Emory held Shay back as she screamed in horror. In the distance, fire colored the twilight sky. It raged on, its flames consuming everything around it. Tears streamed down her face as she held her, restraining her grief with her arms.

It was gone.

"This is my fault."

Emory smiled at Ingrid as she slipped a few packages of herbs and mixtures into the horse's saddle. "Thanks. Hopefully we won't be needing those."

"Well, if we don't they'll make a good tea." Ingrid tried to smile but couldn't look Emory in the eye. She couldn't look anyone in the eye. They all watched her, their glares burning into her skin. No longer was she hiding from them. Gone was her old gray hair and sagging skin. They sneered at her beauty, cursed at her beneath their breath.

All this time they had been living with a witch in their village. All this time they had let a witch hide within their village. Ingrid kept her head down, afraid that one look would end a life. If that happened, she knew that that life wouldn't be her own.

"I've never liked tea," Shay joined in the conversation as she threw a blanket over the back of the horse. She turned to her companions with a nod. "That's everything. It's time to say goodbye."

"To who?" Ingrid sighed before grabbing the lead of the horse. "I'll bring this guy over to where the vineyards start. Don't take too long."

Emory and Shay turned to the crowd of people who had gathered before them. Many of them bore carnations, gathered from their personal gardens. Emory looked to a few of the other young women she had come to know. They weren't quite friends, but they were close enough. A few older people went up to Shay, wishing her a good journey, but the girls approached Emory with an object.

"We wanted to thank you for everything you had done for us." Quinn, a girl only a few years younger than Emory handed her the rectangular item, wrapped in a scrappy clothe. "It isn't much," she chuckled and gestured to the girls around her. "We just thought you might like it, so..."

Shay looked over and watched as Emory smiled in thanks before unwrapping her gift. It was a book. The face was leather, and the pages were well-worn with the hands of past readers. Flipping it open, a drawn map of Eden greeted her eyes. She looked for a second longer before flipping through the rest of the pages to see that it told the history of Eden. "A history book?"

"Just a small one. Every so often you mention wanting to see more of Eden, and we thought this might help you decide on where to go. For when you finally get a break from all of this." Another girl chimed up, excited to explain their gift.

Emory began to give the girls hugs, and Shay was pulled away by more people to where she couldn't see her friend. All of the people worshipped Shay, but she couldn't shake the feeling that none of them really loved her. Not in the way they loved Emory.

"Daughter, we have been blessed to have you this long. Please, accept our gifts in the name of Rosalind." An older man grabbed Shay's hand, placing in it a carnation and a few coins.

"Oh, I can't accept this." Shay tried handing the money back but he refused, shoving her hand away.

"You'll need to buy something eventually."

More people came forward, sitting flowers at her feet and coins within her hands. When her hands ran out of space, they offered her their satchels to carry it in. "The wine harvest is soon, and we'll be back out to sell. Take it, we don't need it now."

"Wait! Daughter, please, bless us." A young man rushed to Shay, holding the hand of his fiancé. "Your blessing would mean the world to us."

"Oh, of course." Shay grabbed their hands, reciting the blessing she had been giving out for years. "Upon dark red carnations you will wed in promise that your love for one another is true, and Rosalind will watch over your marriage with happiness, just as she will watch over the children you bare."

"My child, please. He is ill."

"Mine, as well. The midwife says I'm due in a few weeks."

"Daughter Shay, the wine won't be the same without your blessing."

"Can you lead a prayer? Just one last time?"

Shay couldn't keep her head straight as people barraged her with wanted blessings and favors. Somehow, she was holding someone's baby. With each blessing she gave, there seemed to be another waiting to pop out from behind. Finally, someone grabbed her and held their hand out.

"Please, everyone. We have to go. The longer we stay here, the longer you're all at risk. No blessing would matter then," Ingrid said calmly to the crowd. Shay looked up to her and let her shoulders relax.

"Get your hands off of her," someone snarled from the crowd. "Someone as impure as you shouldn't be tainting the Child of Faith. Rosalind's wrath will fall on us all!"

The crowd began to stir, a new energy forming as their attention shifted to the witch. She released Shay from her grip and placed her hands on her hips. The villagers looked at her with disgust, their dark hair and olive skin blending together as one hateful image. Emory slid between Ingrid and Shay, grabbing their shoulders. "That's enough. No one will talk to Ingrid like that. Not after everything she's done."

"Which is what exactly?" A woman scoffed and spat at Ingrid's feet. "She claimed to be a healer. Herbs and nature. Come to find out she's done nothing but use black magic."

"I don't use black magic!"

"All magic is black magic!"

"That's like saying Rosalind's miracle's are black magic."

"Are you claiming to be using Rosalind's magic, then? Ha! I thought it couldn't get any better!" The crowd began shouting and laughing, but Emory shouted at the top of her lungs.

