It had been many years since Alara had dressed in plain village clothes, but it only took her a few seconds to loathe the impractical fashion. The skirt was long, having no slits to allow for movement in combat. It was wide, but fell to her ankles, making her feel as though she would trip at any moment.

Lili, on the other hand, wore a dress that fell to her knees, flaring with the heavy material beneath the top skirt. It fit her well, but the black wool fabric of the dress looked stark on her compared to her usually bright clothing choices. She wore a shawl to cover the tattoo on her arm and had brushed her hair to fall across the side of her face. Much to Alara’s surprise, Lili looked like a presentable village woman. Her straight, bright hair somehow looked perfectly serviceable after days hiking through the woods.

Alara ran a hand through her own tangled hair, trying to make it lie flat. When that didn’t work, she let Lili twist it into a plait that hid the dirt and knots they couldn’t get out.

They stuffed their old clothes into sacks and handed them to Runeo and Quenti.

“So, if anyone asks where you’re from?” Quenti quizzed Alara for a third time.

“Hurazon. We’re Elena Ortiz’s daughter, Tera...”

“… and cousin, Isabela.” Lili finished.

“Good. Those two are so antisocial. I doubt anyone in Hurazon has even seen them.”

“We’ll meet back here with the clothes and head out,” Alara said. “We’ll need to skirt the village in case someone recognizes Quenti, but then we’ll be on the road and home free by evening.”

Rather than hit the village straight on, Lili and Alara headed toward the western path, planning to enter as travelers from Hurazon would. It wasn’t uncommon for people to visit different villages to look for bargains or different materials, and Alara just hoped that no one would question their knowledge of Hurazon.

She felt Lili’s energy shift as they entered. The dirt path turned to stone, and they passed the first few houses that sat on the outskirts. Alara remembered the town square from her trip here with Emaru and the councilguards months ago.

The road wound past a few more houses before it opened wider and into the central square. Alara barely recognized it from when she had been here last. It teemed with people, and stands lined the road, circling the fountain at the center.

Lili tensed as they set foot in the square, bumping by a few villagers as they walked. A small group of children ran by screaming, chasing after a small l’lama that seemed to have escaped from its family. It had a small pack on its back that was slipping off as it bounced along the cobblestones of the square.

Alara turned to find Lili no longer beside her, but instead chasing down the loose livestock. She caught the harness around its neck and laid a calming hand across its head. The animal danced impatiently on its hoofs for a few beats before calming down. The children stopped their chase and looked up at Lili with awed expressions.

“Thank you, Senya!” The oldest boy, no more than six years old, said with a small bow. He took the harness from the Arboreli’s hands, eyes cast downward in respectful reverence.

She gave a nervous smile, patting the l’lama on the head one more time before backing away from the children and making her way back to Alara. She was silent, but her shoulders seemed a little less stiff as they continued on their way.

“Let’s find a clothes vendor,” Alara said, and Lili nodded.

It didn’t take long to find a stall that fit their needs. A pile of cloth sat on the table, tipping precariously, with many pieces embroidered with bright yarn. Of course, there was nothing as gorgeous or intricate as the Arborelis’ bright designs, but it was still impressive. The duo ignored the beautiful pieces and picked out a plain pair of black trousers and a tan tunic with a simple black embroidery along the neckline and hem. They only cost three bronze pieces, a bargain compared to what they’d run in Cielo. As she paid the woman, her eyes caught on a set of hooded ponchos, woven from undyed alpaca wool.

“How much for those?” Alara asked.

The woman looked at ponchos. “Four bronze pieces each.”

Alara bit her lip. “I’ll pay twelve pieces for four of them.”

The woman frowned and shook her head. “Too little. Fifteen pieces.”

Alara shrugged and backed away, waiting for an extra beat as she turned.

“Okay, okay!” the stall woman conceded. “Thirteen pieces.”

Alara let herself smile before turning back. She counted out the bronze pieces, noting how few she had left after the exchange. Lili balanced the new clothes in her arms, thanking the woman with an enormous smile.

Before they left the square, Alara bought some roasted corn wrapped in cloth with another bronze piece, unable to resist the smell as they walked by. Having lived off of fish for the past few days, she knew Quenti and Runeo would appreciate the change.

As pleasant as the side quest had been, Alara felt a weight lift as the sounds of the market faded behind them. She gave Lili a tight smile, relieved that the plan had worked.

“Lara?” a gruff voice called from behind them. It wasn’t one Alara recognized, but against her better common sense, she turned at the sound of the nickname. No one had called that her since she was a child.

An older man stood a few paces behind her, his eyes widening. Alara squinted at the vague familiarity of the man. Had she met this man the last time she passed through with Emaru?

She took a step back, blood rushing from her face. “Who are you looking for?”

