Istvan led Annastaria and Bastillina upriver for about a mile until they came to a small, single-boat dock resting in a peaceful area on the river. The boat was tied up, waiting in the water. There was room for the three, and they each got in, where Istvan used the small engine installed on the back and had the three sailing upriver, which eventually came to a large lake surrounded mostly by hills, but with many forests made up of pine trees. Both Annastaria and Bastillina took in the sights, trying to take in the totality of the scenery with a single gaze. But there was too much to succeed at such a hope. Bastillina, though living in Oenkev all her life, never dreamed she would see what the north looked like. She never expected it to be what it was. It was better than the paintings. The sun bore through a thin overcast, shining through as slanted pillars of light, highlighting the trees throughout the forests. And birds larger than Bastillina had ever seen sailed overhead, as though they were welcoming her to the wilderness of Oenkev.
Annastaria kept her eyes and ears open, listening to the gentle swooshes and splashes of water pattering against the boat, distinguishing from the buzzing engine and the wilderness around her, listening for anything unusual in the woods surrounding the lake. As she looked over Bastillina’s head, her scan caught Bastillina with her eyes swelling with tears. “What is it?” Annastaria asked her.
Bastillina shook her head as she continued to take in the sight, “It’s just… amazing… I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Annastaria looked up at Istvan, who sat in the back behind Bastillina, controlling the engine. He returned her look with a smile through his graying beard. Though they didn’t speak, Annastaria somehow knew he was thinking of their conversation about Bastillina; how she and the girl had some kind of ‘connection’. In a sense, it was as if he was telling her through his silent smile that Bastillina was hers to care for. The thought made Annastaria more unsure than she had ever been, and uncomfortable.
“Your sister here tells me that you’ve not seen the world outside Levaan.” Istvan said to Bastillina. She turned to him with a smile on her face, and through her teary eyes.
“Never.” she replied, wiping a tear.
“What do you think of the outside world?”
“It’s lovely, Mr. Istvan! Just lovely, and amazing!” She turned to absorb more of the scenery again, the forests to the west, the mountains in the distant north, and the creatures she had never seen before. Even this large lake; she has never seen so much water. “What more could there be?” she asked.
“Oh, there is much more to see.” Istvan answered, drawing Bastillina’s pale, blue eyes to him again, “There is a whole world out there, beyond the constraints of the urban city of Levaan. And I can tell you, dear child, once you get just a taste of the world beyond, you realize just how small you really are. And that is not a poor thing to realize.” Bastillina’s smile seemed to glow even more, which made Annastaria smile helplessly as well. She couldn’t understand what was so contagious about the innocent smile of Bastillina, a little thief who sinned against her. Whatever it was, it made the burden of missing their train fall from her shoulders entirely.
Istvan was a good man, the best she had yet seen. If there was anyone she would be willing to leave Bastillina with, it would be him. Part of her was tempted to ask him to take her, but she couldn’t shake the thought of Bastillina’s eyes, and her need to inquire further on the matter. Perhaps some day, Bastillina might be able to stay here; she seemed to fall in love with it. For now, she had to bring the girl further, to her people in Farik, and to keep her instincts about her secret until then.
“I am so totally cool with missing the train now.” Bastillina added, chuckling. It contagiously took Istvan, who chuckled and even Annastaria.
“You see?” Istvan said, “Everything happens for a purpose, even the things that seem bad at first.”
Annastaria couldn’t help but feel as though those words were for her, and about her missing their train. What else could he be referring to? But the statement reminded her of the misfortune, and she had to fight the instinct to look pessimistically upon it. The best she had was Bastillina’s joy.
“We are headed to the northwestern shorelines of Carzat Lake.” Istvan said, “Once there, it’s a forty-mile journey to Whitehold.”
“That is still a great distance we must go, and now on foot.” Annastaria said.
“Worry not, my dear. I have a friend across the lake who can provide us transportation. I will have you two in Whitehold in a pint’s check.”
