Might I offer you some tea, dear traveller? No? I know you'd like me to get on with the tale. It is after all, why you have travelled such a long way. Where had I left off? Oh, yes…

Jarin and Merrick were deathly frightened. By instinct Jarin took his brother’s hand in his bloodied one. Together they ran scurrying furiously from whence they came, eager to escape the strange girl who laughed at the sight of them. Once at the top, they bounded off through the darkness straight out hand in hand screaming till they almost crashed into tiny Thea.

'What's wrong?' Her large doe eyes were near bulging. They panted, and Jarin’s heart hammered so hard he could hear it in his flushed ears. Neither of the brothers spoke still a bit foggy at what truly took place. This made Thea wrought with even more anxieties and she took to doing what many children the age of eight did. Weeping, she pleaded, ‘let us make for home!' Brought out of their stupours the brothers agreed trotting back eagerly towards the castle atop their mounts.

That night, a feast was held in honour of Jarin's fourteenth birthday. He was gifted many trinkets and weapons by many lords, being forced to smile and happily accept them. In his mind he’d no use for them for his heart laid between the pages of a good book; his soul lived many lives in those tales. So, in a hushed whisper Jarin permitted his brother to use them as he pleased. Merrick (who seemingly all but forgotten what they’d seen earlier that day) beamed happily. His old friend Sir Borin caught Jarin later gifting him a story titled All About Dragons. It was only then Jarin allowed a sincere smile to spread across his youthful face.

'Thank you kindly!' Jarin clutched the book to his chest and Sir Borin, with a pat on the prince's head of gold, laughed merrily. Jarin looked about seeing the adults drink away the night and the children play. It was there he began to feel lonely once more even with Sir Borin at his side. For he was in a stage where he was neither man nor child. He excused himself then, silently slipping away from the merriment with the excuse of going to read his new book.

His exit hadn’t gone unnoticed by Thea, who tended to stay out of the children's playing as they were much too rambunctious. She wondered if she should follow the prince though she decided to abandon such a thought, by then she’d contemplated it far too long. Prince Jarin was taller and much quicker than she. She’d never be able to catch him. She clung to the skirt of her mother instead, who was being wooed by a drunk knight. She hadn’t understood the meaning of the word nor the notions of it. She only thought that the secret touches shared between a man and woman were to check them for injury. The word itself reminded her of a sound a bird would make.

'Woo, woo,' she practiced.

'Dear, why not play with the other children?' Thea's mother lightly yanked her then-wrinkled skirt free from her daughter’s tiny clutch. Thea's face contorted as she watched the others play roughly with one another. The problem to her was that there were far too many boys to play swords, and far too little girls to play princess. She always wanted the castle to house a lovely little princess.

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With little option she walked behind Prince Merrick who wrestled another noble boy to the ground. They were laughing loudly, narrowly spilling wine resting upon the feasting table. The other noble boys cheered the chaos on.

Can you understand now why little Thea was as worrisome as she was, traveller?

She was a servant that was why the princes and noble boys never knew why she worried so. For all the fun had they’d always leave such a mess in their wake, and Thea and other servants would be tasked to clean up after them.

Merrick won the play-fight and offered his hand down to the other boy. It was graciously received and very princely of him. Thea could see the makings of a great king; for he was blood of the king and heir apparent. She saw him grimace upon seeing her, knowing Thea never condoned his rough housing for it made her uneasy. She cried when afraid and she knew no one liked it but Thea could hardly stop herself from doing so. Merrick and the others would openly mock her for it and she earned herself the title Thea the Banshee.

'Your brother left the feast.' She sat beside him.

'I know.'

'Aren’t you worried?'

'Why would I be?' He glanced around watching for any eyes that surveyed them. Taking a goblet filled with spiced wine, he offered it her way. 'I heard my father once explaining to the knights that this drink helped him worry much less.' Thea sniffed, smelling the sweetness her mouth slowly watered. With a tiny sip she sputtered, frowning as she hurried away to wash out the taste. The sound of Merrick's laughter chased after her.

How fondly I think back, to the pranks of children. Have you experienced such things, traveller? Yes, I see it in your eyes now, you’ve seen many things though you seldom speak of it.

Once Jarin left he read his new book vaguely remembering the day his father perished; the day he saw two dragons dance across the deep night sky, breathing down a flurry of fire red and blue. It wasn't that which haunted him however, but the sound of his sweet mother weeping, smiling sadly down at him. He remembered her calling the dragons soulless creatures, making Jarin wonder how she knew for sure they were indeed soulless. For that matter, what was a soul and had he one of his own? He scratched his head bemused by it all. Then his thoughts drifted towards the cave and the strange girl… Jarin smiled, thinking of her attire and the way she laughed-- the kind you’d hear that sent shivers up your spine. He recalled the brilliant shimmer of the cave walls and rubbed his still-sore nose a reminder of the fall he took. Speaking to no one he mused aloud, 'perhaps I shall return on the morrow and see her again.' With a loud yawn and a good stretch, he laid down on his plush bed and drifted off into the world dreams.

How I do wonder what it was he dreamed of. He was a quiet sort of boy and none who met him ever fully understood how his mind worked. Much like you, dear traveller… you remind me of the prince in the story. You’re quiet, leaving me to wonder who you truly are... Now, how about that tea?