The Lady Amalthea began to step towards the castle, having forgotten her usual evening trek to the village; her attention had been diverted by Amon and Ser Carver and now her thoughts drifted back to where she resided each evening. Each step she took was silent and while the gravel and dirt of the path was loose and would roll under the common fall of foot they did not beneath her steps. She did not answer the question posed to her on who she was for at that moment it had slipped from her memory once again. It did all too often. 

	The smell of salt hung heavy in the approaching evening air as she took meandering graceful strides towards the walls that surrounded the castle. The two guards who stood post at the gate watched them approach, their spears crossing to block the entrance once the Lady Amalthea had passed them; keeping the two new comers from stepping foot within the walls. 

	“What business do you have here?” one asked in a gruff voice. The Lady Amalthea stopped and her head turned, shimmering hair waving slightly in the wind as her eyes flashed towards the men who had accompanied her to the castle. 

	“Let them pass,” she said in an airy voice before she continued silently on her way towards the doors of the old castle. The guards looked at each other for a moment before their spears were pulled back to allow Amon and Ser Carver to pass at their leisure. 

	From the castle emerged a middle aged woman, her clothing tattered and poor. Matted straw colored hair and large brown eyes darted towards the new comers as she raced over towards the Lady Amalthea and took the womans hand. “M’Lady, you return to early, is everything alright?” she asked concerned. 

	“Yes, I believe so,” she answered as slender fingers curled over the calloused palm of the servant woman. The woman looked at the men who were following her lady oddly for a moment before she spoke.

	“I am Molly, thank you for bringing our Lady Amalthea back safe this evening,” she said kindly towards them. “Who might you be?”