OoOoO

The mining city of Geristan was just as dull and uninviting looking as Jatheryn had imagined. Even the scent of it, carried to them atop Nightwish's back, was far from enthusing. Jatheryn picked up vague traces of metal, stagnant water, and dust on the wind even at a league away. Geristan smelled like industry, with no traces of anything like flowers or perfume to mute the stark austerity of it.

Far more impressive were the famed Teeth, looming up behind Geristan like a hedge of stone spikes. They were so tall they even managed to blot out the morning sunrise behind them in the east. Jatheryn had never seen anything like them before. There was a sense of vastness and timelessness to The Teeth that utterly outclassed even the oldest relics in the museums of Vaelona. How could there possibly be an entire other half to Goran beyond those mountains, when they appeared a divide nigh impenetrable?

Awenis, seated in front of Jatheryn on the blue roan's back, seemed less awed by The Teeth and more unimpressed by Geristan. She frowned at the gray stain across the landscape where it lay.

"It's not very...attractive a place, is it?" Awenis said.

Tearing his gaze away from the mountains to the city, Jatheryn couldn't help but agree.

"I had thought, given how well the mining business does here, that Geristan would at least look a little more affluent."

"It looks like a prison." Awenis said what they both were thinking.

It wasn't exactly an unfair assessment; even at this far out they could both see the high stone wall that completely enclosed the city. The only visible color was a pair of red pennants flying on either side of the gate. As far as Jatheryn was concerned, Geristan's sole claim to beauty came from its location. Then again, he supposed he was far from qualified to judge anything when it came to being colorless.

"Well, shall we?" Jatheryn made to urge Nightwish down from the hilltop where they stood to the road. Awenis stopped him though, with a hand on his wrist.

"What if we're recognized, like back at the inn?"

"I'm afraid there's not too much we can do to prevent that, Awenis, short of keeping our hoods up."

When Awenis offered no further protest, Jatheryn set the horse into a light trot done the grassy hilltop. It was a summer morning, but the sky was as overcast as the day before. From the looks of things, there would likely be rain that day. As much as Jatheryn agreed with Awenis' reluctance to enter such a drab looking place, they at least needed to find shelter. Plus, Jatheryn was concerned about Awenis being on the road over-long in her present condition.

Either out of boredom or sheer disinterest, the pair of guards standing above Geristan's gate gave Jatheryn and Awenis only the briefest of glances before waving them through. Jatheryn supposed the pair of them hardly looked like they could cause much in the way of trouble, with their skinny horse and lack of arms.

The inside of Geristan was no more interesting than the outside. Everything was built from the same dull grey stone, probably quarried from the nearby steps of The Teeth. When compared to Vaelona, the little foothills city was even duller. That was not to say that it seemed an unhappy place; the citizens appeared reasonably well dressed and occupied. Men passed by in the street talking cheerfully together, their broad shoulders and heavy hands hinting at a life of menial labor. Somewhere nearby a blacksmith's hammer clanged against his anvil, and the smell of fresh baked bread poured from an open window as they passed.

"Well, what do you think, Awenis?" Jatheryn asked.

Awenis had been watching the people and street fronts quietly, her golden eyes slightly wide. This was a far cry from the beauty of Vaelona, but it was also the only other city besides Amenthere that they had ever seen.

"Awenis?"

"Ah, sorry!" Awenis shook herself, having apparently been lost in her own thoughts. "What was that you were saying?"

Jatheryn nudged Nightwish slightly to one side, putting more space between themselves and a pair of chatting women with baskets over their arms.

"I was asking what you thought of this place so far. Does this seem like somewhere you think we could stay?"

"Well...it's not...no matter, it seems peaceful enough here, and so far nobody has paid us any mind. Maybe we don't stand out as much here as we did closer to Vaelona, do you think?"

"Maybe."

