Rhoynar held his sword tightly, regardless of Illinfer's previous comment. The blade was much longer than most, thinner too. It seemed to form a point much different to that of a normal blade. Swords like that existed beyond the Second East, used on the battlefields and on horseback. They were more inclined for throwing that cleaving like western blades. Rhoynar twisted his grip a little, more than ready to throw the thing if he needed to. It had always took Westerners off guard.. Throwing a blade instead of swinging it. Although, missing was a costly mistake and not one to make in combat with more than one opponent, not unless stealing another weapon was easy. The knight held his horse steady with one arm, glancing between the bush and his companion. The more time he spent with her, the more mysteries she seemed to carry. Here he was thinking she was easy to read and simple.

Seeing two hands appear from the lingering shadows quickly made Rhoynar uncomfortable. The man looked armed and instantly set alarm bells off. It seemed far too much like an ambush... The woods and this time of day, it was prime real estate. The knight shifted his horse, altering his position to aid whatever the world wanted to throw at them. Today wasn't the day he was going to die. His attention turned back to the man when his palm sparked up like some sort of- it was clearly obvious the man knew magic. The situation made Rhoynar feel even more uneasy, like a sailor on a starless night. He turned his eyes to the man and pulled his mount alongside Illinfer's. Unless a bunch of others jumped from the shadows, two horseback riders should have been enough to sway any desires to attack the man had.

Rhoynar kept his attention on the shadows, slowly becoming aware of their solitude. Moving his eyes back down, he pulled on the reins of his horse, giving way for the beast to slam its hooves on the ground before the man. It was clear the man's discomfort in their situation. He wasn't aware of the two's prior meeting until she spoke his name. Immediately Rhoynar turned back to Illinfer with an expression of confusion and misunderstanding. He pulled his horse's reins again and turned the beast to the side.
"State your business." Rhoynar spat, joining in on the confusion and paranoia. "State your business." His voice rung out like a hammer hitting hot steel. The twang of his accent wasn't so clear anymore but it lingered in the air like their own distrust. The stranger seemed to be taking slow steps forward, despite Illinfer's blade. Rhoynar quickly lifting his own, holding it's tip beneath his chin. "Come any closer and I will slice the head of your neck." He spat, pressing the metal into the skin of the man before them both.

In worry Ilinfer looked to her companion. Was he always this nervous? His voice suggested panic and that was something they didn‘t nee - she didn‘t need - when in danger. If he had ever been in a fight before? He should now that staying calm and keeping a cool head would be more helpful than what he just presented. She had thought him experienced and skilled. Now however her view changed, the shift not noticeable to those around her. She would have to protect the noble that could cause their demise if he acted so harshly in similar situations far more dangerous than this one.

Helpless the man raised his hands. “I can see you have a rather jumpy companion.” He said in a low voice. Ilinfer joined in on Rhoynars threat, also holding her blade under the man’s chin. “Answer the question!” Her voice was deep, threatening even. She had known Darren for so long. He had been an honorable man! A man who had been a dear friend to her husband. The woman’s eyes were fierce as the man raised his chin to back away from the blades, cutting himself in the process, a small trickle of blood oozing down his throat. He sighed deeply before answering. “I am on my way to pay a friend my respects . . .” He looked at Ilinfer intently.

A deep flush rose to her fair cheeks, visible in the fires soft light. Darrens burning hand still illuminated the clearing, throwing distorted shadows on the area surrounding them. She felt dizzy. There was so much going on in this moment. Her head was spinning. Rhyonar needed protection. She had to be alert at all times especially now. Darren was talking about paying a friend respect and she thought she knew exactly who he was talking about. But she didn‘t want to hear it! No, this was something he‘d be wise enough not to mention . . . or was it?

„I‘m sorry for what happened to Jarlath . . .“ She silenced him by lifting her sword so it bit into his skin, making more blood ooze. „You‘d best leave now!“ The northern woman‘s voice was as cold as ice, her gaze the same. With the flush in her cheeks she looked angry and threatening although she just felt sad and wanted this torturous situation to end. Darren lifted his hands and backed away very slowly, heading in the direction of the road.

Rhoynar held his sword tightly, his mind racing with suspicion and the image of his home burning to the ground. Flames ripping through the bay, consuming every building and all life along the streets. Screams and shouts, the cries of families and souls trapped before the fire. His mind could see his mother, clutching a babe to her chest, begging his little brother to come back as he lay choking on his own blood. He could hear his little sister screaming, begging for them to stop- Rhoynar pushed his blade against the man, wanting so badly to end his life. The stranger may have had no part to play in the potential downfall of his family but behind the brown eyes, all Rhoynar could see was flames and the loss of everything he had. His sister humiliated, his mother sobbing as his family's men pulled her from his brother's dying body. They needed to leave.

Rhoynar had been about to demand exactly what friend, until Illinfer spoke. He was thankful for it, although perhaps his gratitude wasn't clear. He tried to focus his mind of how unlikely it was that his family would be dead upon his return to Astipor, after all Ilyn Grey needed his family alive if Rhoynar was to return with his treasure. Watching the man raise his hands, Rhoynar pulled his sword back and returned it to his side.

"We need to carry on. Through the night if we have to." He spoke quietly, turning his horse towards the road. "The sooner we get to Astipor, the sooner we can rest." His voice twitched with his own nerves, all of which had been shattered at the appearance of Illifer's old friend. His mind was curious but the questions could wait, after all, the man was still close by. He would wait until they were safe before questioning his companion on her past. No doubt such questions would arise in the future. He paused for a moment but pushing his horse into a trot. He turned his back to check before heading back along their path with the vision of an inferno in his mind once again. He would convince his family to leave if it meant delaying their journey for a few days. It wouldn't be a retreat if they still held power in Astipor. They had a council, no doubt someone would be willing to take up seat there in his families place. What if they couldn't be trusted? The worry was exhausting.

He paused on the darkness of the road until he knew Illifer was following and quickened his pace.
"Who was that man?" Rhoynar asked, the suspicion evident in his voice now. "You seemed more than shocked at his appearance."

Ilinfer watched as Darren left for the road before turning her attention back to her travel companion. Putting her sword back in it‘s sheath she nodded at his words. Yes, it would be best to continue. Who knew what Darren was up to now. Driving her horse to follow the knight she breathed deeply to calm herself. Soon enough she was back in her calm and attentive state of mind. It worried her greatly that her companion was so nervous. And he called himself a knight? Rather a boy with a sword! Bitting her lower lip she looked around, keeping their surroundings under observation. No more surprises tonight! All she wanted was the cool night air to clear her head. The long ride to Astipor was just what she needed.

