The wind was unusually calm that morning. The ship sailed forward without any disturbance, not even the sea protested as the wooden construction moved through the blue depths. The tradesmen aboard the ship went about their business, recovering from an awful storm which had haunted the ship the night before. They had set sail from the Midlands long ago, and Eliana could not quite keep track of the days. She had been on the way to Raylia for weeks by now, after arriving at a harbour in the Midlands, where she managed to convince the tradesmen to take her along with them on the ship.

The girl sat in the small cabin she had been given and stared out the window. The waves moved in that blue colour everything did for her recently. After the council had managed to fix her sight to an extent, a patch, as the grandmaster Larnicus had put it. She looked around in the cabin. There was no one else here, a simple silence, which she expected she would grow used to in the coming weeks, maybe even months or years. There was no saying how long it would take to find those Lafontairre brothers, or if they were even still alive. Far as Eliana knew; the small sparks of a rebellion might already have been extinguished.
 
“Land ahoy!” the boy in the mast shouted, as Eliana wandered outside to the deck. In the distance, she could sense a horizon of a town, but it was faint. The men amongst her began discussing amongst themselves, of how they’d sell their wares, what they’d spent the money on and so on. None of them had spoken to the half-blind girl, besides when food was being served. It had been far from enjoyable, but Eliana suspected it could’ve been a worse trip. 

The chatter from the harbour soon overwhelmed the men aboard the ship, as the ship’s passengers made their way onto the dock. Eliana adjusted the straps on her satchel, as she made her way towards the centre of the fisherman’s town. She was headed towards Loyton, wherever that was. East, she had been told. “And east I am.” Eliana sighed to herself. 

It had not taken long to find the local tavern. It was loud inside, and whether it was a celebration or a brawl could be anyone’s guess. Eliana stood outside the door, listening to the madness inside. She had not been on her own for years and felt an awful anxiety rising within her, at the realisation of her situation. The door before her barged open, as a man stumbled outside, giving her a half-arsed greeting as he drunkenly stumbled forward, headed for god knows where. She offered him a wave, as he passed. And with a quick step, she wandered inside, groaning at the many new shapes that glowed blue before her. “Best fit in.” A voice whispered from somewhere, and Eliana turned her head in confusion, finding no one to be near her. Several people had passed her, and each one of them could’ve been the culprit. Nonetheless, it had sent a chill down her spine, and thus her paranoia already grew.

“Loyton?!” The man snorted into a loud laughter, waving his hand about. “What in the Queen’s name do you want to find in Loyton!? It’s nothing impressive, [i]jeune dame.[/i]” His raylian accent sliced right through, and Eliana simply sat with her hands in her lap, sighing internally.

“But I’m certain someone is nuts enough to take you. It’s a mess, [i]jeune dame.[/i]” He almost laughed, taking a swig of his mead.

“Because of the rebels?” Eliana bluntly asked him. The man shot her a glare, hushing her. 
“You want to get tossed into the cells? This is a town of the Queen! And there isn’t any rebellion, mind. It was false rumours, I tell you.” The man snorted again, more so disappointed this time. He leant across the table, lowering his voice. “But you sparked my curiosity. Why in the world do you want to find damned rebels? And how do you intend on doing that, with them [i]des yeux étranges?[/i]” he motioned to her eyes, though she knew little of what the words even meant. 

“My eyes?” Eliana paused, wetting her lips as she pondered. “An accident, but I’m only half-blind, really.” She muttered, unsure how he would respond. He sat and stared at her for a bit, shaking his head. 
“I still asked you a question.”

Eliana looked over her shoulder, peering towards the other silhouettes in the room. She had hoped a young girl asking about rebels would be common here, but it seemed not. 

“My father got killed in a skirmish. I was told the rebels got to him, collateral damage, or so.” She looked back at him, nodding sternly. “I want to know the truth.” 

From what she could make out, he smirked back at her, grinning to himself. “Thought I could tell from those R’s.” 
Eliana looked towards him, eyebrow perked. “What?”

“The way you pronounce your R’s, [i]jeune dame.[/i] ‘S a hint of Raylian, I tell you.” He proudly leaned backwards, as if he had just solved an ancient riddle of some gypsy. Which left Eliana to sit silent for a moment, contemplating the way she pronounced her R’s. It could not have been much noticeable, as no one had ever commented on the bloody thing before. Truth be told, she had not spent much time in Raylian company either. It was almost a thought interesting enough, that it took her mind off the heavy smell of mead that had occupied the room. 

“Nonetheless, I ain’t sending you in the way of rebels, ‘cause there ain’t any.” 
Her hands went to clutch a small totem, residing around her neck as a simple and small necklace. The wooden material was a soothing friend, as she let her mind race. It might’ve been true. Maybe there weren’t any. Maybe, they had all been killed by the orders of this Queen, that nobody had supposedly seen in months. 
She sat alone at the table for long, tapping her fingers against the wood. The drunkard had left her long ago, when she had silently murmured a ‘thanks’, for the little help he had been able to give her. 
Her stream of thoughts was interrupted by the sudden silence that overtook the room. Someone had stepped into the tavern, clad in something that sounded awfully heavy to carry around. The soldiers shouted something in the native Raylian, which Eliana understood barely the half of. They repeated themselves in the common tongue, frustrated.

“Anyone who arrived on a ship this morning, this noon or this evening; steps outside – [i][b]now![/b][/i]”