It may have been early morning, but Jatheryn and Awenis were both exhausted all the same after their travels. It didn't take long to seek out what appeared to be the only inn in all of Geristan. Situated right next to a palisaded area within the town, there were an unusual number of young men hanging around the entrance and the tables set up on the cobblestones outside. They were all dressed similarly in sleeveless red tunics and grey trousers. Jatheryn marveled at the diversity of the group. Some were clearly southerners, with their skin so dark as to be almost black, and hair and eyes to match. Others could have been from more north; their angular eyes reminded Jatheryn of Zhaiden. Regardless, all seemed to be greatly enjoying a leisurely morning at the inn.

"Do you want me to go in and get us a room?" Awenis asked. By the sudden tension in his sister's shoulders, Jatheryn knew they were both remembering the encounter with the ruffians at the Snapdragon inn.

"Alright." Shifting to one side on Nightwish's back, Jatheryn helped Awenis slide down to the cobblestones below. "I'll keep an eye out though." He was less than thrilled by the idea of his little sister walking through that gauntlet of young men in front of the inn door.

Tugging at the hood on her riding cloak, Awenis paused to pat the blue roan's neck. "Take care of Jatheryn for me, hmm?"

Nightwish's response was a whinny and a nudge for Awenis' arm. Jatheryn felt an amused smile try to tug at the corner of his mouth. And here he was thinking that he as the eldest was taking care of the three of them.

Awenis's passage to the inn door was interrupted by nothing more obtrusive than a few waves and winks from the young men at the tables. None of them were able to see her very well beneath the hood, but only when Awenis was safely inside did Jatheryn let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

I'm going to grow paranoid at this rate, he thought to himself with a small sigh. Still, it was hard not to be, out in the wide world for the very first time. Especially given the circumstances, that was. After their run-in at the Snapdragon, Jatheryn had half-expected to find a cadre of Vaelonese knights waiting at the gates of Geristan to escort them back to the Saurivic family fold. As ugly as their parting encounter had been, Jatheryn didn't really expect Rosarin and Jahaelis to give up on the line of succession that easily.

Voices nearby distracted Jatheryn from his private musings. Cocking his head slightly within his cloak, he couldn't help but overhear a pair of women talking nearby.

"Ah, you'd think those soldiers could find something better to do than hang around eating and drinking all morning."

"Well what else are they supposed to be doing? It's not like there's any battles for them to fight, and thank the stars for that!"

"Thank the stars. Still, why can't they make themselves useful by getting proper jobs or something, instead of taking up space here at the barracks? I mean, there hasn't been a war since Goran was born, why does the king even bother keeping a standing army?"

"Pffft! Those boys aren't an army. Goran has no army. If doing marching drills and hitting each other with wooden swords keeps them busy and out of trouble though, then I say a few years in cadet training is good for a growing boy. Gives a man character, as my father always used to tell my brother and I."

"Well, as long as they keep their partying in the barracks or the inn, it doesn't matter to me."

"Jatheryn?"

Awenis's voice on the ground brought Jatheryn out of his eavesdropping. He looked down to see Awenis looking up with a key in her hand and a frown on her pretty face.

"Hmm, yes Awenis? You got us a room then? And stabling for Nightwish?"

Awenis nodded, still frowning.

"Then what's wrong?"

"It cost us two Sols, food and drink not included. At this rate, we'll only have enough money to stay another two or three nights."

"Two Sols?" Jatheryn repeated, nearly choking. They were going through their money far faster than either of them had anticipated. Buying the horse had really been the blow to put a dent in their purses. Swallowing, he tried to force a smile to reassure his fretting sister. "Well, for tonight we have a place to stay. You go get us some food and settle upstairs, I'll stable Nightwish and meet you there."

When handing over the horse to the stable hand, Jatheryn was taken aback when the lanky little girl addressed him as "Grandfather". Rather than question it, he quickly left as soon as Nightwish's reins passed into the girl's hands. The soldiers outside the inn didn't give Jatheryn so much as a glance as he passed, and he took care to avoid making eye contact with any of them.

They spent the rest of the day napping in their room at the inn. Unlike at the Snapdragon, this time they each had a bed, so Jatheryn supposed that was where the difference in price came from. The stable hand's greeting kept Jatheryn confused though. Where did "Grandfather" come from all of the sudden?

