The next dawn seems to come slowly for Lyse. He was used to staying up for more than one day; he can function at his best by the third night most of the time. Gabbes once had him and few others wander around the village walls and through the forest searching for something he had hidden. That was before he learned to sense aura; otherwise, he would have found the bird egg hidden under a rock and buried about a meter deep. He did not let them rest, and they had to fill in any holes they made in their search. He slept well that night, although Massua complained he smelled like the barn animals. However, training with his mother was a whole different strain on his body; he was not quite prepared for it.

At first, it was simple to handle. Channeling the pendant's power didn't get any easier, but the struggle he went through became more like a routine. Soon, he'll become better at that routine. But the power slowly sapped him of energy every time he made a seed grow into either grass or a sapling of some tree. None of it grew any more than a pinkie's length, and every time his mother would give a holding look, smacked the young plant out of his hand, and barked at him to keep trying. He wondered if she really wanted him to grow a forest purely from just thinking about it. He wasn't getting any better, despite the visual lessons he was given, taking in the air and connecting to his roots as a farmer. Constantly tapping into the power of the gods got only harder, the harder he tried. And he couldn't just surrender completely. Who knows what would happen then. His mother explained that the power could take up a personality of its own and try to use him, inhabit him. The thought was harrowing, and as she warned, didn't help him focus at all.

She also told him more, as she continued making the back of his hand and scattering dirt around them, of the other abilities he could learn. The pendant was more like a series of doors, each leading to a seemingly endless amount of power for him to tap into. But, opening the doors is like opening a window in the midst of a massive storm. Closing it is much harder than an opening, and you could be dragged out the door without protection and without the ability to navigate the storms. She then explained that because he had spent so much time wearing the pendant, that he is far more capable of controlling it than she had been. It is less likely he would be sucked into the storm as he is now. But he still has a long way to go before he can do any of the wondrous things she had described beyond the minor effects the pendant put on his body and mind.

Before he knew it, the horizon was lightning, signaling the coming sun that will rouse everyone from their sleep. Lyse almost couldn't believe that he had been at it all night long and couldn't believe how tired he was. He never felt this ragged in a long time, at least not since the dungeon. His hands ached, and he felt like his veins were freezing in his arm. He held a flower between his hands, the bud not open, but a soft yellow and white color ready to be revealed. Again, it was smacked out of his hands, and the flower fell and slowly withered away like it had been cut off from its only source of nourishment. He didn't have the energy to complain or react, he felt sapped away, and the pendant only glowing from his efforts. His mother stood then, shaking off the flakes of bark and dirt, and turned to the group slowly stirring awake uphill.

"You're making excellent progress," she told him. "But you'll need far more if we are to fight against Talin."

"Are you sure a few flowers will take out a Talin Warrior?"

"They are called the Makhai, and no. If you can master this power, it will be easier to teach you the others. The power of nature is powerful, as you should know. We'll do this every two days from now on."

He sighed, looking up at the two moons hovering over him. The belt of spelled white that hung around him touched from horizon to horizon and made the two moons seem like buttons on a ribbon. Looking up at the stars makes him feel smaller, always. Just knowing how little he knows of the world gave him this effect. And with the gods, there was yet another world to picture and learn. This was a dilemma on its own, the gods.

By the time he decided to join everyone else, the sun's disk had rosed over the horizon and spread its sheets of light all around them. The Coach's horse and the driver were rising to life down the road and preparing to ride on, everyone putting out their campfires. Their group took extra care to dismantle their camp, ensuring there was no sign of them being there. Everything was packed and ready to go, and the road was once again open to them.

The first few hours of the day were sometimes the most chilling. Because of the long shadows cast by the low hanging suns, many creatures still lurk along the road to capture passing herding deer or perhaps an early traveler. They kept an eye out and their senses sharp. At least everyone but Lyse. He could barely focus on his map, much less trying to sense anything beyond a few paces away. His mother suddenly ran ahead, and by the time they had caught up, she was stomping on the head of a basilisk, tossing its lizard-like corpse off the trail with a satisfied look on her face.

