like a Stevens, or a Snooker, or maybe even a Smithson...but what do I know about names. I only have one, and my siblings only have one each as well. I suppose my parents weren't very generous with theirs...or perhaps they simply wanted me to exist on my own, without ties to the world. Who knows what they wanted, anyways. What's a name even good for? It's something someone else gives you, that you have to carry for the rest of your life...unless you decide not to, and go by something else. That kind of cheapens the whole thing, don't you think? But what happens if your parents give you the wrong name? You could be stuck for your whole life, with everyone calling you something you're not."

He turned towards the newcomer, twirling around to face her when she spoke. His coat billowed out when he spun, revealing something sparkling underneath for the faintest of split-seconds.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm so clumsy sometimes, I'm always dropping eyes everywhere...although, it seems that that one is all the way over there now. Perhaps this Mr. Frank Fletcher would like to purchase it. It'll come with a free polish, don't you worry. As for your question, ma'am...well now, nobody ever asks for my name. It's an awfully lonely life when nobody asks who you are, you know that? My name is Foxgloves, and it's very good to meet you all. Thank you for asking, Misaika. Can I interest you in some tea, perhaps?"

The sharp whistle of a kettle started somewhere, although it was difficult to determine the direction and distance in these woods. It could have been right in front of their faces, or perhaps it was a hundred feet away...who knew? The whistle stopped suddenly, as quickly as it had come. 

"As for you, Eira-Not-Lady-Bradford, are you really lost? You're always somewhere, and there's always a way to go somewhere else. And besides, we all know each other now! It's not like you're in the woods with a group of strangers or anything, just four travelers out on a walk. Or perhaps five, or maybe six...who knows if my brother and sister will show up. They're always so tardy. Tsk tsk."

From in the woods, the group would hear the distinctive clink of porcelain on porcelain, and soft gurgle of something being poured.

'Frank Fletcher is his name!' Misaika noted to herself. But as the masked man continued she grew a bit more confused. What was that about? Did he have more names than just that one? That odd eyeball sure made Frank Fletcher - or Frank Smithson or whatever his name was - pretty jumpy, but to Misaika it looked like an interesting research object.

The other woman seemed the social type and Misaika smiled carefully.
"The right time?" she asked. In her opinion it seemed like a very awkward time to arrive and she'd much rather have arrive before or after this gathering. "I think I'll report under the 'lost' banner." Misaika said. "I'm Misaika." she said, realizing she probably knew because she had already told the masked man the same. Oh well, the situation could hardly get more awkward.

"Are you... always dropping your eyes everywhere?" Misaika asked her neutral face making the remark seem almost 'cool', but it was hardly her intention as she was starting to grow increasingly baffled by this being but did her best to stay composed.
"Foxgloves..." Misaika tasted the name on her tongue. "What an odd name." she concluded and frowned. "Who named you that?" she inquired and gave the eyeball a sidelong glance of interest again.

"Tea..?" Misaika said, but was still focused on the eyeball over in front of Dirk. Misaika didn't really answer Foxgloves but went over to eyeball and put her hand on Dirk's shoulders.

"Can I see that?" she asked Dirk but not waiting for an answer before she bend down and attempted to grab the eyeball. Would it be squishy and moist like a real eyeball or was it a magic glass replica? "What a curious thing!" she said as she held it between three fingers and inspected it closely, as a spell of focused light came from the palm of her other hand illuminating the odd eyeball.

Misaika would hear the odd tea noises but was far too invested in examining the eyeball's magical and physical properties to give much heed to it.

Foxgloves watched idly as the man very nearly stepped on the glass eyeball, without any visible sign of relief when Misaika rescued it from a gruesome fate. It would feel cold and hard in her hands, twitching slightly as it tried to roll around between her fingers. It really was a finely made replica of an eye, complete with subtle veins and a sparkling green iris. It seemed impossible that such a thing could be crafted by ordinary human hands...but then again, Foxgloves seemed like anything but an ordinary human.