Annastaria didn’t understand the idiom, but figured it meant quickly. She was just happy that whatever it referred to, it clearly meant something good.
For the next fifteen minutes, they continued on the peaceful waters of Carzat Lake, until they reached the shore of the northwest point, which was wooded and hilly. Istvan led the two through the mystic-like woods, with tall trees that seemed never to end. Bastillina was glad that she now had pants rather than worn-down overalls to wear. Her light but thick pants, provided by Annastaria, allowed her to feel the brush, but not be scathed by it. She continued to try and capture every tree, and count every bush, forgetting where she last saw Annastaria and Istvan at times. As she had never seen so much water as Carzat Lake in the dense urban place of downtown Levaan, so too she had never been in the midst of so many trees.
The birds sang constantly, and in so many different ways she never imagined before. She saw many birds in Levaan, but could hardly hear them with the persistent noise of the city. Here their tranquil singing was crystal clear, echoing through the land. She was startled to see some deer, but was yet caught with awe at their beauty. “So many birds.” she said, “And so many other animals–and trees! I can’t believe how amazing it is!”
Annastaria smiled. Istvan gave a small chuckle and said as he led the two, “During the day, the woods are certainly a place of mysticism and adventure. During the night? You might be content with large, brick buildings, young lady.”
Bastillina was put off by those words. “Why is that?” she asked.
“It’s difficult to say, really. All I can tell you is that where men dwell not, myths and stories do.”
Annastaria became interested. Her smile dropped, and she looked at Istvan. “What kinds of stories have you heard about the Oenkev wilderness?” she asked him.
“That is a short, yet difficult question to answer, I am afraid.” He paused for a moment, and by now, Bastillina was interested in what he had to say. “What I can say,” he continued, “is that there was a time when sorcerers ruled the forests of Oenkev. Druids and even ancient wizards inhabited these places, and while many fairy tales tell of great deeds of wizards, the truth is that they were not so great, according to history.”
“None of them were?” Bastillina asked, “I always saw big signs and stuff with cool pictures of wizards in long, gray robes, big beards and pointy hats with a cool staff, and they always seemed so friendly.”
Istvan nearly laughed, as did Annastaria. Both knew the caricature that these were. “Those are very… soft images.” Istvan answered, “The real wizards were not so simple.”
“I read that they began to create those foolish images because of the aenmen who ruled over these lands many years ago.” said Annastaria, “And that they desired to remove the stain of the ancient wizards and their wickedness.”
“That is primarily true.” Istvan answered, “The kinds of things the wizards of old did were great and terrible. It took all the might of the primes and the Magisterial Order to end their blight.”
“So hold on a minute…” said Bastillina, “These wizard guys… are they… still around here?”
Istvan couldn’t help a small chuckle. But he knew she was just a little girl, well outside of the world she only knew. “Rest assured, young lady,” he said, “the wizards we speak of are long gone. The terror they brought came to an end many ages ago.”
Bastillina could feel a sigh of relief. But she still didn’t relinquish her worry for what else might be out there. “I still hear about stories, though.” she said, “Even in Levaan.”
“Oh? What might those be?”
“Goblins, dragons and witches. I mean, I come from the city, and I readily admit that I don’t know anything about the world out here—and I know how dumb those stories sound… but they had to come from something true, right?”
Annastaria and Istvan looked at each other, smiling both at Bastillina’s inquisitive attitude. “You have a very insightful young lady.” he said. He then turned to Bastillina and continued, “You are very right, young Bella. And it is quite an encouragement to see that you can make such a deduction as that. Keep it up; you will need it as you continue on… But to answer your question, it is very true. The crudest and most absurd stories of myth and legend almost certainly originated in some truth, diluted with folklore and embellished storytelling.”
That statement from Istvan quickly raised a question in Annastaria’s mind that she couldn’t help but ask, “Would that include the Black Priest?” She and Istvan looked at each other then, nearly frozen that the question so glibly left Annastaria’s mouth.