"We'll be seeing more basilisk as we enter the taller grass," Celia panted. She wiped her gauntlets with a rag, the green blood buddling on its surface as if trying to corrode it away. "Tallgrass is dangerous."

"We should reach the river by tomorrow night," Lyse yawned.

"Did you get any sleep?" Elena asked him.

"I'm fine," he told her. "I'll be okay, just a slow start to the morning, I guess. We can't stop because I am tired anyway."

A few hours into the day, the riding became smoother, and Lyse could concentrate more on smaller details of the map. The hilly area near the river was also full of small forests that blanketed both sides, which means they'll be entering into far more dangerous territory at that point. There should be outposts where Knights stood guard and helped travelers through, which should be more than enough to make it through without a scratch. If they met any larger creature, only then will things be a dice game. He wondered what plan the two guildsmen had in mind for dealing with such. He was pondering this until one of the two, Wendel, rode up beside him and Celia, that same annoying expression etched into his face.

"My Lady Mirthia would like to speak to you, Colt Mires" the words barely left his lips in a low ruble before he whipped his horse around to join his colleague. They all looked at each other, silent and confused as if waiting for something else to move for them.

"Why would they be asking for me?" Lyse asked.

"Perhaps they want to buy you away from me," Elena snorted.

"This is getting out of hand," Gray nearly groaned. "Maybe we should just tell them that we are just knights traveling?"

"And the moment we hit the next city, our descriptions will be told at every tavern and bar," Lyse told him. "No, I rather have it we are simply some guildsmen hired, not even worth a description."

"Good look with that mister fairy tails, cause they have their eyes on you now," Edlund laughed. "Don't worry; I'm sure that it is nothing. Just get out as soon as possible. The longer you stay, the harder it will be to leave."

Lyse frowned but ultimately took those warnings to heart. Celia didn't say anything as he dismounted his horse and handed the reins to Edlund. She couldn't sense any malicious intent behind these women's actions, but she felt the urge to be by his side to protect him. But he was a man, not a boy. She may help him in training, but in unimportant tasks such as this, he should be more than capable of protecting himself in any capacity. She watched him walked back to the coach, the coach stopping only momentarily to allow him in before his figure disappeared into the curtained doors. She had a faint whiff of perfume as the doors shut behind him.

The coach was bigger than Lyse had expected. He stood just outside of it as it stopped before him. Windel and Liam, with impatient glares at him, stood by a few paces away, seemingly prepared to unsheathe swords and attack if he posed even the slightest threat. He took a deep breath. He still had his sword at his side, if any of this turned out to be some elaborate trap, but nothing seemed to give off that suspicious tick he would have expected. He knocked on the cart's door, and only after the second knock did it openly. It wasn't by any woman in some fancy dress, as he expected, but a plate armored woman holding what looked like a hammer on her lap. Her green eyes slowly pierced him before stepping back and sitting back down. Choppy short hair clung to her head and not passing her ear, allowing a star along her scalp to be easily visible. Inside, sitting opposite to her, were two women in dresses, smiling patiently at him. Or, more like appraising him from what he could tell.

"Greetings, Colt Mires," she gestured to the seat next to the armored women. Her voice was smooth and charismatic, like many noble children talked as they got older. "Please take a seat. I believe we have a discussion before us."

He took his seat, carefully positioning his sword so that it wasn't in the way of anything and he could draw it quickly. Both of the noblewomen looked similar, but one was clearly older than the other. A mother and daughter. They both had braids wrapped in some green fabric, the same trend he saw in Silondras, and matching verdant green dresses made for travel, but luxurious. The daughter had a more distant stare, as if not looking at him but past him. She squinted in his direction as if trying to capture something tiny.

