The hares' crackle as the grease spills into the flames. The browning of the meat makes a smell that wafts across the short distance from me to fire as I lace and unlace my fingers, staring past the fire at the woman across from me. My elbows rest on my knees I watch her read her book, whetstone on her side and leaned back against a large bundle. She didn't look at me, just continued to read by the firelight to the sound of sizzling and crackling logs. Beyond this there was silence, just the night held back by light. She continues unconcerned as I stare at her, seemingly content while I sit uneasily. Trust is unsure still, continuing to mull over her somehow getting me here. Across from a woman who could have me killed or kill me, with no real ties for protection.

///

I stood body tensed yet the grip on my blade oddly loose, arms lax. She wasn't looking at me, but if what she had said was true she had to know the value of the thing she hath uttered. Stone still, I felt my breath go hollow as the wind pushes through again.

"How?" I said breathless, feeling the shock hold me. "How could you know?"

She looks at me again with that slightly amused smile, so faint it was less seen and more gleaned. "It is a skill I've acquired. Likely the same skill used by the man atop the wagon whom spotted you. Is that important however? What is known is known."

"No," The word coming out faintly along with the temptation to step back, " No, no, you could've known, why would you know?" Her face quirked and I heard her mutter "hysteria" as if that was to mean something. She seemed to still be slightly amused, yet at the same time peering through me. "Was that supposed to make me trust you more? Why would I follow you now?"

Shifting her grip on the staff, she looks back down the road. "I can't see any other you having another choice, as it seems your life is as this here road; you have two paths to go down, but can only in truth take one." She turns to move, moving her staff in the direction of the side path she came from. "Of course, you always have the inane decisions to make that will cost you your life."

I look on at her quietly as she watches me think. Having too little an idea what inane means, I could only assume it was dangerous and foolish. "How can I know that you wouldn't hurt me, leave me, kill me?"

The small smile is obvious now as my mind imagines she is smug. "Because I have told you that I won't, which I am sure is more than anything else you've gotten so far."

Again, I do nothing and look, but this time she turns and begins to walk away. I am tempted, my thoughts broken as she says "I shall leave you to mull while the caster decides whether or not to come back to see what he was looking at."

She glances back, and my face must have windowed my thoughts as she said, "Mull means to think over.", in a pitying tone. I feel my cheeks flush as I slide my daggers into the belt again. Standing straight, I look back down the road and once more at the lady as she walks away, sword bouncing on her hip. Then I look to where the wagons left.

And turn back toward the woman walking away.

\

And now I am here, looking at her as she sits without care, reading the novel page by page. The fire crackles as it was minutes ago, and I find that I am still uneasy. There is no trust between us I can tell, but she has a confidence in this situation that I do not. I know what I can do, and it isn't much. And I know she knows because she said these words within the same moment I met her. And yet there was nothing I could see of what she could do. She had a staff that I assumed she knew how to use, but it was the sword I was warier of still. And her tongue; within the walk for the remainder of the day, any questions I asked she never answered, but decided to correct my grammar and give me more words than my heart could beat in a minute. I learned better common today than I have learned in my entire lifetime. I found that if I didn't talk however, she wouldn't either, and so we spent the rest of our trip in silence.

My stomach pulls against me as the last bit of grease the hare has to... yield, to yield is sent to popping in the flames. I lean and reach for my hare just as she puts a leaf in her book and sets it upon the ground to reach for her own. The meat steams as I watch her grab her own, ever cautious and waiting for something to go wrong. Beyond the steam of the rabbit heating my face, nothing happens. She proceeds to eat her food as a normal person would, not intent on killing me or anything else. And so I focus on eating, something I haven't done in a day, and began to pull strips of meat off my dinner while burning my fingers in the attempt.

As the first of the meat hits my stomach, my burned fingers and mouth and throat can be ignored at the hunger starting to be fulfilled. I tear at the meat anxiously now, pulling piece by piece into my mouth over and over, the hare devoured as quickly as I could chew.

I wiped my fingers off upon my cloak, the oils burning and sticky all at once. I look up to see her still eating as I throw my stick into the flames, taking her time and looking at me with a small smile. I don't meet her eyes, embarrassed, and look out into the sky as I have so many nights before. My eyes look past the stars into the darkness, and all I see are the silver eyes of the large cat as I look at the silver pool, the same eyes I saw when the spear haft slid into its chest. I see home.

Dinner passes uneventfully as I take the first watch. I bank dirt around the flames and walk back over to the same spot I was sitting, this time turned to the road facing east. I here her settle in with her cloak that I completely forgot where she pulled it from, completely at ease with a complete stranger taking the watch. And I can see why she was traveling alone log before she found me. If a girl can make it this far on her own in these lands, she can handle herself. Most men don't do this either, and how she manages I am unaware.

We stay in silence for some time, neither moving nor doing anything. This is the first companion I've had since leaving Captin, and I find that I was more blackmailed by circumstance than invited by chance. Why I am here, I have no idea. Traveling with an unknown woman over the vast lands of Kara, to... to what? I still had no goal, not beyond just hoping that following her was a good idea. For now.

Some time into this introspection, I realize that I still don't even know her name. "Ma'am," I say turning before I even consider whether or not she is sleeping. Fortunately- or not- she isn't. Why isn't she sleep yet?

"Yes?" She replies, shifting against her roll and cloak. I turn back, unsure if she shifted to look at me or merely because she was fully woken.

"What is your name?"

She shifts again and I swear I could almost hear her smile. "Phara."

"Oh, fay-rah, ok." Sounding out the name made it less odd in my mind.

Silence comes back once again, but briefly this time. "Yours?" she says in a semi expectant tone.

Startled out of my reverie, I look back at her and turn back a quickly. There is something uncomfortable with watching a random woman sleep. "My name is Kuxalo."

I hear her shift for the final time, with a muttered "Ah", and the night's silence takes over again. Looking out, feelings come back soft and numerous, quiet as the night is dark. Why I trusted her I still don't know, there was something more than the simple 'I had no other choice'. I followed her, talked with her, ate with her. I could have tried to follow those bandits, tried to... no wait, they tried to kill me. Right? What would I know? Tapping the spear haft against my knee, I see what I've been ignoring for as long as I've been traveling, why I'm still next to her instead of running away in the night.

I'm lonely. I've spent so many nights alone, wandering that I've almost forgotten what it is like to be with another person. Spending so much time surviving on a daily, it becomes your only focus; so much so that I didn't even recognize that I felt this way. Sitting here, looking at the stars, and sky, one couldn't say that I feel less empty or more complete. Sitting here, I feel like I have something I didn't have after I left home. I have direction, somewhere to go, something to do. At the least more of it than I did when I left.