“Who’s that?” Bastillina inevitably asked.
“Another legend, I am afraid.” Istvan said, hoping to help Annastaria downplay the foolish question.
Bastillina wasn’t satisfied with the reply, but didn’t press further. Annastaria felt her cheeks warm; another embarrassing strike against her this day. For some reason, she was blundering about with this girl nearby.
It was another ten minutes of walking through the woods, the clouds beginning to break up at this point. They came to a group of homes on the northern edge of the woods. There was a horse barn as well, and Bastillina looked at the many beautiful specimens that roamed the fenced area. She called Annastaria to look at them with her, who had to pretend to be fascinated. She tried to sympathize with Bastillina, knowing that this girl was experiencing so many new things so quickly. There was much that Annastaria saw that surprised her, most especially Levaan itself. But out here, she was reminded of all the wilderness that Sarke had to offer and little more.
As they approached the houses, another elderly man came out to greet them. He was a peasant of some kind, and did not dress as though the Industrial Era was even happening. “Janven!” Istvan said to the man, who greeted back warmly as well. The two hugged, and exchanged a pair of grateful jokes to one another. As with Georgine, Istvan introduced Annastaria and Bastillina to the man, using their alibis, which left Annastaria speechless. He knew Bastillina’s name, but he still used the alibi Annastaria gave to her. Why was he protecting them?
“I require your assistance, my old friend.” Istvan continued, “I must get these two to Whitehold and you were the only one to come to mind.”
“I see.” said Janven, looking at Annastaria, “Not fond of the trains, are we?” He had a significant Oenian accent, much like Georgine.
“We lost our train.” Annastaria clarified.
“Ah. Well, have no fear, lass. Old Janven has you covered! I assume you two are good people, else Istvan would not have brought you here.”
“We need help to get to Whitehold.” Annastaria said, repeating Istvan’s words, “It would be well by four, to make up our lost time.”
“Not a problem, lass! Why don’t you two come inside, and freshen up? I will prepare our horses. I’m headed out north anyway.”
“Horses?” Bastillina said as they were led inside. Her excitement started to rise as she looked to Annastaria, “We’re going to ride horses?”
Istvan chuckled, “Not necessarily, but Janven prefers the old fashioned means of transport. We will be going by wagon. It’s a little less subtle in terms of the ride than the engine cars, but it is an experience I think would be great for any of us.”
“You are coming with us?” Annastaria asked.
“Of course. I said I would see you to Whitehold, and I aim to keep that promise.”
“But what of the water you were carrying earlier? Is that not important?”
Istvan laughed slightly and replied, “That was water for an old engine car that I was working on this afternoon. It’s not something I was in a hurry to do, just something I do on pass time. And it’s also good exercise for my old, aching body.”
His comments put Annastaria in a pause, reflecting on the graciousness of this man. She couldn’t help it anymore, and the question leaped out of her mouth, “Why are you doing this for us?”
Istvan paused a moment, as if Annastaria’s words struck him to shock, and his smile vanished quickly. But it returned a moment later. “Come, my dear.” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “You’ve asked too many questions for now. We can talk more on the ride.”
Istvan’s reaction hooked Annastaria, but she said nothing more. He led the two of them inside, where they were introduced to the rest of Janven’s family; his wife, four sons and one daughter, as well as their lively dog, which Bastillina enjoyed playing with, along with Janven’s daughter, who was about her age. Annastaria spoke most to Istvan. She didn’t know why, but she was more comfortable with him than the others. He was beginning to remind her of her own elders, and perhaps in some sense, her father. He was a man with the intelligence of Gennades, but the soft heart of her father. He was a joyful man, filled with small, innocent but pithy jokes and remarks, and his joy only seemed to increase when he was with the children.
