As the elves prepared to leave Gallimna – not a quarter and one hour later – Yena entered the 'common room' with a large smile.

"Marrik is awake, at last."

There was a chorus of excited remarks from the Ferlians. Joenek joined them as they shuffled into the smaller room. Torben, Rikku, and Arun all questioned Marrik in the same moment. With amused grins, they glanced to one another. Torben took the lead and asked Marrik how he fared.

While the conversation flowed, Joenek found his gaze resting on Edileth. She stood aloof; her stance was wide, and her arms were crossed. Not for the first time, Joenek wondered how he might gain favour in her sight. He took comfort in knowing that her manner was cold with everyone – save, perhaps, Yena. Even so, he was growing frustrated by her lack of interest.

When Joenek heard his name, he averted his gaze from Edileth and focused his attention on Yena. She was informing Marrik of how Joenek had come to be in their presence. He moved toward the front of the group, giving a wide smile. Joenek extended his hand toward Marrik, grasping his forearm in the manner common among male friends. Marrik grinned as Joenek greeted him.

"It's nice to meet you, at last. Though I met you two days ago, you were none too responsive at the time."

Arun and Torben chortled at Joenek's words. Marrik's grin widened into a crooked-toothed smile.

"My apologies." Marrik's voice was deep and possessed a hoarseness from lack of use. Joenek's brows rose at the thick, throaty sort of accent. Though it seemed familiar, he could not place its origin. "Wish I could've been more obliging."

Another round of laughter filled the room before Yena shooed the group from the room so she could tend Marrik's wound.

Once everyone was ready, they took the hall that led to the stables. To their surprise, the small space was filled with a flurry of activity. Rastivelle stood with hands on his hips while several other elves worked to remove a blackened pile of flesh from the entrance of the stables.

"What's this?" Torben stepped toward the innkeeper. "I had not expected to find your establishment so frenzied at this hour."

"There's a curse on this land, or I ain't Rastivelle o' Bromentilly."

"A curse, you say?" Torben pinched the tip of his nose as he often did in contemplation. "What manner of curse?"

"That I ain't certain 'bout. But waked by my charge, was I. Couldn't sleep, says she. Went to look after ol' Oats – that's the horse there. Always been fond o' the animals, she has. In any event, she came upon this spawn of Dredár all a-smolderin'." Rastivelle gestured toward the burnt carcass of what Joenek presumed to be the strange creature that had attacked Edileth and Celik. "He ain't nothing but a crisp now, but praise the gods of fortune, the fire didn't spread to the rest o' my inn."

As Torben stooped over the blackened spot where the creature had lain, Joenek scanned the stables for Celik. What was he doing this morning? Did he notice anything odd?

Joenek noted then that he was not the only one studying the Kenim Naduhl. Edileth stood in a corner, arms crossed, glaring at Celik.

What happened between those two? he wondered.

Glancing to Rastivelle, he watched as Torben straightened and posed a question.

"What happened to the brute?"

"Couldn't tell much. Best I could figure, one o' his kind came and executed 'im. Don't know who else'd be daring enough to set fire to him; 'specially since me boys were gone for the Grey Hand." Rastivelle rubbed his jaw with a grimy fist. "It don't make much sense. But it sure gives one a foul taste in the mouth."

A solemn-faced elf strode into the stables. His gaze fell upon Rastivelle. "You the owner?"

"Aye. Rastivelle at yer service."

"Jich." The wiry elf nodded his head, dark eyes flashing. He continued in his deep, rumbling voice. "Need to replenish resources fer my party. Some said you were the elf to see."

"Oh, aye. We can get yous all sorted. You'll excuse this mess. It ain't a normal occurrence, mind you. Had a run-in with some fell creature. Where you comin' from?"

"We fled the Twin Cities."

"The Twin Cities, eh? Ain't that where you came from Anthr?" Rastivelle turned his attention to Torben, who had been helping Marrik settle into the hannolled litter.

