I didn't even bother to vote. I just sat next to Castor and Juniper.

"What do you think's going to happen to them?"

"Don't think about it."

"But..."

"Castor," I stared at him. He shifted and nodded.

"Alright." He picked at a blade of grass.

The centaurs seemed extra on edge as they stood around us. They seemed ready to pounce if anyone made a suspicious move. The only time I got up was to get us all lunch, and even then I hurried as quickly as I could.

Ryan seemed to be taking pains to avoid me, but it didn't matter. I didn't want to see her either.

The old woman smiled at me as I walked by and winked. I just shook my head, focusing on the food ahead of me. I balanced three plates on my arm and loaded food onto as many of them as I could.

They had raw fish and meat. When a wolf walked up to the tray, I realized it wasn't meant to be for Juniper. I took a load of fish anyway.

I carried the food like the waitresses at my little inn back home had. They'd always found a way to carry several plates and irritably sign to me at the same time.

I passed the old witch again and she smiled at me. I tried to hide any sign I'd even seen her, but the way she chuckled to herself and leaned back, she'd seen through my feeble attempt.

I took a deep breath and hurried back to Castor and Juniper. They both took the food, too involved in a spoken conversation with each other to do much more than acknowledge I existed. I ate my food, feeling acutely alone.

In hindsight, I could've made an effort to have more friends. Portions of the camp signed, a blessing I hadn't appreciated enough. But I wasn't willing to talk to anyone fate hadn't thrown me in the way of. I'd had to rely on Juniper. Castor had befriended me before I even thought to do the same with him.

I pulled my knees into my chest. I wanted to talk with someone, but the only two people I was willing to talk to weren't interested in me.

Eventually, I got up. They both looked at me.

"I need to stretch my legs."

Juniper nodded and didn't protest. Castor looked like he wanted to, but I was already gone. I didn't need to sit with him.

I tried to mindlessly stroll, but every path I took me past the witch. Each time I passed her, she beckoned me over and I ignored her. We were caught up in a dance until I finally gave up and plopped down next to her. The crate was hard and uncomfortable, but she seemed perfectly at home.

"You did it."

"I didn't break up with my—with Ryan because someone I barely know told me to."

She nodded. "I never said that, child."

"You thought it though, didn't you?"

"Maybe. It doesn't matter now. The deed is done."

"Is it? We could always get back together."

"And will you?" She asked, her wrinkled face turning to mine.

"Not unless something changes."

"Then it is done. Ryan won't change, and I pray you don't."

"Why shouldn't I change? You barely know me."

"Child, there are things you don't understand. I know more than you think."

I snorted. "Magic," my hands flattened mockingly. "Magic told you who I am? Would you care to share it, oh wise one?"

"Not who you are exactly. But what you do. You're compassionate, whatever mask you try to put on."

"Why would I try to hide being compassionate? That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Don't ask me. That answers within yourself."

I pushed myself to my feet. "I didn't come here for enlightenment in the form of riddles."

"Then what did you come for?"

I paused. "A walk."

"You can be at peace with yourself, Arriana."

"Let's just get this clear. You don't know me. Don't act like you do. I am at peace."

"You can lie to me if you want, but we'll see how you do lying to yourself."

I turned on my heel and walked away, not even caring that she'd gotten the last word. I was at peace with myself. I was sure of it.

I walked away, finding an isolated corner to myself. I took deep breaths.

My father made sure everyone took care of themselves with a stern strictness. Some of the men would have a panic attack when they heard the roar of cannons, so the first time a physician was aboard the Red Revenge, he forced him to lead a meditation for the whole crew, and we all rotated through it in shifts.

I remembered the smell of the candles the man had insisted were necessary. The filled the air so it was almost stifling.

We all sat in the dark, each of us grumbling about how stupid the whole ordeal was. I had to be about eight at the time, so I crossed my legs and sat with my hands on my knees, grumbling the whole while.

The men had all fought over who'd be excluded from the activity to interpret the man's instructions. I remember the way the man's signs started off almost as mocking as our chatter, but slowly shifted until they had a soothing fluidity.

"In and out. Breath how it's comfortable, but exhale longer than you exhale. That's good. In and out. In and out."

I forced my exhales to be longer than my inhales. I paced, waiting for the calmness to kick in like it always did.

I eventually stopped, leaning against the wall. Be at peace with myself. What kind of religious bull crap was that?

I was at peace with myself.

I thought of my father. A pang ran through me. Why had I ever left?

Why did I think I couldn't endure another day with my parents?

At least with them, everything was so simple. My father had been so hurt when I left.

My mother hadn't seemed to care the same way he had. Would he even take me back now?

He hated desertion. I put my head in my hands.

"I'm at peace with myself," I signed to myself even though no one could see it.

I wasn't so sure, but as far as the witch went, I'd never admitted she was right. As far as anyone needed to know, I felt completely fine.

And my mother. Had she really been so unbearable? Or was I just the ungrateful child who projected all my woes onto her. My mother was wrong, definitely, but was that a reason to cut her off completely? If Juniper's story was true, she wasn't really my mother. My mother was in there somewhere, not in those cold eyes. I slid down the wall.

I took a rigid breath before I could remind myself to keep breathing.

I buried my head in my arms. I took another breath that stung as it ripped its way through my lungs. Then the breath turned into a stifled sob. After that, I couldn't stop the tears.

They kept coming, even though my assurances to myself that it was alright. I was alright.

Even when they'd finally run their course, I didn't move. I stayed in a ball, letting the tears dry into a crust.