"I usually don't drop them, but this one seemed like the right one to put on the ground. Sometimes you just gotta put things down and let them do what they need to, you know? I'm sure you understand the feeling. And Mr. Smi- er, Fletcherrrr...I'm sure you'll say that now, but what if you lose one? What then? I'm sure you'd love a replacement. One must be prepared, you know. And thank you, Miss Eira-not-Lady-Bradford. I spent a long time on that."

Footsteps approached from behind the group, soft and delicate. If they turned, they'd see a young woman approaching with a teacup-laden tray. She had the sort of face that one might find pretty, if a bit severe. In stark contrast to her grim expression, she wore a rather large bow in her hair, an oddly innocent accent on an otherwise cold individual. Foxglove looked up at her, waving absently.

"Ah, Datura. Thank you for the tea. These are our new guests, their names are-"

He was cut off by the crash of a teacup being flung into his face. It shattered against his mask, and he toppled backwards without a sound. It was a moment before he sat back up, shaking his head and rubbing tea off the mask. Datura gave him a withering glare, sighing with irritation.

"I know who they are, Foxgloves. I've been listening. I'm not deaf, you know. Now, are you sure you wouldn't like some tea? I put a lot of effort into making it, you know. It's very good."

Misaika only gave the bulky man a quick glance as response to his warning about the eyeball.
"I'm just looking at it. Very finely made and hard as glass." Misaika said showed it to Dirk aiming the green iris at him. "Well, finders keepers then." she said with a slight smirk and put it in a small linen purse and strapped a leather band around to keep it there before securing it to her waist belt. Misaika wasn't going to keep it if the masked man asked for it back, but she was curious about his reaction if she did feign to take it for herself.

Misaika only saw the odd girl after the cup of tea had crashed into the masked man and she turned around slightly startled by this commotion. She had many things she wanted to ask the masked man, but the situation had seemed to take another turn. Dirk was already trying to push them back and away from the aggressive girl with the tea but Misaika was getting curious about this one too.
"If I ask for tea, will I have it served the same way?" Misaika asked as she slipped underneath Dirk's arm and in front of him. Misaika felt emboldened now and her green eyes seemed to study the girl's response intricately.

Datura glanced over at Misaika, giving a disdainful sniff as she set the tea tray down. Foxgloves reached out for a mug, but she smacked his hand away and shoved him aside, knocking him off the stump once more.

"Well, that all depends, Misaika. Do you intend on asking stupid questions or telling me things that I already know? Do you plan to treat me like an idiot, hmm? If not, I think you should be just fine. Drink up. Be careful, it's hot."

Turning to Eira, she handed her a mug as well. Tea leaves swirled at the bottom, and a rich, comforting aroma emanated from the tea.

"It's tea. Made of tea leaves and hot water. What else would you find in tea? It's a little bitter, but I can sweeten it if you like."

She gestured to a small saucer of glittering white powder sitting on the tray, with a tiny silver spoon sitting beside it. It seemed to glow in the shade, in stark contrast to the dull drearyness of the rest of the clearing. The bowl seemed to be a fine white porcelain, with blue flowers painted on the side.

"I don't like sugar so much, it isn't sweet enough for me. Same with honey...it just isn't enough for me. But this...this is the sweetest thing you'll ever taste. It's so delicious...there's nothing quite sweeter than a sweet dream, don't you agree?"

Taking a small scoop, she sprinkled the glittering powder into her tea. It dissolved immediately into the tea, and a soft sigh would be heard drifting up from the mug. Datura sipped the tea, smiling. Glancing over at Dirk, her smile vanished and she thrust a mug towards him.

"Drink."

Meanwhile, Foxgloves got up and walked over to Misaika, leaning in to within a couple inches of her face. Even this close, it was impossible to see what was behind the mask besides an infinite black void.

"You can keep the eye. I usually sell them, but you might need it."