Alissa shifted on her heels. “Do you believe Dhalia was meant to fall ill?”
She did not ask as an insult but in genuine curiosity. Perhaps truly understanding the beliefs of the people could help her in her efforts to find a cure.
His gaze, filled with sympathy, fell on her as he loaded the last of the crates for their journey. Eldric placed his hands around her waist, his fingers gently tugging on the fabric of her uniform to lift her onto the carriage. She knew he did it only because her leg wouldn’t allow her to climb up herself, but she couldn’t help the awareness his touch was capable of bringing;the shivers were inevitable. When he was done, he sat beside her, picking up the reins to finally resume their journey.
Before commanding the horse to gallop, their eyes met, her gaze still expectant for his answer.
“I believe you were always meant to leave Bryniard, and I know for a fact you wouldn’t have left if your daughter hadn’t fallen ill, would you?”
Alissa shook her head.
“Then there’s your answer. If there is a reason behind it all, which I believe in my heart there is, we will find it. Together.” He placed his palm above her knee. His touch was the reassurance she needed, though it conflicted with the comforting yet difficult truth of his words.
A faint, distant scream interrupted them. “Waaaaaait!”
Looking back over their shoulders in synchrony, they saw her. The woman stumbled and staggered as she ran toward the carriage. Her movements were disjointed and erratic as if she had never learned how to walk, let alone run. Her curly hair, set in a tousled bun, came undone with every step she took. The sweat dripping down her forehead and the exaggerated waving of her right arm made her look like a lunatic. A leather satchel slowly slid down her shoulder while she held onto a box for dear life in her left hand. She panted.
Her breathing was rapid when she finally reached the carriage. The woman put one hand over her knee, bending forward to catch her breath while the other still gripped the small metal box.
“Do you still have room for one more?” Desi asked, her voice in a whisper as she recovered from her sprint. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and stared at them in expectation.
Freyah’s eyes lit up, and she leaped in celebration, overjoyed that she could continue her potion-making lessons with Desi.Alissa nodded with a smile, sharing in the excitement. Eldric, however, only sighed, still not entirely convinced that this had been a good idea.
“Do you have another one of those?” Desi asked, her fingers pointed at the Guardians of Faith uniform. She also needed a disguise.
Although her reasons for wanting one of the uniforms were unknown to Eldric, he quickly opened one of the crates where he had left two spare garments and handed one of them to Desi. Hopping onto the carriage, she put on the uniform over her usual all-white healing clothes and sat beside Freyah.
“We look like twins,” Freyah said with a wide smile, her arms on the healer’s shoulder, who tried to mask her discomfort with the physical touch.
Eldric’s grumpy snort and the beating of hooves striking the ground marked the beginning of the rest of their journey as they resumed their ride to the capital.
The ride out of Nyfrel offered Alissa her first real glimpse of the city that had been her home for the past ten days. As she glanced around, her eyes sparkled with fascination, taking in the charming details of the town she had come to appreciate.
A large field meant for cultivating all sorts of greenery lay farther down the horizon, while closer to them, a few children played on a sparkling, small river, their laughter echoing across the water. Cobblestone streets wound their way through the center, combined with cozy, colorful little cottages. The city’s markets lined the town square, where a bronze statue stood in the center. A small flower shop on their right spread the scent of lilies and roses through the wind.
A small fair displayed the largest variety of fruits they had ever seen. Elderly people quietly sat on stone benches that surrounded the square, either reading a book or peacefullywatching the days go by, enjoying the breeze and the quietness of a long, tough life.
Alissa understood these people didn’t live a life so free of worries, despite how it seemed when they read and laughed on the city square. Not when she knew the kingdom hadn’t been good or merciful to its denizens for so long. But the more she watched them, the more she absorbed the idea that these people appeared to be the kind who had to pick themselves up, again and again, when life continuously shattered before their eyes.
Their thin arms and sunken cheeks told the stories of people who have starved and worked beyond what the human body could normally bear in order to survive. Their heavy wrinkles and tired appearance told the stories of people who lived through all sorts of hardship yet chose to fight every single day. They chose to grow old to see their grandchildren laugh and another day rise, until one day they could become part of the same soil they now stood on.
When the group finally crossed the gates of Nyfrel, Alissa noticed Desi suddenly stiffen in her seat. Her dark eyes were wide with shock, and her face had gone ashen, more pale than Alissa had ever seen. Alissa wondered if Desi had regretted joining their journey, struggling to understand what could have caused such a look of petrification. Until she followed her gaze and saw the stranger standing there.
The gentleman, who appeared to be in his late thirties, stood in front of the carriage blocking their path. He was the tallest man Alissa had ever seen; his dark, spiky hair was perfectly neat, and a stubble beard accentuated his features, but it was his eyes and the way he watched Desi sitting in the carriage that caught Alissa’s attention. A sword similar to the one Eldric held was sheathed on his waist.
“Why are you on the outside of the gate, Desi?” His voice was deep and demanding.
Desi blinked, finding it almost surreal that Ronin would appear just as they had crossed the city’s exit.
“Ronin, I…” Desi trailed off, her voice barely audible. “I just…” she stuttered, struggling to come up with an excuse and assure him she had no intention of abandoning her duties. “I was simply showing the way out of town to these esteemed guardians and their protector. I was about to return on foot.” She finally managed to say, her hands gesturing toward the group in the carriage.
The man examined her with suspicion. “Why are you wearing a G.O.F uniform?”
“I borrowed one because my own had been stained with blood when I tended to a patient’s injury earlier.”
“Right…” Ronin narrowed his eyes, skeptical, as he walked around the carriage with slow, long strides, assessing the vehicle and its passengers. He examined Alissa, Eldric, and Freyah at last. His eyes landed on the scar on her face.
Ronin had seen that scar before; he struggled to recall why her face seemed so familiar. As he contemplated, his hand slowly moved to the hilt of his sword. A sudden spark of recognition lit up his eyes.