"I said that's enough!" Everyone froze and looked to her. "Ingrid has saved your lives, and my own. She has kept the Daughter of Rosalind out of Evander's sights. She has delivered some of your children. The next person who speaks against her speaks against both me and Shay." Without anything else, she turned on her heel towards the vineyard. "We're leaving."

Ingrid and Shay followed behind Emory in silence, watching her back as she rushed towards the horse. Ingrid looked back over her shoulder only to see that people were still giving her dirty glances, while Shay kept her eyes focused on Emory. How did she command them so easily?

As they came to the horse, Ingrid grabbed the rein. The vineyards were long, the rolling hills making them seem endless. Past the vineyards, though, lay another village that they occasionally traded with. Waektown, where Demetrius' cousin was. He didn't know they were coming, but they hoped that didn't matter.

Because they didn't have anywhere else to go.

"Why can't we ride the horse?"

"Because it wouldn't be fair if one of us rode while the others walked."

"Then we can trade every so often."

"It's only a day's walk to Waektown. Besides, it's best that we don't tire the horse. He won't have much food until we get to the stables there." Ingrid looked back to the tan horse as she led him by rein. "What's his name, again?"

"Barley." Shay pat the side of the horse's mouth before continuing on her path. The ground beneath her feet was firm, dry dirt crunching beneath the soles of her shoes. The sun, now sinking beneath the horizon, cast a golden blanket over everything. Its colors warmed Shay's cheeks, but in the sky the colors were splashed about as if in a beautiful painting. Shadows lurked behind the vineyard's trees, waiting to stretch their limbs and crawl across the landscape.

They had been walking for what seemed like forever, Shay thought, but the sky kept her busy. Clouds shifted, parting and joining until they became one giant clump. Shay noticed one vaguely resembled a bird, and she reached out to touch Emory's shoulder. "Look. That cloud looks like a bird."

Emory glanced up from the book she was holding and turned her face to the sky. "Oh. That's cool. Kind of like a chicken."

"Really? I see more of a finch. Too tiny for a chicken..." Shay sighed as she realized Emory wasn't listening any longer. She had turned her attention back to the book. She had been reading it for most of the walk, but seemed to keep going back to the first few pages. Shay turned away from her friend, giving her peace. Maybe if she read it all now, she would talk more later. Or even let Shay borrow it.

"Ingrid, were you born in the village?"

Ingrid, with her back still turned to the girls, let out a long sigh. Emory looked up from her book with new interest. "No, I was not."

"Then when did you get to the village?"

"Not too long before you kids arrived. Actually, it was just a few days after it was announced that there was a coup. I had just come out of a bad... a bad circumstance." Ingrid turned around and flashed a dazzling smile. "You know how men can be." She turned away once more before falling into silence.

Shay looked at Emory with a raised eyebrow, nodding to Ingrid's back in question. Emory shrugged but then shook her head. No more questions. She was a witch with a bad past. It seemed like common sense not to discuss how she came to where she was. Or maybe that was just to Emory.

Shay started cautiously, though, knowing that she was in territory she shouldn't be in. "Did you enter the village as an old woman?"

Ingrid answered easily, trying not to seem too obvious in her lie. She turned around and looked at them both with confusion. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

Shay crossed her arms, watching Ingrid now with keen eyes. "Many people knew Ingrid growing up. If they're old enough, they even remember going to school with her. Not a single person describes her the way they describe you, though."

Ingrid stopped pulling the horse forward. Emory stopped in her tracks but Shay moved closer to Ingrid, patting Barley as she came to stand just behind her. "But, of course, if that were true, that meant you must have replaced Ingrid at some point. And if you replaced her, that must also mean that your name isn't actually Ingrid. Odd." Shay looked up to Ingrid, who now faced her with pursed lips and a clenched fists. She looked ready to burst. "Which brings me to ask you, when and how did you replace the original Ingrid? And, of course, I'm still curious as to what your actual name is. Knowing that would be nice. I'm sure Emory agrees."

Emory froze. She had always been curious about Ingrid's past. The only thing that stopped her from asking was that she was both older and her friend. Not to mention a witch. She wasn't scared of what Ingrid might do to her, but she was certain that making her emotional about the man who caused her to run away wasn't a good idea. Ingrid had told her a few things about him. She knew Ingrid had loved him, and that he had told her the same. Then, something changed. Ingrid always said it was him. That's all she knew.

But not all she wanted to know.

