One person was waving at them from a tent in Lacroix Crossing. The place was deserted unlike its name. Saer had projected the crossing to be filled with travelers and merchants. Maybe he had expected too much. Beside the wide road there was nothing. Two tents were set in side of the road which belonged to the traveler’s companions.

The man infront of the tent stopped waving after seeing Saer. He didn’t say anything. As they came closer to him, the curiousness on his face became readable to Saer.

“Look, I brought fat sheep!” traveler pointed at the animals but the other man was interested in Saer only.

Three more people came from second tent, wondering about the reason of the stranger’s presence in an alienated kingdom. Saer was whiter in comparison to brown skinned citizens of Winstrova. Even with burns on his face, Saer was whitest among them.

“Who are you?” one asked.

“Saer.” Saer said.

“Saer….” He waited, hoping to hear his last name.

“I am of low blood. No surname.” Saer forced smile on his lips preceding the clarification.

“Put some herbs on his wounds.” Traveler broke the uneasy introduction, “Saer is stinking.” Then he climbed down from the saeat.

Saer felt the cart rise without the fat man pressuring the whole structure.

“Come.” The person down gestured.

Saer descended to ground and walked along with him to the tent while others unloaded sheep from the cart. He held the veil open for Saer to get in. Saer didn’t want to disrespect the subtle respect so he went inside first.

Mats were on ground with pillows on them. Scattered blankets made the interior look messier. Some utensils and herbs were at corner of the tent. He doubted they were what he was going to be treated with.

“Show me your burns, Saer.” He said.

Saer unbuttoned his crocodile skin cloth and put it on ground. After doing so, he began stripping his thin cloth. He tore the part of cloth which didn’t let go of his burnt skin.

Meanwhile the man observed severity of his wounds just by his agonized face. Saer swallowed pain and pulled pieces of glued cloth from his arm.

“You will need a real medical attention.” He said to Saer.

Saer let a strand remain on his arm and listened to him, “We just have some antiseptics and pain relievers here.” He glanced at his dreadful blisters then signaled him to lie down.

“Is any doctor nearby?” Saer wrapped a thin blanket and used it as a pillow.

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“There is a doctor in Avena who has learnt medicines from Maesters of the institute.”

“Avena?”

“Capital city.” He moved towards the utensils to light fire on a oven layered with charcoal. He measured portion of liquid in a vessel then put it over the heat.

“I will rot by the time I reach there.” Saer showed his concern.

“We will be in Winstrova after breakfast.”

“I have never heard someone say a lie in the name of consolidation.”

“A patient with chance of recovery needs to learn about truth. Consolidation is for the hopeless only.”

The liquid steamed after few seconds. The person clutched it by a cloth and poured its content in a bowl. He unscrewed a bottle then put cotton piece on its mouth by keeping it upside down.

While the bowl was cooling, he applied the burning antiseptic on his flesh.

“Does your horse really fly?” Saer remembered the traveler’s saying.

“Drink.” He passed over the bowl to Saer.

He removed glove from his hand to show him a ring on his finger.

“Why are you showing me this?” Saer blew the hot soup and sipped.

“This will take us to Avena.”

Saer held the medicine in his mouth.

“Who are you? Doctor….teleporter?”

“Little bit of both.” He said with pride, pretending to display humbleness.

“How can I learn teleportation?” Saer chose his question.

“Like a child learning to take steps. Or like a beggar walking miles for food.”

“So you’re saying you won’t tell the trick?” Saer gulped the bitter soup.

“I’m saying what Maester in academy had said to us.”

“You’ve derived confusion with him too.”

“Method of teleportation will not sound great if I don’t add riddle before explaining it.” He laughed.

“How is it done?”

“You see this metal?” he tapped at his ring, “One must walk, barefoot, with this to the destined place of teleportation with this. If the person wants to teleport back then he must walk back to the place where he had started from. Then only two way teleportation becomes possible.”

He moved his robe’s end. He showed Saer his deformed feet. Saer couldn’t count more than sixteen fingers on his both feet.

“This is what three walks from Winstrova to Lacroix Crossing does.” He covered his feet.

“What is this ring made of?” Saer moved his eyes to his face.

“Only Maesters know the procedure to prepare this. The best student is awarded with this metal.”

“You must be great at sorcery. Best sorcerer in Winst-”

“I killed the best student and stole this from him.”