They set out under the cover of darkness. A private farewell, Elder Yatsura maintained, because the affairs of one's Path were meant to be between an Elsinooran and his or her Creator, not the village at large. Still, Jian was heartened to find Gillele there to see her (or perhaps Madrigal?) off.

"I understand if you return with him as your life partner," Gil whispered knowingly in her ear. "Don't hold back on my account!"

Jian couldn't even spare a thought for such a thing. This man, this stranger, was a guide and nothing more. "Don't be ridiculous, Gil. He's all yours, if he does happens to come back here!"

The three Elders observed Jian's last moments with her mother and Gillele's bashful farewell to Madrigal with little commentary, though Elder Veila couldn't hold back a scornful sniff at Gillele's red cheeks and obvious embarassment. Madrigal, for his part, seemed nonplussed.

Mother drew Jian close, palms flattened at the small of Jian's back. "I may be selfish to say so, but I hope Maere doesn't choose to keep you, Daughter. I'm not ready to lose you so suddenly."

Jian didn't want to make promises she couldn't keep. "I hope I'll be back soon."

She imagined Mother alone in the little house, struggling to hang freshly-dyed winter wool blankets as they dripped, heavy with rinsewater. Forgetting that she hadn't eaten since breakfast, or foraging rarer materials on her own in the final days of the season, trying to stockpile for winter. Mother knew what it was like not to have Jian around to help, of course, after their year apart, but Jian knew she herself worried more than Mother did.

Mother put on a brave face, however; proud, if a little sad. She had of course known a day might come where Jian would leave their household of two.

Not for the first time, Jian wished the Creator had chosen a Path a little more in line with the life she'd been living so far. After all her visions, though, she could hardly deny that Maere had something very different in mind.

Elder Tuina seemed to sense Jian's hesitation. She drew Jian close with leathery hands, so close their foreheads touched. "Brave girl," she said. "Elsinoor will be waiting to welcome you home, however long you must stay away. We will take care of your mother."

"Thank you," Jian whispered.

To her left, Madrigal wore a bored expression, tapping an impatient foot. He seemed to look anywhere but at the gathering of women surrounding them, despite the attentions of Gil and wary glances from the two younger Elders.

The actions of Aselun drew Jian's attention, though the older woman held herself at such an angle that neither Mother, the Elders nor Gil saw Aselun take Madrigal's hand and press a small object into his palm, folding his gloved fingers over it. "For protection," she said, so quietly that only Madrigal and Jian could hear.

Odd that she would offer a token to the stranger rather than her fellow Elsinooran. Perhaps, Jian thought, Aselun was trying to protect her from Madrigal. None of the women here seemed wholly content with the idea of Madrigal accompanying Jian on her pilgrimage, yet none had spoken against it. Perhaps they felt, as Mother did, that it was still better for Jian to go with a stranger than by herself.

Did Aselun's gesture mean she trusted Madrigal more than the Elders did? Or did she mean it as a warning? Jian couldn't be certain. Madrigal's fist clenched around the unseen object, and he slid it into the pocket of his tunic. Aselun's lily-white hands lingered a moment too long on the man's other hand, but to Jian's surprise, her touch caused him to visibly relax. Some of the frown lines in his face evened out, and for a moment, he appeared much younger to Jian's eye. He stared back at the older woman, momentarily hypnotized.

Jian smothered a laugh. Aselun's striking violet eyes, just like the Goddess', could have that effect on people. If there was anyone able to properly warn Madrigal not to try anything funny while leading Jian south, it was Aselun.

"Off with you, then," Elder Veila said stiffly, looking as though she had just eaten a lemon as she observed Madrigal and Aselun. Her opinion of the handsome stranger was clearly several notches lower than the others, though Jian felt Elder Veila simply didn't like anyone at all. Jian had seen first-hand through the youngest Elder what it was like to be set on a Path one didn't much care for.

"Yes, I'll need to spend some time in the cave before I can rest." Jian's heart sang with the anticipation of returning to the place where she'd lived for so long, even as apprehension ate away at her resolve. "I'm sure I'll have another vision tonight, and I want to connect with Maere as best I can before I rest."

"Goodbye, then," Madrigal said gruffly, some of the lines returning to his face. "Thank you for your hospitality, Gillele."

"I can't wait to see you again," Gil responded, nervously smoothing her long brown hair. "I'll be waiting!"

He grunted and looked away. All three Elders frowned at the same instant.

Jian lifted her chin. She wouldn't let her last moments in Elsinoor be spoiled by Madrigal's poor character. "Goodbye, everyone. I'm sure we'll meet again soon."

"I hope so." Aselun's expression was creased with a worry Jian hoped Mother wouldn't see. "Fare well, Jian. Goddess guide you."

