Excerpt: Astella's Daughter

Voices. She knew she was hearing voices from somewhere, and she certainly knew they weren't her own mental voices. She'd heard enough of those over the last few days to be able to differentiate real voices from her own. Clutching her 'staff', that measly branch of charcoal streaked birchwood, tighter, she thought for a long moment about whether to approach them or not. Running through her mind was the hope that they could help her to the next town, coupled with the idea that the party might be bandits looking to steal what little value she didn't have on her in any way possible. She sighed, scratched her head, and decided to go for it. Even ending up in the hands of bandits would be better than wandering starved half to death and lost in this forest.

The voices grew louder, more distinct, as she headed towards them, noticing her path currently went right through a uncomfortable looking bush. She'd have to go around and hope not to lose the people. It sounded like a smaller group, on foot. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but it sounded distinctly like a lady. She smiled in relief, as it was in her mind that no respectable lady would ever be a bandit, though obviously her mind never accounted for the unrespectable sorts of ladies. Unfortunately, she was paying so much attention to the voices, she didn't see the tree root jutting up in her path and tripped right over it, sending her straight into the bushes.

The prickly branches tore at her already ragged garments, snagged at her already matted hair and, rather luckily, tumbled her flat onto her face rather than keeping her in their poky wooden fingers. She lay there, her face in the dirt, hearing the footsteps come to a stop not far from her outstretched hand. They were staring, and a thought crossed her mind that if they were respectable, she was probably the bandit in their minds, but she had to get out of this forest. She stood, brushing the dust from her stained rags like an elegant lady, her head going to that aristocratic tilt she knew all too well. She looked them over briefly, noting it was two ladies, both taller than her and in traveling gear that looked simple but well made. She cleared her throat, sent a swift mental plea to her god to sway the minds of these travelers to her side, planted her staff firmly in front of her, and spoke in a voice that showed days of disuse.

"Welcome to my forest. How may I help you?"