Poor Saryar was a Cursed – that meant she had a piece of glass in her eye and shadows followed her wherever she went. She couldn't do anything about them, but they were tamer and fewer in number than those that followed the old father of the blacksmith. The shadows that followed the Cursed were (for the most part) shadows of inanimate objects like copiks or tools. Except they weren't any more, over time the shadows began to look like monsters and had become the source of many nightmares when the twins were younger. They were used to the shadows now, and knew how to live around them.
Ris thought about the quest – her quest – to save the Cursed and Enchanted. The prophecy stated that 'Bells will ring and magic sing when the mirrors arise. Dark shadows will follow the chosen to battle. There is one who must save the Cursed and Enchanted from the moons' two thousandth rising since the end of the GlassShatter Age. Shadows will haunt and mirrors call to the wyvern-stars, for curses must be undone.' When the moons rose for the two-thousandth time, there would be no hope left for them. Remembering the wyvern-star's message to her, Ris thought that was when the wyvern-star king was supposedly going to die. Except part of what she had to do was save the king, so it must have been a deadline of when the magic keeping the Enchanted alive wouldn't work any more. It shouldn't take that much time, but battling might, Ris thought.
"Where are we headed?" I asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"South, to Volyia. From there, we'll probably go to Windwall."
"Why not head straight for Eltrin?"
"It's a crowded city."
"Windwall isn't a quiet village either, you know."
"Neither's Orsilnon; there's never silence." I shook my head.
"You know what I meant. If you want to escape people, why don't you tell me to go rogue and just stay in Volyia?" Ris laughed, rejecting my sarcastic suggestion.
"I've got a quest. Maybe Ill go to Kenshalta instead."
"The abbey village, over on the western peninsula," I gestured broadly in its direction, "sounds good. Maybe we'll find someone to help us while we're there. I've heard that some of the abbey people can help the Cursed and Enchanted."
Ris looked at the mark on her left wrist – three indigo dots arranged so they formed a corner – which indicated suitability for crow magic. Unfortunately, just because she had the crow magic mark, she wasn't allowed to learn any magic in case she figured out how to use crow magic. It was too late for that though. She had spent many afternoons in the forest figuring it out, and she knew how to rely on her perception for truth, and how to recognise beauty and worth in even the smallest an unconventional of things. Sometimes it kicked in naturally when she was curious, like now.
"Yes. There are three who could help us at Kenshalta." Other times, she preferred to be surprised, which was why we had no idea what we'd find at Volyia.
We lifted our eyes to the westering sun and measured the daylight with our hands. The waning moons were rising, Argenti first then the fuller Lumen just managing to sit on the horizon. The space between Stella and the western horizon halved and we found a place to sleep – an impression in the ground surrounded by a couple of bushes. Ris had dinner before curling up beneath the sky in the protective warmth of her blanket. I kept watch as usual, since being a shadow meant I never needed sleep. The night was silent but the creatures whose day is nighttime weren't, although they were still quiet. Fewer beasts remained awake, leaving only mice and the wind to make sounds. Clouds drifted through the sky, obscuring the myriads of stats and the moons which ensured the world would not be fully dark.
The Dark Realm, my realm, of the hidden and perhaps dangerous. We shadows may not be as connected to each other as our counterparts are, but we are alive. How is't that we are hidden if we do not hide? How is't that we are dangerous if we neither wield magic nor can kill without a weapon and time? We aren't feared. I am not complaining, I am happy with my realm, only, it makes no sense," I said quietly. A creature skittered away, tiny paws falling on the grass, and a second creature gave chase. I stood and stretched to shake the dull ache of stillness away, and crept from the impression to walk in the cold moonlight for a while. The sky began to lighten, and I returned to my companion before the warmth of gold light spilt over the horizon.
We were well beyond the forest and past the bushland, nearly halfway from Orsilnon to Volyia. Winter's grip wouldn't be released for another week or so, but the depth of the snow patches was less the farther we went. Ris held her rock, a grey piece of stone she'd found in the sea one day when we were all little, rounded by the relentless heartbeat-like pulsing and crashing of te Whispering Deep. It was about the size of her palm, maybe a little larger. She used to make up stories of where it had come from, and the importance it had held there, but she usually tossed it high, felt her heartbeat in its stillness, or the warmth it kept after being held for a long while. She thought about Saryar and Rumour, her parents, and her little brother Fox, wondering how they fared and how they explained her absence to themselves. Then her thoughts fell into the pattern of curiosity that meant she was simply watching as she walked, letting her crow magic show her the wonders of things she hadn't seen before.
I re-attached myself and followed dormantly until night when I kept watch and did the same again the next day. Ris made good progress and entered the region of hills just north of Volyia. She wished she could have stew that night, but settled for some fairly stale bread, some cheese, and water. It was the last of her bread, so she'd have to go without until she could buy some in Eltrin, but she had enough food otherwise so long as she foraged, and the earth tended to be a good provider. She'd already noticed various herbs and plants, so food wasn't a worry. What she did worry about, though, was how she was supposed to find the people who would help her. I knew from the depths of her thoughts that we'd find one within a few days, but she didn't want to know so I said nothing. We watched the stars and Lumen, and when Ris fell asleep I sat as still as stone in a landscape just as cold.
I mulled over the last few days, the rhythm and loneliness of it. We missed Saryar and Rumour, even Fox, and I wondered how Lylya and Juniper were going.
"By Lyly, give them persistence and joy," I murmured, my voice loud in the silence, waiting for morning. The next few days passed without event, although anticipation grew around our unanswered curiosity of who or what we'd find in Volyia.
"Is it a castle or a city?" Ris asked, then answered herself. "A city – I should have remembered that. How badly ruined do you think it is, Promise?"
"Oh, it'll probably have ivy and moss over everything and there'll be rubble on the ground, but if the houses weren't thatched they'll probably still have roofs.
"We'll stay a few days wile we gather more provisions then, but no more than a week."
"How big do you think it is?"
"Maybe a bit smaller than Bunibehr, but that's being realistic. I've always imagined it as about the size of Foxtown," I agreed, and Ris went on, "but then so does everyone back at Orsilnon."