The way Calkolh left me... I remember the look in his eyes as the truest family I've ever had disowned me in his heart. The way he denied me as if I was no longer his brother or even human. As if he couldn't bear to hold onto me any longer. If they had killed me, it could not have hurt more. To find someone- or rather for someone to find me- that would be willing to associate with me, in any form, is something I wasn't sure I would have again. Even when the bandits robbed me, I was so caught in the moment that I couldn't see what they were doing. Or maybe I just ignored it.

The moon shines pale in its phase today, half full but in the dark night sky as beautiful as a virgin. Tapping my knee again I turn to look at the dust moon across from her, twice its size but with no luster, sitting swollen and full above the horizon. Silent with the night, I take watch beneath the sky as I wait for Phara to awake and take her turn.

---

Winds pull through the grass today as we walk, Phara ahead of me with her staff poking into the ground with every step taken. The sword on her hip is softly bumping, and the bundle on her back bouncing up and down with each an odd rhythm, the clouded sky softly rumbling. And she was smiling, damn her she was smiling. I don't remember Phara waking me, and when I did there was a slight but stiff pain in my chest. And since the moment I woke, I've seen that damn smile on her face. Slightly annoyed, I snap "Why is that so funny? All I asked is where we're going."

The grin doesn't disappear as she responds with "We are going to the Third Watch."

The WATCH? "The watch!" She knows what I am and yet we're headed to the Watch? "Are they not crawling with Grims and Royal Knights?"

She is still smiling, which to me makes little sense and is irritating at the same time. "Yes, and String Knights which will often be in service to the lords that are in power there. If you find any Royals or just a Royal authority which is likely, then there might also be an enslaved caster. " She says all of this without a change in demeanor, which now scares me. That and the fact that this is the first time I heard of String Knights.

"This would not be good for me, would it?"

"No," She replies in a serious tone, "I suppose it would not." My mood dims further and the somber information, and the lack thereof. This was the fifth hour of the day I judge by the sun, and we spent the first hour of the day with her giving me lessons on "proper speech", of which Phara seems to find fascinating. The next two hours were review, and as the sun finally came above the horizon, we walked in silence. During this time I tried to analyze my new teacher. I found few things.

The first was that she was by far one of the tallest females I've met- as in, she is the tallest. We are of height, and see each other eye to eye. The second was that the blade she carries at her hip is ornate beyond reason, and that this is disguised by the leather straps she has chosen to wrap around it. The reason for this I do not know, maybe to not draw attention or maybe because she doesn't want it or herself to be recognized. The next thing I knew was that she also knows how to use it, and well. In the morning I woke to a hare not ten paces away, and upon failing to catch it with a lunge that left me sprawled upon the ground, I shouted to her as it leapt in her direction.

Before I could turn, I heard the sound of the sword singing through the air and the hare die, and when I did she was calmly cleaning her blade against her cloak. The wrapping around the hilt and crossguard became slightly unraveled in the process, which is how I saw the decoration and time put into the weapon. The steel itself was a work of art as well, and it shone in the light of the sun in a darker shade than normal steel would have warranted. The blade was thin but of average length, and when she slid the blade into the scabbard smoothly without looking, I got chills.

The third was that she knows some kind of magic, which I can only say I truly know because of a feeling, and that when I asked she proceed to school me in proper speech. Beyond these things, little else do I know. I can assume that she knows how to use her staff as well, and upon closer inspection, while traveling I saw that what I thought was black grain in the brown wood are actually runes, not carved but almost grown into the staff itself. This also reaffirmed my belief that she knows some sort of magic, but that she knows how to use the staff as well. If she can train so well for a sword, why would she grab such an important and obviously powerful staff but neglect to use it, or learn how?

As we walk, I grow more concerned over my own lack of ability and knowledge. I knew more than most commoners, in fact a knew more than a lot of them, but a lot of commoners could still kill me. My skills were subpar, and even with my enhancements, my abilities are just that of a strong human. If I could be taught to fight... but this woman would never teach me, she enjoys toying with me on whims. Withholding information seems to be her defining attribute. As we walk quietly down the dirt road in silence, I remember her mentioning string knights, and decide that there is nothing to lose from at least asking this question. I become aware of my sore feet and legs as walking is truly taking its toll.

"Uh, Phara?" She continues to walk but pulls even with me while doing so so that we can be shoulder to shoulder. "What are string knights?"

She smiles again- which I can say true is starting to set me off- and answers, "String Knights are knights that build a sort of 'lawful' gang or order. They are unattached to the authority of the kingdom and use their influence to gain more, using people to conduct operations or exert small amounts of control. Because they are not Royaly affiliated, the knights often put themselves under the service of whatever lord or baron or some such rules the land, as protection. In turn, the baron uses them and their influence to keep control over the land, and often because of these ties they become the knights of that house. In turn for service under that lord, the knight often gets payment in coin for their service." She prattles this off as if it is common knowledge, yet I must confess that now is the first time I've heard of it. She taps the tapered point of her staff against the ground as she continues, "They are called String Knights because they often attach people to them with strings, using dirt and favors as tethers to their power. It is often effective." She looks at me as she speaks now as if this is something I should pay attention to. "They oft use people in their service as spies as well, to gather information to report back to them, which is another reason why they are used by the lords of the land. Bar goers, washerwoman, any person could be under a string knights influence."

This was indeed something to concern myself with as if any person found who I was, they would not hesitate to turn me in. Well, except for Phara it seems. For the moment at the least. Nevertheless, any true Karan would turn me over to the Grim or a lord for the reward purely, if not the principle alone. If string knights were in the Third Watch, I would indeed have to be careful. Once more however, looking at her face and her smile I must confess that I see not the mirth in this situation. This is my life's end. "Should I split ways with you when we arrive at the Third Watch?"

She looks at me again, no longer smiling as her pale face and dark grey eyes hold firm as they pierce my own. "Do you think that I would go through the trouble of dragging you the rest of the weeks worth journey the Watch only to allow you to be captured?" Before I answer that she could, in fact, have a plan in place for turning me in at the watch specifically, she continues. "I am well aware of the dangers that the Watch may pose to you, and have no intention of letting you die once we arrive. For one, you are weak in power, and it is doubtful a slave caster will take notice of you. For another, unless you verbally admit that you are indeed a Vynya, or go about showing it, you have little chance of being found."

My face contorts. "A Vynya?" I say, my tongue stumbling over the foreign word. "That's what I am?"

She nods, and without a smile I note which makes me all the happier. "A soul eater, a glass wraith, a soul sucker, they are all a Vynya, which is the true name for what you are. The others are just folk terms."

