“Not all those who wander are lost.”

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

The carriage clattered on the ill-kept road. Deep ruts marred the surface where countless wagons had carved the graveled dirt. ‘All roads lead to Kronenburg.’ Who was it that said that? There was an old saying some sailors still use, it once referred to Allisair the center of the human sphere of influence. How did that go? ‘All currents return to the cradle?’ Something like that.

Alyssa leaned on the wooden side of the carriage, her thoughts restless while she looked outside into the gathering dusk. The day had been spent gaining distance, it was all a chase again. ‘Will we ever stop running from something?’ Mireille had claimed her lap again, she did not really know what to make of that. She felt a deep affection for the small impulsive redhead and thought her the sister she never had, for Alea, she had begun to feel something similar, but more as an elder sister looking out for a younger sibling. Warmth filled her heart.

Rocking with the motions of the carriage she regarded the sleeping girl opposite of her. She looked pale and stressed even while asleep. The small spider hung on her shoulder motionless, the blindfold was immaculately pressed and folded. She wore a dark blue-grey dress with a high collar and a long skirt. The small feet were clad in polished boots of soft leather. A girdle made of interlocking silver links accentuated her narrow waist.

The memory of a multifaceted stone in an empty eye socket came unbidden. ‘What happened to her, that no healer could help her?’ The surroundings were forested again, but the forest was young and clearly cultivated. There was nothing of the thick undergrowth that was the usual sight in the Fernwood. A pang of homesickness surprised her. ‘Who would have thought that I would miss that sorry place?’ But it was more nostalgia than homesickness and the thought faded quickly. Hooves sounded from behind the carriage where Maximilian kept watch. Without the mercenaries, they had only themselves and the mysterious coachman, Adam, for protection. Luke did not really count. She silently apologized to the shy servant. One hand went to her belt and caressed the small jeweled wand.

If even Vanessa thought it a danger then it should be highly effective. The widowmaker rod- a contraption that used crude arcane might to focus a blast of elemental fire was spent and could only be recharged at an enchantment workshop and they better have at least a journeyman enchanter for the potentially dangerous procedure. She sighed.

Her hand moved nearly without conscious thought and stroked the red hair of her friend who murmured contentedly in her sleep. ‘That is so like her. Hair as soft as down and she does nothing with and for it. If people knew they would be cursing her the region over. She is like a cat.’ She grinned. A moment where she was not in acute danger and her friends were with her, she should not complain.

A fire of ambition ignited in her chest. ‘Kronenburg, Academy, watch out, I will be the best you ever saw!’ Giving a self-deprecating grin she vowed to herself to do her utmost and to use the many chances she had been given.

The tone of the wheels clattering over cobblestone alerted her to a change in the surroundings. Pulling back the curtains again she saw that they were rolling into a small town, the walls old and in ill repair, but the houses looked prosperous, times of peace had brought neglect for the trappings of a more warlike age. ‘I hope you never experience a need for that again. Meloris bringer of order, Light of Civilization, Keeper of the past, keep your children save.’

Woodframe houses lit with candlelight, one or two even sporting magical illumination glided past. The hooves and rolling wheels echoed through an empty gatehouse. Smoke rose from countless chimneys and laughter and loud conversation could be heard from the neighborhood pub. The evening traffic was light, so they made good time and arrived before a fine-looking inn. A sign with a large cauldron hung from a metal rod on two chains, above the cauldron, three frogs were holding onto a big stirring rod and looked to be deeply immersed in cooking. The name underneath read ‘The three Frogs’.

‘Mh. What story might lurk behind that strange name.’

Asandria stood to her left and looked out the other window, the movement and the irregular bumps in the road did nothing to discommode her. As she sensed the regard she turned. Black, lightless spaces, where eyes used to be, gazed into her own. ‘Do you have a question?’ the ethereal voice of her sometimes-mentor sounded amused.

“No, I have a request for you, but let's wait until after we have settled for the night.”

‘Then I will await your pleasure.’ The murmur seemed to come from the shadows around her.

Stiff and painful she righted Mireille and then got up herself. The former gave a mighty yawn and rubbed her eyes. “Are we there yet?” She grinned mischievously. “As I slept through most of the boring parts of the journey I have to say it at least once. It's tradition!”

Alyssa smiled and leaned against her for a second. “Keep being silly and see where it gets you. Next time I will exchange the pillow for a wooden board.”

Maximilian opened the door at this time and leaned inside “We have arrived at the Three Frogs. It's an old and storied establishment so I hope for good accommodations and security. I will leave Adam with you and will try to hire some new guards.”

