Syn walked back to the tower after the Forum. It had been a long day, but against the hatred and stress of the world at large, it had been a good day for him. “It would be fun to be scary, to be intimidating; just for a day.” Ash had said in the link about being a guardian. And so he’d offered to train her personally. She had joked; the last time they had practiced at her request she had duped him, feigning being hurt and the training session had proved moot. She’d asked if he would be afraid to hurt her in that training. He’d simply responded that she’d told him not to think of her as defenseless, to not put her in a bubble. And since this wouldn’t be on official guardian time, that he would be careful and use the proper equipment, but he would see the request through.Tired, Syn trudged up the stairs to Ash’s room. It wasn’t his room - Fel, he didn’t have any room in the tower; he’d never picked one nor had he been assigned one - but it felt like a little bit of sanctuary at least. He knocked and when no one answered, he ventured in. She was clearly still out, though he wasn’t entirely sure where. With someone in the order, he was sure of that, just not the specifics. He removed his armor and looked into her mirror, assessing the scars and marks left from Vyn’s demon training session. He sighed, ‘The scars [on my face] are never going to fade.’ he unfortunately thought. He worked on fading the bruising a little before resigning himself to the bed. As he laid down, he looked over at her Darkmoon Faire poster again, and he remembered the dream he’d had just the other night… the girl from the Faire. He rested his head on the pillow and let sleep claim him to free him of his burden’s for a little while.
The blackness of sleep blurred cleared into the Faire again. Syn looked up at the banner once more. A week had passed since he’d come here on leave from his post. His superior had ordered him to take some RnR, and so Syn had gone to the Faire to appease him and tried to return to his post the following day, but the colonel had been quite cross with him. “Get out and I don’t want to see you for the rest of the week Captain. And that’s an order.” he’d told Syn. Syn had brooded about Silvermoon and his city apartment and gotten some light training in, but something nagged at the back of his mind; the dancer at the Faire. She’d give him a simple silver ring as a token, a favor - at least that’s how he’d taken it. But the look in her eye was far more curious. She’d looked almost sad even as she’d touched his cheek. The moment had been tense, he was powerless before her then. ‘You’re a hardened soldier damn it.’ he thought to himself. ‘You know the commitment you made to the Blood Knight Order and to the Royal guard, you knew what you were sacrificing.’ But in his heart, Syn hadn’t realized how powerful love could feel. He hadn’t understood how much of a pull the sensation would have, and now this girl had gone and changed everything without knowing it. He couldn’t just let it sit.He walked through the fair once more to the event stage, but after waiting couldn’t find the girl. He paced back through the stretch of tents thinking hard. He wanted to see her again, but his eyes were betraying his heart. Then he remembered the tarot card she had pulled but hadn’t shown him, simply given him the ring and left. What had his fortune been, what had she seen? There was only one way he was going to find that answer. He made his way to one of the wandering Faire personnel who pointed him in the direction of the fortune telling tent. He smiled as he reached where he had been directed. This was clearly the place, a poster was tacked up to a wooden board that showed a girl dancing with flashy writing advertising the Darkmoon Faire.“May I come in?” Syn asked announcing himself. He smirked briefly, he hadn’t said a word at their last meeting, hopefully she’d be pleasantly surprised - he knew he was excited to at least see her one more time.“Fate has brought you here, let me see you.” the musical voice wafted through the entrance flaps.Syn walked in. The tent smelled of incense and spices, but it was also oddly reminiscent of Eversong. The girl sat across from the entrance, a short table between them with cushions all around it. The beauty was turned and observing something on the fringes of the tent, perhaps one of the many trinkets that were strung from the canvas’s upper reaches. Syn took a cushion at the table, kneeling down. He had dressed up or down a bit more as the case might’ve been - exchanging his armor for the ornate robes of his linage, the robes of a Sunfury. She turned around after a moment and as her almond shaped eyes rounded on her visitor, the emerald orbs widening in surprise. “How…wha- …What are you doing here?” she sounded shocked.Syn only smiled refraining from