I take in the information, nodding as I think it over. Not that there is much to think over, but I will admit that Vynya sounds much nicer than any name I have thought of or conceived. Now that here is something to address myself by, I feel as though I hold more value. Though I suppose I have no value here. "Why haven't you turned me in? Why help me?"

She seems to think about this, and as she sights something down the path she says indifferently, "I am not Karan. I see no reason to hunt you, kill you, and I do not need money. As you are not a man. You have seen no true life, have yet to truly live. This is why I help you, because from helping you I can lose nothing." She seems to unfocus, thinking of something that is not here, not now. "But perhaps there is something to gain." As she turns the sunlight catches the gray streaks in her hair. "Lets stop, take our first break of the day."

I stop but do not take off my cloak as she does. "Why are we stopping?" I ask, my aching feet betraying my curiosity.

Without looking up or pausing, she replies "Because you are tired, and a break is needed in order to ensure you don't pass out."

I almost reply, but the ache in my feet pull me off the trail next to the tree she chose and sits me upon the ground. I unclasp my cloak with a sigh and lean forward to massage my foot through my boots. I realize how stupid that is, and decide to sit back and grab my water flagon. The water pours cool down my throat and cheek, cooling me from within as I mentally sigh with pleasure. Placing it upon the ground, I move to lean back against the ground, but somehow my spear haft is between my back and the dirt, yet still stuck in my belt loop making it impossible for me to fully lay down. Grunting in annoyance, I sit back up and pull the haft out of the belt loop. Then I realize that I could have just taken the loop off and decided to go the way of the fool. In anger, I lean forward to toss it to the ground but see Phara watching me as I look up. I freeze as our eyes meet, and she looks at me with an unspoken inquiry.

"Do you know how to use that?" she asks with mirth that now makes sense.

I lower it to my side as I think of saying 'You slash with the stabby end and stab with the stabby end?'. Looking at her face, I see that she can see through me. I sigh and put the point into the grass. "No, I don't."

"Would you like to learn how?"

I look back at two and a half feet of haft and the foot-long blade and realize that I didn't think of this as a true weapon. "Yes, yes I would."

"Good," she says, and I see her lean back against the tree when I look up, "Because truth be told I couldn't tell you how to properly you those daggers of yours."

My eyes widen as I realize what it is exactly she is saying. So far, my truest loss has been a lack of skill, even when I was in Captin City. Learning how to properly use a weapon... "You will truly teach me?"

She nods. "Sure. Those weapons, I forget the name of them, but they are in truth long shafts with a short glave blade on the end. People in the Fender Lands use them as a primary weapon, and often use two."

The Fender Lands? From what I know, those are some wildlands in the north on the east side of the world, on the very edge of Onkira. "I would be quite truly grateful if you were to teach me Phara."

Once again, she smiles. "Then rest, because in ten minutes we will start your training."

And now, I almost regret it.

---

"We shall come into sight of the watch anon, so be prepared."

Phara's warning to be 'prepared' seemed redundant to me, and excessively dumb. I knew that this was the day that we would arrive at the watch, as I had asked the day before. And I was also unsure what exactly she meant by being prepared. Prepared for what... ah. I remember, within the last week she taught me how to subdue my energy and essence, how to force it down. She made it my assignment to do it every night before I slept, and every day when I first woke. It had just sprinkled minutes before, and my hair was damp and slight dampness was still on my hood and cloak. I felt it as I slid my haft back within my cloak; an odd weapon will make me more remembered when we enter the city, and I want to leave as little a mark upon the city as possible. Seeing as we had both managed to run out of rations on the way here, and we would both want a break from the long road, we would likely be staying there for more than a day. Or a day at least. And though the town does pose several dangers to me, to say that I would not enjoy a rest from the roads would be a lie.

As the walk goes on, I reflect on my week of training. Over the last week, Phara has been training me in the basics of my weapon, teaching me how to fight or rather defend. And we fight twice a day, ending with me receiving bruises after everyone. I started the sparring matches with little hope of success but ended them with none. By now my goals were only to when she stepped up to me with her staff in hand; either defend myself better than the day before or don't lose as bad as the day before. Either way, the goal was the same- to become better. I found that when we fought she has and almost calculating belligerence, and her skill is incomparable. They did, however, make our days pass by quicker, in which I learned more from her than in truth anyone before. And as of yet, she has never asked me about my past, allowing me to keep my secrets my own. Her attitude towards me has also changed, to the point where she no longer holds back information for little apparent reason. Well, she now gives it up eventually, and I feel that we have become more comfortable with each other. I feel good, and more at peace, knocked from my torpor.

A while later, a black point can be seen in the distances as we turn with the road, and I squint as I feel disappointed that this is all of the Watch. "That is all? Where is the town, the great tower?" Phara simply scoffs but says nothing. It looks as if it is one simple hut the is jutting above the ground, and black and smooth one, glossed and shining.

As we walk closer, I see the ground behind it is much lower than the ground we are walking upon... Now a complete fool, I avoid her gaze as I realize the truth. I hear here scoff again as we reach the edge of the plateau, watching the trail drop over its side. As we reach the crest, my mouth drops and I stop in dead silence.

I had never been prepared for this.

The Tower was huge, having to reach well over two hundred feet tall, proven as I realize that I could see the top of the tower even though the land drops far to the plains below. The first thing I see is indeed the Tower, tall as I said but also at least five times the width of our house, and completely round. It shines as dark black as I've heard obsidian to be, pushing light from it while at the same time drinking it in, the light shower from before adding sheen to the mystic feel of the tower. It from here seems completely smooth and has no window to be seen. As my eyes wander over the tower, my awe turns to chock and a cold chill as something hits me- the tower has no shadow. Nothing mares the green ground on any side, and it takes my brain a full minute to completely understand this.

The second thing I notice is the barracks at the base of the tower, and then the large sprawling town of ramblings that surrounds it. Far from opulence, it looks to be houses made of wood and thatch roofs smooshed together, though for what reason I cannot understand. It is huge, sprawling over a few miles away and around the tower itself. True, Captin is bigger, yet this is the most massive imitation of a town I've seen. True towns or cities have advancements, but this is just many villages piled on top of each other, people bonding themselves to survive. Dotted between the houses, I see what must be the lord's houses, or what passes for such here. There are three on the left, one near the middle, and the other on the right. Five in total. I can tell them apart because while there are other stone buildings to be seen, these are larger and have space separated for them. Lawns, trees, gardens are set in a mimic of opulence that the impoverished people in the city must believe. Beyond the austere tower and the cluttered town are farming fields for miles, stretched over the plains and a few farmers and stock out among them, to toil for their harvest. I turn to Phara and ask about the stone houses, just for the affirmative.