At the sound of Rhoynars voice she turned to face him, frowning over his expression. So he was paranoid, too. Great! Nervous, paranoid and a sword in his hand. That was a really good combination of absolutely lethal and foolish! The question surprised her, though. Straightening her shoulders she looked ahead of them as not to face him directly. „He was a friend, a long time ago. Ha has changed . . . I barely recognised him.“ A deep sigh left her injured lip. She would have to do a bit more of explaining to scatter his worries. Ilinfer realised this and still took a while to finally find the right words that left her throat on a pressed tone. „He was my husbands best friend. Back in the day they would be sent out together at the guilds request. A year ago Darren was in charge of slaying an ogre who was terrorising a village close to the mountains. He was the lone survivor and blames himself for the deaths of his comrades. He doesn't realise that he just had plain luck.“

Her voice almost broke at this point so she cleared her throat. Talking about this was harder than she had imagined. The shock was still in her bones somewhere. Of course she was a professional, able to put all those disturbing emotions and thoughts aside to focus, but now she wasn‘t focusing on anything in particular. On the contrary - she was telling the story that tore open that fragile scar in her heart, flooding her with emotions she had no control over. Rhoynar would have get to know her past at some point but she wouldn‘T have thought it would be this fast. Why had Darren have to appear? This morning she hadn‘t known that this day would become a so sentimental! If only Ardebit would have sent a little more peace!

„It‘s a shame what has become of him. He used to be quite lively and very popular with the women! Now he‘s just this hollow person . . .“ The northern woman turned her head to look behind them briefly. She didn‘t really want to talk about everything and she hoped those were enough information to calm him down. Now it was her turn to question Rhoynar. A gentle smile played on her lips as she turned to face him again, a curl of black her clinging to her almost white cheek. „Why were you so nervous back there? We outnumbered him by length! And magic isn‘t that uncommon - we could have handled it easily should he have attacked us.“

The gaze from her steel coloured eyes was a curious but caring one. She meant no harm and she hoped he would notice. They would be travelling together for quite a while. If he usually was this nervous they‘d have to think of something to calm him down or avoid fights completely.

"He has changed." That was all he needed, that short comment to twist the worries of his mind over the edge and into the casasm beyond. There wasn't any chance that his family were finally going to be stricken from this land, cast asunder into history and old, leather bound books that only scholars and monks cared for, or those with ulterior motives. This wasn't the proof he needed, nor was it the proof he wanted. Rhoynar pushed his shoulders back and sat upright, trying with all of his might to remove the twisted and clenching worry from the pits of his stomach and mind. It was better to be with Illinfer than without- Darren, was it? He would have been dead in an instant, had Rhoynar been travelling alone, his mind unable to distract itself from the panic he felt when thinking of his home. After all, Astipor was a trade city. His family needed to hold Astipor, many cities within the Second East wouldn't have been willing to trade with any of the western lords; they offered the eastern kings, slave traders, and merchant lords nothing. They had nothing to trade, nothing to offer and nothing of interest. The world worked differently in the East. Family meant little other than sanctuary out there, there was no promise of inheritance for grand titles and excessive lands just because of name. Over there, title, money and power meant more. Three cities had self-proclaimed kings, although another man with a larger army would surely be King in a day if the opportunity came. Rhoynar's family had grown through a mixture of power and money. Trading in cloth, then spices, before trading in arms. It wasn't until the first Daeron purchased himself a band of loyal sell-swords did they secure their wealth and status, after all trading in slaves was a wealthy business if you held the power to deal with the dangers.

The olive-skinned man turned his attention to Illinfer as she spoke, her voice betraying the smallest crack in her facade, if only for the smallest second.
"Its a shame what has become of him. He used to be quite lively and very popular with the women. Now he's just this hollow person-"

"Grief can do that to a man, no matter what they were like before. If a man turns to drink, or blames himself for another's death, it will often eat them whole, Swallowing everything they had before and have now. It doesn't matter how strong they were before, often its the strongest in battle that fall the furthest when their time is over." Rhoynar commented, his attention forcing itself on the road ahead alone. No matter how hard little he wished his eyes would betray or how solid he willed his hands to be, his worst fears lingered on a reality he'd only heard moments of. He twisted his body, tight muscles holding himself in the saddle of his horse, despite their speed. He sat neatly on top of the hard leather, as regal as any man with the comfort of having ridden for a vast portion of his life.

"Why were you so nervous back there?" The knight felt his stomach twist again. Admitting his own foolish and untrue concerns made him look weak- "We could have handled it easily should he have attacked us."

"Imagine being told someone wants your family dead, that you are not welcome in the land you call home." Rhoynar spoke, his voice ringing out like cold steel in the dark of the night. "Powerless to do anything about it. To see your home burning before your eyes. Everything your family was and would ever be, gone, ripped out by an unknown enemy in a field of caring faces." He could feel his hands tremble slightly, his voice breaking only not out of sadness, but of anger. "If you know what it is like to lose family, try to picture having them ripped from your life. One by one. To believe they died from a better opponent only to have someone you trust tell you it was straight murder. To find out your own father was poisoned and to never catch the snake." He would blame the Greys.. Rhoynar would rip the head straight off the snake the instant he had a change. "You ask me why I am nervous and that is my reason. My family have only a small number of faces we can trust and they are disappearing by the day. I act not out of foolishness or immaturity but purely out of survival. I do not wish to see my family burn."

He could feel like heart thundering his chest, like hooves over solid ground, riding with speed. There was no reason to shout at Illinfer but he had to. She wouldn't understand- couldn't. She hadn't believed her brother's death to be the result in a God's favour or the death of her father to be the work of a merchant from the Second East, only to have two realities shattered shortly after being sent out of the country. He pushed his heels into the stomach of the beast he rode and spurred the creature into life once again, determined to reach Astipor before he lost his entire family.

Sie watched him as he spoke, the words suckering into her brain like poisonous rain. Frustration could be heard in his voice, could be seen in his features and the northern woman felt for her travel companion. If it had anything to do with his visit to that brothel? He had seemed tense ever since. Compassion started to soften her hard gaze upon him.

Illinfer wasn't worried about an ambush or Epona heading off in any direction to her hearts content even without her holding the reigns. The knight was afraid. This was a serious matter and affected their journey greatly. He acted foolishly and probably would again, there was no way he could deny it. Poor fellow. She would be out of her mind as well if she her family was on the line.

The northern warrior stared at him for quite a while after he had finished speaking. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As a commoner she didn't have to fear intrigue or attacks on a scale he did. Yes, the world was a dangerous place but she had the security of the fore guild who had a wide spread net throughout the western countries. She knew that any danger to her family would be recognized and taken care of without her having to initiate any action. On a sigh she turned back to him and opened her eyes. "Alright." Illinfer straightened her shoulders, one of them cracking loudly as the tension in it was loosened. "Let's go take care of your family before we head across the sea. If necessary we can get the guild involved. We have quite a few people who are trained in hiding and protecting threatened people. The guild also has the contacts and means for such a task." Her steel coloured eyes looked intently into Rhoynars, not accepting any kind of protest. He was her travel companion and thus her brother in arms. She'd help him. She knew what it was like to loose a loved one. That gaping hole that never closed.

She gave him a comforting smile that let her lip tear back open, a drizzle of blood slowly running down towards her chin. Her hair flew wildly about her face as the horses picked up speed. " We won't leave until they're safe!"

