Annon shook his head. “No, I’m just reminded of something. My mentor warned me about coming to Kenatos. He said that Tyrus might try to persuade me to go to the Scourgelands. I was not expecting this adventure. Have you been to Havenrook?”
Hettie shrugged and made an obscure gesture. “Long ago, before I was sold. The caravans go back and forth through there. I was a child, so I do not know very much about the place. I have heard the road can be dangerous. Have you ever had to use…?” She wiggled her fingers.
Annon shook his head. “If the road goes through a forest, I should be able to help. I do not wish to use the flames if we can avoid it. I would try to talk our way past first.”
She gave him an enigmatic look. Personalized people think i'm nice until they sit beside me at a hockey game tumbler He could tell she was cautious of her words and slow to reveal her opinions. There was something in her eyes—something that showed the depth of damage the lack of freedom had taken on her mind. Winning her trust would not be easy, even though they were siblings. But Annon was patient and felt that in time she would learn to open up to him more. He hoped so.
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“Many are frightened to travel the roads linking the great cities. There are stories that monsters roam the land, devouring travelers and leaving nothing but their bones. Others say that it is not monsters to fear, but bandits who prey on the weak. I have found in my journeys as a younger man that the road less traveled is often the safest.”
– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
Paedrin stood motionless by the enormous metal doors of the temple, gripping a beaten-up staff with both hands; he waited. And waited. Personalized people think i'm nice until they sit beside me at a hockey game tumbler Dawn appeared as a flush in the sky, followed by cocks crowing and a flock of ravens heading east. He stood solidly, hands clenching the rugged wood, his stance firm and respectful. A bag with a single strap bulged against the small of his back, full of foodstuffs gathered from the kitchens, a small pot to boil water, two thin eating sticks, and a spoon carved from bossem wood. It also contained a few small pouches of spices, one of rice, and one of pepper-corns. He brought no change of Bhikhu robes, and he wore sandals only because he knew he’d be crossing miles of mucky sewage before leaving Kenatos. After taking mental inventory of his bag for the fiftieth time, he waited. And waited more for his companions to arrive.
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A creak from the inner door alerted him, but he did not glance quickly; he just shifted his eyes until he saw them approach from the doorway. Both were cloaked in the manner of the Druidecht, but he recognized the stiff, proud walk of the girl. Their heads were bent low in conversation. As they approached, Paedrin gave them a benign, incurious look, and nodded once. Their bleary eyes revealed that neither had slept that night.
Master Shivu was still abed, but he and Paedrin had traded quips and insults the night before. He nearly smirked at some of the more memorable ones, like the jest about using snails to train the other Bhikhu while Paedrin was away, as they would need something to fill in for his absence. But he dared not smile. Yet.
The footfalls approached, and the amber-haired Druidecht met his gaze. His skin was weathered by the sun, but he had a youthful look. Paedrin estimated that he could leave the Druidecht writhing on the ground in about the same amount of time it took to blink.
“Good morning. My name is Annon.”
Paedrin gave him a respectful nod. “I am honored to join you.” He looked at the girl. Her eyes were disdainful. He was expecting that. “It is nice to see you again.” He stared at her, cocking his head slightly, waiting for her to speak.