Getting up slowly so as not to make the wooden bed creak, Jatheryn tiptoed over to the washbasin and mirror at the corner of the room. He had been so tired earlier that he hadn't even washed up before eating and falling into bed. The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains over the window, casting the room in a ruddy orange glow. Voices from downstairs reached their room through the floorboards. Clearly the soldiers were still enjoying their day at the inn.

For the first time since leaving Vaelona, Jatheryn took a good long look at himself. The mirror was dirty, but he could see now why the girl had addressed him as she did.

It had been almost four days since he had last shaved, and the short beginning of a white beard had already begun to crawl across his pale chin and cheeks. Turning his head this way and that, Jatheryn imagined what others would see if a hood covered the top half of his face. Sure enough, Jatheryn was surprised to realize that he could in fact pass for an old man.

"You've always been an old soul, Jatheryn. In a kinder world, you might have been called beautiful for that."

His grandfather's words from the night of the Crowning Day ball came back to Jatheryn, and he shuddered. Suddenly he felt the weight of everything he had pushed away since leaving trying to come back.

"Did you really love us, Grandfather, or was it mostly pity?" Jatheryn murmured to his reflection in the wash basin. Those white eyes in the water just blinked impassively back up at him, looking old and tired even in a young face.

With a sudden swipe, Jatheryn struck the wooden bowl aside, sending water spraying across the wall and floor.

Jatheryn couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. Tears weren't something he gave in to often. What good would weeping ever do him, he would tell himself. He didn't know why seeing himself looking like an old man was the breaking point, or maybe it was just seeing his reflection at all. He and Awenis may have left everything they had ever known behind, but the face he wore was still the same. No matter where he ran, he couldn't run from the ghost in the mirror. Trying not to wake his sleeping sister, Jatheryn Saurivic finally fell to his knees and let himself weep his past out until it ran dry.

By the time Awenis awoke at dinnertime, Jatheryn had already gone out into the town and returned. She was just rubbing her eyes when Jatheryn ducked back into their room and dumped out a small armload on his bed.

"Jath? What's that?" Awenis asked. "You went out?"

"I did." Jatheryn's eyes were still reddened, but he hid it with a smile. "It was more than we could probably afford, but I got us some dinner as well as a few other things."

"That smells like..." Picking up the small clay pot of thick paste, Awenis sniffed at it before wrinkling her nose. "Henna?"

"There's only enough for one of us, so I bought it for you," Jatheryn explained. "I can grow my beard out now, so it's better if I run with the 'elder' aesthetic and the white hair. This way we can blend in better around town. We'll have to if we're going to find work."

Awenis fingered a lock of her hair, but nodded. She had always been attached to her long soft tresses.

"I can help you dye it," Jatheryn added gently.

"That's alright. I've seen you do it enough times that I can manage." Awenis deliberately pointed at another wrapped package on the bed. "And that?"

"New clothes for us, more to the style of what they wear here in Geristan."

"And that?"

"My..." Jatheryn suddenly blushed. "...It's how I'm going to make money for us. I saw it being sold in the window of a pawn shop for a good price and it looked in good condition so I..."

Jatheryn realized that he was babbling. Why was he so nervous for Awenis to see what he had spent the last of their meager coins on? For some reason, he felt like he had to make excuses now, to justify what might have been a selfish purchase.

Leaning across the bed, Awenis took hold of the cloth around the object and pulled. A viol came into view, shining dully in the afternoon sunlight through the curtains.

It was old, and clearly well used. The strings were clearly replacements, and the wood was notched in several places. Someone had even carved their initials into the back of the handle at some point; a faded 'J.G.' lingering as a mark of the previous owner. The bow was of a different wood than the viol, also likely a replacement for the original. Once Jatheryn had seen the old instrument sitting in the pawn shop though, he had known he couldn't walk away without it.

"A viol?"

Awenis turned to look at Jatheryn, her expression strangely unreadable. For a moment Jatheryn worried she would be angry. Then Awenis smiled, her amber eyes narrowing happily up at him.