Rhoynar felt the cool wave of relief crash against the bay, pushing his worries back into the gates, locking them away. He pulled his eyes from the ears of his horse and up to Illinfer.

"Thank you." He spoke. To have someone by his side, against his back, was comforting. Yet to have that same person so calmly offer to keep him family alive was a blessing. He would thank her again when they were safe; all that mattered was travelling home. He knew his family were safe, he believed they were, but the overwhelming concern and worry had robbed him of hope. The Knight returned the woman's smile thrust two heels into the sides of his steed, bursting into life once again. Irregardless of the concern at hand, they had a task, a mission- a quest. Rhoynar knew the journey into the Second East was useful. They had old friends, no doubt he could stir enough pots and ring enough bells to gather a powerful enough guard to send over to his family.

The journey passed in suitable silence. Little words needed to be said. Their journey had been exhausting and the knight knew he would need to relax before their journey onwards; even if it meant remaining at home for a little longer than they had originally planned. Slowly, on the horizon, a glow formed. Dimly lit stars against the horizon, shadows of great towers lingering in the dark. Astipor; the First East. It was an insulting name but it's people embraced it. The wind whipped down through the valley behind them, causing flags to ripple in the wind further out into the bay. Rhoynar let out a small exhale of breath to see his home safe from harm. He pushed his heels in more and galloped against the now stone path towards the city. Before him stood two great gates, wrought from steel and iron, above it rippled the flags of his family, bronze and red decorated with a symbol unknown to the people in the West. The Knight's horse slowed before the gates, waiting for them to creak open before him to display the flood of the city behind them.

Astipor sang at night. The culture of the Second East echoed throughout its streets. Vibrant colours and the freedom of so many danced about the stone streets, bouncing off every street corner until the citadel was reached. The courtyard below was a square, with a ceiling made from grape vines, sweet and somewhat bitter. Behind it loomed the great fort he called home. Rhoynar eased his horse into the courtyard and handed the beast over to the first person that offered. With hastened footsteps, he rushed inside and paused inside a room covered in the same vibrant and lively colours as the city outside. It stood stark against the capital, against the north and against the whole of Illium.

Watching her words take effect she lifted her sleeve to wipe off the blood off her chin. Her tongue came out to lick over her split lip. So he could smile again. That was a relief! A moment she had feared he would suspect her of something or get defensive towards her. The night grew darker and they rode in silence. Illinfer listened into the darkness to keep them from running into trouble. Luckily the night was quiet and as the moon rose and the stars slowly showed behind the thinning clouds a moment of peace grasped the warrior. She had a purpose she could concentrate on. Pushing the lingering memory of her husbands death aside, burying the jumbling emotions Darren had caused, she was finally able to breathe in deeply.

They soon reached Astipor. The buzz of life surprised Illinfer. She had only been to the city once as a child shortly after her mother had died and her father had desperately looked for work. At that time the nights hours had been filled with the eerie moans of the sick. It hadn't been the (illness Rhoynar talked about) but the measles going around. Many died. Some were lucky – they had had the illness in young ages and fought it successfully. After that night they left, protected by the guild who had accepted her father into their ranks. Astipor had changed greatly! The warrior barely recognized it. As they passed the gates her eyes darted over the walls, finding that little firecrest hewn into the stone. If she were to follow the little bird she would find the guilds initial meeting point. From there she could be directed to any other houses the guild owned in the city. The safety procedures were dire at first, but one got used to it.

Following the knight Illinfer was very aware of her surroundings. But she didn't let herself get distracted by the flurry of colours and music. They passed dancing people and the northern woman asked herself when they slept. It was well past the moons zenith and she was starting to get tired herself. Rhoynar held towards a fort and was swiftly followed by Illinfer. She, too, left her horse with the stable boy who had rushed to them the moment he had seen the knight. As he rushed inside the northern woman cursed softly under her breath and hurried after him. She came to stand beside him. “This is a lovely home.” Her soft words carried through the semi silence surrounding them. It was quiet. “They are probably asleep. Do you want to wake them to be reassured, or may we rest first and greet them in the morrow?” She spoke in a quiet and deep voice, her eyes wandered through the room to rest upon Rhoynar. It was dark where they stood. And yet her eyes seemed to glow ever so slightly, her internal fire visible to the man standing next to her.

Tall ivory pillars reached up into the far reaches of the plafond each dressed in a rich, dark Byzantium. To their left shone elevated windows illuminated by the flickering moon on the ocean beyond. The shadows danced about the floor, pirouetting a tranquil melody across the stone. The silence of his home seemed to echo compared to the city outside and the habour beyond. Rhoynar could feel his own weariness creeping along behind, ready to pounce the instant he let himself relax. Their journey had been difficult and less than pleasurable. The Knight turned to Illinfer as her voice cracked the silence.

"I'll show you your room. You'll find beds across the city but you won't sleep tonight. Not out there." He spoke in hushed tones, speaking as if breaking the silence would shatter the sanctuary he had established. Without further word, the man stepped forwards, soft footfall echoing through the room. He guided her through a hallway, illuminated with the lights of the city. Rhoynar guided his companion along dark hallways and up narrow staircases. The Knight stopped before a door, embellished with labyrinthine stalks and petite flowers, no larger than a finger nail. He pushed on the metal handle and allowed Illinfer inside. Before them lay a room detailed with the same richness and elegance as the hall.

"It's Ka'sai silk." Rhoynar commented, one finger lifting to point towards the bed. "It may be warmer here than the North, but you won't feel it. Not with that." The bed adorned a vivid red silk much unlike the silks that drifted towards the capital. He dipped his head and turned back towards the door. "We will take our boat after midday." He quickly departed, leaving Illinfer in a room bathed in moonlight. Beyond the flickering curtain, stood a terrace overlooking a shaded and silent garden, covered in plants not native to Illium, with the ocean stretching further than would be visible. The rest of the room, lit only by the small torches upon the walls, seemed warm compared to the ocean beyond which for now was still and serene.

Rhoynar continued his way along the halls, feeling his own weariness inching its way across his body, ready to claim his mind and body. He advanced through passages and corridors until he stopped before the first of his families. There was nothing to say any of them were hurt... His hand paused before the door of his youngest sibling, allowing himself a moment to ensure his silence. He eased the door quietly and stopped as soon as the silhouette was visible. Seeing at least one member of his family sleeping safe gave way for a wave of reassurance and solace to crash against him. Illinfer had been correct all this time. He eased the door back once again, his shoulders unwinding. He remained in his spot for a moment and stifled a yawn. He quietly made his way to his own room, ignorant to the hum of the world outside. His foot ached and his mind throbbed for bed, calling for the rest he desperately needed.

Ilinfer inclined her head in thanks as he offered her a bed. He spoke so carefully . . . was he afraid to wake them? She knew she would have to react fast. So perhaps it would be best for her to search for the guild leader of Astipor and talk to him. Before she could utter her thoughts Rhoynar already led the way up the stairs. Of course she couldn't decline!

