Alarin listened close to the human leader, large eyes upon the ground. Yes. The land would heal itself. These people would find their way from this moment of difficulty into equilibrium. It was part of who they were, part of a way that Alarin could recognize as having worth. Whether it would be this lifetime or another, even the memory of the day would pass into nothing.

Nodding, the shaper glanced over at the man standing nearby. Turning slightly, the guest wished to agree and disagree. Change was a boon given by fate yet it felt a bitter drink to take down nevertheless. "Mahda Arlix, I -"

Still, whatever words were to be said between them died upon the thinking of them as quick footsteps heralded the arrival of a girl. Alarin watched the child catch her breath and pass along her news. Caravan?

Before thoughts could congeal and make a semblance of sense, the chief had nodded and turned away to walk briskly into the village. Alarin stared after him for a moment, startled at the last by a touch upon one slender hand. The child took care not to touch anywhere that showed signs of pain, yet Alarin was unaccustomed to touch in any way and the shaper jerked back with a gasp of surprise.

The guest stared owlishly at the young girl then, realizing that this was, perhaps, for the best, as the chief had stated, offered the heretofore withheld hand. The girl smiled and Alarin managed a return smile, uncertain and fearful. The way the village acted, would the caravan be one which might cause more trouble for them? It was obvious that caravans were not the norm for this people from the way in which they responded. So more strangers.

Again.

Alarin breathed out in slow contemplation and followed the young girl into a tent. The distant feeling of responsibility still hung heavily over the bowed head as Alarin settled upon a fur pallet and watched the girl leave to go and carry more messages no doubt. Within the tent, there was only silence and Alarin closed silver grey eyes in both physical and mental pain. To be a victim to the limitations of one’s own body. Alarin had never made a good patient. Yet it seemed from the entrance to the village, one thing after another had happened to make it impossible for Alarin to become hale and whole. It was almost as if the universe conspired to keep the shaper here, an increasingly bad luck symbol for the peaceful people living on this land.

~~~

The caravan shuddered and rumbled and moved a dim following dust into the air, a ghost like pennant strung out and above the wagons. The lady and her attendant watched the forest approaching and the young woman sighed in relief. Finally, they would be elsewhere, out of the long, unending sky. That was perhaps almost the best part of the day. The better part would have been the dim sensation that their searching was almost over.

She had watched her attendant with a focus she’d not shown before. Her eyes had followed him in the morning as he’d set up the small wheeled vehicle to move. She’d not looked away as he’d set out her things for the day and made her breakfast. He, on the other hand, didn’t glance her way once. He went about his tasks with a solid, ethereal grace, his own focus completely upon the tasks at hand.

Now, they sat alongside one another, the girl unable to keep from watching their destination.

"There is smoke. What do you suppose?" she paused in her thoughts then watched as a guard passed by on horseback. "A word!" she called and frowned in consternation as he rose one finger to her with no slowing in the gait of his mount. He was more than likely getting much the same heralds from every wagon he passed by. She would not have been alone in wondering what was happening.

She settled back, her face set in disappointment then glanced over at the boy whose eyes were fixated upon the smoke rising into the sky.

"We’re going there, aren’t we? It’s there."

The boy didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Every cell of his body visibly strained toward the smoke. The lady of means watched him in silence as she had all morning, then she looked with much the same wonder, toward the broad band of smoke.

"So close," she murmured before lapsing into silence.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis