Kayrin smiled at the emerging stars, although they told her, she had steered the ship too much toward the South. She turned the tiller calmly, correcting their course. An Eglan steering a ship at the open sea. How wonderfully strange, she thought. Ameren or Sugar Plume as she liked to call her, appeared to be sleeping on the deck, she glanced at her briefly, imagining what sort of a woman she was. Skilled with words this Ameren was, and even sharper was her blade, or so she had told the Eglan. Kayrin herself had never been patient enough to master one trade. She was good at many things, but master at none.
If someone would've had enough time to get to truly know her they could’ve pointed out that her biggest skill was to escape attachments and obligations. She adored her freedom and evaded everything that smelled of duty. Yet here she was, steering Havaldr into his destination like she had promised.
An Eglan helping a foreign friend. How wonderfully strange, she thought. Very selfish had she been throughout the last half of her life. She had left her brothers behind, Kaidan, Liyam and the one that laid rotting in the bottom of the River Hoarwell. She had ran off with Crossan, only to leave him behind as well. One morning she had just gathered her gear again and silently she slipped away, never to be seen again by her lover that Crossan. Without a note she vanished into the morning’s mist. Partly because she couldn’t write, partly because she didn’t believe in half hearted excuses.
She traveled to Bree and met a cheery man, Alekay. He was seeking a blade for his travels and Kayrin was rarely a woman who’d utter ’No’ as an answer so together they traveled to Lake Evendim. The man had always wanted to see the lake, and such was as good reason as any to travel across the lands. Although Kayrin’s interests lied elsewhere, more precisely in the old ruins scattered across the area. Alekay, being a smart man was naturally aware of this interest.
Kayrin in her care-free demeanour had invited all sorts of passers by to tag along and eventually there were seven of them, two of them even Dúnedain. They ended up sleeping in the outpost of the descendants of ancient Arnorians, The High King’s Crossing. An Eglan sleeping in the outpost of the ancient Arnorians, with the ancient Arnorians around. How wonderfully strange, she had thought. So woderfully strange it was, that she didn’t eventually end up sleeping there that night. A particularly suspicious Ranger sniffed an Eglan scavenger through her thick surcoat. She deemed it wise to disappear into the night. After all, she was carrying their treasures in the dozens of small pockets hidden underneath the exterior layers of her coat. Despite her utterly optimistic and adventurous nature, she could sniff a certain death and evade it when necessary.
After losing the track of Alekay, she traveled about, selling her, more or less, miraculous treasures to whomever showed interest and on one of those days she ran into Naman. A strange man from Umbar with all sorts of pictures attached to his skin. She started to call him Drawing and together they repaired his ship, the one she was now sailing. The Crimson Sparrow, A beautiful creature.
She had quickly learnt to trust the man. A certain night had a major role in that. They had gone to see his ship and Kayrin had insisted on sleeping at the edge of a steep cliff near the shore. Some part of her was particularly daring that night. At the morning, midst her dreams she heard Na’man’s words, ”Don’t move.” She stirred and rolled on her back, only to fall into something that could’ve easily been her death, so steep was the fall. When her back met the water below, it kicked the air out of her lungs and the thoughts out of her head. She fell unconscious, sinking. If there hadn’t been Na’man she would’ve died. He had dragged her onto shore and after gagging the water out of her lungs she had laughed, and then she had merrily limped through the next three weeks of bone gnawing back ache.
Nothing better than a good near death experience, she thought to herself. She had experienced more than a dozen of them, some of them more amusing than others. Those near death moments had taught her a lot, she had come to understand the nature of life. The spark within every being was fragile and fleeting. She had learnt to embrace life and every moment like it’d be her last. So when she was ordered to raise the sails, she did so with a smile. When she was ordered to scrub the deck, she did so with a smile. And when she was ordered to steer the ship while others slept, she did so with a smile. She loved every moment of her life like it’d be the last.