speaking, language would only make him sound stupid. And besides, a soldier should be judged by their actions, not by their words.After a moment Syn answered, “You drew a tarot card yesterday; you asked to read my future. But you never -did- tell me what you saw.” he said coyly.The girl recovered from her momentary shock “So I did.” she said bashfully, seemingly embarrassed by her little blunder. “Very well, give me your hand then please.” she said sweetly, her voice shimmering musically.Syn placed his hands on the table, palms up. The girl looked carefully, taking his left hand in hers, tracing her fingers along the various peaks and lines of his hand. She stared at his skin intently. Syn could do nothing and said nothing. But his mind wiped blank as slate as soon as she touched him, all he could think about was how soft her skin was, how gentle her touch was, and how tender she seemed.After a while of studying, she gazed up at him. Her emerald orbs drew him into their depth. There was something in her eyes now, but he didn’t know what it was. Some emotion, some feeling, but unlike an enemy on the field of battle, he couldn’t predict what she was thinking. Slowly she spoke, her fingers retracing certain things to illustrate what she was saying. “You are certainly curious. A deep heart line, you love passionately and deeply.” She gestured to his clothes, “But don’t all soldiers love what they serve?” She moved on without waiting for an answer. “The line of mind… strong-willed and loyal. Brave. Courageous. Valiant. A perfectionist, always striving to improve, to be the best.” Syn looked at her, and her gaze had once again risen from his hand to his face. She almost seemed as if she had stopped talking from his hand, and was rather speaking from her own heart. It was pleasant if not a little surprising. Syn felt blood rushing to his cheeks. This girl just had an effect, and he had no control over it. She too blushed, breaking eye contact.“Before I go on,” she said hesitantly, her voice a flow of liquid gold, silky smooth and luscious. “What can I call you?”Syn thought carefully, the tactical side of his mind returning to him for a moment. “Call me Captain.” he said pleasantly. It’s probably for the best, he thought. Don’t want to become too attached. “And you?”Her smiles shrank just a little before she continued. “Very well Captain, you may call me Gypsy.” Syn grinned in the back of his mind. She was smart and devious, she was playing the game. It was like a dance, like a game, though each was planning their moves carefully. She gestured to his hand again, “The line of life.” Syn looked at her face now as she spoke. “It’s deep, you live well, a life full of merit and honor. You have a good life, it’ll be full of love and happiness.” Syn frowned as he watched. Now his soldier’s instinct kicked in. It wasn’t that she was lying; rather she was withholding something. She looked up from his hand and smiled at him as she finished. Syn held her gaze before his other hand drifted towards the stack of tarot cards on the table. Deftly, he shuffled them with one hand as she held his gaze. “If I may?” he asked. She simply blinked, smiling warmly. In quick succession, he drew three cards placing them all face down. He preceded to flip the first one over. The card of Strength, his past. Next, the Protector, the card of the guardian; his present. Syn looked to her as he flipped over the last card. The girl looked mortified and unhappy as he did so. Syn looked down, the card of death. He chuckled a little. Her hands darted forward and grabbed his hand again, “Stay here.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Don’t go. Stay at the Faire where it’s safe.” Syn quietly shook his head and then said the most honest thing he could, “The future is a long and distant thing. But I’m not worried. Everyone dies eventually Gypsy. Eventually we all return to the earth, but it’s what we do with our limited time here that makes our lives mean something. That makes them worth living at all.” A small tear formed in the corner of her eyes before it slide down her cheek. The royal guard reached over with his other hand and wiped her face dry. She rubbed her cheek into his hand, and he held for a moment before he dropped his hand away. “You gave me something,” he tapped his finger where the ring now rested, “and I promise I will think of you. Be well maiden of the Faire.” he finished standing up. She stood up too and he gave a deep formal bow before retreating out of the tent. He walked away to leave the Faire, but not before looking back once more. She was there at the entrance to her tent, watching him walk away, clutching the structure’s fabric - perhaps for comfort- as he left. He waved and disappeared into the mist.
The dream faded to black and Syn drifted back into dreamless sleep….