"Jenni always used to go on and on about how beautiful your music was. She confessed to me once that listening to you play was like watching a sunrise or drinking warm cider on a cool night. Once I even caught her sitting against the wall between my room and yours, listening to you play from the next room."

"She would listen to me?" Jatheryn remembered then the maidservant's shy compliment of his music during their final days in the Saurivic household.

Awenis nodded. "Yes. So I think you should definitely become a minstrel, Jath, it's a wonderful idea! And I think it makes you happy too, which is even better."

Seeing Awenis smiling and happy for him and his love of music breathed warmth into Jatheryn's sad heart. He climbed across the bed and wrapped her up in a tight hug.

"Thank you, Awenis," he whispered into her shoulder.

"You have to promise to play your music for me too though, right?" Awenis returned the embrace before pulling back. "Oh, and I'll need to find work of some sort as well."

"Like what?"

"I don't know; something I'm good at."

A shop that Jatheryn had passed while out shopping came back to him, and he snapped his fingers. "I have an idea. I hope you brought your thimble."

Awenis groaned aloud. "I forgot it back in my room in Vaelona. Why, what's your idea?"

OoOoO

The next five months passed by in a long parade of grey, unremarkable and unbeautiful days, but to Jatheryn and Awenis it was the beginnings of a new life. They wore simple clothing made from rough-spun wool, ate the cheapest breads and meats they could buy, and slept in a set of rented rooms little bigger than a closet behind the tailor shop where Awenis was apprenticed.

Every morning Awenis would rise first and hurry to touch up the roots of her hair as Jatheryn used to do in Vaelona. Now sporting a plain shade of mouse brown rather than silky blonde, Awenis would plait her hair back, dress, and head around to open the shop for the day. The tailor, a stocky fellow by the name of Thanic, was a fastidious master who criticized everything about Awenis's work, from the size of her stitches to the way she arranged the bolts of cloth along the wall. Awenis always kept trying to improve though, and throughout the autumn she had managed to learn Thanic's patterns and preferences. Even now that Awenis's pregnancy was clear for anyone to see, she never once failed to open the tailor's shop at dawn. Although Thanic grumbled and glowered, he sometimes allowed his "silly little slip of an apprentice" to take home scraps of fabric to make herself and 'her uncle' new clothes with.

As for Jatheryn, apart from posing as Awenis's uncle, he earned his daily bread by performing as a minstrel on street corners throughout Geristan. Learning quickly within the first few weeks that the best hours for street performers were after dusk, Jatheryn had taken to sleeping from before dawn to early afternoon. He would awaken in time for a high-sun meal, and then head out to find a good place to play. His white eyes were problematic at first, until he learned to pass himself off as both old and blind. Once people saw his little sign proclaiming himself a blind musician, no one thought twice about his eyes. It was tricky though, trying to keep his gaze unfocused on the distance at all times. More than once he had to catch himself about to look directly at nearby sounds and people. After Awenis taught him how to draw wrinkles on his skin with charcoal, he could even more easily pass for elderly with his white hair and beard. By early winter all of Geristan knew him as "Old Jath, the blind minstrel".

It wasn't his supposed age or his blindness which earned Jatheryn most of his tips though. Years of playing the viol alone in his room hadn't gone to waste. Jatheryn's fingers remembered all of his old songs with ease, and he was also learning some of the local favorites. Oddly enough, it was the soldiers who were some of his best audiences. Overpaid and bored, the young men were only too happy to show their appreciation to the blind old minstrel who played such beautiful music. Once they even invited Jatheryn to drink with them at the inn. Jatheryn had declined, insisting he needed to get home to his "niece", but inside his delight was immeasurable.

The best part of performing in the streets of Geristan for Jatheryn was the children. Drawn to the sound of music, they would drop their parents' hands or leave their games to come and watch. Some of the bolder ones would edge closer and closer still, until they were sitting crossed legged practically at Jatheryn's feet. Their awe-filled, bright little faces looking up at Jatheryn as he played his viol made everything that had happened in his one-and-twenty years of life seem unimportant. Children loved Old Jath, and he loved them back. When he was feeling particularly indulgent, Jatheryn would launch into cheerful children's songs, and his young audience would sing and clap along. When the parents came to collect their children they often left a coin or two in Jatheryn's hat, and come snowfall he and Awenis had enough to buy warm cloaks, gloves, and scarves. Jatheryn even managed to save enough to buy Awenis her own set of bone knitting needles.