“Lara. It’s Yaime—I’ll admit I’ve aged since we last saw each other.” He shook his head and stepped toward her, a hand outstretched. Alara stopped herself from backing away as he placed a rough palm on her cheek. “Sol, I thought you were dead. Killed in the raid.”

“I… don’t know you.” Alara said. She had gone rigid on contact. “I think you have the wrong girl.”

The man’s face somehow sagged even lower as he stepped back. “It’s been a long time, but I thought you would remember. I helped raise you, child. Taught you how to climb trees,” he looked over at Lili with an air of suspicion, “and I taught you and your mother other things.”

Alara frowned at the secret she didn’t seem to quite understand. She searched her brain trying to remember the man’s face, but her memories from before the Haven were smeared and blurry.

“If you were in my village, how did you survive the raid?” Alara asked, eyebrows furrowed.

He shook his head, eyes sad again. “I had left town to visit my nieces in L’lim. I didn’t return here until weeks after. The village was in ruins and…” His voice choked off.

“Here?” Alara said, her pulse quickening.

It was his turn to look confused now. “Yes, I returned from my visit.”

“I’m from Attalea?”

“It wasn’t Attalea at the time.”

Alara felt a warm hand on her arm and faced Lili. She wondered what the bruya saw in her face. Her mind raced back to her studies in the Haven. Attalea was a fairly new town. But could she really…?

“Where did you end up? How did you survive?” The man was moving toward her again, hands reaching out as if to grab on to her.

Alara stumbled back. “We need to go.”

“But—” The man stopped short, his hands grabbing the air in front of him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember you. I need to go.”

With that, she whipped around and started back down the path out of town. She was running, stumbling blindly over the cobblestones, slowing only when the path turned to dirt. She veered off the road and into the trees, slumping onto the root of a tree and letting her head fall against the mossy trunk.

She sat like that for a few minutes, her eyes closed. Her thoughts raced, settling on nothing in particular. Nothing useful anyhow. She said nothing when she felt Lili’s presence beside her, the root bending under the weight of the other woman.

Lili placed a finger on Alara’s wrist and the magite felt her heartbeat slow as the adrenaline drained away. She only opened her eyes when she was sure the tears had cleared.

“Are you okay?” Lili's voice was soft.

Alara nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I… reacted so much.”

“Thinking about the past can be hard. Confronting things we don’t want to remember, even harder.”

“I don’t know why I don’t remember him. I can’t even remember what town I was from. How stupid can I be?”

Lili patted Alara’s hand. “The trauma of death can warp what we choose to remember. You lost your parents in a violent way. That can take a toll on any child’s memory.”

Alara looked at Lili with sharp eyes. “It was bruyas who did it, you know.” She had always suspected on some level that her captors had been responsible, though she had never verbalized it. “Are the Arborelis the only bruyas in this region?

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

Alara’s lips tightened, her eyes focused on the bruya’s in front of her. “Yes.”

Lili’s face paled at the accusation, but she held Alara’s gaze. “I don’t know. I don’t remember any raids destroying a village in the past decade, but tensions have always been high between our people and yours. And there are always rogue groups, even among us, who choose violence over peace.” She broke eye contact and looked out into the woods. “I wish I could promise you it wasn’t us, but...”

Alara felt the sharp sting in her eyes again and stood up abruptly. She gave a nod. “No matter. We have a job to do.”

Lili smiled weakly, not quite reaching her eyes, but she too nodded and rose, picking up the clothes draped along the root.

“Let’s get back to Quenti and Runeo. I’m looking forward to the corn. I can still smell it.”

Alara nodded and followed Lili as they walked deeper into the woods, keeping to the wildlife trail they had taken originally.

Quenti and Runeo were waiting, pale-faced and nervous, when they came to the small clearing. Runeo jumped up, eyes darting between them.

“What in Sol’s name happened? You both were gone too long!”

“We weren’t that long.” Lili threw the clothes at him. “Just change and stop whining. We can head out now.”

“Are you okay?” Quenti asked Alara.

“Everything’s fine,” Lili answered before Alara could even register the question. “And she was kind enough to buy us ponchos. And corn!”

That last line helped snap Alara out of her trance, reminding her of the mission at hand. “They have hoods. The ponchos, not the corn. They’ll help to hide our faces if we pass by any people that may recognize us.” It was cool enough in the mornings and at night that no one would find the hoods suspicious.

Runeo didn’t bother to duck behind a tree while he changed, only turning himself away from the others. Alara averted her eyes, but noted the matching smirks on Quenti and Lili’s faces as they watched.

“Ready,” Runeo said, turning around.

Alara absently ran a hand along the ridges of her scar. “We look good, I think. Properly boring. Once we get on the main road, it’s only a few days’ trek.”

Runeo was walking before anyone could respond to Alara’s statement. No one moved to follow him and he made it a few yards away before he whipped around. “What are you waiting for?” he snapped.

Alara gave him a bright smile before turning the opposite direction. She looked back over her shoulder. “It’s this way.”