On the other side of a bridge of a stone road over a river at the eastern border of Sturreland, stood a girl, about to embark out into the world and on that girl’s shoulder sat a spider. Its name was Aaka and she was there to oversee the girl as she absolved her tests.

Nannade got out a letter she had been given. She had already read it sometime before but now it was time to properly plan her journey. It contained the conditions of her first test of moral commensuration. She had one year to finish three tests by specialists and return to bring proof. If she fulfilled them to the satisfaction of the Lodge’s highest circle of judges, then her punishment would be considered served and she would get her mark of approval. If she did not fulfil them, she would be executed. If she did not return at all, Elissa and Garrett would be executed in her stead and she be branded an abomination to be disposed of. For her first test, she would have to find the “forest of dreams” and talk to a body called “the embrace of dreamers”. Where this “forest of dreams” was and who this “embrace of dreamers” is, was not written in the letter.

“What are you allowed to tell me?” Nannade asked Aaka.

“Not much. I’m here to make sure that you can take these tests, as emissary of Black Surgeon and proof of your adequacy to take the tests to begin with. And also, to make sure you are reminded of your situation.”

Nannade seemed to get the grimness of that reminder. “This isn’t helpful, where is this forest of dreams?”

“All I know is that it’s east of here in a valley or basin.”

“Have you been there before?”

“Yes, but for a spider, geography is not important. We have no understanding of the concept.”

“Can’t you ask Black Surgeon for help?”

“Having proper conversations over distances is taxing.” Aaka thought the girl might have a wrong impression on her being at the girl’s side. “Also, don’t mistake his friendliness for charity or pity. He wants to believe you are worthy of success, but he will not help you, because it would disgrace his own word and sully his honour. He decided on these tests and people because they were the hardest. Any test but the hardest would not prove what he wanted you to prove: that you are worthy to live.”

“Well. I better stay on the road and get my bearings until I can ask for directions.”

The landscape was hilly but not too uneven. In the distance, the first mountains of a mighty range rose, that ran far into the east. It would accompany her travel for quite some time. Neither the girl nor the spider knew very much of this land. The girl’s interest lay further to the south and west of Sturreland and the spider had little use for information concerning such a vast distance.

Nannade set out on her journey down the stone road. She had a fast pace and passed a few people on the way. The road was a remnant of the sundered empire, called the Pliranti empire in its day, and was important to the little trade Sturreland had to the east. From the people on the road she found out that the next town would have a proper rest stop, but she wouldn’t get there before the day after tomorrow. She'd have to pitch her camp along the traders that also travelled the road. She didn’t have a tent, only a sleeping bag and a tough, large linen cloth she could use as a blanket or as a tarp. If she set it up with enough tension, it would shield her from the rain. She hadn’t been allowed to take very much with her. She was glad the Guardians left her 4 throwing knives. They were her present for her 13th name day from Garetas. He had ones of the same make. They had a broad, double-edged blade with a strong central ridge, a shank bent into a loop for her finger and cord wrapped around the shank to form a grip. She could use them as tiny shovels, as a spear tip, as tent pegs, as hooks and the cord as line when setting a noose trap, basically as everything she could imagine. Her travel gear was light and minimalistic, as Garetas had trained her, almost as if he knew she would one day have to go on such a journey.

The sun had set when she came by a group of circled wagons. She dared to step inside, to the camp fire in the middle. A group of traders, mostly men, sat around and told each other news and gossip. When they saw the small girl in the earthen-green cloak approach, they raised a collective eyebrow.

“Do you want to sit with us?” a short, broad man asked.

“Yes please. Do I have to pay?”

The round chuckled. “We might overprice our wares, but our campfire is free, girl. Sit down, tell us your name.”

She sat down. As she came closer and brushed her cloak back, some whispers were heard.

“My name is Nannade. Thank you for having me.” She said shyly

“What does one like you makes for far from the coast?” the broad man asked.

“Honestly I don't know. I grew up in Sturreland.”

“Well what do you look for at the end of the road?”

“I don’t know what’s at the end of the road.”

The round chuckled again. “It’s just an expression for what you look to reach or find on the road.”

“Oh.” The girl thought about it for a moment. “I'm looking for the forest of dreams.”

The broad man furrowed his brow. “What’s that?”

A tall man from the round man spoke up. “Some people call it the cursed woods or the neverwhere woods.”

The broad man got what he meant. “Oh! Why do you want to go there, little girl?”

Nannade slouched her shoulders. “I can’t really say.”

“You know they say no one can ever return from there, right?”

“Yes. Do you know how to get there?”

The mood in the crowd seemed depressed. “No one can really say and those who can probably won’t.”

Another man yelled “It doesn’t exist, girl. Somebody fooled you.”