“Do you want company or support when doing that?”

“No, I will manage. I am your soon-to-be senior after all.” He grinned, but exhaustion from the long days riding showed clearly in his countenance.

“At least take Adam. When we are sitting together in the inn's taproom I can't imagine that they would be so brazen as to attack us there.”

Maximilian hesitated. “Ok, I will try to make it quick though. But Old Adam is a household name and it might be easier getting talent with him at my side. So take care with my sister and your friend. Lorelle will be with you too, though if that is reassuring or a risk remains to be seen.”

Alea had been woken by the conversation and discreetly yawned behind a handkerchief she had drawn from a pocket. Cyrus who had been sleeping on the small oven and seemed to have taken a liking to the charred iron, flapped his wings, and settled on her right shoulder while trying to nip Mireille's ear.

“Hey, you overgrown newt. Try that again and it's lizard soup for tonight's starter.” She grinned and stroked his snout while keeping clear of his -not-so-tiny anymore- teeth. Alyssa had begun to feel his weight in the past few days, or was it her imagination? But he did seem a bit bigger.

Exiting the carriage she stretched. People attired in dark clothes denoting the common fashion of well to do townsfolk strolled down the street, men in coats of brown or dark grey with boots that bore a silver buckle, if they could afford it, the women wore pale blue or red, pink if they were young enough, with lace sleeves and a lace decolletage. The hair was worn long to show that one did not need to scrimp on its care. Both genders wore hats, the more elaborate the better, with veils and feathers, with small jewels, and even, for the highly affluent, magical decorations, lights, or even small illusionary flowers.

Alyssa felt out of place, even though her clothes were better than most, but she realized that she had never been in a ‘real’ city. Three women who were looking their way giggled behind a decorated fan and looked at her with ridicule. She could nearly hear their words ‘Look, a country bumpkin has wandered into our city and see how lost it seems, gawping at every commonplace sight. Seen enough? Then shoo, shoo back to your stables and muck.’

She straightened her spine and spoke some arcane words, a sphere of light ignited above her right hand and illuminated the surroundings shadowed by the looming buildings and the setting sun. Cyrus hissed, sensing her displeasure and unease. With her left hand, she helped first Mireille and then Alea to exit the carriage. The dark form of Adam gave a nod towards them and then drove the vehicle to the stables out back behind the inn while Luke did the same with the other one.

With grim amusement she took note of the newly cautious bearing of the three ‘ladies’ as they crossed to the other side of the street, having seen a highly interesting shop it seemed.

Entering the inn she was greeted by a smoky but fragrant atmosphere, some older townspeople were sitting around a round table, drinking and playing different board games.

There were some travelers, clearly distinguished by clothing and mannerism sitting farther in the back. She saw three dwarves who were drinking a clear liquid out of big glasses clearly meant for a less potent beverage. There was an elf stringing a wooden instrument that looked like it could have come from her dream of the orchid palace, a cross of a harp, and a violin?

Two snake-folk merchants sat alone in a corner with two slaves attending them, the one facing the door saw Cyrus and excitedly alerted his companion. She remembered with distaste that this was legal in Margrinar if not in Rivenlorn, a relic of the Andrian rebellion. This tolerance was a holdover from the first centuries on the mainland where humanity tried not to provoke the more numerous and powerful elder races. She remembered an old text in a history book of her mother, ‘As a human, you cannot own another human, but if you are from a nation where such is permitted you can own other people if you are not of human descent. If you want to become a citizen of this nation (Margrinar) you would have to forgo the possession and usage of slaves.’ And even that was open to interpretation, debt-servitude was only one example like what the madam had threatened her with, and out in the wildlands might of arms or magic was the only law.

Mireille had a bright smile and looked around curiously. “The board game looks fun. Let's go and ask if we can join!”

“No, let's get something to eat, please, I am starving for good food. The trail bread we had left was not even remotely satisfying.” Alyssa protested, then she grinned “Isn't that your part? Complaining about the food?”

“It's a time-honored tradition for soldiers to complain about the food! Has to be done.” The redhead hooked her arm through her protesting friends’.

Alea looked on in tired amusement. “If you are finished with the comedy skit let's go and get a seat and something to eat. Lorelle if you would?” The last was addressed towards the last person in the group the white-blond maid.

“Yes, mistress. I will order food right away. Any requests?”

Getting only noncommittal answers she went over to the reception and bar to converse with a corpulent man with red fleshy cheeks, wearing an expensive-looking apron of purest white who gestured towards a free table in the back. Barmaids busily filled tankards and brought plates of steaming food to the tables. It seemed to be a busy evening.