Following the knight she had some trouble memorizing the way. Distracted by all the splendor and riches around her the northern woman had no sense of how many stairs they ascended, how many corners they turned or in which direction the sea lay. When a door was opened for her she paused to run her fingers over the finely manufactured blossoms upon the wood. Then she entered, looking around. The room was as big as her entire home! At Rhoynar voice she turned. Silk! “I . . . ah . . .” She was speechless! Never would she have dreamed of entering let alone sleeping in a noble room such as this! When he took his leave she even missed wishing him a good night. And so she stood there, left alone in a room full of luxury she would never have in her life, full of the stuff she dreamt of when she had been but a girl, when her mother had still lived, when her father had first taught her to swing the blacksmiths hammer. Back then the world had been a different one around her.

A moment of clarity then suddenly struck her. She had arrangements to make! And if the situation was a dire as Rhoynar had made her believe she would have to act quickly! With a swift movement she emptied her travelers pouch on the bed. She had quite some equipment: daggers, rope, nails - some straight, some crooked and bent, a blanket, a small bowl, a spoon and knife, small pots with ointments against the most common ailments and the clothes she had been given in Astipor. Taking the daggers and leaving her cape she took a torch from the wall, extinguishing the rest with a swipe of her hand and then leaving the room. The fire guild, all sworn to Ardebit, were granted the power to extinguish non magical fire.
It took the warrior some time to find a way out of the huge mansion, but eventually she stepped into the cool night air. Here the bustle of the city could not only be felt, but heard as well. She’d have to ask the knight in the morning what all the celebrations were about.

It was easy to follow the small pictures of firecrests to a tavern called ‘The Singing Wale’. Entering she was greeted by stale are and glaring eyes. She looked around cautiously, all eyes on her, waiting. Illinfer breathed in deeply. So apparently they didn’t like strangers here. She lifted her hand and drew her talisman from under her blouse. It was then that she was greeted with kindness, offered food and drink and bade to sit. “I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this. I need to talk to someone who can help me protect someone.” she said to the innkeeper who was just about ton pour her a cup of ale. He nodded with a smile and led her through the room to a secluded table that was surrounded by heavy drapes. There she sat, waiting. A man entered - he seemed to be in his mid thirties - and sat down opposite from her. His hair was of a light color, his eyes of a piercing blue. He wore normal clothes and had an air of authority about him. “I hear you need help?” he said in a silky voice, eying the woman from head to toe. The warrior straightened her back and smiled kindly. “I am Illinfer Blacksmith.” She extended her hand and the man clasped it with a nod. “Tor Jeweler, at your service. You want us to protect someone for you?”
“Yes. Well, my companion, to be precise. We are about to embark on a mission across the great sea and he worries greatly for his families safety.”
“I see . . . and is your companion part of our guild?”
“No. But he is my brother in arms for the next upcoming six months.”
The man nodded and drew out a pipe from his belt. “You will be vouching for him?”
“No, he will pay your services. I am here to inquire the price and extent of the contract.”
Of course she was lying, but the man didn’t seem to care much and so they started negotiations. A few hours and two pitchers of ale later they had an agreement written out on paper. Rhoynar would only have to fill in his name and the people he wanted protected. Then Illinfer could bring the signed document back to Tor and the knights family would be closely watched and guarded by the guild until their return. If necessary the contract included a flight plan and extensive use of the guilds resources and network to hide the people up to a year. This way the whole family would just seemingly disappear, managing their affairs from the shadows until they had built a defense big enough that they could protect themselves at reemergence.

Happy with herself Illinfer left the tavern and made her way back to Rhoynars mansion. There she managed to get hold of servant and asked him to show her to her room which she described to him. The boy didn’t believe her at first, bu after they had bet upon her belongings being on the bed in the described room he led her there, flipping her two silver coins when proven wrong and vanished grimly in the hallway. Illinfer sighed as she put her things aside and undressed. Naked as the gods had made her she lay down on the bed, pulling the wonderful silked cover over her body and closed her eyes. The smooth fabric slid over her skin with ease and made her tremble slightly. What an exiting day it had been. And a tiring one as well.With little of the night left she fell into a deep slumber filled with dreams of past and happy days.

With the grip of fatigue on his heels, Rhoynar made the journey from his youngest sibling's room to his own. The soft tap of leather against stone barely echoed in the quiet halls. Outside lingered the sound of music and cheering, merriment and ecstasy. Tonight was a new moon, a symbol in the Second East. The people of Astipor would not sleep until the first dawns light, each having spent the night singing their praise to a goddess long forgotten across the ocean and along the valleys of Illium. She lived as Eyo in the East, a women more beautiful than any mortal could describe. Skin as white as the moon and hair as black as the night she dwelled in. She was loved by all those who followed the faith. The city outside barely seemed to disturb the walls of Rhoynar's home. Nothing but silence and the faint footfalls of a man so previously troubled by the words of a worm in a brothel.

His feet carried the empty shell to his room, hands locking the door behind him as if purely out of routine. There existed no thought as he disrobed and dropped into the silk below, olive skin against rich red silk. It was a strange material, leeching the heat from the air to ensure the body remained cool despite the heat outside. Rhoynar eased the fabric over himself and allowed the world around him to spin as his mind raced. So much had happened in one day. He hadn't expected the day to be has eventful as it had, nor had he expected to meet someone he trusted as much as he was trusting Illinfer. The knight felt his eyes grow heavy and his thoughts fog over, knowing the pleasent embrace of sleep was only moments away. He was grateful, for tomorrow would promise him a moment with his family before he left. He thought of them before exhausted pulled him from consciousness. He thought of his mother and father, forever plagued by the loss of their son. His sister, too young to deal with the pressures of the world she was growing up in. His thoughts drifted over to his youngest brother, too young to even comprehend the dangers of the land they called home. Finally, his mind stopped on his elder brother, lost too young, leaving him without the guidance he'd had so shortly before. Then it went black, his mind consumed by fatigue, leaving him only to drift in the void of sleep.

Rhoynar didn't dream that night, not until the sound crashing and screaming broke the silence of his home. Rhoynar pushed himself from his bed, his torso laced in sweat. His hands made a desperate dash for a sword he could not find. He hunted along the floor for his belt, unable to locate it in the darkness. Panicking and frought, the man pushed himself through the heavy wooden door and into the halls beyond. The world outside seemed vibrant with fire, the horrified wailing of the city dancing painfully into the night outside. The whole place was under attack. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, bouncing and thundering against his skin, ready to burst. Illinfer had been wrong this entire time! If they'd hurried back none of this would have happened. He found his feet again and made a dash to his family's quarters. His bare feet slapped against the stone floor, burning yellow with the reflections of the world outside. How had he let his happen?! He was supposed to look after them! The rage inside seemed white hot, screaming inside his own head.

Darting through the halls and down a set of stairs, Rhoynar hurried to his sister's room, desperate to ensure her safety. That was when he heard the first sound he hadn't ever wished to hear. A scream so shrill and so afraid it chilled him to the core. It stank of every fear he'd ever experienced. Every thought he'd never wished to happen seemed to resonate within his ears. He sprinted along the hall, almost tripping on the stairs. He made his way to the first of his family's rooms only to be greeted with a figure slumped by the door. With his heart in his mouth, Rhoynar hurried over.