"Indeed, it is. As you can see by Fendrith," Torben rested a hand on Marrik's shoulder, "we ran into some trouble. We now make for Filne-Semmit. We heard tell many refugees are taking the High Road from there to Villelle en Orv Lorrlen. My brother lives there – in Filne-Semmit, I mean – and he's to join us in our journey to the southern capital."

Torben rattled off the information with such precision that Joenek could almost believe the hannorim, despite knowing the truth. He hid a small smile and turned away from Jich, who had given a small nod in response to Torben's explanation. Though Joenek started helping the others, he continued to listen to the conversation.

"You should join our numbers," said Jich. "We're also makin' for Filne-Semmit. The roads be a might dangerous these days, and there's strength in numbers, you know. Shouldn't like to think of you on yer own, 'specially with one of you bein' wounded and all. Once we get our provisions, we'll be on our way."

"What a fine offer...may I call you Jich? Splendid. Yes, what a fine offer from a fine elf such as yourself, Jich. We will gladly accept."

Joenek moved to the lorthen which, to his eyes, appeared as a simple, brown horse. The creature dropped its head, fixing Joenek with an intelligent eye. He shifted on his feet, giving the lorthen a tentative pat on the neck. A peculiar sensation caused Joenek to look to his left. He flinched at the young lad who stood at his side.

The boy's violet eyes peeked past a jagged fringe of blonde hair. The rest of his locks had been pulled back into what had once been an intricate braid; it was no more than a knotted mess, now.

Joenek smiled, bending until he was at eye level with the lad. "What's your name?"

"Haven't got one." The boy took a step back, eyeing Joenek with a squinted gaze. "They just call me Sheem."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sheem. I'm Aemic. But Enári over there calls me all manner of things." Joenek winked and pointed at Edileth.

Sheem's eyes narrowed. He glanced at the disguised lorthen, who had lowered its head further, as if to study the boy.

"You needn't be frightened. Enári is as friendly as a lerecht, but the rest of us are easy to get on with."

"I've gotta go." Sheem gave one final glance in the direction of the lorthen and scampered toward the entrance.

There, Jich was mounted upon a solid-black horse. Sitting a little straighter in the saddle, he began speaking.

"Alright, you lot; we're nearly ready to leave. First, a reminder of the rules. We got to stay together; don't want no one wandering off. If one of ya leaves the main group, I expect you to be with no less'n two others. We need to watch out fer one another; we're all we've got. There won't be no one to help us should we run into trouble.

"Everyone should be 'ware. Watch the horizon and always be prepared to defend yerself. We've made it this far, but it ain't been without incident." Murmurs rustled through Jich's group as he hinted at what had befallen them prior to arriving in Gallimna. "We'll be addin' a small number to our own. Anthr and his family'll be joining us on our journey to Filne-Semmit."

Again, whispers filled the air. A dozen pairs of eyes turned to gaze at the smaller group. Torben stepped forward to address them.

"I understand your discomfort. These are troubling days and one can never be certain whom he should trust. Yet, Jich has generously offered us passage among your company. As we journey together, we may come to know one another and – I think – we shall get on sensationally."

In a showy display of prancing, Jich circled his impatient mount. "Let's be off."

Jich took the lead, while the other two mounted elves found positions near the rear. A draft mule was hitched to a small wagon. This wagon was filled with the heavier supplies which could not be borne upon the backs of the elves.

Joenek plodded down the muddy road. As they came to the last building of Gallimna, he glanced over his shoulder. The village was smaller even than La'el. But it was near a new trade route; before long, it would grow and develop into a large town.

If Si-ol doesn't destroy it, first. Joenek returned his gaze to the front. He thought of the day he had crossed paths with Edileth, the day his part in the journey had been set in motion. Ten days. It's only been ten days. And yet, it feels as if that time was from a different age.

He recalled Arun's account of the attack on La'el.

There's no turning back now. Only pressing forward.

Author's note: This chapter was drastically edited (as of 2021-03-28). Future chapters will not reflect some of the changes that were made. Thank you for your continued support, patience, and understanding.