Wooden columns held the high ceiling where smoke from the many pipes gathered and roiled among the usual glow globes. ‘Should be quite the business producing those.’ Alyssa mused.

As they took their seats Lorelle came back, “I have ordered as you asked and secured lodgings for us. It was my understanding that you three girls preferred to sleep together?”

Before anyone could say something to the contrary Mireille interjected. “Yep, that's exactly right.”

Alea seemed conflicted but nodded in the end. And for just a second she had a relieved smile on her face.

The food arrived shortly after, a buxom maid of twenty-something years brought two plates heaped with soup, bread, cheese, some stew, and sausages. This was accompanied by watered wine and beer. Alea scrunched her nose and asked for some milk which Alyssa seconded.

Mireille grabbed a glass and drank some of the watered wine, she then made a face “Sour!”

“Watered wine is often a bit sour. But if you want you can have some milk too.” Her purple-eyed friend generously offered.

“As if! I will drink it and be that much more an adult. Come children, drink your milk!” She laughed.

Even Lorelle had to smile a bit at that. She was very nervous most of the time which came hardly as a surprise and they hoped it would fade in time.

Eating the delicious and hearty food Alyssa nearly fell asleep. She was saved when Mireille pinched her in the side.

“Hey! What are you up to?”

“See those board games? They go back to the Innkeeper. I think you can have them lend you one?”

“Ok, that sounds a bit promising. Want to go ask?”

“Yes, I will do that.”

Mireille went and talked to one of the maids and shortly after returned with a board game.

“Do you know how to play that?”

“Can't be difficult, have you seen the people who are playing two tables behind us?”

“You mean you don’t know and did not ask?”

“Maybe?”

“Ok, and what do we do now?”

“We make up some rules and play!”

They played for about an hour and were having a lot of fun when Maximilian came through the entrance in the company of three burly men armed with longswords and crossbows, armored in chain with metal-plate over the vital areas. The helms that completed the outfit were, at the moment, held under their left arms. Adam walked behind them, wearing his oiled coat and chain vest with his usual sardonic grin.

The men had dark hair and seemed to be siblings with the light coloring of the Broken Kingdoms.

“I hope you left some food for me.” Maximilian joked then proceeded to introduce the men. “These are our new bodyguards, Titus, Samael, and Lyx of Kruogs Breach.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Alea nodded, Mireille and Alyssa echoed her.

The three siblings nodded and the one in the lead, interestingly looking like the youngest spoke with a slight accent “I and my brothers greet you. We have received the blade-geld and are at your service until the next new moon.”

“They are from beyond the river Colphys out of Kruogs Breach, a town on the coast of dreams, a few weeks journey from here. Adam knew of them and thought them a good addition.”

“They are a trustworthy people and those three I have heard of. They do good and reliable work.” Adams deep voice rumbled.

“Thank you for the kind words, Old Adam Bearkin.”

“That's a name I have not heard in some time.” Adam grinned.

“So, I heard the lodgings are arranged?”

“Yes and I propose to sleep as soon as possible.”

They went upstairs and then to their respective rooms. The room the three girls entered held a large double bed and one bed that had probably not been here originally. The walls were made of wood, the ceiling was supported by thick beams of oak. It smelled a bit musty but was clean and warm.

Mireille went to the double bed. “Dibs!”

Alyssa grinned and asked Alea. “Where do you want to sleep?”

The small girl fidgeted.

“Come here, there is enough room for four,” Mireille called.

“If you…I mean if you need, want me to…” Alea seemed embarrassed.

Mireille grabbed their hands and pulled them towards the double bed. “Alyssa gets to be in the middle.”

“Why?”

“I need you so that I don’t freeze. And you don’t toss and turn.”

Sleeping arrangements thus organized they washed and changed. After extinguishing the glow globe moonlight fell through the slats of the shutter. Mireille hugged Alyssa and promptly fell asleep.

Sighing but content with the comforting warmth the white-haired girl prepared to sleep as a small form pressed against her and whispered. “I always wanted to sleep like this. When I was very young Max and I slept together, but when...that...happened he no longer did. Can I?”

Alyssa hugged her and whispered softly. “Of course, you can.”

Cyrus sat on the table and put his head under his left-wing. Before that, he had eyed his mistress with a bit of jealousy.

Asandria looked at the three and whispered, 'tomorrow then. I have all the time in this world and the next.'

And they fell asleep to the sound of spectral laughter.