Ingrid watched as her friend stared at her with conflict clear on her face. Her heart softened, and she turned to Shay. "My name shouldn't matter. You've grown up calling me Ingrid, and I think that should be enough." She refused to relinquish her true name, in fear that they would recognize it and that its thorns would sink into them with hatred. They looked to one another, but Emory nodded. It's only fair, she reasoned. "As for when I replaced the original Ingrid, it was a few days before the coup. I had been walking so far away from my own that eventually I was in too much pain to go on. I had been using my magic to ease my body, but after a while it just stopped working," Ingrid said as her mind wandered off.

Her feet were so sore. She had been looking for a place to rest since nightfall, but the vineyards she had stumbled into seemed to go on for ages. The dark made their twisting, knotted branches stretch out for her. She had picked off a few of the grapes, grateful for their rich flavor and juices. In the distance, a few lights from a village had teased her with a place to lay. A warm bed and some bread. All of hers was gone. Everything was gone.

When she finally came to the village, she found no one. The dark of the night had sent them all off to sleep in their quaint homes, where the eeriness couldn't reach them. A building with a red door caught her attention. The open hands of Rosalind offered her assistance. She knocked with eagerness. Candlelight was still shining through a few of the windows, but no one came to open the door for her. "Hello? Please, I need a place to rest. I'm just looking for a bed."

When the door swung open, an old woman greeted her. Kindness rest in her eyes, as well as worry. "Apologies, dear. I was praying when I heard you. Rosalind must have led you to me. Come inside." Her wrinkled hands accepted her won, warm and soft. In all truth, the apothecary hadn't changed much in the ten years since that night. Plants and bottles still sat upon shelves. The front desk was still slightly cluttered with papers and recipes. "What's your name, child?"

"Gwen," she lied. She always lied when people asked her that now.

The old woman rushed about, introducing herself as Ingrid as she gave her what food she could manage. She could manage a lot, it seemed. The old woman, Ingrid, watched as the young woman before her gratefully ate the food and drank the water. Her recipe, she thought, seems to have worked. Weariness left her body quickly. When she offered a bath, the girl couldn't deny.

As she undressed, though, the old woman noticed an odd necklace hanging around her neck. It glowed ever so faintly, seemingly worn. The girl removed it from her neck, sitting it in the pile of dusty, sweat stained clothes. When she finished her bath, the cold water making her shiver and eager to put on the fresh clothes Ingrid had provided. "Don't forget your necklace." Ingrid held out the necklace to her, letting it rest in the palm of her hand for a second.

A painful, burning sensation filled her. The protection on the necklace reacted, swiftly punishing the holder for what wasn't theirs. The old woman couldn't take it, and collapsed to the floor. the woman didn't know what to do. She prayed, and soon knew what to do.

Soon her magic was at full power, and the old woman's body was turned to dust. And the young woman turned into the old woman, and she stayed that way. Her skin was no longer soft, clear, and touchable. It was sagging and wrinkled, a warning sign to all children to keep away. Her soft and shiny hair turned brittle and gray. Only when she slept did she let the old woman's skin fade away from her own, until they came along.

Ingrid looked up at Emory and Shay in front of her. "I found the apothecary. Ingrid, the old woman there, helped me. My magic scared her, and she had a heart attack. She died, and so I took on her life. That's the story. Is it everything you had hoped for?" Ingrid turned almost angrily to Shay now, a bitter taste filling her mouth as the memories faded.

Shay said nothing, and Ingrid nodded. Emory watched her with curiosity, before looking back in the direction of the village. "We should keep going."

The trip continued in silence. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and so they walked in the dark of night. Clouds drifted over the sky, covering many of the stars. The moonlight was enough that they could manage their way through the vineyards, but it was a straight path to Waektown, anyway.

Night crawled on, making their limbs heavy and feet ache. Emory found that her blinks slowed down each time, staying shut for a few seconds at a time as she walked alongside Shay. After a while, Ingrid stopped leading the horse and looked back to the girls. "I think we deserve some sleep. Tomorrow, though, we'll be walking until we reach Demetrius' cousin."

"Couldn't we pause for lunch or breakfast? Eating dinner while walking earlier made me lose half the meal." Emory groaned as she sat down, the pressure on her feet releasing and allowing her to relax. "Finally."

"Maybe for lunch, but for breakfast it wouldn't hurt to walk a little more. Be ready to go at sunrise. Remember, the longer we take to leave, the longer the village has to stall any soldiers that come by." Shay lay upon the hard ground and let out a sigh. "Oddly comfortable."

"Aren't there others going through the vineyards in the morning to cover up our tracks? That will buy us time." Emory looked to Ingrid but she was already asleep. Looking over to Shay, she found that she was also asleep. It didn't take long for either of them to give up on walking. Ingrid had managed to tie the reins of the horse to a branch of one of the trees along either side of them, but not to actually tighten the knot.

Sighing, Shay moved over and grabbed it. "Well, Barley, goodnight." She tightened the rope before laying down beneath the row of trees.

Rest well.