"You have blond hair?" she asked him. There was little formality, and it was an odd question to ask. But Lyse nodded.

"He said yes, my dear," lady Mirthia said, putting a hand on her's. She turned back to Lyse. "My daughter is blind, so please be sensitive in your actions."

"I'm not fully blind," she protested in the general direction of her mother. "I can vaguely see shapes, you know. But finer details and some colors are hard to distinguish."

"Yes, yes," her mother said impatiently. "You see, that is why we are heading to this city, Colt. There is a doctor there who appears to be able to cure blindness. Isn't that amazing? The journey has been long, but well worth it."

Lyse waited a few seconds to make sure they won't make another comment before finally speaking. "May I ask something that could be sensitive, Lady Mirthia? What caused your daughter to go blind?"

There was a slight dip in that polite smile, but she did answer. The daughter did not seem to respond beyond an uncomfortable shuffle of her feet and rub her eyes with her sleeve.

"Well, my daughter has always been adventurous," she said. "Always sneaking out with friends and such. Fate caught up to her in the form of a basilisk. Spit venom in her eyes. The doctor got to her before any major damage, but ever since, she has been slowly losing her vision."

"A basilisk," Lyse repeated. He had heard that the venom is lethal if injected directly into the bloodstream. Some of the most dangerous variations, mostly seen in the Barrens, can completely turn people into stone at merely a glance. Blindness is actually mercy. "I see."

"Yes," the mother gave an unconcerned sigh. "Maybe this would motivate her to be less . . . adventurous."

The daughter kept wisely silent, but it was Lyse who began the next discussion.

"I am truly sorry for what happened to your daughter," he said. "I'm quite adventurous myself, and it has left me in . . . interesting places. But is this the reason you called for me? I doubt this is a matter concerning a guildsman."

"Indeed," Lady Mirthia said. "Actually, it was Pheobe who asked for you."

"I heard your voice from outside," she said, almost in a hurry. "I just wanted to speak to you. I don't have enough chances to interact with guildsman, and Windel and Liam aren't much for conversation."

"You are right," lady Mirthia's eyes suddenly turned to much more like a predator, a feline stalking something quite curious, and was during up a way to approach it in the right way. Lyse did not notice, but by instant, he put up a guarded, blank expression. He felt exposed again, sitting just a few feet away and a sword, not in hand.

"How much to buy you away from your employer?"

The question immediately shattered his attempt of stoicism, and he was left with a gain mouth and confused expression. "What? Employer?"

"You want to hire him?" Pheobe asked, not out of surprise, not at all. But more, like he just said she was going to pick up some fruit from the mall. "Mother, please have some decency. I don't know what he looks like. We don't need any more young men on our estate."

She seemed to ignore her but leaned closer to him till their faces were a foot apart. He could feel the grip on the guard's hammer tighten. Lyse couldn't respond. That appraising look was freezing him in place. He felt naked before her as her eyes penetrated even his mind and characteristics. And the guard beside him looked ready to smash his head in if he even flinches the wrong way. He could only look and hold his breath as she took in everything about him. His clothes, his hair, and his eyes. She took in his sword, the ornate hilt. She even seemed to monitor the way he breathed. It was like he was livestock or a prized bull ready to be sold off in the next auction.

"He's handsome," she said appraisingly. "From the way, he talks he has manners. Sort of like a noble in some ways, but a little rough around the edges. Those hands looked used to handling a variety of rough things. Tell me, were you always guildsman, or was there something before?"

Lyse frowned. This was becoming a waste of time now, and he was desperate to find any way out of here. Any suspicion he had of these two were out the window. This means they truly are just some travelers on the road then. This woman, Pheobe, seemed more mild-mannered than her mother. But she seemed to hold back a killer tongue. She reminded him of Massua that way.

"My employer would not appreciate me releasing that sort of information without her permission, I'm afraid," he was trying to be polite. Still, she seemed to take that deliberate tone as a sign of conversational weakness.