No aenman made Annastaria smile and even succumb to laughter as he did. He was simply a joy to be around. And yet, she could tell that underneath all of that was a man with a deep knowledge and wisdom of things she could only wonder of, and despite the softness, Annastaria had seen that he was capable of poignant, sharp and crucial questioning. He was innocent as a dove, yet like a serpent, wise and perceptive. He was a rare kind, one she certainly did not expect to bump into, literally, and most certainly out in this place. By now, almost all of her anxiety over the loss of the train had disappeared, and she felt as though she made a true friend among the aenmen. It caused her to question what her elders bore into her mind about them. Were they all really so bad?
After twenty minutes of resting and fellowship, waiting for Janven to prepare the wagon, Annastaria, leading Bastillina and following Istvan, boarded, saying goodbye to Janven’s kind family, and were refreshed with water and food to continue on their journey.
They were off and on the road, moving into another section of the woods due north. As Istvan had predicted, it was a rocky ride, and not suitable for a nap. Janven’s carriage had a plastic arch to protect them from any rainfall that might come down, but there were openings for them to observe scenery they came across. Bastillina continued her scanning of the woods, not wanting to miss anything.
The ride was quiet for the first few minutes, leaving Istvan and Janven to talk casually about their lives in Oenkev, the home of Janven and the small town of Bestolon. Janven mentioned one of his sons preparing to go to university, which he was not comfortable with, but did not want to withhold his son from seeking out his purpose in life. It was a worldview that Annastaria found strange. She couldn’t understand how a boy would want to so drastically divert from his family’s tradition. She understood that universities were a good thing, but could not see how one would be so willing to depart so much from their home, and that the boy’s father would be okay with it. In her home, the community always came before the individual; it was the collective effort of the elves and their faith in the gods as a covenant people that was how society was to successfully function. She wondered if this was the reason the western society of aenman chaos prevailed. So much separation from one another could not hope to produce a peaceful society. The aenman world since the fall of the elves did not have much to show for in terms of peace and kindness towards neighbors, that was certain.
An hour passed, and they came over a large river, through more dense woods and past some cliffs on their right. Once more, Bastillina was in awe of the sight of the waterfalls that came down off the cliffs from up to forty feet high and into the river below. The most she had ever seen in Levaan was the small artificial streams in the parks.
“Let’s pull off here.” Istvan said to Janven, “We’ve been riding for some time, and should take a few moments to stretch, and relax our pelvises, hmph!”
Annastaria was uncomfortable with the move, feeling the anxiety of time passing by, but she didn’t protest. They stopped at the river, just over the bridge on the west side, and came nearer to the waterfall, which relentlessly spilled white-colored water down from above, splashing upon jagged rock formations on its way down. They were about forty feet from the fall, yet Bastillina could feel the mist produced from the crashing water, and the cool air pushed out onto her. She enjoyed the view, but the berating of cold mist on her face was too much for more than a few seconds of looking. Janven joined Bastillina in her small adventure to scout the river, while helping her to know not to get too close to the quick-moving water.
Annastaria stepped away from the wagon for a bit, with the large cliffs on her right and more forest to the left, forward and back. She was hoping to visualize the remainder of their journey when Istvan came up to her. She did not look at him, but could hear him approaching, even with the raging waterfall. “It has been at least an hour.” she said, examining the position of the sun. “The sun is to the west, which is ahead of us.”
“That means we are passing around the Udraez Groves.” Istvan replied, “Once we are past them, it’s a straight shot north, out of the woods and into Whitehold. The river here will be our main guide; it goes directly to the city.”
“Are you sure we will be in Whitehold by four?”
Istvan was humored by Annastaria’s obsession with being on time, as if it made any difference whether she made it there by four, or by seven; either way, she wasn’t going any further once she arrived. “We will be there by nightfall.” he said, with a smirk on his face.
Annastaria noticed his smile, and knew what it was about. She looked down, as if a sense of shame came over her. “I am sorry for always bringing that up.” she said. She paused a moment, and Istvan remained silent, but interested in what she was going to say next. “I grew up under a special order of elvish warriors. It was put into us to be timely people… to always be mindful of our time.” She had more to say, but couldn’t find the words, or at least the strength to utter them.