Nannade was tired, but she still kept asking while eating her ration. “Can anyone tell me if there is a place of power nearby?”

“What’s a place of power?” the broad man asked. No one else in the round seemed to know.

“Never mind then.” Nannade remained silent and just listened to some of the stories being told, but her questions seemed to have depressed the mood somewhat. The stories the traders and travellers told were of difficult customers, dangerous delivery jobs, treacherous roads, and perilous journeys.

Aaka looked around. One of the men gleamed a bit, but he didn’t seem to know. A shame it was when a medium never awoke to their potential. But she was not here for that. No need to take unnecessary risks.

The man to Nannade's right spoke up. “Oy girl, by the way, you got a spider there on your shoulder!”

“Oh, really? Thanks!” she said and slowly lowered her hand on the spider. Aaka jumped between her fingers, and ran up into her sleeve. Not that it mattered how fast Nannade moved. Like any familiar, Aaka was much more resilient than her mundane counterpart, but she still appreciated the girl's consideration.

The girl tried to blend into the background, but she kept drawing looks from most people. After she had finished her rations, she got her sleeping bag out and went to sleep in an open spot next to one of the carts. She stared at the shadows on a cart’s side until she fell asleep.

They were awoken the next morning when the first carts began to move. A few people sat around the smoking remains of the campfire and ate breakfast. The girl sat down and got her rations out. A woman past her prime was washing out a pot when she noticed the girl sitting by herself.

“You’re that girl with the many questions, right?”, she asked Nannade.

The girl looked at her cautiously. “Yes, is something the matter?”

“A girl your age shouldn’t travel alone, let us take you eastward on our wagon!” the woman was smiling at the girl as a grandmother would at a grandchild. She had suntanned skin and her long curly hair started to turn grey. “My name is Clarina, but you can call me Clara, your name is Nannade, isn’t it?”

The girl nodded and swallowed a bite. “You mustn’t, really, I can take care of myself.”

“No no, I insist. Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay a single coat button.”

The girl finally reluctantly accepted and after she was done eating, Clara took her to a two-horse wagon with tunnel-shaped roof and walls, covered with an intricate patchwork of thick felt fabric in many colours, sown together with sturdy yarn. Some patches were older than others, washed and bleached by weather. A man, maybe 25 years of age maybe 20, was loading crates into the back. He had blonde hair and a badly shaven beard.

“This is my son Bernhardus. You can call him Benny!”

The man turned around to look at the girl. “Oh, it’s the one looking for the cursed woods.”, He turned to his mother. “Stop it with that name, we’re no longer in Sturreland, we’re in slavers’ country now.”

“All right then. We’ll use our full names, lest someone thinks we’re runaway slaves with their masters’ wagon.” the woman let a silly giggle out. The girl didn’t seem to feel like joining in.

“We’re traders specializing in cloth and fabric and all things like that. Do you like our wagon?” Clara slapped the cloth on the wagon and smiled proudly.

“It’s pretty.” said the girl, not sure where to start looking at the intricate stitching.

“My husband and I made it ourselves. It’s more than thirty years of work in here. But he is at peace now and my three daughters have married and settled down. Only Benny here to keep me company.”

“I tried getting her to settle down with one of my sisters, but she refused.”

“Your father died moving this wagon and I will die moving this wagon. Now get moving!”

Nannade did the least she could to load in the last crates and then they were off on their way. From the inside, the walls and roof of the wagon were woven like a basket and lined with crates, rolls of fabric and cabinets with lots of small drawers in turn filled to the brim with different threads, yarns, needles, sinew, nails, buttons, dyes and much more. Enough to vest an entire court. It was shady and cool and so the girl dozed off a bit, even though the stone road was jolty at times.

Benny was steering the horses while Clara sat inside and counted wares. “We will reach Kalonitz in ten, maybe a dozen days.” Clara had said at one time. “That’s where we’ll stock up and then return, all the way through Sturreland to the banks of the Daune. We’ll come through quite a few towns and villages, so you can ask a lot of people where those woods are.”

The travel went along easy and the weather was with them. Nannade decided to get her flute from the backpack and play a few tones. Benny and Clara complimented her, despite her play still being off many times. They didn’t stop for lunch, instead eating while driving on and in the evening, made stop at a travellers’ camp again.

Clara tried to be mindful and asked for anything on the cursed woods, or forest of dreams, or neverwhere woods, or any other name it went by on the girl’s behalf, but Nannade quickly told her that she’d do it herself if need be and to better keep quiet about it. Either way, nobody knew anything. Some people even believed it to be a fairy tale and told the girl about “real” magical places she should visit, like universities with especially high towers and grand halls or the bridges spanning the salt river.

The wagon had just enough space for the three of them to sleep on the floor and the girl was glad to sleep on dry wooden boards next to other people, rather than alone on the wet grass and dirt.