"Oh, then you are her lover then?"

It was like whenever he tried to get a footing, he was immediately knocked down again by an even greater force. Lyse could not tell if he was blushing, but he felt his face grow a bit warm from the accusation. Lady Mirthia sat back down in her seat with a grace that exuded a confident victory. He was ill-prepared for a foe such as this. He hasn't even romantically looked to Elena, but the situation was off-putting in a way he was not anticipating.

"I believe you have the wrong idea, Lady Mirthia," he tried to remove the waver in his voice. "I was hired just as a guard for a short period of time. The accusation of me being some sort of . . . comforter for Lady Rosenwald would be an insult to her as any compliment to me."

"Oh, really?"

"Mother," Pheobe's voice was going from pleading to a warning. If she old glare accurately, she would be shooting daggers. But it turned more polite when he turned back to Lyse. "Please excuse her. She can be quite the talker when she spots anyone with a hint of interest. I hope you do not think less of us after this talk. I just haven't had company in some time, and I was hoping you could perhaps keep me company."

Lyse was a bit surprised. "Keep you company? Me?"

"Where are you from?" she began, making sure she had the initiative over him. "You must be from Liontari as well, no?"

His frown only deepened. Not because he was frustrated by his situation, but the fact that he was not out yet. But she truly only wanted a conversation. What harm would it be to humor her at least a bit? It was hard for him to admit that she didn't want anything ill of him. It was even harder to think that she reminded him of Massua, more feeble and more desperate for a friend. He sensed that. She needed a friend to channel this pent up energy she had recently developed. Help her forget.

He smiled, a small smile as if he just had to admit defeat to a child. "I'm from a town called Broken Arrow, near the southern entrance to the Forest of Silence. I . . . was training to become a knight but failed and had to work at a farm for a bit. A guild was looking for new hires, and I accepted."

(X)

Elena watched as Lyse stepped into the decorative coach, stopping only briefly to take in whoever was inside before disappearing behind a closed door. She knew that she had nothing to worry about. He was a cunning and clever man, and he would be able to sniff out a trap if there really were one. But, she couldn't understand that feeling she had. Like something was wriggling in her stomach, so intensely, she placed a hand to make sure that her stomach wasn't indeed alive. She looked around to see if any of the others showed this openly, the closest only being Edlund, who's brow furrowed as he watched his friend go out of sight and out of his protection. Celia was stone-faced, staring intently like a poised lion, ready to pounce into action at any moment. But still, no one moved towards the chariot. They moved the horses along the trails the coach began to catch."

"Edlund, who is Lidia?" she asked Edlund.

Edlund seemed deep in thought and barely registered the question before answering perfunctorily. "Her noble family owned the farmland before Lyse's father bought it. They were a family of performers, and her mother was a singer who once lived in Torlak. We voted for her father to be our local lord. Lidia was born to be a singer. She really did have a beautiful voice."

The more he talked, the more focused his words were, and whatever he was thinking about evaporated into his eyes as he focused on her finally. "Why do you ask. Do you know of her?"

She shook her head. "So you were all friends. What was it like growing up with a noble."

"Why are you asking me?" Edlund asked accusingly. "I mean, it wasn't any different. We didn't know she was a noble till she and her mother sung at one of the harvest festivals. We've been good friends since then. We didn't see her any different than any of the other town children. Lyse seemed to make an effort out of it, even."

Edlund let out a rye chuckle at his last comment. Gray turned over his shoulder, a tired look still on his face from the morning, but eyes still as alert as ever. "If I hadn't of known Lyse, I'd say he sounded like an ass. It reminds me of the type of guys Elena used to be around. Of course, they were actually born nobles, so maybe that air doesn't exist amongst us common folk."

"Anyway, I wonder what exactly they are talking about," Edlund told them, fingering the hilt of his sword. "This could be a trap for all we know."

"Do you believe my son would fall for a trap?" Celia asked him.