#directorstarweaver

[catisawells]

Pilgrimage: Part 2

    Bleary eyed and sore she groaned and looked around, the light of the sunrise had begun to peak into her room at the tavern. The poor girl had fallen asleep curled up in front of the door like she had as a child many a time. One thing was for certain, this trip had done little in the way of helping her scars heal. For now she pushed it out of her mind and opened her luggage to produce plain brown robes that would hide her form and her face with ease.

    Upon opening the suitcase something caught her eye. Set in the middle was a small ornate box that looked to be of Pandaren origin. Next to this was a folded note which she reached for first.

    To my Dearest Cat,

    I thought you might need some help to relax while you are away. You’ve mentioned little of your past, but from what I do know it has not been easy for you. I’m sure revisiting such things will not be pleasant, but I left you this as a reminder that even in the darkest of times you will still have something to return to.

    Sincerely yours,

    ~Dairon~

    A smile curled the corner of her lips upward as she was warmed by thoughts of returning back to the Estate already and simply laying in Dairon’s arms, though it was short lived as her reality came crashing back down once more. With a shake of her head she moved to clean up and get dressed in fresh clothing. Once more she recalled why she did not miss this life without magic, without those small conveniences offered by the Estate. Was she spoiled? Had she been too reliant on such things as servants and lavish quarters?

    Perhaps that was a thought to return to later. She straightened her hair in the mirror and took pause with a quirked brow as she regarded her reflection. The long flowing black hair and thinning features threw her off, she hardly recognized herself anymore. Not so long ago she was a naive young thing freshly discovering the world and now she was an Executive Assistant for the prestigious Violet Bastion and its Director who also shared the role of her mentor.

    “How time flies…” Catisa muttered to herself before she slipped out the door and locked it behind her. Fortunately, the crowd from the night prior had all returned home and were getting ready to start their day as she dashed across the dirt road to the Mayor’s office. The secretary greeted her with a smile and informed her that the Mayor wasn’t in yet, she was early. So she took a seat and waited inside the small cabin that was actually very humble looking even for such a small town, she noted. The woman at the front desk resumed filing her nails and paid her no mind until at last the rather rotund man bustled in only to stop dead in his tracks and stare at her.

    “Elise…?” He finally managed to sputter. With a shake of her head, Catisa rose and pushed the cowl free of her features.

    “Catisa Wells, at your service, Mayor Solomon. I understand you sent out a summons for my presence?” The aspiring sorceress greeted him with a curtsey and tried to ignore the fact that she had just been mistaken for her mother for the second time since she had arrived.

    “M-my apologies, Miss Wells.” The aging ginger quickly made way toward a door at the far side of the room, “Please, please come in. We have much to discuss.” At his behest she followed him into the quaint office and took a seat in front of his desk after she smoothed out her robes. She sat with legs crossed and her hands folded upon her lap with a faint smile upon her features, patiently waiting for the bumbling older man to get on with it.

    After several moments of settling in he picked out a file and began to look it over. “Ah yes, here we are. There are a couple of matters we have been trying to reach you about. The first of which being, ah, the matter of the will. Your father left everything in your name, my dear.” After he spoke he handed the parchment out for her to take and look over. “It wasn’t much, the land and house, which was all burnt down as I’m sure you recall.”

    “Don’t tell me you dragged me all the way down here for a will that we’ve already gone over, Mayor Solomon.” Catisa chirped.

    An audible gulp came from the man before he could manage to speak past the lump in his throat, “N-now, Miss Wells, please bear with me. Along with that was a matter of a bank account also with a meager amount, but still something you may wish to claim and it seems that your land has fallen under jurisdiction of a relief fund that has been issued. Since we couldn’t get word to you quick enough, I had to vouch that you still wished to keep the land in your family’s name.”

    With a sigh he leaned back in his chair and continued, “This saved it from being claimed by others to expand their own land. All that remains is for you to sign the deed to claim it. We’ve already begun reconstruction efforts and if you provide a means to contact you we can notify you when it is completed.”

    Catisa took a long moment to think this new information over and furrowed her brow, “This reconstruction. Everything doesn’t have to be the same as it was, does it?”

    “Well I’m not sure I know what you have in mind, Miss Wells, but we were only allocated enough funds to rebuild the structures and farmland that wasn’t too scarred by the plague. If you want anything in addition to that, we could discuss additional donations, but outside of that I’m afraid I’m unable to help. There is… one small matter, though.”

    A brow quirked on the woman’s features and she looked as though she could throw her hands up at any moment in frustration with the man. “Please, go on.” She deadpanned.

    “I mentioned we already started the reconstruction efforts… This includes clearing debris. Upon doing so we uncovered a basement that’s not on the original blueprints and had been kept fairly well in-tact. This is the reason we requested you reclaim any property you can in the wreckage, but the most concerning thing is that shortly after uncovering this the crews reported strange attacks. They found signs of something living down there, claw marks near the entrance and all the rations within had been opened and eaten. Even traces of its waste. There’s no telling how long it was trapped down there.”

    She practically burst out in laughter at the tale and echoed, “A secret basement?”

    “Miss Wells I assure you this is no laughing matter. People were injured. If you don’t believe me go see for yourself, but please be careful. Maybe take someone with you just in case it returns.”

    “Sure, sure.” Catisa cackled as she moved to sign the document for the deed that he had presented before she rose to leave and gave him a dismissive wave. “Thank you for telling me, Mayor Solomon. I won’t be in the area long, but in the future send all missives to The Violet Bastion.” The woman slipped her hood back up and darted back over to the tavern to retreat to her room. It was time for a nice hot meal and some of that tea that Dairon had snuck into her luggage.

    Somehow she had managed to get some biscuits from the tavern’s kitchen and used the room’s tea set to quietly brew the Pandaren blend. She sat in front of the window to enjoy her treats, when she caught another glimpse of herself in the mirror. A long time ago she had been shown pictures of her mother, long black hair like hers and the more her face thinned out the more she looked like her. Her father had never kept the paintings out for long, only when he brought them out to tell her about the mother she never got to know. They had all been lost in the fire since, but she held onto that mental image and understood why she was so easily mistaken for her.

    Suddenly motivated, she grumbled and grabbed the pair of scissors from the top of the dresser and began to cut away at the long raven locks, determined to sever herself from her past and all of its gloom. She was someone else entirely now and it was time she looked more like it.

@ronqueesha​ @arcanist-starweaver​ for mention!))