"Mother?" He muttered, kneeling by her side, ready to console her with what little time he had. Her figure remained slumped against the wall, craddling a bundle in her arms, her sobs stifled by her own exhausted. "Mother, what happened?" He muttered, the figures becoming clear as he got closer. The knight dropped to his knees as the light of the fire outside illuminated the scene in front of him. His mother's arms drenched in the red of a boy no older than nine. His face seemed twisted in a fear no boy should ever have to experience. His limp arms clutched against his mother's chest as the life slowly continued to spill from the open would on his neck. Rhoynar exclaimed his own despair, the grief ripping a hole in his chest. He lifted a hand to stroke the black hair of the boy in front, the desperate wish to comfort him. It proved fruitless since the boy remained lifeless in his mother's sobbing arms. Rhoynar pulled himself to his feet, stifling back the tears that still streamed down his face.

"Mother, please. You have to hide." He muttered, trying to get her to stand. "Mother, please. You have to hide. We can deal with Riyon later, but first you need to be safe." His voice cracked as he spoke, the desperation growing stronger as the women refused to move. "Where's father? Do you know if Ilsa is safe?" If his mother wasn't going to move, he at least needed to locate the rest of his family. The women continued to whimper, head drooped down over her lost son. The castle seemed silent again until the same piercing scream resonated off the stone walls. His own mother seemed to scream in response, her tears and weeping growing more violent. Rhoynar stepped back, his heart thundering almost audibly.

He wasn't even thinking as his feet carried him along stone and down the twisting halls of his home, the screaming growing in volume as he ran. There was no thought now, only fear. The closer he got to the court room, the larger the sound grew. It echoed off each wall and in his mind, racing against the fears he already had. Sprinting downstairs, Rhoynar bounded down the final flight and into the grand room ahead. The walls seemed to dance red with flames and the blood of all those who had already died. His watched four figures engage in combat, three against one. He could barely pull his eyes off the dancing shadows until the scream pulled his attention. The flames licked the windows, flooding the room with a hideous red light. The sound of clashing metal rang out, followed by a pained yell. One figure ripped a blade along the back leg of the man they fought, knocking him to the ground. Another blade followed, plunging straight into the chest of the man.

"Father!?" Two voices called out. Rhoynar immediately searched the darkness for his sister, his eyes darting between the scene before him and the darkness of the room ahead. One final blade seemed to glint in the light before swinging clean and fast for the man's shoulders, knocking his head straight to the ground.

"Rhoynar he-" His sister yelled, her voice trailing off into a howl as an armored hand met her cheek. The knight could do nothing but dash towards her voice. His eyes stopped on his sister, kneeling between two men clad in shining armor, each baring a symbol Rhoynar knew two well. Illyn Grey, a huge tree, ringed with flame. His hands reached for a sword on his waist only to fumbled with the side of his trousers instead. Ilsa quickly began to sob as the same three men circled him like they had his father. He felt his shoulder ache with the sudden pain of metal against skin as one man brought the hilt of his sword down, knocking him to floor in seconds. He dropped to his knees in defeat, weaponless and defeated. His eyes met with his sister's as the two men dragged her away, already clawing at her. She hadn't disappeared from sight when Rhoynar felt the sting of metal in his throat. His head swam and the world span faster and faster. He coughed up a thick liquid and felt his body growing weaker and weaker. His hands lifted to his mouth, wiping the blood from his lips. By the time the solider had pulled the blade from his neck, Rhoynar no longer saw anything.

The world seemed black for a while, yet the sound of the ocean lapped in his ears. He could feel the cool breeze on his skin, the birds singing from the gardens below. Immediately he jolted upright, hyperventilating and confused. Both his eyes darted about the room, looking for anything that seemed out of place. The sun was almost high enough to indicate noon was nearby- He climbed out of bed quietly and dressed himself without sound. Rhoynar eased the door open and stared into the hall beyond. There was no fire and the view into the city outside seemed normal. He continued onwards, sword in hand as he made his way towards the court room. He could hear the faint sound of laughter, yet he continued the walk of unease along each stone and each step until his eyes stopped on each member of his family seated around a long wooden table laiden with the remains of a breakfast he'd clearly missed.

Illinfer awoke with a start, jacking her body up, off the soft mattress. Standing in the room she looked around. She was alone. As tears rolled down her cheeks she realized she was crying, soft sobs heaving her chest. This happened sometimes. She dreamt of him, his touch, his warmth, his laughter . . . and then she woke to a cold and empty bed. His absence cut into her heart as though someone had plunged a dagger into it. This wasn't good! In an attempt to calm herself she started pacing the room, passing by the trunk, the bed, her sword . . . this wasn't helping. With a soft curse she put on her boots, took all her things and went down to the entrance of the huge manor. Whilst passing she heard voices from the dining room. It wouldn't be appropriate to barge in and surely Rhoynar would want a few hours alone with his loved ones before they set sail. So the northern woman passed the room on quiet soles and descended into the courtyard.

It took her a while to find the stables where she tended to her horse. Then she looked for another occupation. It was when she heard the sound of swords clashing against each other that her mood lightened somewhat. The stable boy led the way and brought her to a huge pen layer out with sand. Men were practicing swordplay. One in particular caught her eye. He was tall and swung his sword with deadly precision. “Greetings!” She said when they came closer. The boy introduced her as Rhoynars guest before running off again. “Greetings lady Ilinfer.” the man replied. The northern woman laughed. “Oh no. I am no lady!” With a galant stride she came closer, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I was wondering if I might join your practice. It would be a waste not to use this opportunity.” Her eyes locken on those of the man and she knew he wouldn't refuse her. If it was because she was a guest of a family member or that she seemed persuasive - she didn't care much as long as her mind got distracted from the death of her husband. The void he had left inside her was so consuming that at times it was hard to keep it at bay. But this past year she had learned what helped her cope. Fighting was one of them. “I should let you practice with one of the new apprentices. They . . . “ She cut him off by lifting her hand. “Forgive me, I wasn't clear enough. I wish to cross swords with you.” The man was surprised. “I do not think our skills are equal.” He mumbled, obviously not wanting to insult Illinfer. But she wasn't. Even in the northern regions where women fought just as men did they barely matched a mans skill. Luckily for her she had been taught by the best swordsman of the guild and she wasn't afraid.

With a quick movement she brandished her sword and smiled at him with a challenging smile on her lips. Swords crossed with the typical sounds of metal crashing against metal. At first he had underestimated her and Ilinfer quickly won the upper hand. But he was fast to recover. And so they fought, surrounded by others who first watched then focused on their own combats. The northern woman and the to her unknown soldier? Knight? Fought for a long time until finally she found an opening and lunged at him with a shout. Little did she know that she could be heard in the dining room where a sleepy Rhoynar had just entered.