Life was simple, and life was good. Then one day Jatheryn saw a face on the street that he once would have given anything to see looking back at him. That was the beginning of the end.

It was a crisp winter's evening, and the lanterns were just beginning to be lit. There had been a recent snowfall, and the snowdrifts looked like white waves, cut through in some places to make way for the streets. Jatheryn was in his favorite spot beside the inn, playing for the customers who even now braved the cold to enjoy an evening with friends. The innkeeper had even allowed Jatheryn his own fire barrel to keep his fingers warm in between songs.

When the song ended, Jatheryn set his viol down atop the bench to keep it out of the snow. It was a battered, secondhand thing, but for some reason it had come to fit just as well in Jatheryn's hands as the one Jalborn had given him back in Vaelona. Still, his fingers were chilly, and it was time for a break. As the handful of people at the tables threw appreciative words and a coin or two his way, Jatheryn nodded and returned their smiles, careful to keep his colorless gaze unfocussed. It was good to be liked.

"Hey, Jath, come sit down for a minute and have a warm mead with us," Ulrich, the captain of Goran's Second Company called out. Sometimes even the captains would join their soldiers at the inn. "You must be getting tired, old man."

"Only tired of your disrespect to your elders, Ulrich," Jatheryn said wryly, getting a laugh from the others around the tables. As much to Jatheryn's surprise as anyone else's, he had discovered that people actually did find him witty from time to time.

"I am respectful! So respectful in fact, that I'm offering to pay for your drink. Now get over here and sit, before you freeze under your lonely street lantern." Ulrich's yellow mustache was so long he could braid it, and snowflakes clung to the ends of the little plaits. The captain's thick fur cloak looked big enough to have come straight off a mountain bear.

Allowing himself to bump a shin on the table before taking a seat, Jatheryn let the soldiers' bantering wash over him like a friendly tide. His viol was cool and firm on his lap, but the mug of mead in his hands was warm, even through his gloves. Jatheryn let out a long breath, watching as the fog from his mouth mingled with the steam from his drink.

"Now there's a lovely lady if ever I saw one! Oooh milady, you strike me right through the heart with your eyes. Won't you please look at me one more time, for luck?"

The lieutenant next to Jatheryn started in on someone who had just come out from inside the inn. No doubt another female traveler unlucky enough to be deemed attractive by this gaggle of harmless, if uncouth soldiers. Jatheryn sighed and subtly snuck a glimpse of the latest love of everyone's life. When he saw who the soldiers were teasing though, his heart leapt up into the back of his throat.

Hadriel Shakian stood on the front stoop of Geristan's inn, as beautiful, if not even more so than Jatheryn remembered her. She wore a dark mauve cloak trimmed with white fur which billowed slightly about her in the winter breeze. Lantern light reflected off her golden hair and shone in her all-seeing grey eyes. The expression on Hadriel's face was one of slight surprise and a little embarrassment, as if she didn't know quite how to respond to such a ridiculous overture. Then she looked at him. She didn't just look; Hadriel saw him, Jatheryn Saurivic.

Jatheryn was so stunned, he sat as one transfixed. He knew that Hadriel recognized him. The surprise and confusion written all over her face was clear. Jatheryn didn't know whether he wanted to get up and run away, or get up and throw himself at Hadriel's feet in the snow.

Then another person came out of the inn behind Hadriel, and she was no longer alone. It was Lord Penlor, the head of the Shakian family. Jatheryn looked away, suddenly freed from the spell of Hadriel's gaze.

Lord Penlor narrowed his eyes at the table full of soldiers sitting outside drinking and chatting in the snow. It was an imperious stare, intensified by the grey of the Shakian eyes.

"I'll thank you, good servants of the realm, not to trouble my daughter in the future. I suggest you find someone else to irritate with your unwanted attentions. Come, Hadriel, the carriage is waiting. My business here in Geristan is concluded."