She nods. "Yes, those are the lords' houses." When I ask why there are so many, she tells me that anyone can become a lord. When I ask why there are so few, she quirks her eyebrow. "The lords are constantly vying for power here." I brace myself for the forthcoming garrulous explanation. "In order to become a lord of your own, you would have usurped the power of the lord already there. To be a lord, in any case, requires people and money, as these are the primary ingredients to power. New lords here are scant made, as the greater lords will always bond together to squash them and regain power. The temerity you would need to do this and not be killed is beyond everyone who is not a lord beforehand. To gather people, to create a stable foundation- this takes time. To work your power and influence, it takes time. To bring the rest of your family here to make your hold stable takes time. Because of this, it is very hard to become a lord in the watch."

I nod, looking back at the Watch to see it closer. Noticing that between the town and the Watch itself was a large field, at least a quarter-mile. Squinting, there seems to be a low wall between the field and the start of the barracks itself, delineated by a thin line on the ground. This means that unless you belong there, the chances of you making it to the watch noticed are low. Further emphasized because the town itself ends halfway as if cut perfectly by a magical line into a dome. It doesn't get past the Watch, which I find odd until I realize that if an attack were to come, the lives of innocents would be taken quicker than grain from the fields. There are several low buildings, which I am assuming are barracks, against the tower.

I suppose Phara tires of this gawking as she starts down the path once again. Apprehensive, if slightly, I follow. Pleasantly surprised I find that it is not simply a plateau as I thought it was, but is instead a hill with most likely the steepest slope I've seen. Though the road does continue down it, it winds down the side, the same width measured and it pulled out of the slope itself for flat and stable ground. As we go down, I marvel at the copious floral patterns of nature here, as if it is eternally spring. In truth, it is autumn but this part of the plains does not seem to know it. Then again, I suppose autumn has just started.

When we reach flat land again, the start of the village is but forty yards away. The road leads into the town in the distance, and a dirt mound knee high is on its perimeter. As we walk, Phara whispers "Prepare yourself." And I nod with understanding.

Taking three deep breaths, I then stop walking and get onto my knees. She slows but I try and pay this no mind as I close my eyes and rest my mind. I remember the conversation we had as she explained why I needed to learn how to meditate.

'Just because the power is not in use does not mean it is there,' she says as she stands over me with her arms crossed. She had me placed on the ground, sitting with my legs crossed beneath me. 'It is suffused in every limb, every fiber you have. The emptiness you have is not emptiness growing, it is the pressure over your power building. You must learn to subdue your nature to pass those who would detect it and do you harm because of it. You cannot erase it, but you can however suppress it for a small time. This may weaken you, but as you are, it is no matter.'

I focus, using my breath as it pulls through me to find what I have within my body, and find it a part of my body. Though I find this process slow, she tells me that it is unnaturally fast for me to learn it so quickly. I surround my hollow essence and condense it, pulling it down within myself, pulling myself down. This still seems odd to me, feels different. It tells me just how much I've changed, when putting this power down feels like pulling down and almost separating me from myself.

I finish and rise again, walking faster to match pace with Phara as we walk to the town guards. Both stand tall with a simple spear, taller than they are themselves. I have been told from Phara that these are spikes, and now feel the need to correct myself. Alas, they both stand tall with simple pikes and a thick dark wood cudgel at their side. As they look at me oddly, I know that they saw me kneel on the road. A purple emblem stands out on their chest as they shift, Phara and I walking near.

Silently they look us over, then turn behind the wall to someone who must be laying down, as we cannot see them. A few moments later, an affirmative shout came from down the mound of dirt, and as if this is what they had been waiting for, they stood aside and nodded, moving to the sides of the road. Walking past, I couldn't say I quite understood the system, but I must confess that in all I couldn't care. Walking into the city, the smell of latrines hits first. They are odd however; looking to left and right, it is just plants are bare dirt. The same yellow and green flowers that came along the hillsides and across the plains are planted here, in bushes and stalks that grow three feet tall. No wonder the smell is diluted- the dirt that is placed over it is planted with flowers. We continue to walk deeper into the city, and the sounds of hawkers and merchants pull over like a storm. I have never seen a city to bustle with open trade in this fashion, men standing over fresh fruits, meats being cooked in the open with the raw versions hanging from the tops of stalls. Clothes being sold, and people walking by others with barely a foot of space between them. Cloaked men, finely dressed men, a whole variety. As we turn, I marvel at the difference that the dregs of society can bring. At home, everyone seemed to be in some form- albeit the lesser form- of the middle class. Here, there was little distinction of class but moreover just people living in their ways. A man pushes past seemingly from the hunters guild pushing a cart selling furs, pelts, and other such as we took our second left turn. She has been here before. As we continue to walk, I look up to see that the sun is just starting to set, and yet the town here is still busy. Smiling, I realize that my being noticed by accident is far from likely to happen.

Phara stops, apparently hearing a call for something she likes. Turning, she walks back which of course forces me to turn back with her. As she nears the hawker, he sights us down and turns from his last customer while stopping his calls. He looks up at her, looking me over and instantly making the correct assumption that I have little money. "And what'd you be a wantin' madam?"

She points to a thick, folded canvas behind him, seemingly tarred. "I'd like one of those if you'd favor."

The man nods and turns quickly to grab the item with his lightly tanned arms. Phara puts one hand in her inside cloak pocket as the man turns back around, and pulls out a handful of coppers.

"That'd be a twenty coppers madam."

She nods and hands him the entire fistul, which I can assume is more than twenty coppers, and judging by the man's content face while he resumes calling out more wares, I suppose that I am right.

I walk behind her as she stuffs the folded thing in my hands. "What do we need this for?"

She turns the third left. "Rainy days, and rainy nights. Would be unfortunate if we got soaked again."

After five more minutes of walking, twists and turns, we come upon a two-story inn called the Grey Maiden, which sounds more like a ship name to me. She does not hesitate, walking in without pause and forcing me to walk in with her. Upon entering, I slow, taking in the beauty that I didn't quite expect. In the middle of the room was a rectangle two feet high, filled with charred logs and coal. The flames that leapt from it stood four feet tall. All the walls but one are lined with a bar, and stools and chairs to accommodate. Some tables are also in the center of the room, three in all. A seemingly laconic bard strums in the corner, and to our right sits a thick man with a bald head and beard, who nodes to us as we walk in. I count twelve people enjoying food and drink at the bars, and as we walk to the front of the room where the innkeep is, the only side without a bar, I see a doorway to both our left and our right that lead to rooms. Through the right I see stairs. The bright looking innkeep greets us from behind the counter, where behind her is another door that I assume leads to her room and the kitchens. The wall behind her and to her left are covered with shelves, displaying things that I assume are for sale. When the innkeep sees us, she smiles and greets Phara with a warm, "Ahh, ma'am! How nice to see you again! I see that the journey was fruitful, yes?" The twinkle in her eye is suggestive. Too suggestive. I resist the urge to flinch as Phara calmly responds.

