Saria did not creep from her room on the second floor of the inn. She walked down the stairs as naturally as if she always got up this late at night, dressed in her long coat and carrying her small sack of belongings. The way she saw it, sneaking around was just as likely to make her stand out if someone did happen to see her, so she decided to leave the inn through the front door as if she owned the place, and hope that if anyone watched her go, they wouldn't question her reasons.
As she walked through the dining room she had been in earlier, where she had heard the news of Zephyr and Agitha, she didn't make eye contact with the few people still seated about the room. She kept her eye on the door and her pace steady and natural. She had almost made it out when someone to her right caught her eye from across the room. The woman she had noticed earlier when the rumors from Bremerton were being discussed, the one who's face had looked so familiar, was watching her intently from a stool at the counter. Saria's eyes met the woman's for just a moment before she quickly turned away and pushed the front door open.
Saria huffed, hoping the familiar woman wouldn't say anything to anyone about her departure, and a puff of wispy white air floated and curled in front of her mouth. This night was the coldest so far of the season and Saria was glad she had decided to wear her coat instead of putting it into her pack. She fought back a shiver as she crossed the spotty grass in the yard of the inn over to where the stables were located.
Luckily, the doors had been left unlocked, and Saria gave a quick glance around the yard to make sure no one was watching her before slipping backwards inside the building. As she pulled the door shut and began to turn around to have a look at her options for transportation, a laugh rang out, echoing through the stables, and Saria whipped around to face whoever had just caught her.
"You haven't changed one bit," laughed the woman who had been watching her inside the inn. Saria cringed, wiping the shock off her face and replacing it with a look of indignation. She held her head high as she tried to come up with a valid reason she would be caught here in the stables. The woman continued before she could come up with anything that half made sense.
"The way you waltzed right out the door, as though no one had a right to question you, that had to be the silliest, most assuming escape tactic I've ever seen. I can't believe it worked," the woman was still laughing as she spoke, looking at Saria in what she took as a demeaning way. It made her blood boil, and a wave of heat rushed her cheeks.
"And who are you?" Saria snarled, causing the woman's eyebrows to rise once more in amusement.
"You mean you really don't recognize me?" Saria's only response was to shake her head no. The woman flashing a sly grin at her.
"Do you remember the time you got yourself stuck in that tree, and you ending up hanging by your dress like a picture hung on a wall?"
Realization dawned on Saria, and instead of finding comfort in it, Saria felt her irritation soar through the roof of the building.
"Gretchen! Why are you here?" Saria hadn't seen Gretchen Glynn since, well, before she was a grown woman. The last time their paths had crossed, back when Saria was still living with her family in Faron, Gretchen had been a gangly, loud, obnoxious - in Saria's opinion - girl in her late teens who didn't look a day past fifteen years, and who had convinced a twelve year old Saria to climb a tree in one of her prettiest dresses, only to stand there laughing hysterically at her once she was thoroughly stuck in said tree. Now, several years later, she had obviously grown up. Still tall and thin, she had gone from gangly to lithe, with sinewy muscles and a forceful grace that lit her every movement. Shining, loose curls of mahogany hair reached down her back, and her thin face had become classically beautiful since Saria had last seen her.
Saria crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she awaited a response to her question. Gretchen sighed, the amusement of the last few minutes left her face and was replaced by a sternness that made Saria wary.
"A few days after your father sent your letter out he changed his mind," Gretchen started, and began to pace as she spoke, "He didn't want you to come home alone, he wanted someone he trusted with you, but couldn't come himself. So I volunteered to come track you down. We knew you would have already left before I could reach Bremerton, so I've been stopping at every inn from Faron to here looking for you, glancing in every wagon full of people that I've passed." Gretchen stopped pacing and looked at Saria earnestly.
"What is going on?" Saria said sharply. "Why am I needed back home so urgently that he would send you for me?" Saria was almost afraid of the answers she might get.
"That's for your father to tell you," Gretchen responded, her eyes shifting away from meeting Saria's own.
"Tell me now or I'm not going with you!" Saria's voice had risen and Gretchen hissed at her to be quieter.
"I promise, you're father has good reasons for all of this, he's only trying to keep you safe. He will explain everything to you as soon as we get to Faron, much better than I could explain it," Gretchen said, now whispering in an effort to get Saria to do the same. Instead of responding, Saria plastered a stubborn look on her face and crossed her arms again, one eyebrow raised at Gretchen, who rolled her eyes and played the last card she had.
"If you don't come with me, I'll start screaming about how I found a horse thief in the stables," she said blandly, crossing her own arms and tilting her head to the side in a condescending way that drove Saria mad.
Saria knew she had to go with Gretchen, she just hated losing. She decided to do what her old nemesis said anyways.
"Well do you have horses for us?" Saria asked with a huff. Gretchen sighed and turned to walk over to two stables at the back of the barn. Gretchen entered one and motioned Saria toward the second.
Saria hesitated a second longer, her irritation at war with her curiosity to know why her father was going through all of this trouble to get her home so quickly. Finally, she uncrossed her arms, though she kept her hands balled into fists, and hastily marched across the barn to the stable Gretchen had motioned at. Inside, Saria found a horse that she decided was probably the ugliest beast she had ever seen.
