The outside of Katerin's childhood home was a sight to see, even in the darkness past twilight. Its windows were shuttered, and the stained wooden siding was still clean, despite the lack of light in the windows, and the lack of traffic through the door, since Imeiza's departure to Itrea. The guards standing around the entrance were not what she had been hoping to see, but she and Brazen strolled easily in front of the house, not even pausing before the guards. When they neared the street corner, Brazen leaned toward her.

"How do we get passed them?"

Katerin bit her lip. "Well, I doubt they ignored the back of the house, but there used to be a small wall. I think we could make it to the roof."

"Is there a way into the attic?"

Katerin nodded. "There is, but I don't know if it's still usable."

Brazen grinned. "We won't know until we try."

They both straightened, and offered slight smiles to the people they passed, as the circled around towards the back of the house. Small flower gardens were popular around these houses, and Katerin recognized several items her father had crafted for their neighbors. One door sported a knocker in the shape of a seahorse, another house had a small plate of iron along the fence that resembled crawling vines.

The back alley behind the house was just as she remembered it. Not too narrow, but muddy, with fences and walls defining a well-worn path. She had met Mordai and Kindra here frequently. She had skinned her knees and bruised her hands back here. And as she expected, there were three guards posted around the back of the house, never mind that there was no back door. There was a small yard on the side of the house, walled in as it was, but she knew better than to expect it to be empty. They walked down the alley, and Katerin turned left.

Once they were another alleyway down, the guards presence diminished.

"Why exactly do we have to go in?"

"Because Imeiza's things are still there, and she asked for them." She looked at the side of the house they stood before, where a series of latticework housed climbing and flowering vines. "Think those will hold?"

Brazen shrugged and glanced back and forth.

It took them a few tries in the evening's silence, before they made their way to the rooftops. For once, Katerin was happy the house was not closer to any of the walls, where the soldiers on watch could surely spot the pair.

They crouched on top of the first of many buildings, and by the time they made it back to the house, the torches beneath them were the only genuine source of light.

The guards held torches, and Katerin held her breath, as she whispered a spell over herself and Brazen, to quiet the sounds of the sizable jump they were about to make.

Brazen jumped first, and landed well, his arm catching on the sharp tile edges of the flat roof.

But Katerin did not quite have enough strength to vault herself as far up the roof, and her dangling foot caught a loose tile, causing it to crash to the street, and shatter.

Katerin's eyes grew wide as she heard the guards reacting. She cursed under her breath and tried to think of a way to hide.

Brazen gestured to the hatch in the roof. "Go!" he hissed, "I'll give them a good run."

"No. If you get arreste—"

"Hey!" one guard called, torch outstretched. "Get down from there!"

"Go!" Brazen waved his arm again, before standing. He turned to the guard, smiled. "What are you gonna do if I don't?"

Katerin lay flat on the roof, hoping the night could conceal her, as four of the soldiers took off down the road, chasing Brazen as he ran across rooftops. There were still two guards around the house, and now they circled like birds. Katerin calmed her racing heart, as Brazen disappeared from her sight. Reckless, she thought, swallowing back her worry over him.

The hatch was not locked, and surprisingly the hinges did not squeak as she pulled it open. Beneath her was a dusty, crate filled and low-ceilinged attic, with a lonely circular window.

She dropped in, and pulled the hatch closed behind her, thankful to whoever had thought to oil the hinges. Katerin covered her mouth with her sleeve and moved instinctually for the hatch that would let her into the rest of the house.

It was dark, and dust had gathered since her stepmothers departure. On the stove there was still a kettle, tins of tea in the kitchen, blankets and knickknacks where Imeiza had left them. Katerin brushed a hand across her face and crept through the house like a mouse crept through a food cellar. She began gathering the items her mother had asked for. Most of them were mundane. A certain shirt, her favorite smithing hammer, a bottle of forgotten perfume. As she traversed the house, she saw her fathers clothes, still hanging in the closet. She saw his comb and shaving set displayed where they had always sat on a shelf.

She saw the iron rose he had given her for a birthday, covered in dust and left to entertain the mice.

Her breath caught as she stared at everything the house contained.

Lodyne's voice did not surprise her when it came.