Although her attack had been quick the other managed to block it and let his sword swing towards her head. She fell to her knees and used the hilt of her sword to stab at his stomach. The same moment she felt the cool steel of his blade at her neck. They halted, frozen in a pose that under other circumstances would have been their deaths. Panting Ilinfer moved first, lowering her weapon, as did the other quite slowly. Glaring at each other they burst into laughter. All the tension had fallen off Ilinfer and she was happy to see that the guards of this manor had talent and obviously a great leader, too. She needed a few moment before she could get up. It had been a while since she last had the opportunity to fight on such an equal level and she was happy how it had turned out. She felt a the hair in the back oft her neck stand up. Someone was watching her Form not too far away. Slowly ehe Turner to See who it was.

With the thunder of an anxious heart still bouncing against his skin, Rhoynar watched as the quarter conversed over the remains of juices and wine. There stood no sign of battle, not indications of harm, no remains of a siege; only the cheery laughter of his youngest brother. The man began his descent down the spiral stairs that connected a small railed alcove above the hall below. Rhoynar's feet carried his at a pace that bordered between a sprint and a brisk walk. The relief of seeing his family unharmed was equal to almost none. The dream had felt so real, so absolute, but as were dreams of such fear. Nightmares were never pleasurable. They existed to torture and wined the mind into a fearful state until sunrise. Rhoynar continued, the soft patter of leather on the stone floor following each step.

"You could see the priests lighting fires and the huge cloths and all the colours-"
"Rion, the festival was too late for you to be awake."
"But, there was so much happening!"
"You should listen to your mother. You'll never grow up to be as strong as a knight if you don't listen to her."
The exchange, whilst short, gave Rhoynar the final ability to relax. His parents, both black of hair with skin the colour of cured leather, seemed as in love as the day they first met. His mother's soft features matching the weary but passionate expression of his father. They were a couple to be jealous of. Their short moments together, holding hands, taking a moment to admire the views, or even stealing glances across busy rooms, they were a pair to admire. His siblings shared similar features, his brother carrying his mother's soft eyes and his father jaw, stern and serious, hair as wild as their grandfather's. His sister had inherited the looks of their grandmother. Her skin shone the colour of sand, eyes blue and figure slim. She was a sight to see, hair twisted, each curl catching the sun's rays from outside.

"But it will never happen again." Rion frowned, folding his arms and looking down at the wooden table. He soon shrieked with laughter and his father pulled him from his seat and turned up around in his arms.
"It happens every year, my boy. One day you'll be old enough to go. You're only ten summer's, you should be practicing with swords." The man laughed, tickling his son until another sight caught his eye. "Rhoynar! You're home!" Rion struggled from his father's grip and hurried over, embracing the knight's waist as tight as he could. He made his way towards the table and took a moment to greet his mother. She may have been young in appearance but the west had aged her. Her face wrinkled under her eyes and around her mouth, lines of worry and concern.

"Hello, mother." Rhoynar whispered. his arms wrapping around her shoulders. The moment was brief, but seeing her eyes content, Rhoynar felt himself relax. His father quickly handed him a cup and wine before regaling the events since their son's departure some weeks before. Rhoynar listened intently, his lips tugging into a smile as their tales of the paradise they called home became conversation once again. Astipor was a haven among the grey cities of Illuim. Vibrant with culture and a city filled with citizens of varying colour and faith, all sharing the belief of Eyo and her family. However it was only an echo of the world beyond the ocean and into the Second East. Towering cities bathed in white, homes overflowing with gold, merchant ships painted with vibrant colours, and smells beyond the imagination. Rhoynar felt the same sense of excitement to be crossing over as always.

"What did Grey want with you?" His father finally asked, cutting the conversation into silence instantly. Eight eyes turned to look at their kin, waiting to hear what one of the most powerful Lords in the west had wanted with their son.
"He's asked me to find someth-" Rhoynar stopped, his heart racing again as a shout passed through the open windows and into the hall. His feet carried him over to the door, his mind momentarily fearing for Illinfer's safety. His eyes paused on a duo, both at arms, both at a stalemate. He soon heard the rumbling laugh of his father, the clap of his hands as he walked out into the yard.

"Brother! She almost had you, we're going to have to get your practicing more." He chuckled, moving past Illinfer to embrace the man Rhoynar called uncle. His hair and features were almost identical, yet the greying of age had set upon the guard, his eyes tired and his hair thinning.
"She's talented, I'll give her that."
"Aye, but use a curved blade and she's at a loss." Rhoynar smiled, finally joining his father and uncle opposite Illinfer. He clasped the man firmly before turning to offer Illinfer a hand to rise. He would explain their quest in private, scour his father's library before leaving the city shortly after noon. They'd be across the see before the end of the fortnight.

Illinfer saw the man befire she heard him, standing next to Rhoynar. Then they came towards them. Her own ringing laughter mingled with the dark tones of the mens and she thought it fit right in there. Finally catching her breath she watched as the brothers greeted each other before she was offered a hand by Rhoynar. Was he smiling? She took his hand, pulling herself up from the dust. She patted at her leather trousers to get rid of the sand. “I hope to learn how to fight against and with a curved blade some day.” She turned towards the man she hadn't met yet and who seemed to be the knights father. Ilinfer inclined her head in a small bow, resting her right fist against her chest. “Illinfer Blacksmith, sire, warrior of the fire-guild, at your service.”

As she lifted her head her dark hair pooled around her shoulders. The bruise on her neck was mostly covered by the dark strands, although it was still visible to any attentive person. The wound at her lip was deep red as it had started to heal. Her cheeks were slightly blushed and now that she wasn't wearing her cape the soft curves of her body were suggested by the blouse and vest she was wearing. She's Hong her sword her eyes wandered to Rhoynar. “Could I have a word with you in private?” Her voice was kind yet her eyes and expression let the knight know it has business she wanted to talk about.

They left the talking brothers behind and went deeper into the garden to halt in a pavilion made from alabaster stone and overgrown with roses that were in full bloom. Ilinfer went to stand near the cool wall. Now that she had cooled off somewhat the colour faded from her cheeks, letting them return to the pale shade of the northern folk. She hadn't been out and about these past months. Her teint surely looked a little ghostly. With a smile she focused on Rhoynar. “I talked to the guild. They offer assistance and protection.” She raised a hand so if he wanted to interrupt her he wouldn't have the chance to do so. “They have no idea who I was talking about. I merely let them know that a family needed protection. Now, because I would vouch for you and your kin then would go down on the price and wouldn't have to meet you in person. My word is enough for them to start patrolling the city and scouting ways to get them out of here if need be. These people are very capable. They've done this a few times before. If you want to who you're dealing with I can set up a meeting.” With that she lowered her hand again. This was all she could offer him. Now it was at him to take or leave it. His family was his responsibility after all, not hers. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at him, waiting for an answer.

Ilinfer felt awake after the swordplay with the knights uncle but she knew too well that the short night would take it's toll sometime throughout the day. Hopefully she'd get a little sleep on the their passage over the great waters. She'd never been aboard a boat before but somehow she imagined it would be soothing. Her hand went to her throat to touch the dark bruise indicating she had been throttled. Under her fingers the skin felt as soft as ever. As she carefully applied pressure with her fingertips it stung. That man had had quite a grip on her!