"Ah, please Greeta don't be silly, this would be my nephew! And it is true, alas the second time I've seen your face and you look far from aged!" Phara puts on a sincere smile as she talks with her, and I come to feel a bit of confusion and jealousy.

"Please, lie not to a friend! I assume that you will be wanting rooms for you and your nephew!" She reaches to a drawer beneath the counter with a key while she continues talking. "Separate or together?" Phara looks at me for a second, as if to judge. I look back with the same intensity in confoundment. "Separate." She replies. Greeta comes back above with two keys, poofy white hair bobbing. She is, I must admit, quite springy for an elder. "Ahh, then here you are. The cost will be the same ma'am, and I should say that behind the stairs we have separate rooms for bath. We have tubs and a pool, and the tubs can be heated with hot stones but the pools always are. Of course, meals and drink will cost extra. Enjoy your time!" When Phara slides the appropriate money across the counter, we head up the stairs. She hands me my key as I reach the landing, and heads left. I feel relieved that there are baths here. We bathed in the same river but once on our way here, yet on opposite ends of it's bend so that we were out of the sight of the other. Nevertheless, I carried a diffidence throughout the incident that has given more of it around women.

We reached our rooms, and she pointed to the room to the right of hers as she slid into her own. I walked in and saw a bed with antlers hanging over it. It was obvious that Greeta was close to the hunters guild. There was no window, but there were some candles and two spark stones. I grabbed them and rubbed them over the wick, and as it caught light pushed through the room. I continued to walk across and light the other on the right side of the bed, above a chest. The candles smelled good, and I sat on the bed to lean back, staring at a chair next to the door.

I hear a knock. "Come in." Phara opens the door and looks to the candles and me, resting peacefully on my bed.

"I see you've gotten acquainted."

I nod wearily. "Rest would do us good, Phara."

"Yes, yes it would." She stands there, still not closing the door. "However, I must implore you to go and shower. I have some things to address before I leave you." And with that, Phara simply walks out and closes the door behind her.

I sigh heavily, but cannot say that I disagree with her on this. Getting up, stuffing the cloak and weapons into the chest which is fortunately unlocked with the same key, I walk myself down to the baths. Upon entering, I find a large stack of towels by the door. I grab one and undress, thankfully that there is not another man here to deprive me of this moment. Slowly sinking into the water of the pool, letting out a great breath and allowing contentment to wash over me. I scrub myself in the hot pool, removing dirt and grime and sweat until I think myself clean and then just lying there, allowing my body and mind to let go.

Eventually done, I put my dirty clothes back over my clean body and walk out, leaving the towel on the floor. I walk up to my room and open the door to find Phara sitting in the chair with her chin in her hand. She looks up at me as I enter, and subjugated me to a judgmental look as I jump upon the bed and sigh. "Listen, I have some business to take care of tonight. For one, I am going to sell these hawks and see what they can bring me." Thinking back to watching her catch the hawks, I do not doubt that she knows some form of magic. She simply pointed her staff at one, and it suddenly was hit with an unexplained force. As it fell, she continued to point her staff, shaking it once in a while, and it pinned the bird to the ground. She did this again with the next one she found. And did so easily. It would be a long time before I could ever reach a level to match that. "I will be out tonight doing what I wish to do, so that said I want you to be aware. For one, I will not purchase any excess. I will purchase only food. If you are not here when I buy a meal, you will not get one." I do not respond. It does make sense. "Second, we are only staying for two days. Do not create any bonds, it will not serve you well. Third, buy some clothes. I know you have some amount of coin, and I am sure that basic clothes will help you." She rises and picks up her hawks as she turns to walk out of the door. "Sleep well, we may not get much on the road. And lastly, remember that brothels are expensive." I open my mouth to protest, but she simply shakes her head. "Try not to enjoy it too much." Phara turns and walks out, leaving the door open.

That had to be for her enjoyment. I could swear I saw her smile.

That said, I turn to my chest and retrieve my pouch and cloak. After a moment's thought, I grab a dagger as well. As I walk outside, I see the luck moons; the silver moon a silver crescent barely above the rooftops and the Dust Moon half full and high above. The streets are less crowded in the dark and the lords' guards walk the district. I really ought to buy some clothes. With this in mind, I set out amongst the town.

---

"Where is the boar faced woman?"

Calkolh ignores Gvens mutterings as they search for Brentina. Though he is thinking much of the same thing, he also thinks of the image Grims have to uphold in front of civilians. Muttering does not help the image. Beyond that, he fails to see what it solves in any case; he's still muttering and they have yet to find Brentina. His eyes push through the shadows but find nothing, nothing beyond the occasional fearful face that walks the late-night streets of Heron. Reaper had left them nigh on an hour ago to meet with another Grim, to discuss matters 'Beyond younglings'. Calkolh and the others were told that the meeting would be short, yet after going back to the Cove for a drink or four, Reaper still hadn't returned. They were supposed to leave that night after they found whatever new place their contact was hiding. Not entirely sure what exactly to do yet, they grew bored. After allowing himself to indulge Brentina disappeared, once again reminding himself why he shouldn't. And now they were out looking for her before the Reaper found them.

The luck moons low light forced him to use his ability to pull through the shadows to see well, Gven behind him still muttering. Desperate to ignore him and prove himself as a leader, Calkolh extended his hearing as well. Nigh on close to agitation, he walked faster and roamed the streets.

Heron was a city that aimed for elegance yet half failed. Many of the buildings were white and well made, but it seemed that was where all the effort was spent as far as architecture is concerned. The others were not horrible but paled in comparison. The streets were unevenly paved until you got to the center where the lord of Heron lived. Statues of birds were everywhere, even in the lesser parts of the city which made little sense. Walking around a swan fountain, Calkolh admitted that making an entire city where upper-middle class was as low as the economic status went is impressive. The entire city did well with opulence, and though the lavish view was not entirely complete it was still, in fact, well done. Guard patrolled streets though it wasn't needed for the residents. Crime rates were low, and often dealt with swiftly. It was truly just a lax city with homes for the rich.