So sentimental, Katerin. Lodyne tsked. You let Brazen risk his safety to gather a bottle of perfume.

Katerin bit her tongue and ignored the words.

Do you think that she won't come back here? Do you think Imeiza will stay on Itrea with you? Do you not realize that your family is broken, no matter who you pull into your circles? You are only loosing friends with every step you take. And you are only hurting yourself, the more you pull away from me.

Katerin gritted her teeth as she stuffed items into her bag, and finally, she gave in her fight to ignore the voice.

I would rather pull away, then lose who I am.

Lodyne did not respond, and Katerin went about her business as quietly as she could.

When she was sure she was almost finished, she remembered the last items. With hesitant steps, she opened the hatch to the storeroom, and dropped within. She had been prepared for the dusty old space that held her fathers tools, but what she had not expected was the laboratory.

There were arcane scrolls, a series of crates topped with herbs and crystals, and other items she knew were not her mothers.

The place smelled perfumed, instead of musty, and on the table was a series of notes. A recipe of sorts, in an elegant hand. Her fingers brushed the parchment, and she blinked to study the space again, to ensure she was not dreaming.

Nowhere in the attic was anything of Mordai's, but unless her mother had suddenly taken a strange and advanced interest in the arcane, then she had no other ideas who might have turned her home into a workspace. His handwriting was unmistakable.

Is that why the house is watched? Are those guards looking for me, or protecting Mordai? The questions made her head ache, and she shook her head. What she could gather from the notes seemed mundane, and from the smattering of components, she would have guessed that whatever spell was being crafted, was not one to cause harm.

Disturbing as little as she could, she moved several crates aside, and pulled out a heavy roll of tools. Imeiza had her own, of course, and they were likely of finer or at least cleaner quality, but she insisted there was something to be said for the spirit of the tools. And so Katerin retrieved her fathers tools, moved the crates back to their previous positions, and left the storeroom behind.

She took one last longing glance at the house, and a cynical thought asked if she would ever see the place again. Though, she knew it had never been the same.

It took several hours for Brazen to find them at the inn, and he looked unharmed, save for a scrape across one cheek, and a face flushed from running.

Katerin had paced in her room since she had returned to find him missing. Fykes and Arjiah had both insisted chasing after him was a terrible idea, and though she knew they were right, the waiting felt like she was drowning.

As Arjiah cleaned, healed and bandaged his wound, he smiled to Katerin.

He had told the whole of the story of his chase through the city, as if it was the most exciting thing to ever happen.

Katerin slumped to the edge of her bed with a weary shake of her head. "That was reckless, and I want you to promise me you won't do it again."

"But, it worked out perfect."

"It could have been the opposite, Brazen. What if they caught you? Am I supposed to just walk into the prison?"

"Likely, he would've only been in for a night," Fykes said in Brazen's defense.

"But it could raise questions." Arjiah shrugged. "It worked, so I don't see why we're still talking about it."

"We should talk about finding Kindra," Brazen said.

Katerin raised an eyebrow at how easily he moved the topic. "I think she'll be in Saresbrook. But it's a couple days ride."

"I don't think it's wise that we all go," Arjiah said. "Besides. There's a lot to see in this city, and its quiet, right now. There might be things to learn."

"Two birds with one arrow?" Brazen said.

"But who stays and who goes?" Fykes asked, and his expression showed his curiosity.

"I should go look for Kindra," Katerin admitted. "And staying here is riskier by the day, for me."

"You two should go," Brazen spoke with surety.

Fykes head tilted in question.

"Jon said that... well, that you need alone time, and... well, we've been busy since the Stormlands and..."

Arjiah snorted, and Katerin shook her head.

"I will warn you now about listening to what Jon says. Most of it is lies, and the half that's true is not always expert advice," Katerin said, working as hard as she could to hide her smile. 

"But, it's a simple point," Brazen said, as if he missed the entirety of Katerin's warning. "Right?" he looked between Fykes and Arjiah.

"Right," Arjiah agreed, composing herself from her laughing fit.

"Do you and Do'vak get alone time?" Brazen asked, "Ky'Lei'Mei seems to not be too fond of privacy."