"I'm sure you shall." The elder guard smiled, the creases of age gathering on his brow and around his eyes. His attention shifted to his own family as the two brothers returned inside the shaded halls of their home. Their voices and laughter trailed off, leaving Rhoynar and his companion to whatever remained of their day. The former watched his two family members depart before stepping to the side to guide Illinfer to a quiet and unfrequented area of their home. Thick vines wrapped around stone and wood, covering each wall with a layer of sharp green thorns. Above them shone the morning sun, warm yet subdued by the spring air. Along each wall and vine sat a vivid, claret red roses, open and aimed directly at the sky. The gardens were a sight of beauty, a sanctuary of peace and tranquility. The roses were native to Illium, as the roses his family loved could not cope with the chilled weather in the west.

Rhoynar followed behind his Illinfer, stopping as she did. She stood out in Astipor. Pale with her own dark features. Rhoynar took a moment to look her from head to foot, her dark hair, her eyes, her skin, the mark on her neck, her hips, and her legs. She would stand out beyond the shores of Astipor, and with the heat that hounded the air in the Second East, he doubted it would be long at all before her skin held the glow of sunlight. His attention shifted to her words when she spoke again.
“I talked to the guild. They offer assistance and protection.” Rhoynar felt his shoulders ease with the knowledge safety. "My word is enough for them to start patrolling the city and scouting ways to get them out of here if need be. These people are very capable. They've done this a few times before. If you want to who you're dealing with I can set up a meeting.” The cost would be less than the cost of losing his family, it was of little concern.

Rhoynar took a short step forwards and pulled Illinfer close, his head paused by her own.
"Whatever the cost, I will cover it. Thank you." He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His arms felt strong, his hands coarse, his skin a strange scent of spices not native to the western islands, a mix of fragrant flowers and warm spices; he lingered for no longer than a moment. As his arms stirred, his attention shifted to her neck. With one hand he gestured towards her neck, gently easing her own fingers from the wound. "Forgive me, but what happened?" The Knight queried, eyes trailing back up to her own. It wasn't an injury he'd noticed before- Her skin felt soft unlike his own.

The knight surprised her by letting her finish. There seemed to be relieved. And then he suddenly came closer. Illinfer stiffened as he embraced her. She had to restrain herself from kicking him where it hurt most and draw her sword. The way he smelled was most irritating. There was something so foreign in it, she couldn‘t place the scents. She was surrounded by the scent of pine trees, moos and fresh cut wheat. "Whatever the cost, I will cover it. Thank you." The whisper so close to her ear sent a shiver down her spine. Her breath caught slightly. The last time she had been so close to a man without being in combat it had been her husband . . . He finally released her and as his warmth made way for cool air she breathed in deeply, appreciating the distance. Illinfer stepped back slightly and even more as took her hand from her throat and let his finger trail over her skin. The brush of his rough fingers made her turn away from him, taking herself from his reach and his gaze. With a feint and sad smile and crossed arms she looked out into the gardens. „I had to entertain myself while you were in that brothel. So I got into a fight at a tavern.“ She shrugged, straightening her shoulders and memories rose from that wonderful man she had married. Why it still hurt this much she couldn‘t understand. The trigger always being something else.

The northern woman put her hand on her hip and turned back to the night, feeling more comfortable with him a few feet away. „Is that the way you thank people where you‘re from? Because here you could get in real trouble coming so close to a woman without permission.“ She then smiled as not to make her words too rude or cold. It had just been too much for her. In her eyes there was a glint of the hurt she felt - not because he had toucher but because of the memories she was trying so hard to suppress. „I shall set up a meeting then. I‘d suggest bringing the person in charge here so your family will know the face of the man who‘ll come get them if danger arises. Your guards would also get to know him. In my opinion it makes things a lot easier. That way they‘ll know who to trust.“ While talking her voice was calm and composed, almost soothing. The vowels accented and pronounced almost with care, as was the northern way of speech.

A breeze carried the scent of roses to them and played with a strand of her hair that tickled her cheek. She looked him directly in the eye, waiting for an answer. How was she supposed to work with him for the next months if he kept acting irrationally? First he was on edge, in a bad mood and twitchy in potentially dangerous situations and now he was just hugging a stranger and showed so much care . . . If she didn‘t know any better she‘d think he was a woman. The thought made her chuckle slightly. Probably it was just the extreme situation he was in. Compassion flared in her eyes as she thought of how worried he had been about his family and how relieved he now was seeing them well and healthy. She respected that and could understand it.

Why was she so insulted? He hadn't done anything wrong; he'd only meant to show gratitude. The man furrowed his eyebrows and paced back three. Whatever he'd done to upset her- he just hoped it would disappear before they reached the eastern shores. His eyes danced between her and the world that surrounded them. The fluffy white clouds floating through a sky painted powder blue, the busy streets beyond the vine-covered walls, the sound of guards laughing and cheering, all clearly still carrying the joys of the previous evening. Her voice trailed over his ears, giving him leave to look at her again, although temporarily. He made no comment on her fight, only to nod his head in acknowledgement. Clearly he had touched a nerve, whatever it was.

"Forgive me-" Rhoynar simpered. "-It is a customer across the sea and within the city boundary's. It's easy to forget, I am sorry." He dropped his head and bowed briefly. Knowing it would be some time before he could even pry as to her reactions, the Knight resigned to remaining unknown. The world beyond the sea would shock Illinfer, the people lived differently there. Rich cities beyond the wealth of the West, cities rising high on hills, vast deserts with only the nomads for comfort. The legions of tribes stretching beyond the endless sands, each struggling for power. The slave caravans, the one hundred kings, the strange beasts and the customs. She'd barely last a minute with his family, let alone anyone else they encountered.

Yet, he'd been told things were changing. His friend hadn't been clear as to how but he dared to think. People were fleeing, but from what?
"I'll have my father meet them." He spoke, his voice matching the collected and defined tone it had one they originally spoke. If things were going to be this way, Rhoynar did have power over her, land and title gave any man abilities beyond a guild. Especially across the ocean- Daeron was a family name known throughout the Second East, traders and slavers. It was their trade and their name, He knew not if her guild held any power over the water but with the number of guilds and orders fighting for supremacy, he doubted their presence.

"The ship leaves at noon. I suggest purchasing clothes from the market. It's far warmer there than you'll have experienced. Especially if we're crossing the deserts." He stepped a further pace back and gestured for her to leave the gardens. "They'll be cheaper on these shores, you'd be best to purchase them before we leave. The Free Markets aren't as regulated as Ilium's." He commented, his feet taking him back along the paved path and back towards his home.

