They gradually reached the road leading eastward back to the coast.
Sanae turned to Meyriv.
"I thought you didn't want to go with me?"
"I've decided traveling to the mainland may be a good idea."
She smiled, glad for the company. Even if he was a solemn and irritable.
Since he wasn't talkative, Sanae filled the silence by telling him her life story. He was surprisingly attentive, asking occasional questions. Despite this, she could tell his mind was elsewhere. Something else was concerning him.
Of particular interest to him were the shapeshifter Istan and the eerie palanquin.
“You said the object cast a spell on its own?"
“As far as I could tell. It didn’t look like Istan did it.”
“Hmm...”
“I’ve told my story, what about you? How did you end up in that cave? What were you hiding from?”
“...it doesn’t matter.”
She asked him more questions about his past, but he wouldn’t give any details.
Magic was one of the few topics he wasn’t evasive about, despite his refusal to actively teach her.
He demonstrated some exercises involving simple objectives, such as heating and cooling objects, making objects emit light while controlling the color or intensity, and moving various things.
Meyriv reacted very strangely any time groups of travelers passed them on the road. He tensed up as soon as the people drew near, sweating and often stumbling or doubling over as if in great pain.
As a caravan of soldiers passed by, he made a choked gurgling sound and collapsed. One of the soldiers broke from the group and stopped to investigate.
“I’m a healer. Has this happened before?”
“No...well, not this severely. He seems fine until groups of people get near and then he acts strange.”
The healer gave her a confused look, then knelt down and felt Meyriv’s neck.
“His pulse is strong but he seems quite frail. Has he been eating?”
“I....don’t know. I only recently met him. He helped me out of a pit I fell into.”
“Judging by his condition, he’s had little to no food for weeks. I’m amazed he helped you instead of trying to rob you, or even eat you. He must have incredible willpower.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
She nodded silently, not having to fake her shocked expression.
“Incredible willpower. Or unnatural powers. Or both.”
The man handed her a small cloth-wrapped bundle.
“Take these. Make sure he eats them slowly at first, only one or two bites until his body adjusts. If he goes too fast he won’t be able to keep the food down.”
“Thank you!”
The man nodded and hastened to catch up to his group.
After Meyriv regained consciousness, Sanae proffered a small chunk of the flat bread.
He took it, examining it for only a moment before shoving the whole thing into his mouth, barely pausing to chew before swallowing.
“Where did you get that?”
“A passing soldier gave it to me when you collapsed.”
He nodded, brow creasing in worry or frustration.
“I don’t remember any of it.”
---
After a few days they arrived at the outskirts of Bridgeport. Once the city’s gate was in sight, Meyriv refused to go further.
“I cannot enter cities.”
“For the same reason you act strange whenever we pass groups of people?”
He nodded, then produced a moth-eaten coin purse and handed it to her, metal clinking.
“See if you can secure passage for us. The ship will have to pick me up a short way down the coast. Also...Can you purchase new clothes for me, as well as a supply of food?”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thank you. Meet here before sundown.”
He lay down on the grassy hill.
What kind of curse causes him to avoid crowds? Extreme social anxiety? That doesn’t quite seem to fit his behavior...Maybe he’s just crazy?
While walking, she stopped to count the coins so she knew how much she had to work with.
They were mostly silver with several gold mixed in. They also were really old.
Unnatural silver eyes, some sort of curse...
I’m going to need more answers, next time I see him.
In the market, a merchant inspected the coins she gave him.
“Where’d you dig these up, lass?” He said with a chuckle.
“Is something wrong?” She asked
“No, no. Old silver is still silver.”
“Don’t go diggin’ any more graves!” The merchant joked as she walked away.
That's not too far from the truth.
She asked around at the docks, but no ships were leaving for the mainland for at least two weeks.
She returned to their camp just as the sun was beginning to set.
She put down the sack of supplies on the ground near him. He grabbed an entire loaf of bread and began wolfing it down, barely pausing to breathe.
His appearance had been improving ever since he had started eating again. He still appeared frail, but noticeably less gaunt and pale.