Now it was Fykes' turn to laugh, and Katerin could only shake her head.

Katerin and Fykes rode out of the city on horseback in the early morning of the next day. Their pace started slow, as they wove through the cart traffic towards the gates. Once they were past the thronging people, Fykes rode up next to her with a wide smile on his face.

They were an hour outside the city now, and there was no traffic on the side road they had taken.

"You know, sometimes you still look just as uncomfortable as you used to."

Katerin laughed, and glanced behind her, before letting the illusion spell fade once more. It was tiring to keep it up, and she did not know what else she might need her magic for. "And yet I've had so much practice."

"How long will we ride?"

"Only a day and a half, but the road gets narrow towards the village..."

"My gods, Katerin. Can you stop worrying for one half of a second?" Fykes looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"She might not even be there, and if she isn't there, then we are wasting time while the armies are marching for something... The Syndicate knows I'm in the city, now. I..." Katerin pinched the bride of her nose.

"You are riding a beautiful horse, on a beautiful countryside," Fykes said, "Let it go for just a moment."

Katerin took a deep breath and chuckled. "I guess I'm the tour guide, now." She reached down and patted her horses side as they walked. "Though, with all the sketching I doubt you'll see many of the sights."

"I see everything of importance, and I put it right here." Fykes tapped his cloak, and the leather bound sketchbook within.

Riding north of the city was a beautiful sight, and the surrounding plains morphed, so that by the evening, the two rode through the sparse beginnings of a pine forest. The grasses were golden, and insects chirped from within the many folds, as the horses hooves created music.

The morning they had left, Katerin's thoughts had been terrified. She was angry at Mordai, scared for Hearth-Home, worried for Kindra, and nervous about leaving Brazen and Arjiah in the city to uncover whatever they could about the plot unfolding within.

But now, as evening began to fall, and the breeze grew chilled, those worries had departed. She dismounted from her horse, and she and Fykes went about picketing them, and pitching a small tent among the small bushes and drying grass on the roadside. As they went about setting up their small camp, memories took the place of worries, and she remembered Fykes, when they had first met.

He still wore the same ratty cloak, though he now wore heavier armor, and the color in his hair had shifted away from white, to fully lavender. Ahlindrion was the only sword he wore on his hip, now, but she did not mind that at all. He fought as elegantly as he always had.

Maybe it was just that she knew him so much better, but in all her effort, she could not imagine anyone she would want beside her more, on a night like this. As the fire began charcoalizing the first of what would be many twigs, Fykes pulled his sketchbook from his cloak and sat cross-legged on the ground.

Katerin laughed despite herself, remembering her first ride through the hills of Itrea and how he had scared her with all his surety and lack of attention. She knew now that he was not as he had first seemed. While she warmed her hands, she wondered what had made her so angry towards him, in those first days.

Maybe it was the mischief in his eyes, the ever-ready smile, or that he was confidant in almost any situation. He was not, of course, nearly as mischievous or confident as he appeared, but.... It was funny how the things she had once despised in him had become the very things she was terrified to live without.

Her dream with Lodyne entered her mind, and that apparition of Fykes was behind her eyes when she closed them. But that was not him. He would never be so cruel as he had been in that dream. Not to anyone, even if it was his enemy. And in the moment she felt lucky to know him so well.

"I love you," she said, watching him as his hair fell before his face, and his eyes darted around the scenery while his charcoal sketched whatever scene he saw. As she spoke she felt a strange feeling. She meant those words, and it was almost surprising.

Halemeda had given her plenty of lectures on love and its pitfalls. But she felt very few of those with Fykes, and she did not fully understand it. She knew many a scholar who thought love was a force like the arcane, with beginnings just as mystical. But it did not feel unexplainable, even though she could not name the exact reason. She had a thousand reasons—a thousand details, but even all together, they did not make the reason. Maybe there was not one, or maybe it was simply a force she had not studied.

He paused and regarded her from behind his hair. "And I, you." He studied her posture, and the look in her eyes. "What is it that has you so enraptured?"

Katerin's hands clasped. "I'm reminiscing, is all." She laughed. "I still find it funny how much dislike I held for you, once."

