The journey from the isle that had captivated their attention took no longer than a day and a half at most. Isabella had been surprised when there were few boats willing or able to make the journey to what was left of Xexoria. It was only when she saw the coastline (after a harrowing night of clinging to the railing as storms lashed the sea) that she realized.
Xexoria was no longer what Isabella remembered, but an island. There could be no telling just how changed the country had become since the End but they had to try. Isabella turned to the captain, one hand shielding his weather worn face as the other held fast to the ship's wheel.
"When can we make port?"
"Port, lass? There is no 'port' on this god-forsaken island. I will set anchor and have my men row you to shore, but after that make the gods be with you. No one has bothered rebuilding after the End. There are tales of strange peoples wandering the inner island areas and of ghosts. The place known as Rivenfelde is haunted, miss -- if you don't mind my saying so."
Isabella nodded as she stared at the darkened splotch on the horizon.
"How long until we reach the island?"
"Half a day." The captain had learned the previous day not to pepper the group with questions. The beautiful red haired girl spent most of her time below decks with the lovely looking children, while the stunning brunette lurked above decks. The captain had feared that she might be lost during the night as a powerful storm raged over the sea between Xexoria and the mainland. He was under the assumption that losing her to any natural disaster would be horrible indeed. He wasn't sure why, but he figured the woman was someone vastly important, that he should remember her. His crew felt he'd gone daft, but he caught them staring at her longingly, as only men of the ocean might a goddess of the sea. She had never mentioned her name, but this was not the sort of crew that took the name of a patron, only their money.
Isabella remained cloaked, attempting to hide herself within the shadows of her hood. Her beauty might have been stunning at night, but it was phenomenal in the glaring sunlight. There had to be a way to tone down her looks, but Isabella had not had the time to figure that out. Vylrath wanted out and on his way. She barely knew how to control her powers, but each day she found new ways to control herself. She doubted she could have managed the control had she not been a High Priestess of Tempus where control was part of a daily routine.
------------
It had only taken two days, but as the long boat neared the rocky shore Isabella swore this could not be her same country. It looked so...different! Her eyes lingered to the children, Caela, and Vylrath. The children looked a little green and Caela fared no better. Vylrath looked like a strapping young lad, but he had hardly any of her coloring. Just how would she explain him away? She couldn't use the name Vylrath either, that was a known (and possibly still loathed) name in this country. Gaar seemed too gutteral and harsh -- but if he stuck with that name she would have to make do.
"Home sweet Home." Isabella smiled briefly from the confines of her cloak. She envied the children their freedom suddenly. It was a little too warm for her liking under the dark cloak, but she would not complain -- only endure. It was a trademark of hers, one which Vylrath slated to stubborness. Perhaps he was right. Isabella took a deep breath and when the long boat ground against the rocky shore she glanced up at the dark forest beyond the thin strip of beach. Just what would this new world hold for her? How could she possibly get this catastrophe on its feet once more? Why did she let Vylrath talk her into this mess?
As doubt loomed dark and forboding in her mind, Isabella was aware of the sound of departure. She watched as Caela handed the children over and then was helped over by one of the men. He was strong, the man, and he carried her as if she weighed nothing at all -- depositing her on the beach by her children. Isabella was dimly aware of a man asking a comrade to steady the boat for her imminent departure, but she shook her head.
"I can manage." Before anyone could object Isabella launched herself over the side of the boat. The water was ice cold and she almost regretted making the lunge. She trudged her way, sand and rock becoming the bane of her existence, as she staggered and nearly fell more than once. As she gained the shore Bella glanced around herself, her hood falling back to expose her gorgeous features. She was soaked from the waist down and had a myriad of men (from the rowing crew that brought them ashore) pushing blankets on her. She smiled but declined and looked at her family.
What am I doing here? Her brain refused to register any plan or scheme that might have brewed to fruition during their short journey. It was still early in the day and she wondered if they might be able to find some shelter before night fell in unfamiliar territory.
"Vy---Gaar." Isabella caught herself and grimaced a little as she walked toward her 'son'. This was going to take more concentration than she had bargained on. "We should move immediately. Do you know a way to find shelter?" It was a subtle hint that she was not sure what to do next, but would be willing to blunder through the forest until they happened across something or someone who could fix their immediate need. Surely there couldn't be a village too far off? Even if it was abandoned?
Isabella watched as the men piled back into the long boat and rowed back to the ship. As the ship set sail and lumbered on its way, she turned to her family.
"We had best get moving if we expect to have a place to sleep tonight or any type of shelter." They had provisions, packs, and everything that was required of a journey sans the horses and pack horses.