Anarchic Book 1: City of Rivers

Chapter 4

The Aether of the ever-churning Roil, the arcane ocean storm at the heart of the Gulf of Stormholm, manifests to those who bond to it in different ways. Some can summon winds to buffet their foes or fill a ship's sails, others can coax ocean waves to batter enemy craft, and when working together, can bring into existence terrible storms.

Others still had even more obscure and bizarre connections to the Roil, such as Alexander's uncanny control over falling water, or Joan Fulmin's ability to fly among the winds.

Rose could not summon great storms or command the elements to harry her foes. Indeed, It had been all she could do to hold back a small breeze for a minute or two. Instead, she felt the way the Aether of the Roil moved around and through her. How the flows and shifts of it moved her, and how she in turn moved it. From this, she had developed a connection to the wind's speed, its freedom to move about the earth.

She reveled in that freedom as the Roil's Aether moved her limbs with impossible speed. Clearing yards in a single stride, covering distances in moments that would take others minutes. Even as she passed by the last of the farmsteads and hit the edge of the Wetwood, she traveled around the cluttered forest floor with ease. Her reflexes too had been blessed with the wind's alacrity, and each step she took was as sure as it was fast.

She could only maintain this connection to the Roil for so long, she would eventually have to stop and recover her stamina. But she planned to cut in as deep as she could into the Wetwood first.

With no specific destination in mind, and with her eyes and feet more than equipped to handle the journey, it left Rose's mind to wonder.

What am I doing here? She asked herself, and not for the first time during this trek.

The Wetwood was vast. Stretching to the west all the way to the Misty Veil Mountains, and to the east half way to Terminus. There were countless miles to this forest, what use was one person?

But there was more to it. She had reviewed the incident reports from the towns further east and west and found mostly the same sort of complaints from the tenant farmers as usual; taxes are too high, pay is too low. Nothing about woodwolf attacks or other bizarre disturbances.

No, whatever was happening was close. That still left miles upon miles to search, but it did give Rose a hope, however misplaced, that even by herself, she might find something amiss.

She finally slowed to a walk. She would need time to recover if she was to tap back into the Aether enough to get back to the City before nightfall.

The Wetwood was gorgeous, as forests went. It was filled with wild, ambient Aether that gave a sensation of life to the very air itself. Trees were covered in a patchwork of various mosses, strange flowers bloomed in every direction. Here, the small critters of the woods grew to nearly twice their usual size as they feasted on the Aether-rich plants.

Rose had come here often after she had joined the Militia. There was something about the not-quite quiet of the living forest. The gentle ambiance of it helped calm her mind when the pressures of life got to be too much.

But she hadn't come here to relax, she had come for answers. But where to start?

Once again she felt her mind reel to the enormity of the task. Was she truly being foolish? How could she meaningfully search all this space? She felt frustration seep in. If only she could bring this to the higher-ups. Or rather she could, but she knew it would be less than wasted effort.

If the Constable really was planning on tackling the Hovel, that would require damn near every strongarm the Militia had. In fact, she was already prepared to get an earful from Captain Golding once she found out what Rose had been spending her time on.