As they turned again, Calkolh thought he heard something, a slight sound. He stopped walking, swatting a hand behind him to smack Gven in the face. When Gven fell silent, he condensed the sound around his ears, drawing it from the air as he would draw breath. The sound came slightly louder, and he heard a scream. A male scream, and then it faded into what could almost be a groan. "Don't tell me..."

Calkolh broke pace into a run, Gven trailing behind. He turned corners, always running in the same general direction until he could hear the sound clearly, a man in pain blubbering out words to try and get himself out of a situation. Leaping over a bench, Calkolh ran between a tavern and a tailor, turning right as he passed the buildings to run straight into a Sky cursed swan fountain. He moved around this one as well and stopped moving as he looked into the alley. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gvens mouth drop within his hood. If Calkolh hadn't schooled his face before turning the fountain, he might have done the same.

On the ground were eight people, five grouped near the front of the alley and three near the back. All of them were bloody. Brentina stood over the only conscious one, who was backed against a wall crying and slobbering. And groaning in pain. Bottles of slyh were on the ground, most of them crushed. As Calkolh saw this he understood the situation. The bottles allowed Calkolh to delineate that Brentina saw a drug dealing and beat them all to the stars, keeping the last one up to ask more of the operation. She decided not to discriminate between the addicts and the dealers, and was currently standing of the last one with her mace out and threatening. Though this is not why they were shocked.

She, as a Grim, holding no powers an average mortal could achieve, decided to do this with her time when she was bored? She enforced the law in her spare time? Needing to beat someone, they could both understand. Sometimes a fight is just what is needed to get yourself back into the flow. This, however, isn't a fight; she did this purely to enforce that drugs are illegal and should not be dealt nor consumed. And that was all. There was absolutely no way they could have fought her back.

"Gven, close your mouth," he muttered under his breath, the sound of a click coming quickly after to show that he complied. "Brentina!" She turned, almost startled at the sound of his voice, as if confused on why he should be here. " What is this?" He knew full well what it was of course.

Brentina looked as if the answer was obvious, and the tone of her reply was hostile. "They sold drugs, and when I demanded that they cease their actions they dared to run!"

Even now, Calkolh is confused still by her virtue.

As he opened his mouth to reply, albeit a bit harshly, he was interrupted by an unforeseen "Whoa!" A grown Grim jumped, or maybe fell, from the rooftop above the alley, landing beside Brentina with grace. Calkolh recognized him as he pulled back his hood, one of the top Grims in Heron. Which was odd, because this was one of the Grims Reaper was supposed to meet. Redon walked around the man on the ground, then looked up at Brentina questioningly. He seemed irritated. "The Sky is this? You going around beating people for drugs?"

While Brentina explained the honor of her ways, Redon's face mirrored what both Gven and Calkolh were thinking; it' s bound to happen. Because this was a city of the rich, drugs were bound to circulate when they could be afforded. Even the guard only monitor this activity enough to look good, and they are known to use the drug themselves. Heron is too lavish to avoid indulgence.

Apparently, Rendon has run out of patience for the matter, as he rolls his eyes and turns her around. "Agh, it doesn' t matter. Some guards will wander by and find them, make the guards look good." He pushed her to Calkolh and Gven, then forcing them to all leave the alley and move in the direction of the Cove, muttering the whole time. "First the bastard doesn't show up, then he disappears. Goes to be irresponsible then makes me responsible for his damn kids..."

Calkolh slows to draw even with Rendon, and asks, "Do you know were Reaper is? He was supposed to be with you." When Reaper had left them, he told them he is going to meet other Grims to discuss 'business'.

Rendon glares at him irritably, but when Gven and Brentina turn as well to hear his answer, he sighs and the glare leaves his face. "No I don' t know where your damned master is. We were supposed to meet an hour ago, but he shows up late to the meeting. All it was were me and around four others, but it'd seem he had trouble coming." Calkolh raised his eyebrows in suspicion. That doesn' t seem like a very big meeting. "He then leaves early, and turns to me, telling me to keep you out of trouble within the five minutes he' s gone. And just like that, your dastardly man leaves. If he didn't have such a repute, he could never pull a stunt like that. Damned fool."

Calkolh nods thoughtfully. "Maybe that he left to meet with the other Grims..."

Rendon shakes his head with even more irritation as if he has already given that thought. "There are only ten other full-fledged Grims that live here, and five others that are passing through. If there was another meeting, we would know. And I doubt he' s going to see his the thirty-odd Grims in training." Calkolh thinks about this as well. The Reaper is a very practical man, and it is unlikely that he is roaming the plains for the sights. Where would he go? "I'm done thinking of the man for the night, let us head back to the Cove."

The Heron Cove was a large rocky formation that the Grims chose when they captured Heron, almost eleven decades ago. The inside was hollowed out and a large pit was dug into the ground. After a bit of walking, they reached it. Standing outside of the Cove, the entrance was dark and forbidding, allowing no light or sound to pass through. The rock itself was grey, and at the least forty feet tall and a hundred wide. A ring was cleared around it, the grasses trimmed near to the dirt, and it was on the outskirts of the city itself. It was the one part of the city without a wall, as a river cut deep into the earth and created a shelf. Passing through, a tunnel was the first thing seen, a mere twenty feet long. Then walking out on the other side, light hit as a wave would crash to shore, and sound pushed over them. Rendon patted Calkolh on the back as he turned to the path on their right, the ring around the top of the pit that led to the rooms. The pit itself was below, and the sound of fights and merriment was overbearing. The Grims to be were on the pit floor, several asleep, but most either drinking or sparring with one another. As Calkolh and the group walked down the pit towards the benches and bars, he spied the pretentious lords son in a sparring match, swinging his weighted sword down into his opponents, laying him into the ground. Gensen was the best fighter out of the Grims in training the city, using an ornate fencing sword that instead of a pommel had a half foot curved blade on the end. It was made of a silver-steel alloy, forged by triclops for him when he was a child. His hair was cut on the sides and back, and the top didn't reach past his ears. Wavy and brown, he fought his opponent with grace until he could beat him into the ground. Calkolh turned away, desperate for a drink and an end to this mission so that they could soon return home. They all sat at the bar, Calkolh in the middle, and all ordered an ale. They watched in silence, sipping upon their ale as Gensen finished off his opponent with a smile. They continued to sip quietly as the elated Gensen asked for yet another, seemingly on a high. He started to scream, boasting that no one else would stand to him.

On his third proclamation, Gven took another sip of ale with a sigh and asked "What' s gone up his arse?" Gensen twitched fifty paces away but continued to shout.

Calkolh shrugged. "Not sure, but it seems to have gone up quite far." Brentina scoffed.