Jatheryn kept his eyes determinedly fastened on nothing, staring as far away into the distance as he could, as if by pretending as hard as he could to be blind, he would actually be struck sightless. He could still feel Hadriel's eyes boring in to him though, even as she walked away at her father's side.

She knows. She knows. She knows.

Jatheryn couldn't stay at the inn a moment longer, and fled the second the Shakians were out of sight. If his viol hadn't already been on his lap he might just have forgotten it in his haste. By the time he made it back to his and Awenis's tiny rooms behind the tailor shop, he was sweating even despite the winter chill outside.

"Jatheryn, what is it?!"

Awenis dropped the vest pattern she had been studying by candlelight and hurried to meet him at the door. Her swelling belly looked almost absurd on a woman as delicately built as she was.

It took a mug of tea and a good ten minutes for Jatheryn to calm down enough for Awenis to wring the story out of him. By the time he was finished retelling of his encounter with Hadriel Shakian outside the inn, Awenis was grim. With alarming suddenness, the cold, composed woman Jatheryn had last seen in Vaelona made her reappearance.

"She'll tell others in Vaelona. You know she will, Jath."

"She didn't say anything to her father at the time though." Jatheryn sat at their rickety table before the stove, the heat from the coal inside it already melting the snow on his cloak and leaving puddles on the wooden floor. He was still reeling from so abrupt a reminder of their past lives.

"Because she was likely just as shocked as you were. I don't know what people have been told back in Vaelona, but we're probably presumed missing or dead or something of the like. Why on earth would she hold her tongue? She might think she's doing the Saurivic family a great service by having found their lost heirs."

"What are you afraid of, Awenis?"

"You know what I'm afraid of!" Awenis snapped, the fierceness in her tone completely taking Jatheryn off guard. She protectively clutched at her rounded belly. "I do not want to be found. I will not be found. Let the headship of the Saurivics go to Taevrin, I will not be dragged back into that world of secret sneers and bloodlines."

Jatheryn bowed his head. All of the wounds that he thought he had wept shut their first day in Geristan were threatening to break wide open again. "We have a life here now...livelihoods, a home, even friends. Would you just sacrifice all of that and go running out into the wilds again? In your condition?"

"Do we truly have a life here, Jath?" Coming to Jatheryn's side, Awenis snatched up his cold hands in hers. "You have to pretend to be old and blind, I live in fear that we'll be found and taken back to Vaelona every day. And now that fear has come true, at least partially." Awenis's fingers tightened almost painfully on Jatheryn's. "Can't we go somewhere where we can really be free? Somewhere you can be you, I can be me, and the name 'Saurivic' has little to no meaning at all?"

"Where is that, Awenis? Stop speaking in riddles!"

"The east, Jath, the east! I said so from the beginning, and I say so again; eastern Goran is a whole new world unto itself. Hardly anyone ever crosses The Teeth. If we could just get there, we'd be so far beyond reach that we need never turn our thoughts back to Vaelona again."

Jatheryn prised Awenis's hands off of his and stood, growing more agitated by the minute. There was precious little room to pace in their tiny apartment, but he did so anyways.

"Did you not just hear yourself? Hardly anyone ever crosses The Teeth for a reason! The mountains are dangerous in the best of seasons, let alone the winter. The only other way would be to go all the way south to Moaan to book passage on a ship, which could take months. You can't go on a journey like that, not so far gone with child!"

Awenis's face hardened into ice. "I can and will do anything it takes to ensure my child lives free from the reach of Vaelona. Jatheryn, I will go to the east. You can come with me or you can stay here. The choice is yours, my choice is already made."

Silence reigned. Never before had Jatheryn felt like cursing at his beloved little sister, but now he wanted to rage at her for a fool.

"Short of tying you to your bed, will anything I say or do make you consider staying, or at least waiting until the spring to leave?"

"No."

"I suppose I have no choice." Jatheryn bowed his head. "You are all I have in this world, Awenis. If you leave Geristan to go east, then I will follow." 

OoOoO