The path I followed finally split into a fork, with a stone in the middle.

“To Mer’hieine 6; To C. Camp 1”

I looked back in the general direction of the house, without knowing exactly where it was, it was almost impossible to pin. The sun was still fairly high above, and sometimes a light breeze would cool off my back. For a second I considered stopping in the flower field next to the road and snacking on the bread I’d brought but since the camp was only one hour by horse away, so I kept on.

Voices and various noises started to erupt in front of me, as I climbed up a small hill where stalls and buildings were waiting. In the middle of this clearing, people seemed busy, walking around carrying knick-knacks and crates. A manly belly laugh echoed suddenly, and before I knew it, a large man ahead of me slapped another’s shoulder a few times. I continued onwards, making sure to hold my bag securely. Soon enough, I passed an old fence post with signs and arrow shaped planks, pointing in different directions. After passing the overhead welcoming banner, I was in the middle of the Crowkull supply camp’s landing.

“A new face! Can I help you with anything dear?”

A booming voice called on my right. Her elbow planted on a big window sill, a tall woman smiled and nodded in my direction. I jogged towards her, my things bouncing in my backpack.

“This is my first time here, I live in the big house close to the forest, straight east from here?” I started.

“Okay,” she replied, bending an eyebrow inquisitively. “What brings you here?”

She cleared her throat a bit and reached for a small bottle by her side. She wasn’t particularly friendly, but her confidence gave her a familiar air. I figured she had seen a lot of faces before mine. I pushed the straps off my shoulders and looked inside my bag for a small package I had prepared before leaving.

“I was leaving with a woman, but she passed away.” I presented the envelope to her, carefully setting it on the wooden surface she was resting on. “I was wondering if I needed to notify her family, or people she knew. She was like my mother, so this is important.”

The woman blinked at me a few times, pouting her lips in what I assumed what she thought was a comforting smile. She opened the envelope to find a note I’d written before leaving, detailing how my mentor had passed, and a picture of her I had found in an old box in the boudoir. After examining the contents for a couple of seconds, she sighed.

“Alright, come on in. Let’s figure this out.”

After sliding out of her window post, she came out of the side of the building, inviting me in. The place was particularly roomy inside; half a dozen tables were standing around, paired with one or two chairs each. Some men were talking in the back, drinking what smelled like some mead. The whole place smelled of fermented fruits, wine, and sweat.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Let me see here, you lived with Merille? I knew she was sick lately, but I would have never guessed she would tap out that soon.”

We both sat there, close to the tending bar, where a man was washing something in the sink.

“She grew weaker… very fast, and before I knew it, it was too late.” I replied, setting my belongings on my lap.

“I didn’t know she had a daughter,” She stated, staring at me.

“She took me in when I was still a child. She’s raised me, and taught me a lot.”

After considering me for a moment, she called out to the worker behind her and waved her hand at him.

“When did it happen?” She asked, settling in her chair.

“A couple of days ago. I don’t think she was in pain at ttat point, but she seemed… ready.” I replied. A knot in my throat cut my breathing short. I clenched my jaw a little, trying to keep some sort of composure.

The man finally reached our table, setting a glass bottle and two cups in front of us. The smell was really strong, it felt like a hammer slathered in honey just slammed on my head.

“How old are you?”

“21”

She poured two tall glasses of mead right in the cup, and pushed one closer to me.

“I won’t tell if you don’t” She nodded, before raising the cups to her mouth.

After smiling at her, I decided to try the concoction and dip my lips in the beverage. It was strong, and for a second, I thought it burned a hole right through my tongue. I had a hard time discerning the notes and fruits that were in it, but after all, it wasn’t too bad.

“You let me know if you need anything, alright?” Even if we didn’t know each other, I wanted to think that each time Merille walked all the way here to get supplies, she shared a drink with the host in front of me.

I took another sip of mead.

“Actually, I was wondering if it was possible to someone in her family know what happened” I started, before she interjected.

“The good doctor’s family is all the way north west of here. You could send them a letter but,” She grabbed her neck and smiled again “it’s a journey a piece of paper can’t be expected to take on safely.”

“I think I remember her telling me about a place quite far… but it’s not like I have any money to travel” I continued jokingly.

“If you go up the road, you’ll find a building with a line bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. It’s always loud, but once you pass the door, go straight to the loudest fella and tell him Damna send you. If you’re really Elaine’s daughter he’ll know. He has a thing for sniffing people out.”

I blinked at her a few times to print the information in my brain as precisely as possible. She jerked her head in my direction twice, shooing me away. As I thanked her for the drink and her hospitality, I considered heading back home now and going back to the comfort and safety of the master bedroom. As I passed the door and waved her goodbye, I settled on finding out why she would point me in this merchant’s direction.

The main plaza was still drumming with movement. To make sure I didn’t lose track of where I was going, I decided to follow the wall right out of the tavern and find the line Damna described to me. It didn’t take long, as a few paces down the passage I was on, I came dangerously close to bumping into the back of a large man, whose hair was waving freely down his back.

“Sorry!” I blurted out.

He turned gracefully and shined a kind look right at me. His face was incredibly slim and strong, tattoos cutting his cheeks from his eyes down to his jawline. I examined him, mouth open, but I couldn't say anything else.