On this, Gensen turned to them with a smile, and Calkolh saw that he heard. He must have had some far extensive training to use his hearing to such a degree, and was using his ability for any excuse for a fight. " Ah, I see someone finally has the balls to contest me!" He smiles as the room goes quiet, and everyone looks at the bold foreigners. "You wouldn't say such callous words without stepping into the ring to back your claim, would you?" His eyes are locked onto Calkolhs the entire time. Calkolh muses quietly.

Brentina breaks the silence. "It would besmirch your honor to fight a lords bastard." Calkolh smirks, nursing his mug of ale. Everyone knew that there was no way that he was pure born. The genes of a Grim are hereditary, and no one in their family was a Grim, at least not to the family's knowledge. When he was born, however, they concocted up a story of how a far cousin was a Grim and the gene was just dormant. However, it was more likely that the wife was visited by a Grim one night, and whelped a child soon after.

Gensens face turned an odd shade, a flicker of anger came and went. " I am purebred you wench!" He turns back to Calkolh, as if ignoring her would put it behind him. "Unlike the obvious orphan here, or isn' t that you? The Grim whose own brother was a soul eater! How fanciful, and you were too weak to stop him. How are we to know that you don't have the same dammed blood in your veins?" He grins, obviously happy to see them riled.

Calkolh puts his mug down upon the bar, and stood, slowly walking to Gensen on the edge of the ring. "He is not my brother." He stops three feet from Gensen. "And I am not weak." A cough sounds on the side of Gensen, and Calkolh looks to see two of his friends appear. Gven and Brentina are behind him. "What are you trying to say?"

"Come along now, nothing too serious." The smile stays on his face. "What say you? You, your friend, and your honorable quem," he says with a smirk as the friend to his right executes a mock bow in her direction. The other friend laughs as Brentinas face twists in disgust. " against the three of us. It should be fair, no?"

Calkolh looks at first Gven then Brentina then looks Gensen back in the eyes. "Agreed."

The two teams split apart, Brentina across from the mocking man, Gensen across from Calkolh and Gven across from the last. Blades where drawn, except for Gensens case as he had long been ready. They stared at each other, measuring and judging. Then, without warning, Gensen charged.

And chaos.

Calkolh was too caught up in the fight to check on his teammates as immediately Gensen threw his sword at Calkolhs chest. Calkolh swiped his blade downward, then pushed off the ground and ran at him, preparing to pull the man off his feet with his blade. Gensen continued to run, full of arrogance, and shot his hand out. Suddenly, Calkolh felt a pull behind his back and rolled forward and to the side as the sword flew, pommel blade first, back into Gensens hand. Calkolh popped out of his roll crouched, both hands on his blade as Gensen swung downward. The weight of his ebb was felt as he used the earth's pull to swing his blade downward, the metal much stronger than it should've been. Calkolh swatted the blade to the side and the thin fencing sword swung into the earth. Then he reversed his swing, aiming for Gensens side. Gensen still smiled as he simply pivoted, bringing the short blade of his pommel against Calkolhs sword, it sliding smoothly along the curve as Gensen spun, swinging the blade for his neck.

Bringing his left hand up, Cakolh slowed the blade by pushing against the metal with his ebb, and brought his right around, swinging the blade pommel up once more to Gensens side. But Gensen blurred into a shadowy figure, and suddenly he was six feet back, smiling with his blade held at his side.

Ahh, thought Calkolh, he focuses on the shadow art of Grim. Moving slowly around him, Gensen twirled his blade with a mock smile and charged again. This time, he blurred himself into shadow as the figure split into two, one coming to his flank and the other running forward. Calkolh blocked the swipe of the one coming to his flank, only to swipe through nothing as Gensen appeared in front of him, jabbing at his center. Calkolh spun to the side and used the momentum to swing again, allowing Gensen to simply catch it on the pommel blade in a practiced motion, twirling into Calkolhs guard and slicing at him once again. This time Calkolh was smart, diving for his legs, sliding across the ground. His adversary jumped, his form shadowing again as he appeared to Calkolhs right and proceeded to jab towards his ribs. Angered, Calkolh dodged to the side and stuck out his left hand, illuminating it and shining it into his face. This time, the shadow of his foe was disrupted and he only appeared three feet away, smile larger than it was before. It was starting to piss Calkolh off.

" I'm impressed," Said Gensen jovially. " You really can stand up to me." He dashed forward again, and this time Calkolh knew what he needed to do, but also knew that it would take preparation. When Calkolh moved to bat the attack away, Gensen once again spun and moved to stab at him. To keep this from becoming a fight of attrition, Calkolh needed to break his rhythm. This time he moves to the side of the blade yet closer to Gensen. He ignored the form of Gensen starting to darken as with a short shout he releases light from his body. Blinded and his attempt broken, Gensen more stumbled than dashed backward, now only three feet away. He slowly pushed this light essence into his blade, swinging it at Gensen again. Though Gensen was able to get his own blade between the blow, it still struck sending him back onto the ground. He rolled it off and stood, pushing himself off the ground with a larger smile still.

Calkolh stood, breathing audibly with his shining sword at his side, the light casting yet another shadow. They stared at each other, Gensen smiling while Calkolh stood with his eyes narrowed. "I see that I can not play games with you." Twice more Gensen rushed at him with shadows, but the shadow failed in front of the light allowing Calkolh to focus on the true threat. When he tried to dash away, Calkolh just followed with his blade, the light finding his eyes and blinding him, giving Calkolh a chance for the offensive. Eventually, Gensen made more shadows and tried to send them at Calkolh to confuse him from a distance. Calkolh got wise to this ploy as well, using knives and pushing light around those as well, throwing them at Gensens body to disrupt his power. The fight was taking them closer to Gven, and Calkolh could hear the sounds of the clash.

Grinding his teeth, Gensen reached to his side and grabbed a bag, throwing dark powder into the air and flinging it at Calkolh in a deadly stream. Grim powder?!? The shock registered on his face as he jumped to the side, the powder shredding into the dirt before collecting in a pile. Grim powder was iron shards filed as sharp as blades, then stored so that they could be used lethally. They are extremely hard to make, and harder to obtain. Riches do have their benefits.

