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"So, clearly, this has to stay between us. I don't want Sylvie to know." I say, running a hand through my hair.

Jaxen nods in reply. I try to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. There was too much to think about. Why were these creatures being made? How many where there? How many people had been taken, and where were they being held? How much did Madame Purity know? Was she in on it? Most importantly, what could I do to protect Sylvie and Ebba? I singled out the one thing I could answer.

"We have to go back to the circus."

"Seems a good place to start." Jaxen agrees, looking up from Madame Purity's fortune.

"Madame Purity has to know something about what's going on. It's her circus after all, and, since it's not like she can see the future, it means when she gave Aeris that prediction it was because she knew something was going to happen."

I glance at the words of the fortune over Jaxen's shoulder. It all just looks like black scratches, and I now more than ever hate the fact I never learnt to read. It seemed I was going to have to rely further on this Aetherian.

"Did you figure anything else out?"

Jaxen twists his head, and I assume under the mask he's looking at me.

"I think I have this first half figured out. We know the first two lines are referring to the creature and its creation. Stone infused from the war of olden, I think we can say is the glowstones, which they must be using to fuse the metal and the skin. Still not sure on how that works. The line in a world since long has been tread, is clearly referring to a forgotten location. If we could figure out where that is, it would be a good place to start looking for Aeris."

Jaxen turns back to the words in front of him, "I haven't the chance to think about this second half, but I definitely think we should go question this Madame Purity woman."

"Ellinder!" Sylvie's voice echoes through the house.

"Yeah?" I call back.

"Dinner!" She shouts.

I close my eyes briefly. "I'll be back in a moment."

Without waiting for a reply, I head down the hallway, and up the stairs to the second floor of the house. Sylvie bustles about the space we used for dining, Ebba helping her, placing plates upon the table.

"Sylvie, when you have a second I need to talk to you."

Dusting her hands on her apron, she motions for me to follow her to her room.

"What's going on? Did you figure something out?" She bombards me, once the door is closed.

Several somethings really. I look around Sylvie's room, stalling, as I try to figure out how much I would tell her. Everywhere I look, bright colours fill the space. Stitched together bits of material hung across her ceiling, billowing down to the floor around her bed, which was covered by an odd patchwork blanket she had made. Everything in her room was sweet, bright and colourful, just as she herself is. No, I couldn't tell her what I had discovered.

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