Ch.4

After a few seconds, the image of the inn returned, and her sight cleared. She was glad to see the bard sleeping quietly beside her. Celene stepped into the small candlelit room, making sure to avoid the soft floor covering and the thick curtains hanging against the far wall. She had never paid much attention to them before, but now they appeared to be something more sinister than cloth.

She saw two figures standing in front of the inn as she moved closer, their backs to her. They were watching the window, waiting to ambush her if she came close enough. One was the man who had spoken to her earlier, and he did not seem surprised to see her. She noticed another figure behind him, but it took a moment for her mind to realise what it was.

It was a child, so thin and sickly that Celene had only seen such children in stories. His eyes were bulging out of his head, and he was leaning against a nearby tree with one arm. Celene approached and placed a hand on the child's arm, allowing herself to make a sound. The man turned his head to her, seeing her.

"It is about time," he said. "I had forgotten my invitation."

The children crawled from the shadows. When Celene reached the street she slipped between them and looked around for Roxy. The bard was awake, sitting up in bed when she caught sight of Celene. She yawned and stretched as the bard slipped into the room. Then she walked towards her with wide, curious eyes. Celene was not sure what to say, so she left Roxy to come to her conclusions. She leaned over the edge of the bed.

"What happened?"

Roxy didn't seem particularly alarmed, which was a good sign. Celene had never told her anything about her previous dreams. It was not because she feared to, or even that she didn't trust the girl. In a way, she admired the strength it took to put these things behind her, to forget what had been and move on. But there were parts of her story that she would never be able to reveal without losing everything that was left to her.

Roxy was nodding in understanding as Celene explained everything that had happened until she got to the part about the man waiting at the inn. Then she stopped suddenly and frowned.

"What did you do, Celene?"

She sighed. "I had to meet someone . . ."

"You mean it was an elf? There is one?"

"Yes."

"Elves are real!"

Celene looked at her sceptically, "If you believe in them so much, why haven't you written stories about them? Why have you only sung of their myths and legends?"

For a moment, Celene thought Roxy was going to start crying. Instead, she laughed. "Because people would laugh at me! I know elves are real because I have seen them myself. They exist beyond imagination, living in other worlds."

"But how could they be here if no one believes them?"

Roxy laughed again. "Maybe you are right, Celene. Maybe no one ever will. But that doesn't matter to me."

The bard wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sat down on the bed. "What do we do now, my friend?"

"We wait," Celene answered.

She was still tired from the journey and spent the night dreaming of elven lords and queens, travelling merchants, and soldiers marching. It was not a bad dream, but in the morning Roxy needed to eat, and so did Celene. For all her dreaming about her home and her sisters and her father, the food from the inn was a revelation. By the time they finished breakfast, she realised that it was late in the afternoon. She had lost several hours of her day somewhere along the way.

The prospect of more sleep only made her more exhausted, and as they started their journey once more, Celene soon found herself walking beside Roxy once more. The bard seemed less tired than Celene, somehow keeping pace even as she turned her head to stare out at the countryside.

They did not speak much while walking, but Celene sensed an odd sense of friendship between them. They both shared a bond beyond anything they had ever known, and there was no point in pushing it aside. As they passed through the streets, passing by people who stared openly at the strange girl they believed to be insane, Celene realised that this might well be the greatest thing she could ask for: the companionship of someone willing to accept her on her terms, and whose company she enjoyed so much.

When they came across the road to Lrial, Roxy paused briefly, her hand pressed against the wall. "What is that?"

Celene followed her gaze. There was something new blocking the road ahead. A large barn lay on the left, and another building stood tall on the right. Two massive poles carried a series of black, wooden panels over the road. When they reached the end, Celene saw the words written on each panel in bright red ink:

'Adler will forever stand guard over the land of Rhivi.

'Only the Adler knows how to repair the Eyn'Haurrin,

'and only the Adler can have the power to finish it.

'Tend to your fences, and leave our dead to rest.'

Celene stepped closer and read the words aloud. After a moment of hesitation, she walked away from the road.

"What do you think? It seems a little . . ."

"Excitable," Celene finished. "Very much like your father."

She looked up at the sky, thinking of the man who had taught her so much. She had felt his loss so keenly when he died. But would she feel so much about dying herself? Could she even believe that it was possible to go on after losing her entire family in the blink of an eye?

But how else could things be? How else could she move on when the world was cold and empty without them? Without realising it, she slipped into the Lrial woods and walked along the riverside. On her way back, Roxy caught up with her and slipped to a stop in front of the building where the bandits had been staying.

The door hung off its hinges, and the first floor collapsed. Roxy panned her head around slowly, looking for the bodies. All she found were a few horse carcasses. Celene tapped on the door as she looked at the bloodstains that ran down the wall.

"Do you smell something?"

Roxy laughed. "They couldn't have lasted long."

"I guess you might be right," Celene said.

She heard Roxy go inside and follow her, coming up beside the bard just before the door creaked open. Celene ducked her head as the young woman entered the room, inspecting everything carefully.

"It must have been . . ." She looked up at Celene. "Did they die here? Were they already dead when the bandits attacked?"

Celene shook her head. "No."

She frowned in concentration, listening as she walked across the room. On the other side of the great stone fireplace lay a large pile of bones, human and animal. There was another similar one in the corner, but no sign of Roxy. They were smaller than she remembered. Maybe that meant she had grown while she slept. Or maybe . . .

"There are others."

In a far corner of the room, Celene saw a small part of something move under a tarp. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as Roxy pushed the edge away to reveal a small, shrivelled corpse. She wore the same clothes she had seen in the dream, and the bow slung over her shoulder was identical to the one Celene used. Her skin was red and cold, like a fresh corpse.

Roxy gasped as well, her eyes wide. "That can't be her. Look at her. She's old!"

"How do you know?"

"Because I recognized her. That has to be Roxy."

The bard smiled faintly. "You're right. But we have bigger things to worry about."

She moved closer, reaching out to touch the corpse. Then she drew back in shock and examined the body as if it was nothing more than a doll. Roxy took a step towards her and brushed her hand lightly against the blanket. It lifted with a soft rustle, revealing something else underneath. The skin had been removed from the woman's face. The flesh beneath it was pale and malformed, black and purple. It was the same disease she had seen on the children in the city, only it looked completely different now. She stared at the remains, unable to believe what she was seeing.

"Is this what happened? She . . . ?"

Roxy nodded, her voice as deep as her own grave. "They made her like that. Ripped her skin off." She stared at the body as if she could see its spirit whispering to her. Celene wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her, but instead, she closed her eyes.

"We need to go."

Together they left the room, heading for the stairway at the far end of the hall. Once they were out of the tower, Celene turned to Roxy and asked, "How did you get here?"

Roxy reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a piece of paper. On it was a brief list of words written in a childish scrawl, and below those, she had drawn a crude map of the countryside.

"This way," she said. She pointed to the map. "There is a building nearby. If you follow the river it leads to a small village. We should be able to make our way there."

Celene nodded. "Thank you."

"And now . . ."

Their eyes met briefly. Then Roxy smiled faintly and walked away.