“I understand.” Istvan said. He never expected her to open up like this. She was admitting that she was an elvish agent. “I once was a man of a mind like that.” he continued, drawing Annastaria’s eyes and interest to him, “But eventually, after so much… blundering, I learned that God was in control of time, not I. Or perhaps ‘learning’ is not the proper word. More like accepting the truth.”
Annastaria was perplexed. “God?” she asked, “You mean… you believe in only one god?”
Istvan smiled again, as if caught in his words, “I’m afraid so… But that is a conversation for perhaps another day.” He looked over his shoulder, to Bastillina and Janven, making sure to see if they were well preoccupied; Annastaria noticed the glance. “Right now,” he began, with his voice more serious, “I need to speak to you about what lies ahead.” Annastaria stepped closer to him, and began to question in her mind what he was going to say.
“Do you have more information about him?” she asked. She found herself hesitant to even utter his name at this point.
“I cannot say for certain… Erene, you must understand what Bastillina said earlier was very true–myths and legends always originate from some form of the truth.”
“I do not understand how this helps me.”
Before she finished the sentence, Istvan reached into his book bag and pulled out a hardcover book, brown in color and old and worn. It had only a ritualistic design within a diamond engraving on the front, and it silenced Annastaria upon seeing it. He held it before her, deliberately trying to keep it from being seen by Janven or Bastillina. “This,” he said, “is an old book of mine, from the university. I took it with me when I left.” Annastaria gently gripped it to take it from Istvan’s own hands and he let it go. It felt heavy, but not simply from its weight.
“What is in it?” she asked.
“Records; history. It contains information regarding many important historical events of the dark ages, just as the Magisterium rose from the ashes of the elvish kings. It is written in elvish, and so I am sure you can read it.”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
Istvan paused, resetting himself to answer Annastaria’s question. “This book is a collection of creatures of the ancient world that are believed to be extinct now. Much of what Bella had mentioned earlier is found in here. You may find it useful moving forward.”
Annastaria thought for a moment. He didn’t answer her question the way she wanted. She felt like there was something else he was not saying directly. “Most of such creatures are no longer dwelling in this world as they once were.” she said, “I still am not understanding for what purpose you are giving to me this.”
“In the year 1077, a Carathien bishop and his ward were investigated for their roles in colluding with Enshyn arbiters. Two years later, a conspiracy was revealed from this bishop and his ward that they were plotting to use Enshyn mercenaries to help create a war in the Unnesserian lands. During this time, reports came in of what people could only have described as shadows within the temple ward of this very bishop, days leading up to his apparent suicide before he could be arrested. In 1497, just thirteen years ago, another conspiracy, this one involving Centauri guards with cardinals over several territories, near the borders of the Vale, where you are from. Shortly after, citizen reports of possessions came out, and reports of ‘shadows’ seen in what the people described in the area as darkness amidst the night skies.”
“Why are you telling me this? You are not suggesting that what I seek is connected to these, are you?”
“Not at all. What I am telling you, Erene, is that this book chronicles these kinds of creatures, what writings we have of them, even long forgotten ones. But what it also tells us is that in recent history, the dark forces of the world, ever since the Magisterial Order has been able to take greater control of northern Eldreon, have been less… direct, one might say. The closer you come to our time, the more they seem difficult to find, and yet treacherous, unruly men of power still reside with us.”
“Are you saying that… there might be more to this quest than what I am seeing?”