Gensen used this time to charge at him, swinging across his body. He knew to sustain the light was tiring him, and as Calkolh blocked he darted to the side towards the powder once again. Smiling, he put his hand into the pile. Suddenly from his left, he heard Gven shout "Calkolh! Kneel!" He dropped to his knees, then placed his hands on the ground as Gven' s adversary threw his knife, which clashed with Gensens powder and was carried behind him. Gven arrived, using Calkolh as a lift, jumping off of his back into the air as Cakolhs cloak pushed him forward. Gvens longsword slammed into his opponents, and they were locked once again. Calkolh began to form an idea as Gensen once again charged him. He blocked the blade but easily turned to the side to let Gensen run to his powder. Gensens face contorted, but he stuck his hand in the pile once more as Calkolh reached up to the black brooch that clasped his cloak. When alas Gensen sent his powder the third time, Calkolh jumped above it as hard as he could, just barely clearing it. But this time he let his cloak drop, and as everyone gasped he pulled the cloak into stasis on top of the powder, and jumped off of it into the air, focusing on the ebb of his body and reeling himself off the metal and cloak beneath him. Yet as he flew up through the air he noticed that he had connected to something deeper, something stronger. When he reached the apex of his jump, he focused on the pull inside of himself, finding himself static in the air for a few moments longer then he should have been.

Interesting.

Putting both hands on his blade, he reared back and swung down as strongly as he could, pulling the metal of his blade towards the earth and using the earth's ebb to bring himself, and the blade, down faster and stronger. As he started his rushed fall, he heard a familiar voice short "There he is!" but ignored it for the time being. Gensen began to run, but it was too late. When Calkolhs blade slammed into the ground, he repelled everything away from him. With a sharp bang, light flash and dissipated. All the metal in the area was pushed away from him, causing Gensens blade, which was still in his hands to fly off, forcing him to fall to the ground. Gvens own blade remained fine, his cloak however was pushed to the side. His opponent much worse off, his cloak swinging him to the side and his blade wrenched out of his hands. Gven took that moment to run in and subdue him, smacking his blade into the side of his opponent.

Calkolh stood and walked over to Gensen, who stayed on the ground stunned until feeling cold steel on his neck. Calkolh stood over him with apathy. "Yield."

He raised his hands slowly with a sullen look in his eyes and nodded. "I yield."

Calkolh turned to see that Brentina had long subdued her opponent, and was watching from five yards away. She smiled for the first time he's seen since being with her. He smiles back. It felt good.

Turning away from the fallen foe, he walked back to Reaper who stood watching with a smile. The Reaper had grown a little stubble in their month's travel and looked quite energized despite the late-night hour. "Impressive that you can become that in tune with the earth ebb to that extent. I see you truly do progress quickly."

As he reached him, Calkolh felt a venom well inside of him. "Where were you?"

The Reaper simply shrugged. "Minding business. I told-"

"No, what you told us was that you were going to meet with other Grims." He heard the steps of Gven and Brentina walk up beside him over the mutterings of people musing about the fight. "Yet Rendon had no clue as to your whereabouts. And the meeting was concluded long before you came back."

As the Reaper opened his mouth to speak, Brentina interrupted him. "And you as well left your responsibility - us - to another Grim while you left. "

Calkolh impulsively took a step forward. "You think you could just leave for over an hour then come back as if nothing happened? Your own comrades didn' t know where you were. All you have to say is a quick compliment and leave the matter?"

The Reaper's face showed nothing, but his voice became dangerously low and soft. "I think," he said as his eyes began to softly shine, "That I can do what I wish and not be questioned by the likes of a boy. You should calm yourself." His eyes began to switch shades, moving between red, blue, purple, black, and green, shifting in a mesmerizing way. " You can still only make one color."

Calkolh blinked and stepped back, putting his eyes down and avoiding his gaze. "Now!" said the Reaper jovially, and when Calkolh looked up his eyes were back to normal. "As it was I did leave early, and though I apologize," he said with a slight emphasis, looking at Calkolh and Brentina respectively. "I did manage to find information concerning our contact. As it turns out, she's at StormsBlade, east of here. now that we have mounts acquired, or should soon at least, we could head out. We will stay for a week, give you time to relax and train. Be prepared, we leave soon."

Calkolh nodded, now realizing that he was closer to simply finishing this sky forsaken mission and going home. With a few more trivial remarks, they headed off to bed.

As they walked around the rim of the pit to head to the rooms, Gven asked, "Do you think we could do this without any more trouble?"

Brentina beat him to the answer. "No."

"Damn. How much longer do you think it will be before trouble comes?" Gven replied as if to gauge how long of a break they'd have. Calkolh had no delusions.

"Soon."

---

" Where could she be?" I mutter as I move my way back to the inn. The empty streets gave the usually busy town a sort of depravity. It shouldn't have taken this long to sell two hawks. It was had been past an hour since she left, maybe an hour and a quarter. After getting several simple clothes with my silvers, I went back to the inn to buy myself a sweet roll. When she still didn't return, I traveled to a different inn to ingratiate within a crowd that had a more talkative bard. The loud noises and cheers of merry men gave a home feel, and songs were sung too loudly and with aplomb. The rowdy noises roped me in for a few songs, but in the end I decided that the wordless music was more appealing at night.

Traveling back to the Grey Maiden, I walked past a brothel in which a rosy checked back stumbled out with a broad smile. Before the door closed again, the sound of giggles and laughter floated through before the door closed. Smiling and shaking my head, I continued my walk to the inn. Giving the bard a silver to keep playing I sat, requested a drink, and some bread to sate myself. The silver is pent now, and the bard has walked up to his room as I sit alone in the chamber. I ask Greeta if she has seen Phara since she left, and she says she has not before retiring for the night. I nurse my mug of cooled water as I wait for Phara, wondering what took her so long.

"Hey." Someone is tapping my shoulder as Phara' s voice wakes me. "You are acquainted with beds, yes? Sleeping in them was the purpose of them being placed in your room."

I open my eyes now fully awake, as Phara stands behind me. I don' t believe that I could have slept for more than five or ten minutes. She stands there, completely unconcerned as I rub my eyes and stretch myself out. "Where were you? They couldn't have held you up so long for two hawks."

She begins to walk up the stairs. " I happened to be in the town, doing what I wanted to do. You would do well to sleep tonight, and tomorrow as well. We leave quite soon, I assure you."

"Wait!" I say weakly as she walks up the stair, hand outstretched. She ignores me.

Sighing, I suppose she is right. As long as she doesn't leave me here, what she did doesn't matter. Though I am curious. And scared. At this point, I am aware that it is foolish for me to assume that she is turning me in. I still cannot help but be cautious. Though the longer she stays with me, turning me in makes put her in more danger as well, it is just the act of being here that scares me. I am always in danger.

Shaking my head clear, stand up. If I am going to be captured, I will be anyway. Might as well do so on a full night of sleep. Stumbling up the stairs, I smile as I think of how great tomorrow will be. I get to sleep, bathe AND put new clothes on.

This isn't half bad.