"Everyone comes around, eventually." He winked.

There was that charming smile that made her feel so light.

"Me, more so than most?"

Fykes nodded. "More so than most."

Katerin bit her lip, and began removing the ties from her hair. "What did you think of me, when we first met?"

Fykes blinked and set his sketchbook down. "A lot of things. For one, I thought you would have a terrible time on Itrea, with how you and Graiden got along."

"I was already having a terrible time. I think somewhere I had deluded myself to believe that finding Sulea would be as simple as showing up and announcing my presence."

"And you called me princely," Fykes tone was teasing.

"It took time to see the immaturity beneath the facade... can you blame me?"

"I could, but I choose to be the bigger man."

Katerin snorted. "Sure."

Fykes face grew pensive. "At first I thought you didn't have the will to go through with your plan... but after we fought the Uhma'zarhin's, you changed my mind."

"With my crying, or my snotty nose?"

"With your compassion. You didn't just ignore them, as though they didn't matter. You even set your own goals aside, if momentarily, to help Ky'lei'mei and O'siaris."

An owl hooted from somewhere in the plains, and Katerin glanced in hopes to see it. "If you'll remember, I didn't say yes to Avris without my own reasons." She took her time responding, enjoying the moment, the silence, and the feeling of freedom.

"You would have done it, anyway." Fykes' tone belayed the surety he held in his words and her character.

Katerin thought for a moment. "Regardless, I'm glad I did.... Why did you draw that butterfly?"

His look grew sheepish. "You seemed... nervous of the wilderness. I thought the butterfly might show you that there was beauty in it, too."

"You have a tendency to see a brighter side that I am apparently fond of missing." Katerin sighed as the sky darkened so that she could only see his face in the firelight. "See any bright sides here?"

"Of course. The people you love are safe, soon you will reunite with an old friend who doesn't hate my guts, and you've even grown more popular in Hearth-Home, while you were away."

Katerin snorted and gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "Two of the people I care about are still in a city that's falling apart. Kindra might be very far away, and a wanted poster is not what I would call good publicity."

"You asked me for the positives. There they are." Fykes looked at the faint blue lines that showed on her face following them to where they hid behind her chlothing. "Here's a simpler one, you never have to worry about seeing anything in the dark again."

Katerin closed her eyes, and focused on the magic in the mark, until the lines glowed softly. "Oh yes, the best perk of all. Never mind the magical enhancement. I don't have to stumble about in the dark."

"It's not a simple feat to take a piss and hold a torch at the same time. Accidents have happened." Fykes shifted to hide his wide grin, poking the fire with a stray stick. "In all seriousness, how are you? Each time I feel like we'll have a moment to speak about it, we're already off again." His face turned soft, concerned.

Katerin sighed. "I feel like I'm going insane." She bit her tongue. "The dreams have only gotten worse... Lodyne can speak to me when I'm awake now."

Fykes released a heavy breath, noting the pain in her eyes. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," she spoke the words in angered defeat. "There's nothing to be done. I feel as though I've stumbled into a bees nest, and I can't outrun them. I don't know why... or how... I just." Her composure broke with no warning, and she dropped her face to her hands.

A moment passed, and Fykes was pulling her towards his chest, and holding her in his arms.

"It's okay," he whispered, and it was the most soothing thing she had heard in months. He kissed the top of her head, as her arms wrapped around him. "We'll figure something out."

"I don't want to help her... and I question everything. I can't look anywhere without fear of her words, or motives hiding somewhere within it."

Fykes was silent while she sobbed, and he waited for her breathing to calm before he spoke again. "If you didn't choose her, why not choose another god? Give your energy to another."

"And anger Lodyne?"

"Is she not already angry?"

"I don't know." Katerin sniffled while she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I couldn't tell you what she is, aside from determined to torture me. The things she shows me... I don't know if any of it is real. Kul Galysa told me that those who bear this mark have important dreams."

"Prophetic dreams?"

Katerin threw up her hands. "I can never tell if they are there on their own, or if they only come to me because of Lodyne's pestering." The inability to know which was which, tore at her like a freshly sharpened blade.

Fykes said nothing more, only holding her in the firelight, while the stars above them danced across the sky.