“I’m saying that things are not always what they seem; remember the lymos weed, Erene. The industrialization of Enussia, and the progression of technology and civilization has concocted the unfortunate idea that ancient evils are either removed from our world, or entirely mythical in nature. As a result, we have become accustomed towards ignorance to creatures that once were very real. As the silly images of wizards you see today desensitize you to the reality of the ancient wizards–and may even lead you to think they never even existed–so too do our modern depictions of ‘devils’ and ‘horsemen’ and vampires desensitize us to what these creatures really, and truly were, roaming even these woods once in the ancient world. As I said, I do not know what more I can tell you that will aid you in your search for this man, but I do know that there are many stories such as these connected with him, whether he is a myth or not. I know I comforted Bella by telling her that the ancient wizards were gone… But the truth is, darkness is not something you destroy, you just chase it away with light. That is why I give you this. Maybe it will help you moving forward.”
“But my quest is about the Black Priest, not these ancient legends.”
“Erene.” Istvan said, nearly interrupting her, “If you are going to track the legend known as the Black Priest, you will inevitably be encountering something from the darkness, and make no mistake, my dear, it will try and reach out to grab hold of you… and the girl.”
Annastaria swallowed. His eyes seemed to bulge further and further the more he spoke, as well as his words becoming heavier. She broke eye contact with him as her only way to collect her thoughts, looking over his shoulder to a playful Bastillina and Janven, who was showing her fish in the water. “We must continue forth.” Annastaria said, “If I cannot get to Whitehold by four, then I must at least be there before nightfall.”
“That much is true… Take this book. Use it. It is far more useful in your hands than mine.”
They continued their journey, and within three hours, out of the woods across open hills, and through a valley, Whitehold appeared before them. It was another industrialized city like Levaan, and it meant that Annastaria would have to endure yet another industrial-infested and congested area. The marvel of these cities did not take away from them how they overwhelmed her senses. Bastillina was happy this was not Levaan, but she did not care for the large cities anymore. To her, much of this was all familiar, just in an unfamiliar city.
Istvan and Janven pulled off to the side of the road, just on the outskirts of the city, next to the highway that came in from the southeast. Where they stopped, they could see the west for nearly twenty miles, with tall buildings in the distance, and mountains beyond them. Just above the jaded mountains was the sun, preparing to set in only a few short hours. Standing on a hill under a tree that looked north to the city, the four of them came off the wagon and stood together to say their goodbyes. Janven gave Bastillina a little necklace with a fairy carved into the stone pendant.
“Take this.” he said as he bent down towards her, “It’s a little something I made.”
Bastillina took it, and looked at the little turquoise gems that sparkled the wings of the fairy. “Wow!” she exhaled, “This is lovely! Did you make this?”
“I make these out of some of the adaegur rocks in the woods.”
“What’s an… adaegur rock?” Bastillina asked. Annastaria listened closely and could hardly believe what Janven revealed that the pendant was made out of, but didn’t say anything.
“They are mystical rocks.” said Janven in a hushed voice, “They are believed to be magical in nature, which attracts the fairies in our lands. It is a gift for you.”
Bastillina grew a big smile, and gave Janven a big hug and thanked him joyously for the gift.
Istvan smiled at the moment as he came to Annastaria. The two looked at each other, and he became more serious. “We depart here, I’m afraid.” he said to her.
Annastaria smiled at him, “Thank you, Istvan… For everything you have done. I will not forget you.”
“Hmph! You speak as though we’ll not see each other again. I’m always in these areas, in case you ever find yourself back here again, and in need of anything else, of course.”
“I am grateful for that, Istvan.” She paused then, contemplating what she was about to say, and if it was good to say or not. But she had grown to like Istvan so much in these last few hours, and saw no deception in him. “And please… My name is Annastaria. My people call me Anne for short.”
Istvan paused, and was somewhat surprised at what she said. “Fascinating.” he replied, “Your name… it’s not elvish.”
Annastaria was startled. She never thought of that before. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean it is not elvish. That name comes from the Omatar language; it means ‘Grace’.”
Annastaria was sent into a pause yet again. Such a thought had never crossed her mind. Istvan saw the shock in her face, and hoped to relieve the tension with an innocent smile. “Just a little fun-fact.” he said, “Quite fascinating, no?”
