“Antonius?”

She wore a beautiful white dress. Her hair was in braids.

“I thought you might like some company?” I smiled.

She shrugged her shoulders, returned the smile, but kept silent.

“We can go take a walk around the city?” I persisted.

“All right,” she finally answered, went back inside to fetch her bag and locked the door behind her. We descended the stairs down to the tavern where we were met by grinning Beta.

“Have a wonderful day you two,” she yelled behind us as we exited into the street.

“So, where to?” Atia asked.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Hm. How about we just walk around? I’ve already been to the city a few times, I’ve seen all the sites.”

“You visited before?”

We started walking idly through the busy street.

“Yes, four times. As the ambassador to the League, my uncle often made trips to Alena. I used to go with him. I’m so devastated he sent me away, but he thinks it’s not safe for me in Abydos. Ridiculous! Nothing would have happened... Just paranoia on his part.”

“One can never be too cautious. Have you traveled to other realms?” I diverted the subject.

“Only Porosia and Dwarvenlands. How about you?”

“Until now only Dwarvenlands. But I was very young, I don’t remember anything of it. How old are you anyway?”

“I’m nineteen. And you?”

“I’ll be nineteen in a few months. You look younger,” I smiled.

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“And you older,” she laughed.

Right then a group of Elves passed us by. I had never seen an Elf before. They were quite taller than us, had pointy ears and long embroidered hair. They were clean shaved and their skin lacked any imperfections. It was impossible to determine their age. It was said a grown Elf looks the same pretty much all their adult life. I learned at the Academy their life span was longer than ours, by about twenty years.

Two of them talked quietly to each other, passing us by. People around didn’t seem to pay much attention to them. They were used to Elves visiting their city, either merchants or diplomats.

“You’re staring,” said Atia, bringing me back from my trance.

“Oh… I didn’t even realize it!”

“Yes, Elves have that effect,” she smiled, “You’ve never seen one?”

“Once from afar, back in Lux, years back.”

“Some speculate that Elves are direct descendants of the Ancient ones. But of course there is no proof of that. Vetulonian invasion and then the long winter annihilated so much knowledge! So many books and scrolls burned or rotted away – poof – and now we tap in darkness. It makes me sad,” she sighed.

“If I was Lord of Vetulonia, I’d send an expedition to the Giants in the north and ask them to share their knowledge of the past. My grandmother told me the Giants know everything, of what was, what is, and what will be. But to reach their lands you have to travel through the Forbidden Forest. A cursed area. Of those who entered only a few returned – and those who did, well, most of them went mad.”

“Didn’t Lord Tiberius travel to their land? I remember my uncle telling me about it,” Atia frowned.

“Right! He did! He told me that on the island weeks ago. I completely forgot about it!”

“Do you like beer?” she changed the subject.

"Who doesn't?"

She laughed and then we went to find a popular tavern she knew of from her previous visits. We found an empty table and then drank beer and smoked sticks. We talked of the Dwarves and of their magnificent forts that kept Helena safe from Orcs. Of how absurdly weak Porosia had become. And how the League’s power was growing. We talked of the island, and I told her of the cave and what we had found there. I described to her how strange it felt being near that wondrous statue. We touched on philosophy as well, but by then we were too drunk to make much sense.

Strangely enough, we avoided talking about personal matters. Neither of us felt the need to go there. Slowly the night conquered the day and we decided we had drunk enough. But when we came back to our tavern we changed our minds and decided we need another round. We found Cecilia, Flavia and Otho at the corner table and joined them. With delight I realized they were drunk as well.

“These are our rest days!” Otho almost screamed and slammed the wooden cup on the table, spilling beer all around. Beta then scolded him, he blushed and we laughed. The rest of the tavern guests kept buying us drinks, but none of the people approached our table. We talked, and joked, and drank until the tavern closed and we climbed up the stairs to our beds.