When the knight apologised she nodded in appreciation and smiled. He seemed to be taken aback by her reaction to his embrace, but he'd have to deal with that on his own. Illinfer felt content, having pushed the hurtful memories aside. She then nodded at his words, noticing how he backed away from her even further. Had she hurt his feelings? Or just surprised him? But he had been the one to suddenly come so close, so unexpectedly. The northern woman nodded when he said he'd have his father meet the man. "I shall bring him here, then." It probably would be best if they settled everything amongst each other.

Then Rohynar did something so arrogant she was reminded he was a noble feeling as if he'd just slapped her across the face. She was dismissed. Who didn this arrogant man think he was? Here she was, offering to help him and he didn't just touch her without permission, he simply dismissed her like some maid serving his every needs. The northern woman breathed in deeply, following and finally catching up to him. She mirrored his pace. "Sire . . . I didn't mean to offend you in any way. Please allow me to explain." When she slowed down and he kept level with he she breathed in relieved. Finally she stopped in her tracks, looking at the ground as she started to speak. "My husband died a summer ago." Now it was out there. She had said it and the sting in her chest made it hard to breathe, but she continued non the less, ignoring the sensation of her heart ripping apart once more. "The last time I was embraced by a man it was him, before he left. I admit, I was very surprised and it brought back memories . . . Sometimes I dream of his as though he was right beside me and the dream is so real that I awaken and . . . And knowing again that he is gone . . ." She breathed in deeply and looked up at Rhoynar with a smile. "I would like to be on good terms with you since we'll be spending quite an amount of time together the next months."

Illinfer felt a little uncertain baring herself so to him. She felt a little raw and her hand went back to her neck, caressing the dark bruise. The breeze made her hair dance around her cheeks. Her steel coloured eyes were searching for his. Why had she exposed herself so to this man? She had told him almost everything she was coping with in her life . . . Almost. But the rest she had to keep to herself, she knew. Somehow it made her feel stronger thinking that at least one secret would be kept her own. Then again she did owe him an explanation and now he had one. And she hadn't broken down over it. That was a relief!

Rhoynar walked, the soft sound of crunching gravel underneath his feet. The bustle of the city echoed over the walls yet didn't seem to disturb the peace that settled in the gardens. The gardens stretched up towards his home, the height scaling into the sky above them, weather worn white walls glistening in the sunlight, windows twinkling as the noon sky neared its peak. Illinfer may have been irrational yet he felt her to be honest and true. He already carried a debt he'd have to repay. She was helping him far more than any other would have. Their journey across the ocean would prove to be tiring, difficult, and testing. In truth, he would have picked few others instead of Illinfer to accompany him.

'Sire?' He slowed his pace, his expression confused. Brown eyes looked over her face as she turned to look to the ground, giving him the hint pushing the question now would be less than advisable. Instead he listened. His features softened, gripped with an empathy he only briefly understood. He couldn't envision the pain of such heartbreak; how she'd carried it for so long was a mystery to him.

"My people-" He started. "We believe that although a life may have passed from this world. Their presence can be seen in the world around us." His gaze stayed on her whilst he spoke, his words grasping at a form of comfort he hoped she'd understand. Although their grief was shared, it wasn't similar. His brother had been lost for almost a decade, and his life had been torn from their own by a nature they did not understand, yet it wasn't what Illinfer felt. To lose a love; Rhoynar couldn't pretend he understood. Instead, he chose to try. "I see my brother in the morning sun. My mother sees him in the rain and the moon." Rhoynar turned his gaze upwards, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the brilliant light. "My people, although our family leave us, we can take comfort in seeing them in the world around us. Perhaps when grief grips you in the night, you'll be able to see him too. You may not share our faith or our Gods, but I hope the thought brings you respite." Rhoynar passed her a faint smile, searching her face for any signs of comfort. His own eyes found hers, and lingered for a moment. His stare saw her pale skin, milk white compared to his own, the contours of her skin and the colour in her cheeks. Her eyes seemed deep, as if all the sadness she had faced lingered within. He swiftly shifted his look and turned along the path. There was comfort in her openness but a confusion in their exchange. He couldn't explain why. Perhaps it was the share in a common grief, or the feelings they'd both revealed.

"We should prepare. It's almost noon and the Second East changes faster than anywhere in the land your used to." Beginning the walk back once again, Rhoynar pushed aside the confusion he'd felt with suddenly sharing his own thoughts. "I would recommend you purchase clothes before we begin our journey. It won't be much time before the sun grows warmer."

Illinfer listened to him, blinking away a small tear that came to her by his words. He was so understanding that it made her smile with relief. Rhoynars voice washed over her, strangely soothing and she felt she could get lost in the deep softness of it. While he spoke she kept her gaze level, watching him. He had a burden upon his shoulders, one she could very much understand. She too had to be the one to take care of her family since her husband had died. Her father lived somewhere in the north and made all sorts of things from swords to pans. She hadn't seen him in years. And then there were Jarlaths parents whom she was now taking care of. His father was too old to work any longer and his mother didn't make enough money as a seamstress to keep the house and food on the table. But they had Illinfer and she had dedicated herself to caring for them.

Rohynar smiled at her. It was nice to see him smile. It made him look really handsome. He should try and do it a little more often. He met her gaze and she felt as though he was searching her soul for something. But what he hoped to find she could not fathom. "Thank you. I think it's a wonderful belief! I shall keep it in mind." He turned away and she stepped beside him as he started to walk again. "Oh, I already got clothes in the capital. But I shall hurry and get Tor, the man who'll take care of the safety of your family. I'll bring him here so you can speak with him directly." She waited for a small sign of acknowledgement before she hurried to the stables to get Epona. Without saddling the horse she put on her reigns and shortly after made her way back to the tavern she had visited the previous night.

As she arrived Tor was standing outside, talking to a woman. He looked up as Illinfer steadied Epona before them."If that isn't the blacksmiths daughter." She nodded with a smile. "Tor. I need you to come with me to settle what we talked about yesterday." The man chuckled. "And here I thought you came to see me." Illinfer grinned and reached out a hand to help him onto Eponas back. But instead the woman gave her a smile and backpack. The northern woman frowned. "What is this?"
"Let's see. A backpack, some beef jerky, dried fruit, clothers for the Secound East and vile containing the antidote to the poison of a snake you will most likely encounter with your ankles first. And sandals that should fit you." At her confusion he was the one to grin. "After you had visited me a man arrived from the capital who had been given a message instructing me to make sure you had everything you nedded for your journey across the sea."
"Thank you!" She held the backpack close to her and smiled widely. Then Tor took a hold of her hand and got up on Epona behind her. He put his hands upon her shoulders to hold himself, not touching her otherwise. She was thankful for that. They made their way back to Rhoynars home and Tor was surprised what family Illinfer had meant when she had looked for him the past night. On the ride they settled that Tor would take Epona and Illinfers belongings and keep them until she returned. To need to take along things she wouldn't need. He helped her sort out those useful to her on her journey and those that wouldn't be before they entered the mansion. Illinfer had so little on her that it went rather fast.

Then she set off to look for Rhoynar while in a deep conversation with Tor about the Secound East. She finally found him and formally introduced her guild brother. "This is Tor Jeweler. He is in charge of all guild matters here in Astipor."