Annastaria gave out her held-in breath with a small laugh. “It is.” she replied, “Very, very… fascinating.” She had to word the last word slowly, as if saying it for the first time.
“Still learning Durish, are we?” he said back.
“I am always still learning.”
“Well, there is a great word for you. I am sure it will be useful for many moments in your journey.”
The two were quiet again, and the light tone of the conversation dropped. Istvan knew their time was short, and got serious again. “Anne,” he said to her quietly, “though we depart here, I want you to be careful out there. Remember what I said to you earlier. With something as complex as the Black Priest, things are not so simple.”
Annastaria listened quietly and with focus as he spoke. “I will keep my eyes open.” she said.
“Your ears as well, child. I do not know how you came to know about him and where he is… In fact, I doubt you’ve truly found him.” Annastaria was startled again, but did not interrupt him, “But however you have, it must also be wary of.”
Now she had to ask, “What do you mean by this?”
“There is no more time for me to explain the complexities further; that is why I gave you this book. Take it, and use it. What purpose it will serve you, I do not know. All I know for certain is that I hope you know what you must do with Bella before you encounter whatever it is your people have found farther west of here. For her sake, I do not know who can be trusted.”
“My people can be trusted Istvan.” she asserted sternly.
Istvan took an unusual and vague pause at her firm words. He looked at the blissful Bastillina and Janven again, as if to have swallowed something he wanted to say in response. Annastaria’s eyes almost narrowed on him as she observed his expression. He looked back at her and forced a smile, “As I said, no more time to speak further. You must be off now. I must also–it is not safe to be out in the woods at night… Farewell, Annastaria. Watch over that girl, keep her safe. Whatever may happen, you must not let any harm come to her.”
“I will get her to my people.”
“That is not what I meant, Anne.” he said, startling Annastaria, “You, and you alone, must keep her safe.”
Annastaria became uncomfortable, and wanted to inquire further, but there was no more time. They had to get moving, and Istvan could not stay any longer. What he gave was all she could have now. With that, she and Bastillina departed their company, walking the rest of the way to Whitehold. Istvan and Janven watched from the hill, next to the wagon, as they progressed further and further from the two. Annastaria looked back a few times as they walked, something she did not do with her own people before she left.
“Did you see what Janven gave me?” said Bastillina.
“I did.” Annastaria replied, “It was very gracious of him. The stone that it is made from is quite valuable.”
Bastillina continued to look at it, and her pondering on it reminded Annastaria of her own pendant, and the extra pendant with it. “So what’s next?” Bastillina asked.
“Next,” Annastaria said with a sigh, as if to prepare for a new chapter in their journey, “we must find a place to sleep for the night. And get you washed.”
“I don’t smell that bad, do I?”
“You do. If you hope to remain with me much longer, you will not be destroying my ability to smell proper and good things.”
A silence followed, and the two suddenly became aware of the highway to their left, with engine cars passing along it, and the crunching of dried leaves upon the ground that had fallen from the trees they were walking through.
“Erene.” Bastillina said, waiting for Annastaria to look at her before continuing, “Thanks again, for taking me out of that miserable city. It’s been an amazing journey so far.”
Annastaria said nothing for a few seconds, absorbing the weight that Bastillina did not realize in her gratitude. She had no idea who had taken her in, and what it would mean if Bastillina continued with her. “Do not thank me so soon.” she said back, “You have a debt to me to pay.”
Bastillina felt a sting of coldness from Annastaria and it froze her warm gratitude towards her. She remained quiet, but sorrow fell over her. Annastaria saw it, and felt pity, but fought the temptation to give in and comfort her. She didn’t want Bastillina to get any sense that there was a bond between them. Annastaria knew it would compromise her. It was then she thought that leaving Bastillina with Istvan might have been a better option for her. The thought made Annastaria turn around one last time to see Istvan and Janven watching them from atop the hill. But when she looked, they were nowhere to be found.
Masters of Eldreon 