Just over a fortnight of having dispatched a messenger to the esteemed allies in Colchis, Lady Rene…..or simply, Rene, as she found being titled uncomfortable and patronizing to others,........bid goodbye to almost tearful parents, Dastros and Ianthe. It was always in parting moments that one came to appreciate what had oft been taken for granted, oft overlooked as a triviality so utterly common it bore hardly the most passive of notice. It was in those moments, as Rene stood on the cusp of a turning point in her life, her first venture out on her own, that her parents were painfully reminded how little attention they’d afforded her, unintentionally of course. Moments of truth always followed moments of pain, and this was no exception. With none of her siblings available to accompany her, it was by the hardest, and with no small amount of charm, beautiful smile, and lovely twinkle to her bold blue eyes, that Rene had convinced her parents to allow her to set off on her own, for the first time. Well….mostly on her own. On her own in the sense there were no other family members present. That kind of alone.

With the usual script of embraces and sniffles and a few tears, Rene wore her determination like a badge, climbing into the fortified carriage Dastros had secured for his youngest daughter’s journey. Padded velveteen seats and thick draperies around the interior and window coverings provided insulation in the spacious vehicle. In the center floor, perched on metal plating sat a very small charcoal burning kettle, to heat the interior, complete with smoke venting. Given the growing dangers around the realms, Dastros took no chances with his family’s well being. The coachman and footman were of course both soldiers, and the five mounted escorts were naturally soldiers. All of them appeared a stout bunch, stiff-lipped, postures as rigid as their breast plates. Hard eyes bore out from beneath Corinthian helmets, all with red plumes, and both the flags they carried, and those on the coach bore the mark of House Nickolaos. While it had been enough that no small amount of convincing had urged them to agree to send Rene off on her own, Dastros was still a family man, through and through, and loving father, and would do no gambling with the lives of his kin. Especially young Rene. Having always been close to her, it was hard to watch the last of his children express a desire to start leaving the nest. Whereas her siblings had long since benched him in the proverbial game of life, Rene still allowed him to play a few innings, and while he wasn’t very good at openly admitting it, he did revel in the notion that he held at least some influence in her life, largely because she still granted it. As such, he had requested some of the best of Athenia’s soldiers for escort, arming them to the teeth, and instructing them that nary so much as a hair should be touched on the head of his baby girl, and should their lives be forfeit in the defense of such, he would personally compensate their families as a result.

The initial leg of the journey was via boat. While it was exciting and new at first, after nearly a week of the rocking motion, she found it less charming as time went by, the back and fourth of the ship on the water affixing a glaze of queasiness to her features. How her older brother Adre tolerated this all the time was beyond her. When they’d finally arrived on the shores of Colchis, what greeted her was a wintry landscape, cold, windy, a dampness in the air inferred by the dewy makings of a poor attempt at rain. In the warmth of her heated coach, the young noble sketched in one of her parchment pads, periodically using a finger to nudge aside a bit of drapery in order to view the foreign landscape. Insatiably curious, she couldn’t help but drink in the new scenery, drab that it was on account of the climate. Outside, her collection of Spartan-esque guards marched along on their horses, their collective breaths visible in the air, their red cloaks pulled about them, shields and spears held at the ready. When Rene counted her dreams and aspirations, wealth and status were not among them. Born to privilege, she knew nothing else, including the gnawing bite of frigid temperatures. Wrapped in luxurious furs, she sat cocooned, the cherished egg in the Nickolaos nest. While she had spent a lifetime playing the part of the tiny helpless damsel in distress, and babe in need of protection, and she harbored no misgivings about such, mind you, she still chased the day she took up a more active role in her life, stepping out of that bystander plot device and into one of commander at the helm. And she stood at the precipice of those days.

As Lord Pavlos had, unbeknownst to him most likely, become her first paid commission, for a portrait of himself, Rene had deliberated over the piece, determining how best to represent the brash and haughty noble in a flattering and courageous light, donning his gleaming armor, sword raised against a terrible enemy, that he alone should vanquish such a threat, bravely restoring safety to the lands. Yes, that exactly summed up Pavlos, though, if she were being realistic, she might have depicted him scowling, as the noble seemed to manifest a perpetual air of annoyance about him.

It would be hours and hours of travel, a stop here and there to water the horses, allow the guards nourishment, and offer any provisions to Rene that she required before they arrived at their intended destination. At long last, the carriage drew to a halt, and no sooner had the teen’s ears caught the distinct “whoa” being issued to the horses pulling the coach, did she instantly sit up in her seat, stealing a peek out of the window once more. The captain of the guard dismounted and rapped on the door of the carriage with his gauntleted knuckles a few times. ”Lady Rene, we have arrived in Elimea,” his voice announced in full tenor, before opening the door. As he did so, the soldier could feel the warmth from inside escaping, were he a weaker man, perhaps a bit of envy may have crept in at the blaring distinction in social class. Skin like leather, battle hardened, and fiercely loyal, with children of his own, perhaps even her age, the captain merely waited for the adolescent female inside to emerge, offering a hand so that she might steady herself as she descended the steps of the carriage.

In the bleak and chilled landscape of the once mining colony, a veritable palette of greys and umbers met the eye, any vibrance long since subdued by the shortened days and doldrums of winter solstice. Rene emerged, standing out in her pale blue chiton, bundled up in gleaming white furs, a very small band of silver around her forehead. She appeared heavenly, surreal almost, amid such a depressed backdrop. Yet, her youthful face was naught but beaming, eyes sweeping over the immediate surroundings as she paused only for a moment, before accepting the captain’s outstretched hand, and disembarking her coach.