The next morning came and Nannade was awoken by Benny for breakfast by the embers and ash of the campfire. Nannade sniffed herself in disgust. During her confinement, she had been quite insistent on having a brush to clean herself with every morning and most evenings, but out here getting undressed every morning to brush herself all over was a luxurious act.

Benny showed her how to steer the horses that day. She was mostly sitting next to him and listening to his explanations, but after lunch, she got to hold the reins and whip and keep the horses on the road. She took to it quite well and it made her lighten up for a while, distracting her from brooding thoughts.

“Say, Nannade” Clara addressed her at one point. “Do you have a sweetheart back in Sturreland?”

The girl was struck out of nowhere by that question. “No, not really.”

“Then will you marry my son?” She smiled. Neither Nannade nor Aaka could tell whether the woman was serious.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for that.” The girl replied.

“Mother, would you please stop asking every girl we meet? It’s getting awkward.”

“Let me ask. You’ll never find a girl willing to wait months for you to return for a few days and this one is already holding the reins!”

Nannade interjected. “I can’t give your son any children anyway.”

“Oh I already have grandchildren. I just don’t want my son to be alone on this old wagon once I’m gone.”

“Mother, PLEASE.” Benny was visibly embarrassed. “Nannade, don’t pay heed to that silly woman.”

Nannade couldn’t suppress a giggle. Even Aaka found it amusing to watch the two play their little game.

They came through a town every second day at least, most of them were barely an assortment of huts a bit off the stone road. The two merchants tried to sell a few of their wares there and Nannade had a short look around, never outside the sight of the wagon. She was looking for something. A person who gleamed. Now that she was with the serpent, she could see a medium and tell whether they were awoken just as easily as Aaka or Faan. She had to keep the serpent suppressed at all times, she never knew when a medium might be watching her and get curious about the serpent’s eyes or any other part poking out of her spiritual body. She didn’t find anyone in particular and no one seemed to find her.

The days flew along. It was the fifth day of their travel, at another travellers’ camp. The round was again a merry mix of different people but this time, Nannade saw someone special. It was a large, bearded man with a songbird on his shoulder. The bird was instantly apparent to her as a familiar and the man gleamed as well. He wore a leather jacket dyed in orange and had colourful leather fringes. He looked at her several times and smiled. After the fifth or sixth time, the bird looked at Nannade and sang in a happy voice. “Why don’t follow us. We should talk.” Then the man got up and went outside of the circle of wagon and towards the hedges. When he came back, the girl was waiting at the wagons for him.

“So, you decided to speak, little girl?” he asked jovially.

“Yes. You’re a witch, aren’t you?”

“Yes, you could say that. I’m officially a member of the Siblings of northern Nisumskie, but I’m much rather a travelling helper. Scrying, soothsaying, healing, wherever I can. The name’s Bronislaw, this cute little birdie is Sreep, what’s yours?”

“Nannade, apprentice of the Lodge of Sturreland. I am looking for a place people call cursed woods or the forest of dreams. Do you know anything?”

“Apprentice? And already looking for the deep woods?” He seemed to consider for a moment. His merry face had turned contemplative and grim. “I don’t know if I should tell you anything. It’s dangerous.”

“I need to get there, but some people don’t even believe it exists and everyone else doesn’t know a thing. I also can’t find a place of power I might be allowed to visit.”

“Oh it exists, little girl. But sending an apprentice there by herself... Although... there was a peculiar little speck in your cowl earlier.” he raised a curious eyebrow. Aaka decided to come out and introduce herself.

“I am Aaka, familiar of Black Surgeon of Hozorcia. I am instructed to see this girl through her tests of moral commensuration. Please, let her at least pass you by unharmed.”

“Well then. But I don’t know very much, only that the deep woods are in a deep basin in the mountain range that runs south and east of here, the Impjasegi mountains. Most sources say it can only be found by those that are allowed in and every druid gets one call to go there in their live. If they don’t follow it, it will never come again.”

Nannade was at ease. “That does help a little bit. Thank you very much.”

“Now, please allow me to ask you a question.” the man’s face turned grim again. Nannade picked up on it and leaned just the tiniest bit away from him.

“Sure, what is it?” she said hesitantly

“What are you hiding in there? The spider isn’t your only companion, is it?”

Nannade looked around. No one could see them behind the wagons. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She got antsy and was most likely about to make a dash for it.

Aaka could hear a paper rip. Then she noticed Sreep wasn’t on Bronislaw’s shoulder anymore. She tried to warn Nannade, but something bound her, like she was trapped under a glass dome. The girl went stiff. She could no longer move or speak, but her eyes spoke of terror and regret. The man picked Aaka off Nanade’s shoulder, threw her in the grass, tucked the girl under his arm like a cask of ale and carried her far behind the hedges.