The horse's snout was marred with long healed burns, it was missing it's left eye, the socket healed over but also covered in the same burn scars. Its mane, along with the hair covering its face and long neck was patchy, scarred grey skin showing in many places. Saria was appalled, but she didn't fail to note that the rest of the animal looked to be in good shape, with an athletic, powerful build.
Saria peeped over the low stable wall and gave Gretchen a glare that had made many of the soldiers back in Bremerton afraid to leave her small tips at the tavern.
"You expect me to ride this...this...beast?," Saria hissed, her tone full of disdain. Gretchen only gave her a bored look before responding.
"He's fast," Gretchen said as she mounted her own horse.
"He only has one eye!" Saria barely caught herself as she almost shouted the words.
"Doesn't need two eyes to be the fastest horse your father owns. Now hurry up, we need to get out of this place before someone notices we're in here," Gretchen said as she led her horse out of its stall toward an open barn door at the back of the stables. So that's how she got in here before me, Saria though, releasing a huff.
To her surprise, the ugly animal beside her mocked her huff, releasing one of his own, right in Saria's face. Stunned she stared at the animal for a moment, then gave it a glare and moved to climb up into the saddle. The horse didn't give her any problems, despite his apparent attitude. Saria flicked the reins and followed Gretchen out of the back of the barn into the dark night.
~
Bennet awoke to his first morning with the caravan much too early. If left to his own designs, he would have slept at least another four hours. Jasper, on the other hand, seemed to think that, though they surely would no longer be considered soldiers, they still needed to rise at the crack of dawn. Bennet felt Jasper pull the blanket from him, the chill morning air instantly slicing him and waking him enough to where he would have no hope of returning to the blissful sleep he had been enjoying. His only response to Jasper telling him they needed to get up and pack was to stick his leg out and trip the other man as he walked past, crouched over in their tent. Jasper cursed as he fell to the ground. Bennet smiled, and would have laughed, but even the thought of doing so made his sore head pulse. He considered the ache in his temples and decided that though he had quite enjoyed the carnival performer's unique wine, maybe he had enjoyed a bit too much of it.
Despite his aching head and the few hours of sleep that hadn't done much to relieve his exhaustion, Bennet sat up and began to dress himself for the day. Jasper had risen from where he'd sprawled after being tripped and gave Bennet a stern look. Bennet decided to ignore his friend's morning moodiness, until Jasper spoke to him.
"So Zephyr," Jasper began. "She says she can't remember anything substantial from before Agitha found her." Bennet looked up from putting on his socks, a bit surprised at how this conversation was starting, though he thought he might know where it was headed. It was actually something he had been thinking about ever since they'd been able to slow their run from the queen's soldiers. So even though he was sure speaking through his headache would make him want to vomit, Bennet decided to indulge Jasper and see where his thoughts were going.
"Yes, but as young as she was at the time, that's not really much of a surprise," Bennet replied, hoping his half-hearted response would encourage Jasper to continue. Jasper was silent for several moments, his brows knitted together, a look of deep thought crossing his face.
"No," he said, "I guess it's not much of a surprise. She's only nineteen now...," Jasper trailed off as he sat down, crossing his legs and facing Bennet, who decided to offer a thought up to draw Jasper out of his own mind.
"And that silver hair is very," Bennet paused, "unique." Jasper's eyes met his own.
"So I assume you've spent some time thinking all of this over?" Jasper asked.
"Yes," Bennet answered as he nodded. "I've met quite a few girls, quite a few, and silver is not a common hair color." He thought it was a bit funny that Jasper seemed to be beating around the bush, avoiding saying aloud what they were both thinking, but Bennet had to admit, it wasn't really something that he was even ready to wrap his mind around. He wasn't even sure what it would mean if he and Jasper were right.
"Silver hair," Jasper mumbled, looking away from Bennet toward the still closed flap of the tent. Bennet, remembering that he had noticed Jasper dancing with Zephyr several times the previous night, decided that since, for now, this conversation was going nowhere and was actually becoming rather redundant, with Jasper simply repeating half of the things he himself had said. He decided it would be much more entertaining to put his friend on the spot and make him squirm.
"I noticed that you were very much enjoying yourself with said silver-haired lady last night," Bennet waggled his eyebrows at Jasper and gave him a sly grin. Jasper's eyes widened slightly, and though he kept his composure and rolled those eyes, Bennet noticed a slightly pink tinge growing across his cheeks.
"I only danced with her because she wanted to, and she didn't know many of the people here yet," Jasper said plainly. "And besides, she's had it rough these last few days, she deserved a break from everything, and I was happy to help with that." He rose and began to exit the tent as he finished speaking. He looked back at Bennet as he stepped outside. The colour had left his face but Jasper still seemed a bit uncomfortable with Bennet bringing up that previous night's activities, much to Bennet's delight.
"Hurry and finish getting dressed," Jasper told him, a hint of annoyance in his tone, which only increased Bennet's joy. Jasper then turned and quickly walked away from the tent, leaving Bennet to his own thoughts, which quickly turned to a more serious direction without his friend present for him to tease.
We could very well be in over our heads with this girl, he thought to himself, remembering the stories he had once heard of a little girl with brilliant silver hair. Stories that no one had dared to utter for years now, stories that had almost been forgotten. Forcefully forgotten, but forgotten nonetheless. Stories that could easily have avoided a small town far from the capitol of the kingdom.