Tainted.

Following the events in the Blackwood, Ainvar left the city after ensuring Freya's safety, and sought refuge within the Cimbrian hillfort of Osca, to the west of Locks, on the northern side of the river. A week had passed, Fianna had been elected Sheriff of the growing town, Ainvar had begun to master the gift Taranus had given. Yet, time had stood still since he last saw Freya, questions burned the heart and soul of the warrior, questions he dared not to ask.

Ainvar rode atop a large brown stallion, shown in a long-sleeved crimson tunic of linen trimmed in gold, grown Russ pants, brown leather boots, brown leather bracers, his long hair loosely pulled back and tied with leather cord, and a massive brass torc around his neck. His guard was sent ahead to the city, allowing him a moment's peace before entering the city walls.

Slowly making his was down the riverbank, a golden burst of light shown upon the water as the Sun set, Summer was at it's end. A small breeze kicked up, allowing a stray lock of air into his face, as Ainvar pushed it back, he noticed a woman sitting at the water's edge. As he approached closer, he noticed it was Freya, a sad, yet beautiful sight to be seen. He steered his horse towards her at a slow, and steady pace.

Coming within earshot of her, Ainvar dismounts, guiding the horse by the reins toward Freya, "I salute you, a free person, my lady". He stopped within feet of her, seeing her troubled face, He paused, unsure of what to say. Instead, he let go of the reins, allowing the horse to graze, as he slowly sat next down to her.

"Aye, I thank you for the concern. I've learned to harness this peculiar gift, though I dare not question why the Gods have given me such a gift". Ainvar plucks a blade of grass, and begins to fiddle with it in his fingers. "And you? I'm not used to you looking so..familiar.. how are you fairing?" Ainvar looks her over, once more taking in her transformation.

He looked across the river, and gazes upon a small flock of geese in the water, a strange feeling came over him. A degree of nervousness, a queer feeling that he wished not to acknowledge.

Ainvar flicked the blade of grass into the river, "A home you still have, you will be welcomed in this land, as your own home. I cannot give you reason to why this happened, only that the Gods saw it fit." He maintained eye contact with her. "You may find new kin here. These people are gentle."

Ainvar stopped mid-thought, "Why would your people abandon you? Are you not still Lady Freya?"

Ainvar paused for a moment, before speaking. "You were no wolf, you were a sand serpent, with respect, my Lady. What once was a serpent, is now a wolf. You are here, in the land of wolves. Our blood is no less potent as yours, if anything, with the shortness of our lives, we treasure more, this journey we call life. And yet, we crave more glory, and legacy for our blood, with what little time we have in this realm. The Gods here wanted you this way, perhaps this form is what you truly we're meant to be, the elven blood being your prison. We are a free people here, that cherish life, as well as death. You, my Lady, have died, and been born again as I have, just as the Great Wheel of the seasons causes this land to die, only to be reborn in a new light. I dare say, this is not the end for you, Freya. Merely the beginning..."

As the Sun began to set, Ainvar felt a slight chill in the air. The humidity was gone, and the harvest was on it's way. He watched ripples in the water, made from the various wildlife inhabiting the river. "Were you not welcomed in this land, I would not have allowed you entry. If the Gods did not want this to be your home, I fear they would have not cleansed your blood, and made you one of us".

He looked up at the rising moon, and muttered a quiet prayer in Gaulish, before looking into Freya's eyes. "There is reason why you've been brought here, my Lady. To what end, I cannot tell you..."

Listening to her words, Ainvar considerd his response carefully. "The Gods work in ways I cannot explain, nor would I try to. Why Taranus willed you to be this way, is beyond my mind. But a reason, there must be, for him to bathe us in lightning. Giving me my life back, and giving you one, anew. Perhaps something you said may have influenced his will. Perhaps, he's chosen you for a purpose unforseen to us. Though, even they may not have answers either to this mystery, consulting the Order may lead you in the proper direction".

Ainvar looked down at the grass below him, memories running through his brain of past times. "And you are mistaken, Lady Freya. I too have felt what it was like to have all you've known stripped from you". He cleared his throat, and looked ahead, toward the White Keep that lay across the river. "Shortly after I became a man, a legion of Rome came into this area, seeking to claim the White Keep, then being nothing but a shell of it's glory, abandoned. We Cimbri had no concern for their desires, other than the fact that their foraging was stripping the land of its fruits, and creatures. The Eagle takes, but does not give. My father, Chieftain of the Cimbri, led myself, and a large host to push the Eagle from these, our ancestral lands, that we may not starve that coming winter. On the second day of the battle that became known as The Spears, we engaged in attack, hoping to push them out, once and for all. In the middle of the fight, I watched my father be cut down by a Centurion, and I was captured. They took me and other slaves they acquired west to one of their provinces, and I was sold, as a slave, to some plump merchant". He looked down at his left arm, and slowly pushed back the sleeve of his tunic, revealing three VI's, branded on his inner forearm. "I was forced to fight for my life in the various arenas in their lands, earning scars, broken bones, while the man who bought me grew rich on my anger. I hated everyone. I thought my tribe was destroyed, wiped from this world. My family, my kin, my friends. I didn't know who I was, had forgotten my very name, I was simply a number". Ainvar pulled the sleeve of his tunic down, and his gaze, hollow as he relived his memories, went back to the Keep.

He cleared his throat once more, "it wasn't until a slave, newly purchased, saw who I was. He came from the Sequani, a neighboring tribe to my own, he began to tell me how after my father's death, a noble by the name Dumnorix seized control of my people, they weren't annihilated after all. We had won The Spears, and pushed Rome back from where they came. The victory was crushing for my people also. He was fearful of retaliation from the Eagle, this man was a coward, and began talks with their masters, hoping to become a vassal. I broke from my chains one night, and escaped into the wild. Cernunnos guided me back to my home lands, and I stood my claim to my father's seat. Dumnorix, not surprisingly, objected, and we settled the dispute the way my people have done for generations, single combat. As I held the man's head high in the air, I claimed my rightful place in my tribe. Afterwards, the Kingdom of the Crystal Groves requested we occupy the Keep, to ensure safety of the waterway, so that trade could flourish between we, and them, as well as with the rest of the surrounding lands".

Ainvar looked over at Freya, "So you see, with death, with loss, life springs anew. It may not be as you expected, but little in life is.."