"Thank you, Aselun." Madrigal had already turned away, and Jian followed, casting what she hoped was a reassuring nod over her shoulder. "Until then, be well, Mother. Goddess guide you!"

"Goddess guide you," Mother echoed, her voice hitching.

Jian turned her gaze toward the road south, head held high. Anxiety crept into her chest and spread into her throat, paralyzing her breath, but she willed her legs to carry her out of sight, around the treeline, never once looking back.

Ever since the moment Mother put forth the idea of hiring Madrigal as a guide, Jian had feared what might, or might not, pass between the two of them on so long a journey. She wasn't wary of men, precisely, but she lacked experience with them. She'd known few boys in her sixteen years, and even fewer men. Adult men like Jian's father held roles in Elsinoor more closely tied to their own families; men were never educators or caregivers, craftspeople, or Elders. They were nearly always shown a partner Path with a woman and children, but often fathered many other children before taking vows to a partner. Once committed, the men distanced themselves from single women to move in nuclear circles within their family unit.

Until now, Jian had never been alone in the presence of an adult man.

She wasn't fearful, not exactly. Madrigal seemed standoffish, but hardly predatory. If anything, after rebuffing Gillele's advances so openly, Jian wondered whether he might be uninterested in women at all. He would hardly be the first, though of course, any man interested in another would inevitably see himself on a Path not quite to his liking. Maere's encouragement yielded favourable match-ups and often allowed male-male partnerships in their youth and among widowers, but two men in their prime choosing a life partnership would be unspeakably rare.

With only one man born for every four women, the Creator's hand firmly guided Elsinoorans toward family units that would yield children. In their small village, She could ill afford to lose the small population of males that brought about the next generation.

Could things be different, Jian wondered, in the place Madrigal had come from? She tried to catch a glimpse of his expression in the dark as they carefully navigated the overgrown trail to the river. In Pathless Laudonia, perhaps, there were so many males that one could freely choose another man as a life partner, or could strike out on a solo journey without worrying about caring for a family, as Madrigal had done. There might be no talk there of children as a necessity to further the village population, or of men whose Paths placed them in a life partnership with a woman, but who retreated to the camp together at Land's End in summer with other family men--Maere's encouragement for those who sacrificed for the sake of the village.

Madrigal might simply be a man of few words, but Jian welcomed the silence. She did notice his hand frequently creep to his tunic pocket, however, and the object that rested inside, given by Aselun. Each time he did so, the tight spool of Madrigal's shoulders seemed to unwind, if only a fraction.

"What did she give you?" Jian asked, if only to confirm she'd witnessed their exchange.

Madrigal jolted at the sound of her voice in the dark. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Jian kept her gaze looking ahead at the ground in the moonlight. "I was curious about what Aselun gave you. If it isn't a secret."

It might be a secret, she decided, when Madrigal did not immediately reply. "How much further is this cave of yours?" he asked.

"We're close, now," she said. "I can smell it. A natural shelter near water was an auspicious find, since in this part of North Isla, rivers and streams are so rare. It's very flat."

"It's the same where I come from."

"Almost like a blessing from Maere herself, to find such a perfect spot," Jian continued. When she'd first stumbled upon it, during the first month of her trial, she knew it was akin to an invitation to set up camp. That she needn't wander, but must instead settle, and create a space to connect. "Nobody told me about it, but when I walked inside, I knew many others had been there before."

"Ah."

"I couldn't guess how many generations of Elsinoorans might have been there before me. We don't discuss our Pathfinding publicly, usually, so I suppose I'll never know. But when I found this cave, so close to a water source, I knew it to be special."

"What would you do if you didn't find such a place?"

"I don't know," Jian said. "It was summer when I set out, so I simply walked, until I discovered it. I would have needed to set camp for the winter, somewhere, to be sure. It was a terrible winter last year. Without the cave, I might not have..."

Winter. When she thought back to it, dread welled up in her chest and seemed to settle into her very bones. A fear response that didn't seem to match reality. She had successfully wintered in the cave, and even thrived, thanks to its stolid protection. The coldest winter North Isla had ever experienced flew by thanks to her cave. The Elders had even worried to the point of sending out scouts equipped with blankets and medical supplies for the three young Elsinoorans who were mid-trial, though none had found Jian's camp. Mother had cried on the day of Jian's return, having thought she'd perished months before, undiscovered in the snow.

Yet life during the Trial had been easy, even boring; the days seemed to run together to the point where when the summer flowers emerged and it was time for Jian to return home with or without her Path, she felt shocked at how quickly it had come to pass. Winter and spring, shorter than any she remembered, had vanished in the blink of an eye. Time had lost its meaning.

Why, then, when she spoke of winter in the cave, did her breath hitch and her stomach roil so?